#and i have a problem and that problem is called i am very not normal about these stupid fucking characters and ANYWAY to finally continue my

[avese23]

I read this three times and still can barely see how you missed the point so terribly and normally I would correct you kindly but this is not an academic space and this is about the honor of lesbians so claws open, friend.

OP didn’t mention sex. OP mentioned women. I didn’t mention sex. I mentioned lesbians.

Only you brought up sex. You saw the word lesbian and your mind jumped to sex. Put your angry typing thumbs down and examine that.

Now either you’ve blocked me, tuned me out, or maybe you’re still reading. Comprehension, that’s sexy of you. We can work with that.

OP from reasonable assumption, was discussing the phenomenon of people who primarily drift toward male characters but have internalized misandry beating them out of shape cuz how could anything masculine be positive? We need to feminize him. Here warps the misandry into misogyny as you see tumblr users turning “post your favorite female character” posts into “well, he’s a woman to me.” Hence frustration, especially because often times character traits seen as charitable and tropable in male characters are received with annoyance or hatred when seen in female characters. If you’re still paying attention, what’s your favorite color? Hence OPs point.

I, picking up on this context, could see where OP is coming from. The internet do be misogynistic. The internet also struggles with shame around liking men. A lot of spaces are one skip away from transmisogynist rhetoric, it’s concerning. Anywho, as someone who rarely sees this problem off the internet I offered a positive to the vent.

A little tongue in cheek but also great fucking advice. Because if you’re sick of people putting male characters on a pedestal there’s nothing like a lesbian to reinstate your faith in feminist approaches to media. Not because they have “temporary desires” (also what are you smoking?? cuz I get that I’m demi but you’re the first person aside from cis men named Brad I’ve heard call any feeling toward a woman a temporary desire.) but because however sick the average person might be of the gender gap in media, lesbians are more sick of it. Google “heteronormativity,” talk to anyone about the exhaustion of having men thrown at you when you’ve dedicated yourself to a lifestyle based on who you are as a person that specifically centers women. As people. Cuz lesbians are people. Repeat that for me if you’re listening.

Regarding the quotation you’ve put…(which, no clue where you got that from? Like genuinely did you reblog from the wrong post by mistake? If so feel free to delete this and block me cuz this would be very funny content if the dignity of my fellow dykes. Like I was upsetty for a second but this is the second most amusing tumblr mix up I’ve gotten so no hard feelings) you seem to be under the assumption that I don’t like lesbians?? Or that people who lesbians aren’t attracted to cant like lesbians?? Which is weird cuz lesbians are objectively cool af. And my ace gf is a lesbian who I’m very attracted to so…again I don’t know where you’re drawing your sparks from.

Tbh I don’t blame you if you haven’t gotten this far. My brain is on tired mode and your response was so off target that this is less even about responding to you and more my adhd hyperfixating on close reading your text in some futile attempt to see what straws you were grasping. I haven’t had time to get to my sociology tbr and I don’t have an essay due till next week so this was genuinely engaging for my brain. I can’t solve the puzzle of what mistake you made but maybe you have so rejoice to that. OP sorry this is on your post I do not know where they came from but I think I’ve shooed them off lol.

Anywho. Why are you still reading. Despite my greatest efforts I am not a lesbian. I’m an equally sexy dyke but not the same kind. Now go befriend a lesbian! This person is stalling for some reason but you don’t have to. Go talk about how Kylo Ren would have been more engaging if he was written as a woman. Go talk about how Faith Lehane deserved better. Go talk about how Harrowhark is trying her very best and needs a hug but please ask before touching.

And remember the three tenants:

1. Be respectful to lesbians. Implying they’re only about women for the sex is a harmful homophobic stereotype. Also if it were true my besties would be dating but we have a bookclub group chat where they perform literary analysis over fictional instead of flirting. Maybe this poster shouldn’t talk to them if you’re gonna be offensive. They’re busy reading.

2. If you want a meaningful relationship with anyone using terms like “temporary desires” is not a way to do it. “Oh but I don’t do that romance or sex stuff” ok but you can try doing the empathy and common sense stuff. Other people won’t find your dismissal of their sexuality “a flex.” It will make finding friends hard

3. If you’re having trouble explaining a point…maybe the point isn’t ready to be out yet. Don’t embarrass yourself by butting into a conversation that’s nothing to do with the frustration in your head. If you don’t like explaining things, or drawing off of actual sources, go to twitter. This might not be the site for you. There are a lot of lesbians here (ooo espooky) and women who know how to read (eee scary) and like to befriend each other (le gasppp) it can be a lot 😔 <- this is irony btw

"he's like a woman to me!!!" not true because if he was a woman to you you wouldn't give a fuck about him

[delirious-donna]

Chapter 1: The Perfect Home

pairing: vamp!Kakashi Hatake x female reader

No, this would be a long game and no fleeting meeting in a dark alleyway to alleviate the gnawing hunger in his stomach. You were not instant gratification. Cunning was required and he relished the thought of the chase that would be born from it.

The house was perfect. Love at first sight. A long abandoned stately home would be the perfect place to plant your roots and focus on your writing. There's only one problem... someone already lives there, and they can't wait to meet you.

wc: 3.4k

tw: vampire AU, smut/suggestive throughout, strangers to lovers, talk of blood, minor mention of suicide and parental loss, slight pervert Kakashi, dream sexy times, heavy(ish) petting, this will be the most tame part and I am not sorry for how jam packed full of smut this story will be, reader described as curvy

Masterlist (coming soon) | Part Two (coming soon)

Moving would never not be exhausting.

You panted heavily, dropping the box in your arms to the floor with a heavy thud that sent a flurry of ancient dust motes into the air. There were so many boxes still to be moved, and the thought alone pulled a groan of fatigue from your chest.

It would have been so much easier had you chosen a cute little apartment to move into, but no, you had fallen head over heels in love with a musty, dusty old mansion located in the arse end of nowhere. That alone spoke volumes about your personality—your desire to buck the norm and set your own path in life.

Imagination and creativity flowed through your veins like the very blood that continued your existence, and of course, when you came across the dilapidated mansion on one of your evening strolls, it would be love at first sight.

It was difficult to describe the immediate pull you felt towards the building as you gazed longingly at the high arched windows on the top floor, but it was right there in your chest, and you couldn’t deny it. Maybe it was the author in you that resonated with the now empty residence—imaging the place in its glory days and who might have called the place home.

There was no doubt that it had once been a majestic property, and it wasn’t at all hard to picture the gilded edges of the steep roof unbroken and sparkling in the last rays of the setting sun. The dark charcoal of the solid stone walls strong and unblemished and the ornately twisted wrought iron of the balcony railing a pretty addition to lean against and enjoy the summer breeze.

Heavy purple drapes still hung in the windows, and it gave the sense of someone or something wishing to hide from prying eyes despite being abandoned for so many decades.

Curious…

A ‘For Sale’ sign lay slumped against a mighty oak tree that resided just within the fearsome looking gates of the property, appearing as if it had been listed on the market for a considerably lengthy period without any interest.

You had to admit that the wickedly sharp spikes atop the gate might seem unappealing to some, but to you, it was simply another puzzle piece that intrigued you even more. Intrigued enough to pull out the notepad you kept tucked away in your purse for just such times. Normally, you used it to capture bursts of writing inspiration that struck at weird times, tonight you scribbled down the realtor details listed on the sun-bleached board.

When you finally turned to resume your walk home, the mesmerising spell of the house at last breaking enough to release you from your silent gazing, a shadow flitted across your vision from the tallest window. It was gone before you could refocus your gaze, a sharp intake of breath caught in your throat whilst an indescribable sensation swept through you.

It caused the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stand to attention, on alert for anything further. The moment dragged on, eyes fixed upon the window in question and your heart thundering in your chest. Was it a trick of the light or was your brain trying to convince you of things that simply were not there?

After the longest time, you moved away but the further you got from the house, the more you felt as if the place tried to call to you—trying to sway you back with a kind of magic you couldn’t comprehend.

~

The realtor had been rightly dumbfounded with your insistence of purchasing the property without asking for a full tour of the estate. They simply couldn’t realise how hypnotised you were with the place and that there was likely nothing that would sway you away from the decision to own the house.

When they realised you were a cash buyer—an impatient one at that—they became far more accommodating to your wishes.

According to the realtor, the property had previously belonged to the Hatake family, and it had been considered their ancestral home.

The Hatakes were a wealthy family with their hands both firmly into agriculture and the farming of the surrounding lands, dirtied by fertile soil and the sweat of hardwork. Those once rich farmlands now made up much of the nearby metropolis, where nothing fresh or green grew without a planning permit and enough paperwork to drown a person.

They had prospered well over a century and a half ago until a series of tragedies befell the family and ultimately resulted in their demise.

The biggest ink stain on the Hatake history was the tragic life and disappearance of the last born Hatake. The details of which were apparently still largely a mystery in these parts. It was a local story, and one that you had not previously heard of, but the realtor was more than happy to tell the tale for you.

The story went that the son departed the mansion one day after losing his father to suicide and had not returned. His mother had passed away during childbirth and with the only son missing, the house fell into silence and disrepair. Eventually, the bank became the owners by default and the property had stood uninhabited for nearly a century.

How could you not find that intriguing?

From there it was an easy descent into a rabbit hole of theories—considering the potential outcomes of this mysterious missing Hatake and wondering over the details of the apparent suicide of his father.

Your heart tugged for the young man, what a horrific set of events for any person to endure. Part of you could well understand why he may wish to disappear and hoped it hadn’t been as nefarious as the realtor tried to portray.

What you didn’t know at that point, but would soon discover, was that the missing Hatake had long since returned to his family home, and he was more than looking forward to introducing himself to you.

~

Kakashi Hatake, the rightful heir and owner of this property, paced the cramped room in endless agitation. He was not used to such confined spaces, having previously roamed his home freely since his return. In fact, he loathed to feel trapped. It had a way of bringing up unwanted memories and soured his mood.

His instincts were drowning him in unfamiliar sensations, his physical body reacting to the lone female presence that was so close and yet still so far. His headache only grew brighter behind his eyes whilst he continued to fight against his normal compulsion to rest during the daylight hours—hiding from the sun.

Running a hand through his unruly silver hair, he managed a deep steadying breath to regain his composure. He recalled the rage that had consumed him not even a few hours ago with a tight grimace and barely leashed growl. He was never going to react well to the presence of two men in his home, even if they were only carrying furniture into the various rooms whilst his new guest directed them cheerily.

He had not been pleased by their being there at all, yet he knew it was a necessity of the transition. Despite his best efforts at rationalisation, he continued to direct his awareness to pay close attention to the moving men. His mind was running riot at the mere thought of what perverse things a young female, such as yourself, could fall victim to by their grubby hands if given the chance.

How perfectly hypocritical of him.

The razor-sharp, elongated points of his fangs sank heavily into his bottom lip whilst he contemplated on all the perverse things, he wanted to do to you, and he hopefully would do, soon.

This was one of his favourite fantasies come to life, the pages of his well-thumbed romance novels becoming a reality that he was living, and the thought was a very pleasant one. It shamed him to do so, but Kakashi pressed his palm down on the front of his pants, the fabric far tighter and restricting on his growing erection than he wanted to admit.

He was a monster.

Kakashi’s hunger was practically palpable, nostrils flaring wide as he scented the delicate and intoxicating fragrance of your blood. It wafted easily to him as you wandered your new home, carrying boxes and examining the contents at leisure. Kakashi could only describe it as sweet with a hint of spice, akin to hot honey and he absently licked at his lips. Despite having taken precautions against this very situation, the blood from the previous evening had not been anywhere near sufficient to quell the thirst that was manifesting rapidly.

He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he knew, deep down, that you were somehow different. The realisation did as much to terrify him as it did to excite.

Kakashi was a vampire, an old one at that, and it had been a long time since he felt any sliver of fear. He was the thing to be feared, not some alluring young woman he didn’t even know—yet.

Thinking back to the night where he had first sensed your presence, he let a small smile curl the very corners of his lips. It was intriguing to recall how his body had seemingly moved of its own accord that evening, feet pulling him over to the small gap in the curtained window like a puppet connected to strings made of blood red thread.

A lone figure stood just outside the gate, watching and longing for something… for this house, his house.

Dressed in an oversized hooded sweater and tight navy jeans he had tsked grumpily at the standard of modern fashion. When had tight bodices and skirts with layers upon layers of petticoats gone out of style? A shame, truly.

However, he could at least tell that you were curvy even beneath the baggy material that tried to hide that very fact, and your hips had that lovely roundness that he was particularly fond of.

He hadn’t been ready for you to leave when you first showed signs of departing, a hand reaching out to touch the glass separating you both without thought.

The suggestion had been thrown before he could stop himself. The result, your head whipped back around to stare intently at the window, the one he was watching you from. It was his fault, and he silently cursed at how easily he had been able to steal inside your mind and implant the idea that a shadow had passed through your vision when it had not.  

Your name whispered to him in that moment, causing an unbidden grin to widen across his face. You were in love with this house—his home—and Kakashi chuckled quietly whilst planning his next set of moves.

He released your mind without further incident, allowing you to slip into the warm summer evening rather than listening to the urge to pursue you into the darkness as he was his instinct.

No, this would be a long game and no fleeting meeting in a dark alleyway to alleviate the gnawing hunger in his stomach. You were not instant gratification. Cunning was required and he relished the thought of the chase that would be born from it.

~

Finally, after a gruellingly long day of strenuous work, you threw yourself atop your plush bed. Your back sinking deep into the soft as a marshmallow comforter. It had been one of the very first things you unpacked after assembling your new bed, quickly followed by your toiletries and you silently praised yourself for that genius forethought.

Waves of fatigue hit you at full force, followed by a deep yawn that rattled your ribs. It was going to be a big adjustment going from a pokey little one bed apartment to a large and empty mansion, and most of your friends thought you to be mad to take on such a project but they couldn’t see the potential that you could. 

However, one thing you had not fully anticipated was the noises that accompanied the house.

You would swear that the floorboards creaked only to torment you at your most vulnerable moments, and the sound of the old pipes being used for the first time in decades was enough to fray the last of your nerves.

This was far more unnerving than you imagined, a far cry from being scared in your old apartment where in the worst case you could run to the neighbours you trusted. Out here the nearest house was a good ten minutes away by foot, you were alone, and it spooked you.

After a frustratingly tense soak in the beautiful claw-footed porcelain tub in your ensuite bathroom, you exited squeaky clean and no longer smelling of musty curtains. You grabbed the nearest clean clothes you could reach, happy to curl up in anything as long as it was fresh and smelled familiar.

The oversized grey t-shirt covered your underwear and dropped down to your knees, the fabric soft from years of wearing and it smelled like home, a welcome thought on this particular night.

Tomorrow was going to be another full-on day. You needed to rise with the sun if you were to make the most of it for unpacking and the deep clean that many of the rooms needed before they were habitable.

With that in mind, you slid beneath the thick duvet and rubbed your cheek sleepily against the pillows. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed you like a coveted possession, and you drifted into a seemingly peaceful slumber.

It would not last…

~

The sound of your name whispered against the shell of your ear, floating on a wind that whipped softly around your consciousness. It prodded delicately at your sleeping form and watched with glee when you turned to press your face deeper into the pillow, slipping into a dream that would be like no other.

All was dark.

Everything was still and unmoving, a tremor of trepidation rippled through your mind. You became aware of your form quite suddenly, blinking as if out of a dream and into a reality, but you would not be fooled so easily.

Glancing down you could see the oversized shirt you’d pulled on before clambering into bed and your bare toes even lower still, wiggling against a hardwood floor.

You tried to raise your hand, to feel the fabric of your shirt between your fingertips but the action felt heavy… restricted… like wading through thick treacle. Warm breath caressed your neck, jolting you out of your confusion and leaving your heart thundering in your chest. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and you longed to close your eyes, but fear kept them wide and watching.

Again, without warning, a black gloved hand appeared and touched the flare of your hip as if someone stood behind you, yet you couldn’t sense anyone there.

All you could do was watch as the strong fingers pinched the material of your top, much like you had wanted to, until it twisted in their grip. A low grunt of disapproval floated in the air around you, disembodied and clearly irritated, followed by a masculine voice which made your body quiver.

“You should be in satins, silks, lace.”

There was something immediately attraction about the voice, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Yes, you were trembling with fear of the unknown, quaking on the spot, but there was a deep secret part of your psyche that felt a rush of exhilaration.

A quiet hum sounded by your ear, a wave of warm breath fanning over your neck and the gloved hand reappeared higher up your body. The index finger ghosted the curve of your jaw, not touching yet close enough that it almost felt like it was. It was impossible to suppress the whimper leaving your mouth, and it was followed by a request made by the stranger.

“Will you let me… touch you more?” The disembodied voice asked, sounding like hot honey dripping your spine. Just breathless enough that your skin prickled pleasantly.

You swallowed, throat working hard whilst your sensible brain warred with the spontaneous part that demanded, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

A ‘yes’ almost tipped your tongue, if only to find out exactly what might happen, but you had a concession to add firstly. “If you make yourself known, then… yes.”

A chuckle tickled your ear.

You could feel the air behind you ripple with power that felt ancient and foreign, and without turning, you knew there was someone standing there now. It made you antsy, your fingers wriggling in want to reach back and feel what was there. Surely a foolish idea given your inability to run.

“I won’t hurt you, little one. Consider this a safe space, and if you tell me no, I will listen,” he reassured unprompted.

Perhaps he could hear your heart as it ricocheted around your ribcage or feel the itchy tightness in your limbs. Whatever it was, you appreciated the candour and took it for truth, no matter how crazy it was to do so.

The wet muscle of your tongue passed over your lips, wetting them thoroughly and giving your consent with a single nod of your head. It was all it took for the presence at your back to pull you into their chest, hands around your upper arms without exerting pressure, fingertips tracing soothing circles into the skin below the sleeves of your shirt.

He was tall, with a strong chest that you were content to rest against. You had expected his body to feel hot like his breath had on your neck, but he was surprising cool given the circumstances.

His head dipped over the curve of your shoulder and tufts of silver hair entered your periphery. Your eyebrows pinched at the wet marks he left over your neck, seemingly drawn time and again back to the wildly beating thrum of your pulse.

Despite the coolness of his body, his lips were far from cold, and they spread wildfire into your veins without restraint. Never had something felt so wrong but entirely right at the same time.

It took you a long moment to notice that his other arm had wound around your front, the equally gloved hand exploring you with a touch that was as careful as it was eager. Long, slender fingers gripped at your hip, kneading at the curve of your waist, and even dared to drift higher to softly paw at the weight of your breasts.

He continued until your nipples stiffened beneath the thin cotton, your head falling back when he pinched the bud between finger and thumb, the friction intensifying in the pit of your belly.

“I have no doubt that you taste divine.” The stranger whispered against your neck, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Whilst you had always enjoyed stories about faceless strangers luring women into fantasy situations, never had you thought it would be you. You reminded yourself that this was a dream and nothing more, a concoction created by a fatigue addled brain. Yet, it was hard to remember that when you felt as if he was drawing closer and closer to touching you below the waist.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you swayed your hips to press yourself further back into the frame behind you. Ignoring the flare of danger ringing in the back of your mind.

Ringing… right.

Now you thought about it there was a ringing building in your ears.

It was irritating.

An incessant buzz in your head that turned everything around you to static.

You felt him stiffen, a loud exhale of angry breath blowing strands of your hair across your shoulder. His roaming hands paused, and an intimidating growl made you shudder.

“Dammit!” He yelled angrily, and you instinctively knew it was uncharacteristic of your mystery man. “I’ve not had long enough with you…”

There was no time to ponder any of what had happened, or the feeling that you knew this man in some way. Your fingers shot up to wrap around his wrist, a desperate act to hold on but it was like trying catch smoke.

The blaring ring of an alarm clock ripped you from his grasp and back into consciousness. Back into the comfort and safety of your bed.

Blinking and confused as to why you wanted to stay… but where and with who?

[igglemouse]

"So, how do I look? Human enough?" I ask my idiot assistant Dre with a hopeful smile. Dre Ogve is her name, yes, like me she only has two names. Two signifiers, I should say, a badge of shame amongst our kind. But that's not why I'm here, I'm here to blend in, and I know that humans really like standing out and so I've made a disguised that will do just that but in a more classy way. "How's the hair?"

Dre's eyes widen and her expression is that of pure horror. "Zer..." she starts to say, her voice a waver as she pretends as if she's seen some kind of accident. "Th-that's not how a normal human female looks!"

See, that's the problem with her, she thinks she knows everything. "Dre, what is the issue?" I'm genuinely confused. The pants are bright and pink, which I know is a color to signal to others that one is female, and it even has dots on it with a variety of soft colors. I'm wearing thick boots as well, just in case the terrain is rough, and my hair is what is currently in on this planet.

"Everything," Dre whispers, she acts as if I've physically assaulted her.

Alright, maybe I do need to work on my look a bit, but let's not let her off the hook here. I specially told her to secure me a suitable home here on this very planet and what has she found? I believe this is what you humans would call trash? I live in trash. Dust is every where, dirt is every where, and there is a strange smell that lingers in this place. From what I can tell, is this even a proper home?

"Dre, what is this? Was there nowhere else?" I demand, glaring at her. I have to be firm with her because honestly she's horrible at her job, just terrible. But she's also not very smart so what can you expect from an idiot?

"We had no simoleons because YOU insisted that they trade in bottle caps here, remember?" She dares to snap back, trying to shift the blame, as she always does. Yes, yes, I might have made a slight tiny miniscule miscalculation regarding the various forms of currency you all trade in but how can you blame me? There's like hundreds of them and besides...

"I WAS PLAYING A GAME BASED ON THEIR HISTORY AND BOTTLE CAPS WERE THE CURRENCY! WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE TO YOU?" I say throwing my hands up and am forced to deal with living in trash for now.

"A clown?" she says holding back laughter and the sound of her amusement really grates on my nerves. I hate her. I loathe her. Yet, what can I do with her? I'm so frustrated with her that I send her questions and queries mentally, too angry to speak. We Sixams can transmit thoughts and ideas and have entire conversations mentally. This isn't mind reading. One can only receive what what is sent to them and so I wonder what even is a clown? She sends an image back and I'm still confused.

"Yes Dre? I don't see why that is a bad thing?"

"A clown is a joke," she's smirking. I know this smirk, this expression. She's laughing at me. "A big walking joke, Zer, and that's what you look like. A fool. A dummy. A joke."

"Well why don't you show me YOUR disguise?" I snap back. I hate this being, truly, but she is also oddly endearing...in a very annoying kind of way and an impossible to get rid of kind of way.

"You're just going to copy me Zer, that's what you always do, copy me." She is so smug, I can see it on her face, I want to lug something heavy and smash her face with it...because she's not wrong. I would copy her, but that makes ME the genius since she's the one doing all the work and I'll make sure she knows that.

"That is how this works, Dre. You are MY assistant, so I take your suggestions, so give me a suggestion." I tap my foot to let her know that I'm growing impatient with her act.

She rolls her eyes and groans but she does help. Sending me a mental image of what I can look like and what she thinks would be considered normal on this planet. I guess it looks better, I'll just have to trust her on this.

But before I can work on changing my look I'll need a job so that I can escape this garbage of a home. I cannot take over this planet operating from here.

While I am here I'll work on cleaning things up, not only this 'house' but this planet because honestly you all have failed to do it. Plastic every where and I mean EVERYWHERE and trash in your seas. I honestly wonder how you all have made it this far?

But now it is time for my makeover. As I look at my reflection in a mirror I'm not exactly sure what's wrong with my look but again I'll trust Dre on this. She means well, usually...

There! I do think this is much better! Ah, I've almost forgot! I can't go around being called Zer and so I've come here with a name in mind. Priya Patel. Please do not ever refer to me as Zer, I wouldn't want to blow my disguise.

I looked around until I found a big metal can just laying up against a fence and to my surprise it was filled with tons of useful stuff. Do you humans just throw away things like this? So odd. So incredibly stupid. Perfectly good items, like a fully functional chair, just in the trash? Let me guess, you take this trash and then put it all in a LARGER pile of trash, don't you?

Welp, your loss is my gain and maybe if I find something valuable enough I can sell it and move out of my trash house. Sounds like a decent enough plan, for now.

I take that old dirty chair and put it into my recycler which I should point out is primitive. We Sixams have a way to turn any and every thing into energy. This chair? Yeah, we'd turn it into water. So you can figure my surprise when the recycler just turned it into more useful trash. Well, that's a start, it looks like it'll be on me to save your world before I can conquer it.

You are welcome, by the way.

I head back inside and find Dre sitting there on my couch. I'm not sure where she's been and honestly I do not care. She doesn't live here but she will have this annoying ability to just pop up when she feels like it. Typical of her. We are birth mates, by the way, coming from the same mother back on Sixam. I think you humans call that siblings? So this is why I have to stick by her, you must always be loyal to your birth mates, all fifty or so of them.

Today she's here to review my grand plan and I can tell she's going to be insufferable about this. "So...how exactly are you going to conquer the planet again?"

"Simple. I find their leader and mind control them and then become their leader," obvious right? See what I mean? She's stupid. You land and tell them 'Take me to your leader' and go from there. Humans are very susceptible to manipulation. You just speak to them mentally and they think your thoughts are theirs.

"Not so simple, Zer," she pushes out a sigh as if I'm the stupid one. "They have multiple leaders. Different continents, governments, and some are even capable of...powers," she tells me this as if it will make any difference to me. It does not because it does not make any sense actually.

"Dre, how can you have multiple leaders?" What is going on here? "Every planet has ONE leader. That's how it always works. Remember when-"

But before I can finish I see her wrigglers start wriggling (those are head tentacles) and squirm the way they usually do when she disagrees. "Not here," she sighs as if she's talking her a child. "Each piece of land here has leader, and that leader is under another leader. These leaders can sometimes even hate each other. Drop nuclear bombs on other countries...yes, on the same planet."

I don't even know how to respond to that. What's wrong with you people? Are you TRYING to blow up your own planet? I mean yes, we Sixams have destroyed a few planets, but we exist on countless planets, what's one more? Any ways... "Look, Dre, it doesn't matter. Which 'land' has the most power then? I'll go to their leader and-"

"Oh...oh no, you've done none of your research," she' says, no, she 's smirking at me with pity now, her tone a mockery of mines. This is typical of her, she always thinks she's better when really she's the dumb one. That much is clear. mocks.

"Dre, you silly little blob, doing the research is YOUR job. Remember? Besides, you are not making much sense. How does the planet get much done with no unified planetary government? Aren't their billions of these primates on this tiny world?" , that is your job, Dre. Besides, that makes no sense. How do they get anything done on this planet?"

Dre shrugs, her wrigglers curling to indicate confusion. "They manage, I guess? I feel like they don't get much done, at least not recently. Their first few thousand years they have progressed tremendously and then..." she makes a flat line with her hand.

"Well, I'll get things back up and running again. They just need a strong hand and some direction! We can treat them like the Ziplops of Beta Omicron On!" Oh what great times! The Sixams, we were at our height then! Unified and powerful! I would fondly roll around in the nostaglia of it but Dre, being the buzzkill that she is, has a worried look on her face.

"Ermm, Zer, the Ziplops are now extinct, thanks to the various intergalactic occupation of their homeworlds. I do not think that-"

"You think too much Dre! That is the issue! This is a planet that needs Sixam direction, clearly, and I am the one to do it!" This planet needs this. You beings are hopelessly inefficient. "So, where do we start?"

"Ahhm," she starts, I can tell she has more to say. Thankfully, she thinks better of saying it. "We'll need simoleons. These beings are very motivated by their currency and the more of it you have the more power you have on this planet."

Dre is such a softie sometimes. That's why she'll always just be an assistant, she doesn't have the strength or vision to do what is needed and fusses over tiny details like 'morals' and 'sentience'. Does that matter when a planet is in desperate need of order? No, not is not. But she is right about one thing, I do need simoleons.

So with that in mind I step out into the world and search for opportunities. I admit, I have no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going and so I eventually end up looking at a board. Unfortunately, it is primitive. You beings still use paper and basic writing tools? Well, at least the posters pinned to the board are about saving the planet and clean energy so at least a few of you dummies realize the peril your planet is in.

Perhaps there are some that could be useful to me? I'll make a mental note to investigate that further.

"Oh hey! What ya voting for!?" A woman calls out from behind and I immediately tense and give her my best defensive glare. I've heard stories you know, of the Sims In Black? A secret defense force trained to detect and eliminate outsiders like me. Could she be one or is this just a random citizen?

"Greetings human," I say cautiously, giving her a wave and a flick of my tongue to show her I am no threat. That's what you humans do, right? I try to wriggle my wrigglers but I forget you beings have hair...on your head.

"Umm, hey? Human?" She asks, thrown off clearly. Was it the wave? It must have been the wave. "What are you doing with your tongue?"

"Oh ummm, the air! The taste of the..." I stop, because I have a feeling I am only making things worse. So instead I glance over to the board. "So, you all vote for things huh? Someone suggests a policy and you all vote?" You humans seem oddly obsessed with voting. Under my rule, voting will be illegal and punishable by a quick and swift death.

"Ah yeah!" she perks up at least. "We all try our best! The past administrations have really failed this place you know? The air sucks, the water sucks, it all sucks! It tends to happen when you don't regulate the mega corps!" She seems excited. I'm not sure why. She also seems far smarter than the average human. This must mean...

"Are you the leader of this trash town?"

"Heyyy, Evergreen Harbor is not in the best place right now but I wouldn't call it garbage!" Oh great, I've offended her.

I look around and take in the brown hazy fog that fills the air, the heaps of actual garbage lying around randomly here and there, and a very toxic scent invading my nostrils and I start to wonder if she's blind, deaf, and senseless. I look around and see nothing but garbage. "There is LIT-ER-ALLY a pile of garbage right behind me."

"Umm, yeah," she falters some, shifting uncomfortably form foot to foot. "I guess so? Still, it's my home, it's not polite to-"

"Your stupidity is not polite," I snap back because I am losing patience. I'm out here for to earn simoleons or to find a leader. The latter is preferable as it is always your leader who assigns you your job. "Human, please bring me to your leader. The matter is urgent, if you could not tell."

"Umm, I can't say I'm on speaking terms with the Mayor. Tammy Hite, by the way!"

I can't help but scoff. "Two names, nine letters, you must be a disgrace to your birth group."

"Ummm, lady, are you okay?" she then gives me a strange look. A look I'm not liking. She's suspicious. "You're like waaay out of this world or not sober or-"

"Wait, what?!" She is on to me. My heart skips a beat and I can see a spark in her eyes, recognition. A bit of panic takes hold of me and I wonder if she really is this SIB agent that Dre warned me about before coming here. "N-no!" I stammer out, desperate now. "I-I'm very much part of this world, Human! Just like you! See! Look at my eyes!"

Instead of looking she does the opposite, turning her head away, backing up. "Heyy um, yeah you need to-"

"LOOK AT THEM!"

"Ummm, yeah, you have nice eyes..." she says but I'm not convinced the compliment is sincere. She looks uncomfortable? Edging backwards and away from me. "I-I need to go. Nice meeting you ummmm...."

"Zerrrrraaauummmm, I-I mean Preena Matel," I'm stammering again, my heart is beating again, my wrigglers are...they are not on my head right now but if they were they would be WRIGGLING! "Prita! No, no, Priya! Priya Patel! That's it!" I force a smile, the one I've practiced over and over again, hoping it covers the slip, flicking my tongue out to show here that I mean no harm.

"Alllrighty then..." she says slowly, taking another step back. "I'llseeyouaround!"

And off she goes. That was a close one. Maybe I do need to do a little more research.

Zer Avoi Index ~ Episode 1.2

[mellohiizz]

im more complex about the episode then everyone else seems to be apparently. imo they all sucked this episode.

for one, i am actually a dean sympathizer. lets be real parrot and wifies both treated him badly. i wouldnt have told parrot either when he was there constantly repeating the exact same things ash said to blackmail dean; and wifies isnt much better for affirming the shit ash told dean either, infact i would argue wifies was even worse then about it. if i was there hearing "ash was right. youre a burden, but thats ok." and "ash was right. your a burden, we should be leaving you for dead." i wouldnt want to risk jeopardizing my one source of safety either.

before the reveal that dean was actually involved in the leaking of their location wifies just came of as a semi-controlling dick. there were a million better ways all of them could have done things this episode. i dont really like the wifies glazing as if he was perfect this episode and didnt treat a fellow victim who lodgically didnt have a choice like shit. wifies is smart enough to figure out dean didnt want to sell them out. imo he had no actual reason to reason to treat dean with as little empathy as he did, especially when wifies knows exactly what its like to have his existance used to get to parrot in the exact chain of events parrot referenced after the compass was burnt.

both sides of odessy were being hypocritical and hurtful as hell and thats been a theme of uu the whole time. theyre all flawed, they are make mistakes and are selfish and hurt others doing what they think is righteous or best or safest. uu is the dichotomy of perspective, about how everyone does what they think is best and how more often then not that best hurts atleast someone. and guess what? thats life. thats actually pretty normal, especially if youve been through your own shit or are traumatized like the characters of uu are.

they all suck and hurt people, thats the moral of the story. the moral that feels very lost on most of the fandom...

-🔍🏰(f:▶️🥊)

honestly, good take. kind of made me rethink some things that happened in the episode as well.

to be fair, yes, obviously dean was treated badly the whole episode. even i noted that wifies was a bit too harsh with how he approached things the whole video. he knew that dean was leaking information, didn't tell parrot, and still tried to put basically the whole blame of it on dean. "you could argue i hid it from you" yes, wifies, you did keep it from parrot, knowing that parrot would've tried to look for a different solution.

parrot was obviously not any better. he brushed off wifies despite the other very clearly showing signs of concern and he did also openly called dean a burden. which is, yes, he was slowing them down, but i feel like there was a nicer was to go about it.

and yes, i do sympathize with dean, but he did hide a piece of pretty crucial information from them, keeping a leverage in the compass, and then ran away after being confronted. it's fair, i'm not saying he was entirely wrong for that too, but i feel like it wouldn't be fair to say anyone was fully in right/wrong.

and yeah, you're are right, the morality of characters is a pretty obvious focus on the whole uu, and obviously all of them are very flawed. taking wifies's words, we just need to try and look at things from all of their perspectives. they're all understandable, and in some ways even reasonable, but there were much better ways to go about the whole situation, but the problem was exactly that. perspective. they were all focused on their individual goals and didn't try to see everything from the perspective of others. and that's what separated all of them.

[relicsongmel]

Something I've always found fascinating about Raymond Shields is that despite seemingly having altruistic reasons for being a defense attorney, his reasons for trying to convince Miles to be one are anything but.

It seems understandable enough on the surface. After Ray comes around and agrees to work with Miles in The Imprisoned Turnabout, he sees remnants of Gregory shining through him despite von Karma's influence. Whether or not he recognizes that Miles' decision to become a prosecutor wasn't just born from that alone—that it was in tandem with wanting to distance himself from anything that reminded him of his father to alleviate the burden on his heart—is up for debate, but regardless: he acknowledges Miles as Gregory's son through and through and wants to capitalize on his dedication for pursuing justice in a way that he knows would make his father proud. He wants to let Miles in on the life he was robbed of at 9 years old—the life he once dreamed of living, where he follows in the footsteps of his father by giving everything he has to save people, by fighting like hell for the vulnerable and the condemned.

That said, as much as Ray dresses up his proposition by making it out to be as if he's looking out for Miles' best interests (and the best interests of society, even)...his motives for trying to get Miles to switch sides are almost entirely selfish. Ray's efforts (and most of his actions in general, really) are ultimately a product of his desperate attempt to cling on to anything related to Gregory out of an inability to move on from his death. Wearing his hat and coat, leaving the name of his office unchanged...and now, requesting that his son literally change jobs just because he can't bear the weight of his own loneliness anymore. Because he can't bear to think that the damage done by DL-6 is irreversible and Miles has moved on while he has stagnated for the past 17 years. Because he has an idealized vision of what he thinks Gregory would want and fails to realize that his son's occupation wouldn't matter to him as long as it brings him happiness and fulfillment. In his mind, letting Miles go means accepting the circumstances that brought him where he is and allowing both of them to move on. And that terrifies him.

It's even more deceitful when you realize that Ray's pitch comes at a very opportune time for Miles given his circumstances at that point: that is, he's under threat of investigation for prosecutorial misconduct and at risk of being stripped of his badge. Ray might fake incompetence, but he's not stupid—and he takes full advantage of Justine's warnings to try to sway Miles when he's in a more vulnerable position in terms of his job. Which is...pretty fucked up, to put it lightly. Despite having a better idea of where he came from compared to most people, through this Ray shows a lack of understanding of who Miles truly is and a lack of respect for what he's come to value, even if his path toward obtaining those values had some bumps along the road. But he's so blinded by his grief that he doesn't even stop to consider how much he's really asking of him, or what Miles is really searching for.

Ray was moved by Gregory. He values saving people. Defending the weak is an undeniably noble endeavor. But to ask that of someone else without consideration for their best interests is decidedly less so.

For all his occupation requires a certain selflessness, Raymond Shields is far more selfish than he lets on. And I for one find that contradiction fascinating to unpack.

[suspensefulpen]

The scariest thing that has happened today is me remembering my friends aren’t into whump and believe it’s kinky 👹

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[quaranmine]

in further context to the last post, re: very real emergency, today was the first time i ever had to call 911 for another person 🙃 basically to make a long story short(ish) my dad called my mom while at work super incoherent, we ended up calling 911, we were afraid it was any number of serious issues like a stroke or something, but what actually happened was that he inhaled too many fumes from the chemicals he was working with. so the EMTs declared him to be okay after he had like 20-30 minutes in fresh air. when he got home he told us that he didn't remember anything from 10 am - 4 pm, barely remembered calling my mom, didn't remember anything he said on the phone, and that the reason he called my mom was cause he basically passed out on the floor, woke up on the floor, and didn't know how he got there (he did not say that or share anything useful on the phone though lmao so we were pretty horrified to realize the situation was even worse than we'd assumed)

anyway he's fine now, just embarassed so much attention is being paid to him, and i have experienced Anxiety today

[batemanofficial]

who up feeling the ancient hysterical shame

[jaypgartifacts]

october is coming. which means, of course, that it is time for the horrors. tfw the dream self must confront the Nightmare Self

[layalu]

did the golden ridge b-side! this one was pretty fun actually :]

[emdotcom]

My brain is so full of Bees about Post-Shift 2.

It's a fan game that was delayed for 4 years -- by the time it released, fnaf fangames as a whole were not as popular as they had been, & most people in the scene had forgotten about Post-Shift 1, so not a lot of people heard about it/played it.

Worse still is the people who did talk about the game. Pretty unanimously, the consensus was this: this game is the craziest, most insane fnaf fangame. It's overly difficult with mechanics that have no rhyme or reason to them & tutorials that are wordy, unhelpful, & sometimes actively mislead the player, meaning you need to comb through a lot of text only to be misinformed. It's not as infamous as some other fangames, but it definitely was talked about very poorly.

In general, I think most of these criticisms were blown up out of proportion, but I can't really disagree with most people's problems -- it is difficult & wordy, & rather hard to understand. I think, however, that the game is still 1. Really fun, 2. Not a bad game at all, &, most importantly, 3. Is a free fucking game that was clearly a passion project. Most damn fangames never get off the fucking ground when made in groups because the creators will never make a red cent off the thing -- this game was made by one dude for 4 years & delivered to people for free. It didn't ask anything of you except to accept it as a difficult game & to not go in with wild expectations. The dev just wanted to make a game that was rough, but he also wanted to make a game that felt unique & was fun. & It is fun, too, is the damn thing.

[our-lady-of-mcr]

everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn

[void-kissed]

ohhh?? a fifth main??? 👀 is it zero or clio by chance???

selwyn it has been Thirty Seconds

yes it's Clio

[icewindandboringhorror]

oh my god.. a job for me.. historical pierrot beach performer lol

[mythesque]

alhaitham and dehya are FRIENDS they are friends THEY ARE FRIENDS they are besties they are F R I E N D S this Is the hill i Will die on