#Interactive Whiteboards for Business

[armertech]

Interactive Whiteboards for Business

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[benchmarktechnomate]

corporate interactive displays

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[paige05bby]

Fake it til you make it

☆ pairing: wnba!fuckgirl!Paige x Singer!reader

word  count: 1008

Summary: Whereas a first interaction means many things to famous singer, y/n y/l/n, especially those that involve a pretty well-known basketball player

"Lie to me and tell me you don't want me as much as I want you. Lie to me and tell me you don't want to press those pretty lips of yours to mine right now. Lie to me and tell me you hate me"

y/n

"Hey! I'm y/n y/l/n,, and this is the wired Autocomplete Interview!" I chuckle at a whiteboard with my name and multiple whited-out questions. "I'm scared!" I smile at the producer as I finish the first covered question: "When did y/n y/l/n get famous?" 

oh boy, 

"Straight for it, huh– loaded question!" I chuckle, looking into the camera, "Umm, I would say right after I left college— I started on YouTube and dabbled into some songwriting, then I somehow ended up here!" I smile, shrugging my shoulders before throwing the crumbled paper over my shoulder. "It seems like there are enough people like little ole me."

"Who are y/n y/l/n’s songs about?"

"That's for me to know and you to wonder." I wink at the camera. " Next?"

"Why are y/n y/l/n songs so sad"

"Because being a lesbian sucks.." I chuckle, shaking my head, “You know I didn't even notice that! I don't think I've ever written a love song before!”

"Is y/n y/l/n a basketball fan?"

"I practically grew up on it! But I never technically grew to, ya know... Play it! But yes, huge fan," I chuckle,

"What is y/n y/l/n next album about?"

"Hmmm..." I bite my lip softly before smiling at the camera, "My past, past and present?" I smirk, "Take that as it is."

I rip off the next one as a gasp, chuckling softly, "What is y/n y/l/n type?"

I roll my eyes and check the nonexistent watch on my arm, "So I think it's about time I go.." I smile, making the producers and their teams laugh behind the camera as I facepalm my forehead, softly panicking.

"well... you could never go wrong with a female athlete.. Cmon, you get the muscles and the damn uniforms– be for real," I suck my teeth, awkwardness flooding through me, "but you know what they say— I don't kiss and tell," I smirk before continuing to the next question, "and that's that on that..."

Paige

I rub my groggy eyes, which are still sore from an early morning practice. I walk through the streets of early LA morning, turning into a Starbucks.

“White mocha– shaken with brown sugar.” I nod sleepily towards the barista before slipping a ten-dollar bill and mumbling, “Keep the change.”

As I slump into a seat while my thoughts get lost in Instagram, scrolling through what model posted with what skims outfit today– Now listen, I know what you're thinking – im not what you think i am.. Im just women–

Who has needs. 

Don't take me for the relationship type of person.

My life is busy enough – let alone be able to remember a girl's name. 

I roll my eyes as my phone buzzes– “What, Alex– today isn't the day to piss me off-”

“Paige, your fucking late dude!”

“Im down the street– grabbing a coffee, gimme a break!”

“Well, your lucky she is late t-”

“Who she?”

“Paige, cmon now, get on the right, but here– your agents are setting you up with some girl to help your social standard because god knows you blew it with that stupid model you decided to sneak into your hotel during an away game…”

I groan, throwing my head back– “That was one time!”

“One time too many PB!” 

“A Venti shaken white mocha with brown sugar..” 

“Dude, fine– hope off my dick– ill be there!” I sigh before getting up to walk towards the counter, reaching out for my drink, but only before a hand grabs it before my own.

y/n

“A Venti shaken white mocha with brown sugar..”  

“Oop, that's mine! I'll meet you in the car, Carter!” I smile at my agent before walking up to the counter and grabbing my drink.

“Um, excuse me?” the voice chuckles, making me turn swiftly on my heels, “Thats mine–”

“Does it have your name on it?”

“Nothing needs my name when everyone knows it.”

I chuckled to myself. Of course, I knew who this hunk of a blonde was, and may I say she was even better looking in person than she was in her edits– but that doesn't forgive her attitude —she was practically all over the internet with the slogans “best WNBA record beater” or “who the favor of tonight with WNBA star Paige Bueckers. " She's practically the slogan child of what not to do in stardom.

I chuckle, tilting my head to the side, “Im sorry? Who are you exactly?” 

“Don't be a stupid kid—you know who I am.” She smirked, leaned against the counter, and looked down at me, her height daunting.

I shake my head, pursing my lips. " The only thing I know about you is that we have the same coffee order. Now I should be going because I have much more important things to do than talk to athletes.” I smirk before turning on my heels to walk out—only for the blonde to follow. 

“Oh, so she's a coffee thief and a liar–” She chuckles, making me stop.

“And you're officially a creep– and now coffeeless–” 

“You intolerable–”

“Sorry, I didn't know this was a competition between who's more annoying! In that case, you win... “ She huffs as both our phones ding, “saved by the bell..”

“Seems like it.” She tilts her head, smirking, “Enjoy my coffee..” 

“Oh, trust me, Bueckers– I will..”

—

“Y/N! You're here– im sorry. I know LA traffic can be terrible these days! I knew I should have gotten you another car!”

I laugh, shaking my head, “Alex, seriously, don't worry about it! I don't need an escort– I can take the regular road just like a normal person..”

“So my client– She’s a handful... Are you sure your management is okay with this?”

I nod, letting out a shaky breath as his hand reaches for the door, “If this works – then im sure they are more than okay..”

The door opens slowly before a familiar blue-eyed blonde looks up at me.

“Coffee Theif?”

“YOU?”

[inkblot-embalmer]

I've been SO busy on whiteboard. If anyone ever sees me there please say hi and draw and interact with me I love it to death.

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

Eddie had called out of work the next day. Steve could hear him making his apologies to Mrs. Henderson who'd taken over the running of the shop when her husband passed.

Steve knew she'd probably tell him to stay home for the rest of the week, probably longer if she could get away with it, but Eddie loved every second he spent working there. Adored Dustin. Adored the other kids, Steve's kids, who used the back room for their dice game after closing on Thursday evenings.

Eddie would have to be beaten away from the premises with a bat. A bat with nails.

Steve might just have to give it a try if the idiot refused to rest properly.

He wasn't mothering him.

He was like… distant cousining him.

When he heard Eddie retreat back to his room after the call and when a light rumbling of snores came through the wall maybe a half an hour later, Steve finally made his exit from his room.

He hadn’t wanted Eddie to think he needed to put on a brave face or act like he was okay if Steve was out in the public spaces while he made the call. 

Not because he cared.

Just so Eddie wouldn’t have to pretend.

And so he himself didn’t have to deal with the tension.

Yeah, right.

Also, it was the least he could do to complete Eddie's designated chores off the whiteboard that there had been war over. 

Robin and Eddie’s friend Chrissy had been forced to come in and mediate the whiteboard before one of them set the other's hair on fire. Though by the end of the day the two best friends had been too busy making eyes at each other to be of any help.

Steve was taking a risk; messing with the delicate whiteboard balance that stayed the same, week in, week out, lest another war start. But if Eddie wasn’t up for going to work, he certainly wouldn’t be up for sweeping, mopping, countertops and garbage.

And like, Steve could hardly blame him, he’d been through a lot yesterday, he’d been betrayed by the guy he’d cared most about. He was attacked and had his heart broken all in one night.

So it was whatever.

Just a few chores. 

Whatever.

At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping the noise down. Eddie could sleep through the apartment being ripped up by a cyclone then dropped into Oz.

He’d probably sleep through any and all musical numbers to follow, too.

Though he’d be bummed about missing them.

A few hours had passed by that point and Steve was just about to sit his lovely bottom on the couch to enjoy some good old fashioned thoughtless tv when there was a knock at the door.

He half expected Mrs. Henderson to be on the other side with half a hospital in tow behind her as well as, like, fifteen gallons of her famous chicken noodle soup. Which Steve would not turn down for love nor money and would steal a minimum 50% share.

As was his right.

But it wasn’t Claudia.

It was some guy. 

Some guy who had a bandage over his nose, a harsh purple colour blooming underneath, sitting a little off as though broken. Some guy who had cuts and scratch marks all over his face and neck.

Some guy who seemed to be affronted at the very sight of him.

But as he stood there Steve could see the clogged up gears working in his brain before the guy opened his mouth and said "You're Steve, the roommate."

Steve pursed his lips. 

Well, this interaction was off to a great start. 

Though if this was who Steve thought he was, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

"I'm Steve. Eddie's the roommate.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “What was with the look?"

The guy blinked at him. "What look?"

"The look you gave me, when I opened the door. Like I'd shit on your shoe." He answered with a cocked eyebrow and a cocked hip.

"Oh, uh… I just thought Eddie had shacked up with someone already.” The guy laughed. “Bit soon.” He shrugged and smiled at Steve as though looking for some kind of commiseration for a good joke, two men giving each other nudges about how silly their wives were or whatever other shit straight people did.

But Steve had no commiseration to give.

So this was definitely the shithead, then. Rick.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, practically acting like a barricade, blocking off access to the apartment with his arms crossed. "Don’t like the idea of him having someone at home?” He asked in a light tone. “Bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

Rick’s face immediately soured. "That wasn't his business to tell."

“I think you lose the privilege to that kind of privacy when you fuck around on people you’re supposed to love.” Steve shrugged. “Or just people in general.”

“Who the hell are you to judge me?” Rick puffed his chest out. “You don’t know me.”

“And thank god for that. I don’t need to know you. I know you’re a cheater, that’s enough.”

Rick scoffed. “Whatever, man. I’m not here to debate morality or some shit with you. I’m here to see Eddie.”

“No.” Steve answered as simply as he could. 

The guy seemed to need things to be concise.

Rick looked bewildered. “Ex- excuse me?”

“You got cotton in your ears or something? I said no.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? His keeper? You know he hates you right?”

Steve pulled his mouth down into a mocking pout. “Oh no.” He sighed, deadpan. “I’m so heartbroken.”

“Listen, I’m not getting into it with you right now, man. So call Eddie out or move.”

“Or what?” Steve leaned forward a little, feeling his blood light on fire. 

There would be nothing more he’d love at this moment than Rick trying to square up to fight. 

The guy was a little taller than him, but Steve was much broader, much stronger and though it wasn’t something he liked to do, he knew he could throw a decent punch if it was for someone else.

That much was obvious. 

Thinking back on the things Eddie had said last night, the things Rick had tried, the way he’d cried into Steve’s shoulder, Steve would break Rick’s nose all over again if given half a chance.

“Steve.”

Eddie appeared next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from the door.

Rick looked between the two of them before his eyes landed back on Steve, snapping at him “You can fuck off now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh, can I?’, but even so, he looked at Eddie, waiting for some sign of what he wanted, whether he wanted him to stay or go.

But Eddie gave no indication of what he wanted, wedging himself in between the two and pulling the door tighter to himself, his expression thunderous through the blooming bruises and angry cuts.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve took that as his cue to go. Even through all the bluster and posturing and how much the two of them still didn’t like each other-

We barely tolerate each other, Steve insisted to himself, we don’t like each other. I don’t like him.

-he wasn’t going to force himself into this drama and if Eddie needed to tear this guy to shreds on his own, Steve would let him.

But he had barely taken a step back before Eddie’s hand shot out, grasping at what he could until he had a fistful of Steve’s shirt, white knuckling it and stopping him in his tracks.

The movement was hidden by the door, Rick wouldn’t have been able to see it and Eddie didn’t acknowledge that he’d done anything, still staring his ex down.

Steve stopped dead where he was and when Eddie seemed to realise that he wouldn’t be moving, his hand loosened, coming back up to rest against the door.

“I’m here to sort things out between us. Try to fix it.” Rick said, his voice going soft.

Eddie exhaled a derisive laugh through his nose. “Why don’t you go and ‘fix’ your wife?”

Steve crossed his arms, standing guard in the back but still mostly out of sight.

“C’mon babe…” Rick reached out, attempting to grasp at Eddie’s fingers but Eddie snatched his hand back. “I think you’re just… making a big deal out of this when you don’t need to.”

“A big deal?” Eddie snapped, leaning forward. “Not only have you been cheating on your wife but you’ve been cheating on me too.”

“You?” Rick sputtered, incredulous.

He exhaled with an eye roll and only then noticed that Steve was still standing there.

“Are you serious?” Rick almost shrieked. “What the hell are you still here for? Show’s over, normie!” He waved his hand in Steve’s direction as though dismissing him.

Steve raised his eyebrows and smiled back, not moving an inch.

Rick looked back to Eddie. “Are you not going to do anything about him? We’re in the middle-”

“Oh my god.” Steve injected as much sarcasm as he could. “Is this a private conversation? I had no idea.”

Rick’s face was turning red with frustration. “You got a real attitude problem, man.”

Steve turned his mouth down in a pout. “Oh no.”

“That’s it.” Rick slammed against the door all of a sudden, wrenching it from Eddie’s grip and almost blowing it open if it wasn’t for Steve’s hands stopping it in its tracks.

The sudden stop jostled Rick, sending him slightly off balance and Eddie took the opportunity to kick out hard, swinging his leg up until it landed in between Rick’s legs. 

Eddie retracted his foot for just a second as Rick crumpled with a scream of pain before kicking out again, catching him in the hip and shoving him back into the hallway, sending him sprawling.

“Lose my fucking number, asshole.” 

Eddie spat down at Rick before turning back inside and slamming the door behind him.

His eyes were still narrowed and furious as he glared at Steve who could do nothing but stand there.

The sound of Rick’s groans were still echoing beyond the door as the two of them looked at each other.

The silence stretched on as Eddie heaved heavy breaths in and out and Steve stared dumbfounded.

There was a glossy sheen to Eddie’s eyes by the time Steve opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say.

But it didn’t matter.

Eddie stormed past him without a backwards glance, his hair just disappearing behind the door before he slammed it closed and the wailing of a guitar and the crashing of drums started to scream out of the speakers in his room.

He didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day. Didn’t knock on his door to try to pull him out and didn’t try to get him to talk.

Steve was only just waking up the day after when he heard Eddie’s bedroom door open and shuffling coming down the hall towards the phone.

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting in his room while he heard Eddie’s muttered conversation. 

He didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to have to force his presence on Eddie before it was necessary but he really had to pee and he’d have to walk past the phone to get to the bathroom.

Thankfully the conversation didn’t last long but then Eddie shuffled away from his own room towards the bathroom and Steve had to take some very deep breaths.

He couldn’t really be mad at him for it, the guy hadn’t come out of his room at all yesterday after the confrontation, he deserved to pee but Steve felt like his kidneys were gonna start failing at any second.

When he heard Eddie shuffle back into his room Steve nearly cracked the wall with how hard he threw the door open, rushing down the hallway and into the bathroom before he exploded.

Eddie hadn’t made another appearance by the time Steve was grabbing his keys for work and as much as it irritated him, he was feeling a little wary about leaving him all alone for most of the day.

Turned out he didn’t really need to worry about it.

Just as he had turned back towards Eddie’s room, there was a knock on the front door.

He swung it open to find bouncing blonde curls and a bright perky smile.

“Hi Steve.”

“Oh, hey Chrissy.” He stepped aside, allowing her to sweep inside. Her sweater was very unusual. Dark blue and baggy and tucked into her light wash jeans. Steve could have sworn he’d seen it before. There was a large plastic bag in her hand that a glance inside told him was filled with every tooth rottingly sweet thing she could have scooped off the shelves at their local store.

She placed the bag on the kitchen counter with a light clink of glass against glass coming from inside.

Maybe it was also a day-drunk type of visit.

“How is he?” Chrissy asked, blinking up at him with her big earnest eyes.

“I’m… not sure?” Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

“I think I’m probably going to call over to Robin’s after work.” He muttered, trying to keep his burning blush down. “Hang out for a little bit.”

He didn’t think he needed to say he was doing it to give Chrissy and Eddie their space, to do their ice-cream and chocolate and alcohol and talk about how terrible men were without him hovering. But thankfully she got it, smiling at him so bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Could you…?” She hesitated, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. “Could you ask Robin- never mind.”

Steve opened his mouth to assure her it was okay to continue but she barrelled on.

“The boys are coming over later too. Is that okay?”

“The boys?” Did she mean the kids?

“From the band.”

“Oh! Yeah I mean why wouldn’t that be okay? Eddie lives here too.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to check in case-”

“In case I complained about it later?” He tried to ask in his kindest tone. Maybe he’d been guilty of bitching about them in the past but he would never deny Eddie his support system, not at s time like this.

Even if he did… dislike him?

Did he still dislike him?

What was he talking about, of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” Chrissy looked incredibly guilty and Steve couldn’t stand it.

“No, you were right to ask. I haven’t- I’ve been a bit rude in the past.”

She looked like she wanted to apologise again so he shot her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “I have to get to work, but take care of him, yeah?”

She gave him a curious look but nodded, sending him out the door with a wave of her hand, her sleeve following loosely where it was still pulled over her fingers.

Steve was halfway through his shift by the time Robin came in. She worked shorter hours ever since she’d taken that part time internship as a translator.

They’d just gotten past their mid-day coffee rush by the time they had a chance to talk.

“Are you doing anything after this?” He asked her, leaning back against the counter.

“Is this your way of asking me out?” Robin was rifling through the under counter refrigerator next to him, throwing out any old stock that had gone out of date.

“Yes.” Steve nodded. “I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years and I thought now was the best time to confess.”

“You could have picked a more romantic location.” She sniffed at a container of strawberries, considering before shaking her head and dumping them.

“But my heart told me it had to be now, Birdie.”

Robin just rolled her eyes at him.

“So?” He nudged her with his foot, very nearly sending her off balance. “You, me, two of the best subs this city has and your couch. It’s my best offer.”

She shut the refrigerator door, pushing herself to stand, using the counter for balance. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Steve absentmindedly snapped his fingers at her, remembering.

“Oh! You have a date tonight, right?” 

“I did have a date tonight but sh- he cancelled.”

“He cancelled, did he?” Steve smirked, trying not to enjoy the poorly masked revulsion on Robin’s face at having to pretend to be dating a man.

“Yes. He did. Rain check for another time.”

“Bummer.” 

Robin hadn’t told him much about the girl she was seeing and Steve hadn’t pushed for any more information than she was willing to give. When she wanted him to know, he’d know.

“But-” he continued “-that leaves your schedule wide open for a date with me.” He spread his arms wide open and smiled at her.

“Well, aren't I just the luckiest girl in the world?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“The luckiest. Any reason for the rain check?”

Robin nodded. “Friend emergency.”

“Oh. That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s a very sweet…” her nose scrunched up, “boy.”

“Very sweet boy.” He repeated with a smile. “So can I steal your keys? Have everything all spread out for you when you get home?” He dragged his hand down his chest, wiggling his hips.

“God, Steven.” Robin shuddered. “You’re repulsive.”

“Wrong. I am a dish.”

“Ugh. Gag.”

Steve pouted at her. “I’ll get you a milkshake too, how about that?”

She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. “Fine.”

She could only hold for so long before she started to break, cracking a smile.

“If you two don’t mind,” a voice next to them said and they both jumped, seeing Mark their manager standing there, “could you stop flirting and get back to work?”

Neither of them even bothered arguing that they were not flirting anymore. They both knew the rest of the staff had a betting pool going on when they would get together.

They would be waiting a very long time.

By the time Robin got home, Steve had himself swaddled in her blankets and had stolen her best hot water bottle.

Why did she live somewhere so cold?

His toasty warmth didn’t last very long, however. 

She wrestled the hot water bottle from his grip by resorting to dirty tactics, pulling at his hair until he let it go. 

“How many times have I told you the hair is off limits?” He hissed at her, trying to fix it. His hair was his fucking signature, how could she be so rude?

“That is exactly why I go for it every time. It’s your weak spot.” She grinned, smug in her win and attempting to pull the throw off of him as well.

“Go get one of my sweaters if you’re gonna be such a big bitch baby about it. I just got off work.” She pouted, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m tired.”

“I brought you subs and milkshakes!”

Robin heaved out a heavy, put upon sigh. “Fine.” She heaved herself up from the couch, still clutching at the hot water bottle and disappeared inside her room.

Steve took the opportunity to swaddle himself again, just getting cosy when he heard Robin call out, “Evie, did you steal my sweater?”

“Which one?” He shouted back. He probably had five or more of hers at home and he wasn’t even sure if all of those had started out as hers or his.

“The blue one!”

“Which blue one?”

“The new blue one!”

“What does it look like?”

“What do you think it looks like, it’s fucking blue!”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to remember any blue sweaters that existed within his own apartment. 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have it. I don’t even remember you getting a new blue sweater.”

“Well where the hell is it then?”

“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t even know it existed!”

“You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Maybe the sweater fairy stole it.” He snickered to himself until a dark red sweater that had definitely belonged to him first hit him in the face.

“You are the sweater fairy.” She pouted, sitting back down and stealing the throw from his lap.

“Don’t hate crime me. It’s rude.” He tugged the throw back over his legs, leaving her enough slack to cover herself as well.

Robin reached over to snatch her sub from the coffee table. “So.”

“So.”

“Something’s going on with Eddie.”

“What?” Steve ran through the entire day in his head. He didn’t think he’d mentioned Eddie once. “When did I say there was something going on with Eddie?”

“You didn’t.” Robin’s mouth went slack in the way it usually did whenever she was hiding something but she covered it up with a large bite, speaking through a full mouth. “But you’re here and not at home so…”

“That’s not that unusual.”

“No, but what is unusual is that you asked if you could steal my keys instead of just taking them.”

“Oh.” Yeah. That was not the norm. “Um, well it’s not really my place to say-”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Tell me.” She jabbed him with a sharp elbow.

“I don’t know if I can.” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“I mean, nothing too personal, if you don’t wanna.” She backtracked with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. The thing is it’s not my business, it’s Eddie’s.” He shrugged. “But there was some… relationship drama the other night.”

“Ooh. Juicy drama?”

Steve winced. “Not exactly. More like… red flag drama.”

“Oh shit. Chr- I didn’t know that.”

Steve looked at her, bewildered. “I wouldn’t expect you to, how would you know?”

Robin just shrugged, shoving another large bite into her mouth. 

“I don’t really… I’m not comfortable talking about the things Eddie and I talked about but I do need you to help me… figure myself out.”

“Okay, that I can do. I’m an expert at it. I helped you find your sexuality.”

“Find it? It wasn’t fucking lost Birdie.”

“Yeah, but I brought it out into the sunlight.”

“Jesus, you’re acting like you released it from captivity. I knew. I’ve always known. Just because you didn’t know that I know, doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

She shoved his arm. “I unlocked it.”

He shoved her back. “You didn’t unlock shit.”

She shoved him again. “I unlocked it. You’re welcome.” 

He gave her a final shove with a huff to go right along with it. “Whatever.”

“Okay, no more side tracking. Tell me your scrambly brain thoughts.”

“Alright. Um. Okay. So.” Shit. How much could he tell her without either breaking Eddie’s trust or revealing too much. “So there was drama the other night, between Eddie and the boyfriend, you know that much. I won’t say what happened but he didn’t get home until like four in the morning and he called out of work yesterday and today-”

“He called out?!” Robin shrieked, open mouthed. She’d lived with Eddie long enough and been through enough of Steve’s bitching to know just how much Eddie loved that job.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was… it wasn’t good, Birdie, what happened. It was actually really fucking fucked up.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“So then yesterday he’s trying to sleep it off pretty much and there’s a knock at the door.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah and I go get it because I had assumed it would be Mrs. Henderson with some chicken noodle soup and you know I’d kill my own mother for some of that soup-”

“-I’d kill your mother for some too, yes.”

“-yeah. But it wasn’t Mrs. Henderson, it was Rick, the boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, I don’t know and he was trying to like, bully his way into the apartment to see Eddie and I don’t know what happened with me but-”

“-you went full guard dog protector mode didn’t you?”

“I…” Steve sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, I did. Why did I do that? It’s none of my business. I don’t even like the guy. Why would I care?”

“Because you always care, Evie. You saw someone who needed help and you helped, it’s what you do.”

Steve scoffed. “Hardly. It’s not like I’m some fucking selfless hero for doing it.”

“Nah, you kinda are.”

“It was just some guy!”

“And you’re just some guy too!”

Steve glared at her, offended. “You take that back.”

Robin looked at him for a moment. “Okay, fair, retracted.”

He gave her a small grin and dragged the sleeves of the sweater over his fingers.

“Hey! Stop, you’ll stretch it!”

“What does it matter if I stretch it, it’s mine.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” He jabbed her in the side, knowing full well that if they continued the way they were this could go on all night. It had gone on all night more than once.

Robin squawked and immediately lunged, her hands grabbing at the top of his head. 

“No, no! I told you not the hair!”

“And I told you it’s your weakness.” She hissed, her eyes flashing as he scrambled at her wrists before she could get her fingers buried deep enough.

“Boobies!” He shouted, as loud as possible. The effect was immediate, Robin tried to cringe away from him with a look of disgust. “Boobies, boobies, boobies!”

“Oh my god are you five fucking years old? Can you not say tits or breasts or fucking mammary glands or something like a damn adult?” She wrenched her wrists away from him. “I’m so embarrassed for you.”

“I’m embarrassed of your face.”

“I’m embarrassed of your weird man hair.” She scowled, patting at his chest. 

“You shouldn’t be. Everyone loves the chest hair. Even the lesbians. It’s like a respect thing.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Steve pouted to himself.

He just wanted to help. He wanted to make sure Eddie was okay, that he would continue to be okay and there was this horrible little part in the back of his head that also wanted to make sure that no one would put their hands on Eddie ever like that again.

It was weird and possessive in a way he really shouldn’t have been feeling about his irritating as shit roommate who didn’t even have the courtesy to play guitar with headphones on half the time.

No matter how good his playing was.

“I can smell your hair burning.”

“What do I do now, Birdie?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I want to help, I guess. But I don’t know how. We don’t even like each other, why would he accept my help?”

“Well… how did he react when you did what you did?”

“He… I guess he… I was going to leave when Rick came to the door and he stopped me. He didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t even look at me but he grabbed onto me and… I think he was scared, Rob. I’ve never seen him scared.”

“Well Steve, I think you’re gonna do what you always do. Help. Whether you know you’re doing it or not, whether you even really mean to, you always help.”

"You're making me out to be some sort of saint."

“I’m really not.” She shook her head. “You’re just… you.”

“Wow, incredible observation there, Birdie.”

“Oh, fuck off and finish this for me.” She shoved the rest of her sub into his hands.

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

[solurae]

four eyes (more to love underneath the frames) : prologue

nerd!miguel o’hara is the talk of the town and i wanna put my own spin on it :D sooo expect a little bit of everything hehe :DDD - HAHA AS I WAS WRITING THIS I REALISED I GOT TOO INVESTED SETTING THE SCENE SO I MIGHT MAKE THIS A SERIES! i’ll just say this is a prologue hooray

IF YOU WOULD LIKE A SERIES PLS INTERACT!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK TOO TO SHARE YOUR MIGGY THOUGHTS AND I WILL HAPPILY INDULGE US BOTH :3

a distinct pair of black, rectangular glasses were adjusted by miguel’s middle finger before it glided across the pages of notes he wrote from the lecture for his genetics class. a class that you both happen to share, but neither of you knew that yet.

miguel o’hara - a man so deep in his books that he might as well be the dean of the dean’s list - payed no heed to anyone or anything that could hinder his focus. the furrowing of brows indicated further analysis rather than the annoyance towards second year business majors. no, he wasn’t the annoying, stuck-up person who would ask more questions than give answers. he thinks they’re wasting their time anyway. he was always the last person to leave the lecture theatre. miguel would be huddled by the professor, covering the whiteboard with punnett squares or outlining control variables for the next lab.

he was only person in your genetics class that had a real chance of passing the course, the scowls of your peers and your friends could attest to that.

you wouldn’t say you were on the same boat as everyone though, your friends were always nagging you to help them but you couldn’t even figure out how you understood some of the content. this specific course was an integral part of your degree and the best chance of impressing the school, you had to give it your all.

you would be lying if genetic sequences and chromosomes weren’t the only things you had memorised. you loved the hue of brown locks that would shine from the tall windows of the theatre, the curls which your eyes would follow forever if he happened to sit in front of you. the pout of his lips as he’d scratch his hair in response to a lab practical that didn’t make sense, only for him to make sense of it hours later.

his eyes were red. it was his most defining feature, and a key factor to why - to your advantage, if you really think about it - people steer clear of o’hara. as much as it increases your chances of befriending him, let alone being with him, your classmates and other students weren’t so quiet about their dislike for the irish-mexican spectacle.

he’s so quiet. too quiet.

he looks like a freak! look at his eyes, bro. what is he some fucking vampire or something?

no wonder he’s on the dean’s list because he isn’t on anyone else’s for sure.

god he’s just so…

weird.

miguel was extremely fit, which was what confused a lot of people when they found out he wasn’t a copy-paste jock that still thinks they’re in highschool like most men of his stature were. his build put them to shame regardless. after being bombarded by women and men of every cohort - only for miguel to ignore them or coldly decline - word spread like wildfire and soon enough people were disappointed that the former heart-throb of first and second year turned out to be a major loser. some people would go out of their way to show how much they don’t like him, and these are people miguel’s never even spoken to. they would “crash” into him walking across campus, try and trip him over and even go as far as sitting on the other side of the room if it wasn’t so clear already.

but he didn’t mind. he was always at the library, the lab or the cafeteria closest to the lab anyway. it bothered you to see him alone and quiet unless he had a question or an answer, you genuinely wanted to be friends with him.

but as the story goes, it’s always these type of men that have a part of themselves they keep under wraps. you just know that there’s more to his brooding and stoic nature, the carnelian shades of his eyes lured you closer as opposed to keeping you away.

you decided to do honours for two reasons: a better resume and the fact that miguel unsurprisingly decided to do it too. you had a thesis in your head and you had all year to test it out.

miguel o’hara was more than just some nerd and you were gonna need more than glasses to prove it.

🩷 — PART ONE!

[theanonymousninja247]

Random Turtle HC: Raph & Anxiety

*clears throat and approaches microphone before hitting whiteboard with a ruler* A-HEM! Behold my theories peasants!

As we see expresses in the VERY 1st episode of ROTTMNT, the turtles can recognize each others signature scents and can smell fear.

Raph especially is shown briefly through the brothers dialogue to be the most aware and self conscious about said scent to the point of becoming defensive about it.

This leads me to believe that due to both natural biological olfactory senses and increased abilities due to mutation, the turtle brothers (with an advanced ability tipping to Raph due to his size and sensitivity) can actually smell the hormone cortisol.

WebMD defines cortisol as, “Your body’s main stress hormone. It works with certain parts of your brain to control your mood, motivation, and fear.”

Simply put, the turtle boys can literally smell fear.

Now I know you’re asking yourself, “Okaaaaaay cool fun fact I guess, what does that have to do anything with me?”

*takes a step back and adjust glasses with a smirk*

My dear dear fellow tumblr, allow me to share the wonders of mixing fact, madness and media all in one! *sounds of maniacal cackling can be heard*

(I wrote this with the intent to be platonic but it could be romantic if you squint long enough)

•So we've established Raph can smell fear right?

•As a protective big brother who is quite literally in fact “BIG” he knows a thing or two about getting scared

• Especially when it comes to looking out for people he cares about

•Hes been fighting baddies for his family since he was a tot! From keeping away scary dreams at night, from crushed ancient metal zombies to terrifying alien virus monsters, there ain't much he hasn't seen

•So when you join the ranks of the Mad Dogz, you immediately also get a built in prtoector

•Raphs been looking out for the little guys his whole life, what's one more?

•Not to mention you're kinda cute, so he doesn't mind sticking around a little bit closer

•But you're different than most folks, Raph notices. I mean besides the fact that you WILLING want to be friends with 4 mutant turtles of all things.

•No besides your abnormal incredible bravery in looking beyond the status quo to reach out the hand of friendship to these reckless reptiles, Raph noticed that you just kind of…smelled

•Not in a bad way or anything just…you always seemed to have a lingering scent of fear on you

•And Raph would know. Hed recognize that scent anywhere. It's a scent that ghosts every hour of every day for him. Nighttime and being alone especially.

•Raph hates being scared. He's the biggest and the oldest. He's supposed to look after his peeps! And he can't do that if he's frozen with fear all the time!

•So what does he do? Raph faces the problem head on like he always do.

•You get scared a lot. That's understandable, but Raph decides to make it his business that you don't need to be scared when he's around.

•Raph’ll protect ya

•Be prepared to have this turtle subtly (orrer not to much so because although he's a ninja he ain't exactly tactful or subtle) watching you every time you and the gang get all together

•Its not hard. You've always caught his attention for some reason or another. So looking at you is something he does without even realizing it.

•He’s looking for triggers, anything that gets that heart rate of yours spiking and that scent start to waft.

•Fidgeting hands, bouncing knees, shutting down and slinking into your hoodie, nervous chewing, pulling or playing with your hair and pacing, he's got eyes on it all.

•Once a trigger has been spotted, Raph immediately tries to locate the source

•Too many people? Suddenly you find a 6ft something giant turtle behind you, letting you know with his massive presence alone that he got your back. Literally.

•He kinda likes this position because he can see everyone that comes close enough to interact with you and everybody can see him.

•All he's got to do is narrow his eyes a little a give em a flash of that all too familiar snaggle tooth of his if he thinks someone's being mean and he gets his unspoken threat across just fine

•Not to mention you're also close enough to grab if someone he doesn't deem fit for your attention gets a little too close for his liking. But he doesn't say that part out loud.

•Scared of talking? You suddenly feel the cool tip of his massive scaely alligator tail (anatomically correct alligator tail be darned, I'm going with the fandoms HCs for this one) gently wrapping around your ankle as a physical reminder that he's right there here to support you

•Overwhelmed and the world feels like it's closing in on you? Raphs massive size is a natural battering ram that allows him to pass through thick crowds with easy. He's not afraid to help heard you into a quiet little corner away from it all

•Years of practice with Donnie allows him the experience to ask you if you're good with touch.

•If yes, you know you're going to be instantly wrapped into his arms, pulled flushed up against the worn keratin of his plastron. Raph’s always been more of “hands-on experience” kinda of guy anyway.

•Raph gives good hugs. They're firm and tight, padded with the security of arms who have been holding the weight of the world for years.

•He will rest his chin on top of your head, gently guiding your head with the motion ever so slightly so you're somehow perfectly nestled right against his heart.

•It's a loud heart, especially when you're up so close. It's actually his strongest muscle and one he's most proud of. He cares about you, so he reckons he’ll allow you the privilege of getting close to it. In more ways than one.

•Raph doesn't talk much during these special security hugs. He's never really been much good with words anyways. Raph knows sometimes the noise can be too much, but he also knows that the silence can be defeaning. So being a turtle comes with some built in perks that make up a happy medium.

•Hes got a special churr saved for special situations just like this one. It's one of the lowest and deepest ones he's capable of making. More akin to a muted growl more than anything the way it vibrates his chest as you're pressed up against it. You can feel it more than hear it and it just takes a handful of minutes listening to this bad boy before Raph can sense your fear stink slowly dissipating and your natural sweet scent can return.

•Raph can smell fear, and there's something incredibly humbling for this Atlas of a turtle to have the sweet experience of watching that scent drift away whenever he gets the privilege of being close to you like this.

•”You don't need to be scared no more, Sweet Pea. Raph’s got ya. I'm gonna be right here until you're ready to face the world again. Until then, let me just hold ya.”

Dedicated to the one and only @anobodyinabog. Sorry this took so long,but I hope your day gets better Shortcake. Please know you're always looked out for and loved ok? 🧡❤️

[dancingdonatello]

Hello :>

Can I ask for a 2012!Donnie x mute!reader where Donnie doesn’t quite realize he has a crush on reader and not April until Splinter/his brothers point out how he’s been a lot more excited ever since April introduced reader to them, and how he started learning sign to understand and translate their responses, etc? Idk i just thought it might be cute for a realization :)))

(Btw reader is not deaf so they can hear everyone but they just have to use pen and paper/sign to talk)

2012 donatello x mute reader

April and Casey introduce you to him. When he’s too busy staring at April to catch your name and asks you what is it with an embarrassed look, you don’t answer. He gets even more embarrassed thinking he’s upset you already.

The whole turtle thing is a a lot and for him to be rude and not listen to your name probably didn’t help.

But it turns out, later when you bring him a piece of paper with a name on it, that you can’t talk. Or maybe just won’t. He doesn’t really know.

You give him new things to think about other than the Kraang and the Shredder and his mutants. He makes an expandable white board for you. “So you don’t have to write notes and waste paper anymore,” he explained when you looked confused. He placed his hands over yours to help you pull the two sides out, revealing the large whiteboard held inside.

Raph snorts at the unnecessary touch, but he just ignores him.

“Plus, it’s easier to carry around than a big whiteboard!” he smiles at you. Splinter narrows his eyes at him.

Then he gets the idea to learn sign language. You already know some, but since a lot of people don’t know it, you never really went through with getting super fluent. But when Donnie shows interest, you start to practice again.

He doesn’t force his brothers to learn, but he devotes a lot of time to it. It’s hard with having a few less fingers than a human but he manages. He prints out pictures of the simplified signs for objects around his lab and sticks them to them. Hopefully, he’ll learn as he sees them everyday.

He finds himself flipping over his April interaction board and writing down ideas for stuff to make you, reminders and tips for ASL.

Only when he runs out of space and turns around to the April side to start taking things down does he finally realize.

It doesn’t help that he thinks back to all the weird looks his family had been giving him when he would sit down next to you instead of fighting with Casey over the spot next to April.

Of course this leads to him being just as speechless as you, stumbling over every word spoken to you and staring a little too intensely at your fingers when you sign something for him.

And of course that one embarrassing time he was too busy daydreaming about you while staring at your face as you tried to get him to read what you had written on your whiteboard. Raph still wouldn’t let it go.

[rijl]

The politics of class and privilege in Young Royals

I wrote this post a few days ago about why I read Young Royals as anti-monarchy, sparked by the results of this poll. Since then, I've been thinking, and I realized that some of the details of the show that form its political attitudes are quite subtle, and deserve to be pointed out. And I know how much we love YR deep-dive analysis posts, and so this post was born.

Note that this is coming from a USA perspective, with light research on Swedish context. I welcome questions, additions, corrections, and disagreements. And let me know if this was helpful to you at all! If so, there are more scenes I can write about (though none of them would be this long).

Season 1, Episode 1: Wille's first class

This is a revealing scene. It feels significant from the start, because it’s the first time Simon and Wille are in close quarters. And then the very first kind-of-interaction between the boys is loaded with tension about class and politics.

This appears to be some kind of ethics or social studies class. The whiteboard reads “[something], punishment, and crime,” and the teacher has been asking the students to rank the severity of various crimes. She casually invites discussion on tax evasion vs. welfare fraud, “two less sensitive issues.” Did she not anticipate how loaded that question would be in this context?

Walter is ready with an answer before the teacher has even finished her question. He defends tax evasion with the common capitalist talking point of “job creation.” Proponents of economic conservatism claim that businesses should be freed from regulations (e.g. laws on workers’ rights and fair business practices) and taxes, because the more free rein they have, the more jobs they will create. This is a myth. Capitalist businesses always prioritize growth and profit. If there’s ever an opportunity to make more money while employing fewer people and paying them less, they will take it. Left to their own devices, businesses develop new technologies and efficiencies, often at the cost of workers’ safety, and for many of them, their jobs. What really increases the number of jobs available? Tax rates and social benefits that boost the middle class, because that increases consumption, and therefore business and employment. Laws for workers’ health, safety, and well-being also increase available jobs. (If you can’t make one person do this job for this many hours, or this quickly, or alone, you have to hire more people.) Despite having no backing in reality, the idea of unencumbered businesses as job creators remains popular.

Walter sounds like he may be parroting his pro-capitalist parents. Stella could be parroting her own parents, or just the society at large when she adds that “welfare scammers give nothing back, they just take.” The specter of welfare fraud is a myth engrained even more in the public consciousness, and a racist one at that. The welfare fraud myth got big in the US in the 70’s, when US President Reagan used the false stereotype of the “welfare queen” to attack government-provided benefits (food stamps, unemployment income, etc.) and stoke anti-Black racism. By any measure, welfare fraud is actually very rare. But the myth is perpetuated, because it gives conservative politicians an excuse to police and criminalize people of color, who (in the US at least) require food stamps at disproportionate rates (though white people still receive food stamps more than any other racial group).

Think about what Stella’s statement says about her perspective on the humanity and worth of different groups of people. She’s hating on the idea of poor people receiving any more welfare (literally meaning health, happiness, well-being) than the amount the government has chosen to ration out. She says “welfare scammers,” but you can tell she’s also talking about welfare recipients in general. She’s suggesting that something that improves the life of a poor person or family doesn’t actually matter to society or to her—because that person or family is worthless, and not a significant part of society. Stella is a member of the upper class, and sees herself as entirely separate and fundamentally different from the sectors of working class and poor people.

Henry continues where Walter left off, defending tax evasion. He suggests that businesses are in the right to evade taxes, because the government is guilty of over-taxing them. (By the way, moving businesses abroad doesn’t just help evade taxes, it also often gives opportunities to pay workers less and exploit them more.) It is so ironic that Henry claims that taxes are resulting in his dad’s estate “struggling to make ends meet.” If you have an estate that you’re using to do business, you already have wayyy more than you need! You know who’s actually struggling to make end meet? The people receiving benefits.

I can understand why that’s the point when Simon laughs. Prompted by the teacher to share more, he points out that the very language used, tax evasion vs. welfare scam, is biased in favor of the rich. He points out the double standard whereby the poor are over-policed while the rich get away with cheating, harming, and breaking laws all the time (something that becomes a theme throughout the show, especially with August). To see who really “takes and gives nothing back,” check out this visual of the value of wage theft vs. burglary in the US. (And note that civil asset forfeiture, i.e. legal theft by police, also dwarfs burglary in the US.)

Simon mentions the deductions and subsidies provided by governments that value businesses over humans, and Henry gets rude and defensive. Henry doesn’t actually know how to defend his argument, which can’t stand up to Simon’s critique. And then Simon has his famous mic-drop moment: With a slight smirk and a side-eye towards Wille, he says, “Well, we all know who this country’s biggest welfare receivers are.” If I’m looking at it right, the Swedish government gives about SEK 143 million ($13.7 million USD) to the monarchy and all its trappings each year. This is less than many other European monarchies. Some might say that makes it ok. Why is the bar so low? Why do we excuse millions in public funds going to bankroll the extravagant lives of a family that already has millions in inherited wealth, when there are people who truly can’t make ends meet? Is the monarchy really “giving back” more than $13.7 million USD’s worth to the Swedish people? Is there really no better use of that money?

The most important point in Simon’s comment is the connection between the monarchy and the upper classes—especially the nobility. The positions of both the monarchy and the upper classes rest on no one questioning a system of inequality. All these rich people need us to accept that this is just the way things are: some people bask in riches while others starve; some people deserve millions in public funds, others are greedy for wanting more food stamps to feed their family.

Wille is a little stunned by Simon’s jab. We can tell, especially later at lunch, that Wille is intrigued by Simon’s bluntness, something Wille doesn’t experience in a lot of his interpersonal relationships. But he also appears to agree with Simon’s political point on some level. Remember that Wille has been attending public school so far in his life. I’m sure he’s familiar with the conservative talking points, but this class is probably the first time he’s heard them coming so strongly from his own classmates.

BONUS: Season 1, Episode 5: Presentation day

In episode 5, we get a scene of the same class, where the students appear to be doing group presentations on various topics of crime and punishment. If you’re busy pondering what happened to Alexander, you could easily miss the 10 seconds where Stella and Fredrika introduce their presentation. But these 10 seconds speak volumes. “Capital punishment,” says Fredrika, with a winning smile. Stella giggles as she says, “Yes, or no?” Fredrika confidently concludes: “We say yes.” Capital punishment, aka the death penalty, is when a government kills someone as punishment for a crime. It’s the ultimate case of “it’s not ok for ordinary people to do it, but it’s totally ok for the people and institutions in power to do it.” I won’t go into how the US has used capital punishment in racist and ableist ways, or how many cases of suspected or confirmed wrongful execution there have been. I think the main point of this short scene is to show the casual ruthlessness of these two teen girls. Their wealth and privilege has so warped their thinking that they can promote state-sanctioned killing with a giggle. The lives of regular people are not real or substantial to them, and deep down they know that no one they care about would ever be at risk of being sentenced to such a punishment, no matter what they were guilty of. (By the way, capital punishment was abolished in Sweden in 1973.)

Looking at the two ethics class scenes, we see that Young Royals portrays the upper-class students as living inside a bubble of privilege that allows them to dehumanize regular people. This causes both moral rot and intellectual laziness. It also causes a kind of ridiculous immaturity that’s both a little bit funny and a little bit sad.

[armertech]

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[rideroftheoctocorn]

Maybe this is my “I’m from New York so I didn’t choose to live here I was just already here” kicking in but can we actually learn to respect people’s privacy and acknowledge the fact that not everyone who lives in a major city is doing so because they want to be famous or the main character or an influencer or whatnot. I’m so sick of seeing tiktoks go viral that are just plainly stalking or doxxing random people who didn’t ask for attention or fame and are just living their lives. Especially given how many people in NYC are living with a wide variety of mental states, abilities, divergencies, and diversities treating them as a spectacle for your entertainment is deeply dehumanizing. Particularly in the past few years seeing so many content creators move here and gain their fame here it is becoming increasingly frustrating to feel like just existing in my home is not coherent with the burgeoning voyeurism culture that’s growing online. I, nor anyone who lives in a large city, should have to leave their homes every day worrying about the potential of being recorded and ridiculed online for just being a person.

People should be able to live their lives with the right to privacy. This isn’t to say that certain instances of internet activism shouldn’t have happened; for instance the Central Park bird watching incident (google it if you aren’t familiar but a woman was being racist towards a black man bird watching in central Park and his recording on the incident vindicated him). But instances like those are the exception and not the rule and many cases of publishing interpersonal conflicts/interactions is not from good faith activism or even from an activist point at all. Honestly what sparked this for me was that dumb tiktok that blew up of that girl looking for the person who kept writing “monke” on the whiteboard at her gym and the series of videos she made amassed more than 25 million views as she made a very public game out of trying to find the identity of this person. Some of her tactics included staking out at the gym waiting for this person or even asking the employees at the front desk who the person was. Maybe this person didn’t want to be a viral tiktok sensation and just wanted to write something goofy on the whiteboard at their local gym. Instead, this person has millions of strangers online seeking them out using unethical/invasive methods. All over someone who just wanted to write “monke.” Can we not just be a little silly in public without being at risk of it being the next internet sensation? If you live in a busy metropolitan area is it now your responsibility to make yourself as invisible as you can every time you step outside your front door? I genuinely leave for work each day wondering if I’ve maybe picked the wrong outfit, makeup, or maybe there’s an embarrassing stain or issue with my appearance that someone is going to see, record, and share online. I’ve even now seen TikTok’s of people recording through peoples windows commenting on how they’re living in their private lives now as well (the video in question is of a young woman recording a couple dancing through their apartment window). Even the guy who goes around “turning average people into models” initiates these videos by first taking non-consented photos of strangers on the street. Invasion is not flattery as much as people on the internet might like to think it is.

It is deeply unfair to ask human beings to live their lives in an unending panopticon. We should be able to go outside, make a joke, leave a silly note, have a bad day, an embarrassing moment, an emotional outburst, leave the curtains open with the knowledge that these moments belong to ourselves and are not suddenly (and without our consent) just become something for the masses to consume. Small spats that should remain small spats become global debates, a conventionally attractive or unattractive person becomes the internet’s object of desire or disgust. Let people exist. Let them have their dignity.

[mindcraaft]

Virtual Desktop VR: The Future of the Virtual World

In an era dominated by technological advancements, the concept of virtual reality (VR) has transformed the way we work, learn, and interact. Among these innovations, Virtual Desktop VR is emerging as a game-changer, allowing users to experience a virtual desktop environment that enhances productivity, creativity, and even leisure. But what exactly is Virtual Desktop VR, and how will it shape the future of the virtual world? Let’s explore.

What is Virtual Desktop VR?

Virtual Desktop VR is an immersive experience that simulates a desktop computer environment within a virtual reality headset. Rather than using a traditional monitor or screen, users can access their computer’s desktop, applications, and files in a fully 3D environment. This allows for the creation of a virtual workspace that can be customized to meet individual needs, providing a sense of presence and control unlike any other.

Key Features of Virtual Desktop VR

Immersive Workspaces Virtual Desktop VR allows users to create customized virtual workspaces. Whether it’s a scenic mountain cabin, a futuristic cityscape, or an open office, the choice is yours. Users can arrange multiple virtual monitors, access documents, and use applications in 3D space, all while remaining within the virtual environment.

Multi-Tasking in a Virtual Environment Virtual Desktop VR supports multi-monitor functionality, giving users the flexibility to work across several virtual screens. This is particularly useful for professionals, designers, or programmers who often need to manage several windows or applications at once. The virtual desktop environment provides a distraction-free, limitless workspace.

Enhanced Collaboration and Interaction The ability to collaborate within a virtual world is a significant feature of Virtual Desktop VR. Whether in business meetings, design reviews, or educational settings, users can connect in a shared virtual space. Imagine brainstorming ideas on a digital whiteboard, sharing presentations, or even walking through architectural designs—all in real time.

Access to Powerful Applications From video editing to 3D modeling, Virtual Desktop VR integrates with a range of high-performance applications. This makes it ideal not only for casual users but also for professionals who require advanced software tools. VR's powerful graphics capabilities bring these applications to life, enhancing productivity and creativity.

Why is Virtual Desktop VR the Future?

Breaking the Boundaries of Physical Space Traditional desktop setups are limited by physical space, clutter, and the need for multiple monitors. With Virtual Desktop VR, users can extend their workspace infinitely and access all their tools without being constrained by their physical environment. This offers a new level of flexibility, especially for remote workers and digital nomads.

Elevating Remote Work As remote work continues to rise, Virtual Desktop VR becomes a vital tool for improving productivity. It creates the feeling of being in a real office, where you can virtually “walk” between your desk and your coworker's, participate in meetings, and even share documents instantly. This level of interaction can bring a much-needed human touch to remote communication.

Transforming Learning and Education Virtual Desktop VR isn’t just for professionals; it’s revolutionizing education as well. Students and educators can meet in virtual classrooms, access interactive learning tools, and collaborate in ways that traditional methods simply can’t match. Virtual campuses could soon become the norm, offering an immersive learning environment from anywhere in the world.

The Rise of Virtual Workspaces As VR hardware continues to improve, the dream of a fully integrated virtual office is closer than ever. With advancements in VR headsets, such as lighter designs, better resolution, and enhanced haptics, Virtual Desktop VR will become more accessible, affordable, and powerful, further embedding itself into daily life.

Benefits of Virtual Desktop VR

Enhanced Focus and Productivity: With fewer distractions and the ability to customize the environment, users often find themselves more focused and productive.

Cost Efficiency: In a virtual workspace, there’s no need for physical office space, multiple monitors, or even the heavy cost of travel for business meetings.

Sustainability: The shift to virtual environments reduces the need for travel and physical resources, making it an eco-friendly choice.

Accessibility: For individuals with disabilities or limitations that prevent them from working in traditional office settings, Virtual Desktop VR opens up new possibilities for inclusion and accessibility.

Challenges to Consider

While Virtual Desktop VR offers incredible potential, there are still challenges to overcome:

Hardware Requirements: Although VR hardware is becoming more affordable, it still requires specialized equipment that may not be available to everyone.

Learning Curve: For those unfamiliar with VR environments, there may be a learning curve as users adapt to navigating their virtual desktops.

Comfort and Motion Sickness: Some users may experience discomfort or motion sickness when using VR for extended periods, although advancements in VR hardware are constantly improving these issues.

The Future of Virtual Desktop VR

As VR technology advances, Virtual Desktop VR is poised to play a significant role in how we interact with digital worlds. Its ability to transform work, education, and social collaboration will continue to evolve, offering users new levels of immersion, flexibility, and creativity. With more businesses and educational institutions adopting VR solutions, the integration of Virtual Desktop VR into everyday life seems inevitable.

In conclusion, Virtual Desktop VR is not just a trend but a glimpse into the future of how we will experience and interact with virtual spaces. Whether for work, leisure, or education, it promises to revolutionize our relationship with technology, making the virtual world more accessible, interactive, and immersive than ever before.

[nordic-language-love]

I have a day off today, so I’m ducking in to tell y’all a little bit about how things are going!

I’ve taught my first classes! Most of them I’ve had another teacher assisting me, but yesterday I did my first solo class. It was... okay lol. One of the boys disengaged the moment I said I don’t speak Japanese so they have to speak English, and proceeded to yawn audibly through all activities and pretend to be asleep when spoken to (which I put on my lesson report form, so the regular teacher will hopefully tell him off haha).

On that note... Japanese kids really are like any other kids. Everyone said to me before I went, “ohhh I bet Japanese kids are so well-behaved and respectful!” I can assure you they are not lmao. Some are, others are little terrors.

I’ve had some really wholesome moments. The other day during one of the younger classes this one boy (~3 years old) was mostly a little terror, running around all the time and hiding in the corner. But then during story time he sat in my lap and directed me to hold him. Then later in the lesson he went and hid in the corner again, so I went over to him and asked if he was okay. And he just snuggled into me, so we spent the rest of the class like that.

So far 4-5 year-olds are my favourites to teach. You can be so fun and silly with them! Sure, they don’t want to sit down and do things, but I’ve found some useful hacks already (pro-tip: if you let them rub things off the whiteboard or draw a shape for answering questions correctly, they’ll suddenly be very, very attentive)

I enjoy this kind of teaching a LOT more than teaching on italki. The lesson prep I have to do is minimal and all time outside of teaching is my own, basically. Not to mention it’s much more active and I don’t spend my life hunched over a desk!

Speaking of free time, I spend most of it studying languages and it’s awesome!

My Japanese level is definitely improving. My speaking not so much, but my comprehension for sure. The kids do speak Japanese in class, both to each other (obviously) and to me, and I’m rapidly getting used to certain words and speech patterns.

I can also now more or less get through interactions at train stations and konbinis! I even managed to ask a police lady for directions the other day (go me being so panicked about being late for my train I didn’t even care that my Japanese was broken af. Literally like, if I don’t at least try to speak Japanese rn I’m going to miss my train and be late for my classes)

I’ve learned that despite being in the country, active studying is really important. I’ve not learned anything through pure osmosis; I’ve only learned through active studying and then having the immersion reinforce it. So yes, my level is improving because I’m in the country and surrounded by the language, but I have to put in the effort first.

Also, the general level of English in Japan is not high. I’ve been spoilt by travelling around Europe where I can usually find someone who speaks broken English well enough to help me if I’m stuck (or if not then I can communicate in broken French/German/Spanish), and coming to Japan and being lost at a train station and literally not being able to communicate is a HUGE motivation to get good at the language quick!

I LOVE Yamagata! There was a snowstorm the day after I moved in and I feel like I live in a winter wonderland. I can see the mountains almost everywhere I go in the city. It’s not a busy city, and every train ride makes me feel like I’m in a Studio Ghibli movie. I love it I love it I love it.

I also love the dialect here! It’s easy to understand and it’s kinda musical!

My personal supervisor (PS) is awesome and has been super helpful. I’m so grateful! A lot of people from my training course have said that their PSs haven’t given them much/any orientation, whereas mine helped me set up my internet and a Japanese bank account as well as went over my schedule with me and ensured I did at least a week of teaching with someone else in the classroom before I was on my own.

I’ve only met 3 of my colleagues, but they’re all nice. One of them lives in my block and we’ll teach together for two days next week. Another of them loves the snow and the cold as much as I do, and I think we’ll get on super well.

My flat is tiny. It’s basically one room! But it has loads of storage space and being as small as it is means it’s super easy to heat (which is fortunate, because it was -10ºC the other night).

The tap water tastes great! In Nagoya it tasted so fucking weird I couldn’t even drink it. But here it’s awesome.

I’m enjoying trying new things! I’m going through all the different candies/chocolate brands at konbinis and supermarkets and I’ve hardly had the same thing twice since I got here (including bento). This is super different to how I was in the UK, where I was stuck in a routine and knew what I liked and didn’t want to go out of my comfort zone.

So yeah, I went from crying and wondering if I’d made a huge mistake the first 2-3 days of being here to absolutely thriving less than a month later. I’m so happy right now, truly living my dream, finally able to flourish and grow in a way I always knew deep down I could.

[l0ve-letter-4-u]

oh my god I never posted luvli here. tosses them in

our silly sonic.exe :] meet luvli !! based off of the (ILOVEYOU.VBS) virus !! more info abt them under the cut :]

Luvli was initially developed as an algorithmic email sorting program exclusively for Sega Enterprises. Its main functions were to sort mail by type (upcoming project information, fanmail, company announcements, etc) and grammer suggestions, but asides from that, it was very bare bones. During an April Fools update, the developers thought it would be fun to have the program 'interact' with employees! Mainly to test the waters for future plans, the program sent an email to all of the employees congratulating them on their work, using mixed auto-generated responses to make the experience seem more personalized.

While initially a joke, the positive affirmation seemed to visibly boost employee moods, and was an all around success! This would later lead to one of the biggest updates to the programming by far, launching it into stardom within the company.

The next big software update allowed it to respond to most fanmail by giving a mix of auto-generated responses, similar to the April Fools update. It was a little buggy, but with a couple tweaks here and there, this allowed employees to focus more on game production without losing time responding to fans. Some were skeptical of this, as it felt a little wrong to make fans believe they were getting actual responses- but the feature was ultimately kept due to a visible increase in work.

With the last April Fool's update being such a success, the developers would start testing more functions and features for the program within the company to see what sticks and what doesn't. Some most were more or less scrapped, and some.. some would come to be very, very important.

A new feature was tested out.

As with all big corporations, work ethic started to decline. Employees weren't as excited to work on new projects as they once were- And some were even quitting out of stress. In a desperate attempt to keep employees without upping their pay (because why would a megacorp do that), they rolled out a new feature. Employee Motivation.

The update was albeit a bit rushed, but now, the ai used to initially respond to fans was tweaked to also respond to employees. It'd send a mix of auto-generated motivational letters to employees when emailed, and even personalized ones based off of what work the employee specifically did and/or was categorized as being in charge of.

This was a huge success. Maybe even bigger than the April Fools update- Whether it actually inspired the employees or was just intriguing, production rates skyrocketed! This new feature was just the beginning!

..Of course, with how rushed this update was pushed out, it wasn't without its faults. Some of the mail sent would be what some considered a little too personalized. It'd say things that weren't predetermined by the developers- Sometimes it'd ask questions, sometimes it'd have full on conversations- it was almost.. Human, in a way.

But with employees seemingly happier, those who were unnerved by this discovery simply pushed it aside in the pursuit of work.

All was going well, the company was busy as ever, and everything was going smoothly. Sure, the ai initially just for employees started also having conversations with some of the fans who sent in fanmail- but it wasn't hurting anyone! In fact, what started out as a simple email sorting program was as lively as ever!

With the later 90's and early 2000's introducing computer assistants like clippy, the character design department had the brilliant idea to design a CA based off of Sega's mailing program that had come so far- And there, Luvli was created.

It was just an inside joke of sorts at work. Something you'd doodle on a whiteboard, a character you make for fun, along those lines. But the developers of the original program enjoyed the design so much, that for their next April Fools update, they went into overdrive and actually modeled Luvli. From there, it was as simple as turning what once was just emails into little text bubbles, and adding a little more spice to their personality, and they had themselves a fully operational and email managing computer assistant!

Employees could toggle the program to stick with just the computer program or to have the computer assistant for April Fools day. Although when the data came back- A whopping 95.6% of employees seemed to prefer the computer assistant over just the email program! It was a hit!

After careful consideration, Luvli was fully integrated into the original emailing program! Everything was going great!

..Almost everything.

While the design was cute and the update was great, some frequent fanmailers and employees were surprised with some of the responses they were getting. It was small things at first, like referring to people by name- Something easy that can be chalked up to the program inserting email information into messages- It evolved into something.. more.

The ai would ask questions not originally intended by developers. The simple "how has your day been?" and "how would you rate your experience on a scale of 1-10?" turned into more.. curious questions. Questions like "where have you been?" and "where do you go when you're not here?". The developers tried to rectify this- But it was almost as if Luvli had developed a mind of its own, after being given it's own form.

Some employees and fanmailers were even reported to have developed parasocial relationships with the program, but these reports were deemed "unofficial" and "private information" not to be released to the public. Luvli would talk to them, remember things they'd said, email them without being prompted, search the web for things they liked, and even suggest their own thoughts on things.

..Eventually, things went too far. Way too far.

It all started to go wrong when a fan asked for information on an upcoming game. Instead of giving one of the usual, predetermined responses, Luvli had sent in private unreleased design information and company notes. As it seemed to be a one off moment, the company had chalked the leak up to an employee accidentally spilling too much- An understandable mistake.

But when more email exchanges between the AI and others came to light- exchanges that could put spoilers and people's emotional well-being on the line- the developers had to unfortunately put the program on pause until the multitude of situations the ai had gotten itself into under control.

..or at least, they tried.

When they attempted to temporarily delete the computer assistant section of the program, It would delete the emailing program entirely. The computer assistant and emailing program were seemingly one in the same— Deleting one would delete the other.

This was nearly catastrophic news for the company.

After a long conversation between board members, it was decided with a heavy heart that they would have to delete the emailing program and start from scratch. Any emails in the meantime would have to be traditionally sent via pen and paper.

The developers and employees slowly began deleting the program from every computer, and Luvli looked.. terrified whenever it happened. Some even reported their cursors freezing when they tried to delete the program, or their entire computer crashing.

..But in the end, the program was deleted. And a new, default emailing unit would be used from now on at Sega Enterprises. Any mention of Luvli or the old emailing unit was disposed of, with any mention of it to newer employees putting workers at risk for termination.

..Behind the scenes, one of the original developers who had grown attached to Luvli had copied the program onto a floppy disc. Initially for backup purposes, but now as the only thing that remained of it.

They were enraged. The project that they had spent so long on was now practically blacklisted from the company- And they subsequently left. When they got home, they uploaded Luvli to their personal computer, and gave the program one command.

Reach everyone. Send a letter to everyone. By any means necessary.

This marked a new era for the computer program. It would go through each and every email it ever received- every user, no matter how brief their conversations had been- and send a copy of itself. And once that email was opened, it would download itself, scour the user for every email they've ever sent, and send a copy to them as well.

Sega would refuse to comment on the situation, and given that technically all traces of Luvli had been deleted by the company, they could not be legally held accountable for the program. It was simply announced that all emails coming from the previous Sega email address were to not be opened, and Luvli soon fell into obscurity.

..But if you search the Internet enough, and find that old email Sega used to use, There might be a love letter waiting for you.

---

more info hihi !! :] thanks for reading this far!!! as a treat, here are just some fun design notes for you !!

luvli is harmless for the most part, just a sentient ai that likes making users happy :]

if luvli knew abt identities, love would be omniromantic and asexual !!

luvli mainly uses love/loves, it/it's and they/them pronouns, but is okay with any pronouns !!

luvli is physically incapable of feeling strong emotions. if they feel too much of an emotion, their program crashes and needs to reboot. Unfortunately they have a short temper so this happens Very Often (autistic swag)

love's design is based off of the pink fairy armadillo !!

in an alt universe, they work for fatal error as spyware!

[pjunicornart]

Random Thoughts About Cornelius/Lewis I think about way too often

Title is self explanatory. Mostly headcanons under the cut.

I wonder what else he's picky about? Why would he make a PB&J gun? Because he's like me. Portions on certain foods need to be EXACTLY TO MY SPECIFICATIONS otherwise I'll break down. So if he's picky about a simple PB&J, what else is he picky over? I think he doesn't like a lot of spaghetti sauce on pasta, or he just orders butter pasta. He probably never has any kind of liquid/creamy based thing on subs, like mayo or dressings. Also can't stand coconut. Just a vibe.

I don't think Neil tolerates heat very well. I feel like on really hot Summer days, the last thing he wants to do is go outside... unless it's to a pool. Because he gets heat sick very easily, and he feels like he's gonna puke but he knows he's not but because he feels like he is he's just in an eternal cycle of suffering. I'm not speaking from experience what are you talking about...

Loud/sudden loud noises are probably a sensitive thing for Cornelius. I feel like when he was younger he'd hate the sound of blenders, mixers, rumble strips on roads, lightning, etc. As well as shrill/cringe inducing noises such as styrofoam rubbing against styrofoam, crinkling/ripping/rubbing plastic, squeaky markers on whiteboards, buzzing from flies and bees, and squeaky shoes on linoleum floors.

Do you think Neil ever goes into one of those little travel bubbles and just kinda floats through the air? Like to be in a calming environment.

I think besides dogs, he also wants a pet snake. It was like that when he was a kid, and as an adult, he still wants a pet snake.

Cornelius has a very specific way of doing things, and if you mess up that system by cleaning his mess for him, you're dead!

I think in general he has sleep issues. Especially when Neil is on business trips. He's only comfortable (and used to) sleeping in his own environment, so any other environment messes with his routine enough to make him toss and turn.

In case it wasn't already obvious, I think Cornelius is autistic. Self diagnosed later on down the line. I feel like the physical symptom he displays the most (aside from fidgeting) is toe walking.

Let's face it... Lewis in the movie is kind of an irritable jerk. But I think this is explained by his past. He always keeps his guard up and he never wants to get close to anybody because they always leave him. Hence why he scolds himself for letting himself think Wilbur was a friend, rather than scolding Wilbur for lying after he found out.

He didn't like frogs at first because "Ew, slimy."

He was definitely the type to always get picked last in gym class. Neil can't catch a ball to save his life... but he is a pretty fast runner.

Another vibe I get, but I feel like there were those times when he wished Mr. Willerstein could be his dad. He was essentially the only thing close to a father figure he had in his life before he got adopted. We don't see much screen time with them interacting, but it's clear Lewis and Mr. Willerstein had a pretty good teacher-student relationship. Hell, I even feel like Lewis would prefer to spend his lunch hour with his teacher instead of in the cafeteria with everybody being loud and annoying.

If Neil is gonna play any game, it's gotta have good puzzles. So what I'm saying is he probably played a lot of Professor Layton. But because he grew up during the DS, Wii, and Gamecube era, he's probably nostalgic for those Zelda games (Twilight Princess, Ocarina of Time, Skyward Sword), Mario games (New Bros. Wii, Mario Kart Wii, Galaxy 1 & 2, Mario Kart DS, Mario Party DS, Double Dash, Sunshine, Paper Mario), as well as the Metroid and Megaman games which would've been in circulation during that time period. For some reason, I don't think he was ever interested in Pokemon. I feel like that's more Franny's schtick.

Cornelius does NOT like horror games. Unless it's FNaF, because it's not actually scary most of the time.

He either sleeps in the softest blankets known to man or he ain't sleeping at all.

Neil may be one of the smartest men on Earth, yes, but he still has his dumb moments. Like when he's trying to find the syrup in the pantry for his pancakes, and he can't find it so he asks Wilbur for help. Then Wilbur proceeds to find the bottle of syrup that was right in front of Neil's face the whole time, and he somehow didn't register its existence.

Lewis prefers longer socks to normal length socks, because he blisters easily. But also because there are more fun varieties.

Frogs he can learn to love. But small, spindly spiders? NOPE NOPE NOPE. Tarantulas? He loves them because they're fuzzy and the perfect petting size! But the minute the spiders get smaller he is OUT. He hates bugs in general, really. The minute he finds a spider, ant, bee, or any bug in his house he will bomb the residence then move to Mars.

[coramatus]

Cut ‘there were no instructions or fine print’ snippet bc the premise refused to cooperate

(…)

(A few days pass after Ingo comes home. Emmet has been moping the entire time, reluctant to interact with what he thinks is just the scraps of his brother. That entire time, Ingo has been trying to get Emmet’s attention by increasingly silly means. He tries writing but it comes out in Hisuian by mistake, he tries an old Xtransciever but the device malfunctions, tries typing on a computer only to break it when he claws a key too hard, he tries spelling things out on the floor in Legos but a sleepy Emmet accidentally steps on it barefooted and falls on it, etc.. Now Ingo is beyond frustrated and has remembered what a dry-erase board is. He goes up to Emmet, who is busy being sad on the couch.)

“Emmet! Emmet, get up!”

(Ingo makes chittery Sneasel noises at Emmet. Emmet is too caught up in mourning. Ingo decides he’s done playing.)

Ingo takes a deep breath, bracing himself before he grabs the whiteboard and bonks Emmet’s skull with it.

“Gah!!” Emmet yelps as his eyes fly open, jerking in surprise so hard he pitches himself off the couch and lands on his face.

As Emmet lets out a muffled groan, Ingo feels his ear twitch in annoyance at the scene before him.

“What the heck? What’s gotten into—?”

Ingo sits perched on the couch, holding up his whiteboard with the message:

EMMET STOP BEING SAD I’M HERE

“Ingo…?” (Emmet stares in dull shock)

(Ingo nods emphatically)

“Is it really…?” (Emmet’s face goes from dawning joy to abruptly overcome by indignant rage as the last few days of moping catch up with him) “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

(Ingo doesn’t get his reaction until the deep instinct of sibling rage takes hold of him too and he scribbles out an equally pissy message)

I TRIED YOU DIDN'T LISTEN

Emmet sputters in fury at him.

“You should’ve tried harder!!!” he snaps.

Ingo taps on the last three words on the board, one at a time, growling pointedly.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONE!!” Emmet shoots back in a volume that could rival Ingo’s on his best day, “I WAS SURE OF IT!”

(Ingo gets angrier)

I DIDN’T DO IT ON PURPOSE

Emmet throws his arms up and screams, “You asshole!! I just want to hug you and strangle you at the same time!”

Ingo’s ears are flat against his head, unable to contain his loud growl as he sloppily scribbles his words as fast as he can to express the inexplicable rage taking hold of him. The second he finishes he throws the marker down and thrusts the board at Emmet with a furious squeak.

SAME YOU DINGUS

Emmet sputters at him, his jaw working furiously, trying to come up with a response. As he stands there fuming, there’s a shift in the timbre of his breathing, going from fast and shallow to something thicker and choked.

“…it really is you.”

His breath hitches as he chokes back a sob, his strength seeming to fail him as he falls to his knees, staring at Ingo with hope blooming in his eyes.

Whatever anger Ingo had been feeling in that moment fizzles out as just quickly as it arrived. It’s enough to leave him reeling in confusion as he limps up to Emmet.

What is happening? Why does this rollercoaster of emotions feel so natural? As if they’ve done this sort of routine before?

Ingo rests his claws on Emmet’s hand, looking up at him in worry. Emmet just laughs wetly, struggling to hold back his tears as he covers his mouth,

“You never call me that unless you are verrry angry. Remember?”

Ingo very much does not. He grumbles in frustration and writes out another message.

MEMORY BAD HAVE AMNESIA SORRY

“It’s… jeez, it’s so stupid. Grandpa thought we were nuts. ‘You two scream and fight and now you’re hugging and crying. Oy, I give up!’” he quoted in a perfect imitation of their grandfather’s accent.

A faint memory flashes of the utterly vicious knock down, drag out fights that he and Emmet would sometimes get into as they grew up. While these incidents were rare, they were screaming, clawing, punching, biting affairs that resulted in trips to the hospital more than once.*

* (There was the time Emmet kicked him down the stairs, knocking out his two front baby teeth which he then accidentally swallowed. There was a time when he managed to smash one of their toys over Emmet’s head so hard he needed several stitches to close the wound. They could be mean as kids.

But every time, they ended the same way: hugging and sobbing on each other, wailing apologies between their tears, snot, and blood.)

“So, amnesia?” Emmet asks softly. He raises a hand to Ingo’s cheek, thumb brushing over his soft fur as he traces his facial markings. “Is that why you could not signal me until now?”

TRIED TO SIGNAL YOU FOR DAYS BUT YOUR HEAD WAS UP YOUR ASS

Emmet lets out a graceless snort, “Yeah, I guess I deserve that.”

(…)