#and then i started my period and thought no. no fucking way. so i googled it and APPARENTLY menstrual gingivitis is a thing!!!!

[bibleofficial]

me realizing that the slang term i’ve used to say ‘get scammed’ a) isn’t spelled that way & b) is actually a slur

[insidejupiter]

every time i learn about some new bullshit periods cause i get irrationally angry

[moth-murdock]

No one knows (I wish she could)

My masterlist | Series masterlist

A/n: part two! Let's fucking go! Also, those images were chosen for a very specific reason that you will find out later :)

Genre: angst? Fluff?

Summary: being pregnant is supposed to be celebrated. But how are you supposed to tell your husband when he has such deep emotional wounds?

Warnings: telling your husband you're pregnant

Other tags: Curtis mentioned, max not much :(, confrontation yikes, I'm starting to Google stuff now so bear with me

Word count: 1.6k

You pocket the test and sneak over into your shared bedroom to hide it. After much deliberation, you decide to go back to the bathroom and hide it among your period things. You knew for sure that Frank wouldn't go nosing around in there, and it's not like you'd forget about it. You couldn't if you tried.

Slowly, and with shaking breath, you put your things back to how they were. Then, you felt like you could cry. All the worst-case scenarios were going through your head at once, and you felt like they would all come true and burn down the life you had built with Frank. You wash your face to will the tears away, heading back to the living room. He's still asleep. Good.

After a moment of thinking and a glance at the crooked clock on the wall, you turn the forgotten TV off.

"Honey... Come on..." You say softly as you nudge your husband

"You're gonna be achey tomorrow if you sleep on the couch." You reason, but you are met with a protesting groan from the man

"Not gonna be able t'sleep if I get up..." He murmurs, adjusting the pillow beneath his head

"And I can't sleep without you in the bed with me, sweetheart." You counter, to which he gives a few seconds of thought before getting up.

"Don't say I don't love you..." He grumbles as he stretches, his shirt riding up a bit to reveal his happy trail. You want to have a sinful thought, but that is quickly doused by the knowledge of what is currently hiding in your bathroom drawer. Thankfully, he's too sleepy to notice the worry on your face. 

You both make your way back to the bedroom, crawling into the soft sheets together. He's the big spoon tonight, pressing gentle, sleepy kisses to the crook of your neck as he wraps his arms around you. You want to be comforted, but this just makes his hands end up on your stomach. Instinctively, you tense for a second. But you don't want him to know something's wrong, so you force yourself to relax. You damn near shit yourself when you're pulled out of your thoughts by his voice, rough with sleep.

"G'night, sweetheart."

"Night, baby"

Baby

The next morning, you take another test. To be sure. Because there's no way, right? I mean, you take your pills on time every day. No matter what. Of course, birth control isn't always effective... But the odds are so slim, there's no way. Right?

Two pink lines.

FUCK

It takes 2 days before you feel like you're actually going to die unless you tell someone. So you call the people you know are close to Frank. You pick up your phone, dialing Curtis's number. There's background noise, like he's probably cooking dinner

"Hello?"

"Curtis! Hi!"

"What did he do this time?" The man chuckles

"actually... I uh... I need your advice on something."

"Alright, what is it?"

"... Well... I uh... I'm pregnant. And I don't know how to tell Frank, and I'm scared of how he'll react."

You hear the click of a stove being turned off and the scrape of a pan being moved off the burner.

"Well... Before anything else, congratulations."

Oh boy.

"... Thank you..."

"I know you know about Maria and the kids. But I need more context."

"Like?..."

"Was this planned? Unplanned? Have the two of you talked about kids before? How did he react to that? All that."

"Oh, um... Unplanned. And I've tried to bring up kids before... He avoids it every time..."

Every time you tried to hint at kids with Frank, you were shut down. A video of a baby in a onesie? He said "cute" and nothing more. Asking to look around the infant section of the store? He asked if your sister was pregnant. You straight up asked him what he thought about kids as you walked past a park one day, and he said "they're alright. Pretty loud."

"Okay... So... Unplanned, and he's been avoiding talking about kids..." Curtis repeats

"Yeah..." You sigh

"Well... I'll tell you what I do know. I know Maria's pregnancy also wasn't planned. But damn it if he didn't love those kids more than anything."

"Yeah, I thought about that too, but I don't know if he'll be the same about me. He didn't have so many... Issues... When Maria was pregnant."

"Good point..."

There's a few more moments of silence before he speaks again.

"The best I can do is this. Tell him, and if he doesn't take it well, call me. I'll try to talk to him."

"Thank you, Curtis."

"No problem. Congrats again." He says before hanging up, after which you put your phone away with a sigh.

You pretty much repeat this process with Dinah, David, and even Matt. You needed all the opinions you could get. And they all said something along the lines of what Curtis said. Frank loved his previous children, and he loves you. But also in case anything goes wrong they would all beat the shit out of him together.

You know you only have so much time before you can no longer hide it. If you did your math right, you got pregnant about two weeks before your period. And given that morning sickness starts at around five weeks, you don't have very long to think about what you want to do and how to do it. 

What you know for sure is that you don't want to get rid of it. But having a baby would affect Frank as well, so he should at least get to put in his opinion. That still means you have to tell him.

It could potentially blow up in your face, yes, but it doesn't seem like Frank would realistically be angry or leave you for it. Hell, when he found out Maria was pregnant, the first thing he did was put a ring on her finger. Their marriage was a good one, from what Curtis and Frank himself have told you. So this can't go too horribly wrong, right?

You take some time to consider your options before you finally come to a decision. You're going to tell Frank. But now you figure out how. You've seen a few pregnancy reveals before, so you have an idea of what you could do that Frank would like. Hopefully, if he likes it enough, he won't blow up.

We need to talk when you come home you text.

Okay. 👍🏻

Despite the situation, that manages to get a small laugh out of you. That seemed to be his response to just about everything.

As you wait for Frank to get home, you decide to pick up some pizza from Lombardi's. You figure that if he's happy, it's celebratory. If he's upset, it's a consolation. You check your phone to see if he's on his way home yet, and he's about 15 minutes out. Fuck.

In an attempt to not go insane, you go to the bathroom to take one more test, just in case. After the longest ten minutes of your life, you are greeted by two pink lines. Double fuck.

You let yourself spiral until you hear Frank's truck pull into the driveway, at which point you go to the dining table. Frank walks in and hangs up his jacket, smirking at the pizza on the table

"Lombardi's and a talk? I hope we're celebratin'" He chuckles in that low voice of his, crossing the room to give you a kiss.

"I hope so too..." You sigh into the kiss, your grip tightening around the positive test in your hands

"You hope so?" He asks, pulling away and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear

"Frank... I..." You start, trying to avoid the lump that forms in your throat.

Frank, lord bless him, just waits. He has this look when he's listening, so aggressive and yet so soft at the same time.

"What I wanted to talk to you about... Is... It's..." You struggle, trying to speak around the lump in your throat.

And Frank, he just listens. He listens in a way that you know he really is. He has that look on his face, so aggressive and yet so soft. He meets your eyes, and that's all it takes for you to break. Because you don't want to lose him. You don't want to lose everything you have with him.

Frank sees the fat tears brimming on your waterline and immediately wraps his arms around you so tenderly and with such concern that it just makes you cry even more.

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on? Why're you cryin'?"

You can't answer, your nose already so full that you almost can't breathe. When he notices that, he stops trying to get you to talk. He lets you cry it out, your tears rolling off his flannel.

Once your sniffles die down, you gather the strength to speak.

"I just... I love you so much... And I don't want to lose you..."

"I ain't goin' nowhere... Why would you lose me?" He chuckles softly as he cups your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs

"Because... I don't... know how you'll take it..." You hiccup between breaths

"Take what, sweetheart?"

You finally bring up your hands, showing him the positive pregnancy test

"I'm... I'm pregnant, Frank."

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Pluralistic is five

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in SEATTLE TONIGHT (Feb 19) for with DAN SAVAGE, and in TORONTO on SUNDAY (Feb 23) at Another Story Books. More tour dates here.

Five years and two weeks ago, I parted ways with Boing Boing, a website I co-own and wrote for virtually every day for 19 years ago. Two weeks later – five years ago from today – I started my own blog, Pluralistic, which is, therefore, half a decade old, as of today.

I've written an annual rumination on this most years since.

Here's the fourth anniversary post (on blogging as a way to organize thoughts for big, ambitious, synthetic works):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/20/fore/#synthesis

The third (on writing without analytics):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/drei-drei-drei/#now-we-are-three

The second (on "post own site, share everywhere," AKA "POSSE"):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/19/now-we-are-two/#two-much-posse

I wasn't sure what I would write about today, but I figured it out yesterday, in the car, driving to my book-launch event with Wil Wheaton at LA's Diesel Books (tonight's event is in Seattle, with Dan Savage):

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/cory-doctorow-with-dan-savage-picks-and-shovels-a-martin-hench-novel-tickets-1106741957989

I was listening to the always excellent Know Your Enemy podcast, where the hosts were interviewing Chris Hayes:

https://know-your-enemy-1682b684.simplecast.com/episodes/pay-attention-w-chris-hayes-OA3C8ZMp

The occasion was the publication of Hayes's new book, The Sirens' Call, about the way technology interacts with our attention:

https://sirenscallbook.com

The interview was fascinating, and steered clear of moral panic about computers rotting our brains (shades of Socrates' possibly apocryphal statements that reading, rather than memorizing, was destroying young peoples' critical faculties). Instead, Hayes talked about how empty it feels to read an algorithmic feed, how our attention gets caught up by it, sometimes for longer than we planned, and then afterward, we feel like our attention and time were poorly spent. He talked about how reflective experiences – like reading a book with his kid before school – are shattered by pocket-buzzes as news articles came in. And he talked about how satisfying it was to pay protracted attention to something important, and how hard that was.

Listening to Hayes's description, I realized two things: first, he was absolutely right, those are terrible things; and second, I barely experience them (though, when I do, it makes me feel awful). Both of these are intimately bound up with my blogging and social media habits.

15 years ago, I published "Writing in the Age of Distraction," an article about preserving your attention in a digital world so you could get writing done. We live in a very different world, but the advice still holds up:

https://www.locusmag.com/Features/2009/01/cory-doctorow-writing-in-age-of.html

In particular, I advised readers to turn off all their alerts. This is something I've done since before the smartphone era, tracking down the preferences that kept programs like AIM, Apple Mail and Google Reader from popping up an alert when a new item appeared. This is absolutely fundamental and should be non-negotiable. When I heard Hayes describe how his phone buzzes in his pocket whenever there is breaking news, I was actually shocked. Do people really allow their devices to interrupt them on a random reinforcement schedule? I mean, no wonder the internet makes people go crazy. I'm not a big believer in BF Skinner, but I think it's well established that any stimulus that occurs at random intervals is impossible to get used to, and shocks you anew every time it recurs.

Rather than letting myself get pocket-buzzed by the news, I have an RSS reader. You should use an RSS reader, seriously:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/#read-receipts-are-you-kidding-me-seriously-fuck-that-noise

I periodically check in with my reader to see what stories have been posted. The experience of choosing to look at the news is profoundly different from having the news blasted at you. I still don't always choose wisely – I'm as guilty of scrolling my phone when I could be doing something more ultimately satisfying as anyone else – but the affect of being in charge of when and how I consume current events is the opposite of the feeling of being at the beck-and-call of any fool headline writer who hits "publish."

This is even more important in the age of smartphones. Whenever you install an app, turn off its notifications. If you forget and an app pushes you an update ("Hi, this is the app you used to pay your parking meter that one time! We're having a 2% off sale on parking spots in a different city from the one you're in now and we wanted to make sure you stopped whatever you were doing and found out about it RIGHT NOW!") then turn off notifications for that app. Consider deleting it. Your phone should buzz when you're expecting a call, or an important message.

Note I said important message. I also turn off notifications for most of the apps I use that have a direct-messaging function. I check in with my group chats periodically, but I never get interrupted by friends across town or across the world posting photos of lunch or kvetching about the guy who farted next to them on the subway. I look at those chats when I'm taking a break, not when I'm trying to get stuff done. It's really nice to stay on top of your friends' lives without feeling low-grade resentment for how they interrupted your creative fog with a ganked Tiktok video of a zoomer making fun of a boomer for getting mad at a millennial for quoting Osama bin Laden. There's times when it makes sense to turn on group-chat notifications – like when you're on a group outing and trying to locate one another – but the rest of the time, turn it off.

Now, there are people I need to hear from urgently, who do get to buzz my pockets when something important comes up – people I'm working on a project with, say, or my wife and kid. But I also have all those people trained to send me emails unless it's urgent. You know the norm we have about calling someone out of the blue being kind of gross and rude? That's how you should feel about making someone's pocket buzz, unless it's important. Send those people emails.

I visit my email in between other tasks and clear out my inbox. If that sounds impossible, I have some suggestions for how to manage it:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2010/dec/21/keeping-email-address-secret-spambots

Tldr? Get you some mail rules:

add everyone you correspond with to an address book called "people I know"

filter emails from anyone in the "people I know" address book into a high priority inbox, which you just treat as your regular inbox

look at the unfiltered inbox (full of people you've never corresponded with) every day or two and reply to messages that need replying (and those people will thereafter be filtered into the "people I know" inbox)

filter any message containing the world "unsubscribe" into a folder called "mailing lists"

if you're subscribed to mailing lists that you feel you can't leave because it would be impolite, filter them into a folder called "mailing lists" unless the message contains your name (so you can reply promptly if someone mentions you on the list)

The point here is to manage your attention. You decide when you want to get non-urgent communications, and mail-app automation automatically flags the stuff that you are most likely to want to see. For extra credit: adopt a "suspense file" that lets you manage other peoples' emails to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/26/one-weird-trick/#todo

Now, let's talk about algorithmic feeds. Lots of phosphors have been spilled on this subject, and critics of The Algorithm have an unfortunately propensity to buy into the self aggrandizement of soi-dissant evil sorcerer tech bros who claim they can "hack your dopamine loops" by programming an algorithmic feed. I think this is bullshit. Mind-control rays are nonsense, whether they are being promoted by Rasputin or a repentant Prodigal Tech Bro:

https://conversationalist.org/2020/03/05/the-prodigal-techbro/

But I hate algorithmic feeds. To explain why, I should explain how much I love non-algorithmic feeds. I follow a lot of people on several social media services, and I almost never feel the need to look at trending topics, suggested posts, or anything resembling the "For You" feed. Sure, there's times when I want to turn on the ole social TV and see what's on – the digital equivalent of leaving the TV on in a hotel room while I unpack and iron my suit – but those times are rare.

Mostly what I get is a feed of the things that my friends think are noteworthy enough to share. Some of that stuff is "OC" (material they've posted themselves), but the majority of it is stuff they're boosting from the feeds of their friends. Now, I say friend but I don't know the majority of the people I follow. I have a parasocial relationship (these get an undeserved bad rap) with them.

We're "friends" in the sense that I think they have interesting taste. There's people I've followed for more than a decade without exchanging a single explicit communication. I think they're cool, and I repost the cool stuff they post, so the people who follow me can see it. Reposting is a way of collaborating with other people who've opted into sharing their attention-management with you:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/27/probably/

Reposting with a comment? Even better – you're telling people why to pay attention to that thing, or, more importantly, why they can safely ignore it if it's not their thing (what Bruce Sterling memorably calls an "attention conservation notice"). This is why Mastodon's decision not to implement quote-tweeting (over a misplaced squeamishness about "dunk culture") was such a catastrophic own-goal. If you're building a social network without an algorithmic suggestion feed (yay), you absolutely can't afford to block a feature that lets people annotate the material they boost into other people's timelines:

https://fediversereport.com/fediverse-report-104/

Remember how I said the affect of going to read the news is totally different (and infinitely superior) to the affect of having the news pushed to you? Same goes for the difference between getting a feed of things boosted and written by people you've chosen to follow, and getting a feed of things chosen by an algorithm. This is for reasons far more profound than the mere fact that algorithms use poor signals to choose those posts (e.g. "do a lot of people seem to be arguing about this post?").

For me, the problem with algorithmic feeds is the same as the problem with AI art. The point of art is to communicate something, and art consists of thousands of micro-decisions made by someone intending to communicate something, which gives it a richness and a texture that can make art arresting and profound. Prompting an AI to draw you a picture consists of just a few decisions, orders of magnitude fewer communicative acts than are embodied in a human-drawn illustration, even if you refine the image through many subsequent prompts. What you get is something "soulless" – a thing that seems to involve many decisions, but almost all of them were made by a machine that had no communicative intent.

This is the definition of "uncanniness," which is "the seeming of intention without intending anything." Most of the "meaning" in an AI illustration is "meaning that does not stem from organizing intention":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

The same is true of an algorithmic feed. When someone you follow – a person – posts or boosts something into their feed, there is a human intention. It is a communicative act. It can be very communicative, even if it's just a boost, provided the person adds some context with their own commentary or quoting. It can be just a little communicative, too – a momentary thumbpress on the boost button. But either way, to read a feed populated by people, rather than machines, is to be showered with the communicative intent of people whom you have chosen to hear from. Perhaps you chose unwisely and followed someone whose communications are banal or offensive or repetitious. Unfollow them.

Most importantly, follow the people who are followed by the people you follow. If someone whose taste you like pleases or interests you time and again by promoting something by a stranger to your attention, then bring that stranger closer by making them someone you follow, too. Do this, again and again, and build a constellation of people who make you smile or make you think. Just the act of boosting and virtually handling the things those people make and boost gets that stuff into your skin and your thoughts:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/31/divination/

This is the good kind of filter bubble – the bubble of "people who interest me." I'm not saying that it's a sin to read an algorithmic feed, but relying on algorithmic feeds is a recipe for feeling empty, and regretful of your misspent attention. This is true even when the algorithm is good at its job, as with Tiktok, whose whole appeal is to take your hands off the wheel and give total control over to the autopilot. Even when an algorithm makes many good guesses about what you'll like, seeing something you like isn't as nice, as pleasing, as useful, as seeing that same thing as the result of someone else's intention.

And, of course, once you let the app drive, you become a soft target for the cupidity and deceptions of the app's makers. Tiktok, for example, uses its "heating tool" to selectively boost things into your feed – not because they think you'll like it, but because they want to trick the person whose content they're boosting into thinking that Tiktok is a good place to distribute their work through:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

The value of an algorithmic feed – of an intermediated feed – is to help you build your disintermediated, human feed. Find people you like through the algorithm, follow them, then stop letting the algorithm drive.

And the human feed you consume is input for the human feed you create, the stream of communicative acts you commit in order to say to the world, "This is what feels good to spend my attention on. If this makes you feel good, too, then please follow me, and you will sit downstream of my communicative acts, as I sit downstream of the communicative acts of so many others."

The more communicative the feeds you emit are, the more reward you will reap. First, because interrogating your own attention – "why was this thing interesting?" – is a clarifying and mnemonic act, that lets you get more back from the attention you pay. And second, because the more you communicate about those attentive insights, the more people you will find who are truly Your People, a community that goes beyond "I follow this stranger" and gets into the realm of "this stranger and I are on the same side in a world of great peril and worry":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Which brings me back to this blog and my fifth bloggaversary. Because a blog is a feed, but one that is far heavier on communications than a stream of boosted posts. Five years into this iteration of my blogging life (and 24 years into my blogging life overall), blogging remains one of the most powerful, clarifying and uplifting parts of my day.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/19/gimme-five/#jeffty

[meangirls-imagines]

hey could you do a Regina George x femme reader where the reader is a member of the plastics and gets revenge for Regina on Cady after finding out about the Kalteen bars?

Sabotage

Description: Reader finds out Cady is sabotaging her girlfriend, which is also the reason of her girlfriend's insecurities as of late.

WARNINGS: fluffy, cady being a bitch, reader being protective, regina being insecure

"Do you think I look fat?"

Y/N looked up from her phone at her girlfriend's question. Regina stood in front of her floor-length mirror in a sports bra and biker shorts. She was frowning at her body in the mirror. Y/N answered.

"No? You look gorgeous as usual, baby. Why the long face?" Regina turned towards her girlfriend. "Those bars Cady gave me aren't working I think. It seems like I'm getting bigger." Y/N put her phone down and opened her arms.

Regina walked into her girlfriend's arms as the girl held her tightly. "You look like a goddess, Gina. You don't need weight loss bars. Trust me." Regina pouted. "I just need to lose a few pounds. That's all." Y/N kissed the girl's bare stomach.

"Well, I don't think so. How about you go take a shower and we can get takeout and watch trashy reality tv?" Regina nodded and pecked her girlfriend's lips before heading into her bathroom. Y/N got suspicious and decided to grab the wrapper of the bar from the small trash can in the blonde's room.

Reading the label she saw the word "Kalteen" before she stashed it in her bag to do research on later. The blonde finished in the shower as Y/N placed an order for her favorite chinese place before pulling up a random housewives show as the blonde cuddled into her side.

She was going to get to the bottom of this.

To say Y/N was livid was an understatement. When she went home that night, she googled the brand of bars Cady had been giving her girlfriend, only to find out their true purpose.

To make the consumer gain weight.

GAIN WEIGHT.

That's why Regina had been feeling insecure. Because she was slowly gaining weight. Y/N was pissed. And it helped that she knew the culprit of the crime.

Cady Fucking Heron.

The girl Regina had taken under her wing to help. And this was how the girl re-payed her girlfriend? Y/N was going to get revenge.

In the best way she knew how.

The next day at school, she had approached Karen and Gretchen, telling them the situation. The girls were rightfully pissed. Y/N knew that telling Gretchen was the right choice because by 2nd period, a nasty rumor about Cady had been spread.

The rumor was that Cady had been infected with BV after having sex with the whole football team. Everyone had heard the rumor and by lunch time, it was all anyone could talk about.

Cady had become the school's laughing stock and as she tried to sit with the plastics, Y/N stopped her. "Sorry, Cady. But you can't sit with us. We can't associate with you anymore. Not after your diagnosis.." Cady turned a deep scarlet. "I don't have that! I don't know who started that rumor but they're wrong."

Y/N smirked. Regina sat in silence, wanting to see where this went. "Sucks having someone make everyone think something is wrong with your body doesn't it?" Cady looked at Y/N, confused before realization came over her face.

"It was you." Y/N smirked. "Why, Cady, I have no idea where you came up with that lie!" Cady glared at Y/N. "Why did you do it?" Y/N sighed and smiled. "Well, considering the fact that you messed with my girlfriend's body, I thought I would return the favor."

At that information, Regina looked at Cady. "What do you mean, messed with my body?" Y/N looked at her girlfriend. "Those Kalteen bars? They were making you gain weight, not lose it." Regina became angry at those words and looked at Cady.

"Is that true?" It felt like Cady was suffocating. She had been caught and no one was there to back her up. "Uh..I-" Regina put a hand up. "Save it. You're lucky Y/N only did the rumor. I would've ruined your life. But, since you're no longer going to associate with us, you're no longer a threat. Now, leave us alone, or I will ruin your life."

Cady scurried off as the blonde looked satisfied. Y/N sat down next to her girlfriend, Regina pulling her into a kiss. Gretchen and Karen squealed at the cuteness as the two pulled away. "Thank you for protecting me, baby."

Y/N smirked. "You're my princess, of course I'll protect you."

They didn't see Cady for the rest of the week, learning later on that she went back to being homeschooled. Y/N smirked when she heard the news.

Don't fuck with her girlfriend.

[jewish-vents]

i’m a teacher and i had a kid draw a swastika in my classroom on like. the second day of school. so one of our admin came in to two of my classes the next day to talk about it. and she started by telling this story about how she had a hijabi student. and a boy in the class was “really curious about what her hair looked like.” and had the students guess what happened next (pulled the hijab off, gross and awful) and how that might have made the hijabi student feel. at this point i’m sitting at my desk like “it’s been five minutes are we going to talk about the swastika” and then she finally goes “yesterday someone drew a symbol that represents division. and hate. and those aren’t things we stand for” and a kid (of course) was like what was it? and this fucking woman turns to me and goes “are you comfortable sharing what it was?”

?????? i thought that’s why you were here?? i thought you were here to explain why swastikas are not okay, and we are seven minutes into your little presentation and you haven’t said the word swastika or even jewish. so i said it was a swastika and several of the kids didn’t know what that was. which was disturbing on its own as i teach middle school but i digress. i said no way in hell am i drawing one so my admin looks at me and is like “could you google a picture?”

can’t believe i did this but i didn’t know what else to do in the moment so i pulled up a google image search of swastikas and projected it on the board. at no point did the admin say “hey you can take that down now” it just sat up there until i got uncomfortable and sick to my stomach enough to close it myself. and then she came back the next period and did the WHOLE song and dance again (no jewish, no antisemitism, not even the word NAZI which is insane to me) and STILL told the opening story about the hijabi girl even with two hijabi girls sitting in the class this time who were clearly uncomfortable.

this was like three weeks ago and it’s been quietly bothering me for a while and i finally told my (nonjewish) work friends about it and they were all like “holy shit that’s so fucked that she asked you to do that” and i told my (jewish) partner and he went “she couldn’t have picked up a fucking marker??” and that was when it really hit me.

maybe she didn’t want to be in a situation where she drew a swastika on a jewish teachers whiteboard. ok. but she apparently didn’t consider the WORSE implications of asking that same jewish teacher to google an image of a swastika and project a google image search of a page FULL of swastikas on her board.

AND she never once checked in with me after that. she left the class without talking to me again and hasn’t said a word about it since. i remember i even asked her “do you want me to leave the room” beforehand because im thinking i don’t want to have to look at swastikas but she asked me to stay because “the impact is real and they need to see it” which. uh. i’ve been pushing this experience down for weeks bc at the end of the day it “wasn’t that bad” but like. holy shit. she really wanted to put my trauma on display for the students instead of just asking me to leave and explaining what a swastika is/showing them one. and it took her nearly ten minutes to get to the actual swastika!! i’m just. so done

.

[mythalism]

about ai in fanfic, wasn't there some huge drama about a popular solavellan fanfic "writer" who used ai to pump out a total of 700k words in a month or something a while back?

I will never understand people who do that, not stolen valour, but just fake valour. Cheap plastic valour that breaks after a single use.

i have been largely not commenting on these AI fic debacles because im controversial enough on my own however at this point its getting so fucking annoying that idc anymore. yes people across the fandom keep writing AI fics that are blatantly AI in terms of the INSANE literally physically impossible word counts in short periods of time, lore inconsistencies, internal inconsistencies (characters changing eye color between chapters, for example), repetitive prose, repetitive scenes (like literally the same scene happening 5 times), repetitive formatting (very little variation in paragraph length), absolutely no spelling or grammar mistakes in an entire 400k word fic, no intentional stylistic errors, no character development across 400k words, strange nonsensical metaphors, and also they just feel... off? i DNF'd the one you're alluding to because it was just OFF. also i thought the portrayal of sexual assault was careless and clumsy and the age dynamics were... bizarre. a red flag even. AND THIS IS ALL NOT EVEN MENTIONING THAT THESE FICS COME UP AS 70-100% AI ON AI DETECTORS. ive literally been trying for weeks to get a false positive and ive yet to be successful. nothing human-made that i have put in that detector has ever come up as more than 0% AI. nothing. and yet people are literally fighting for their lives in the streets to defend these authors against "false accusations"? when they get accused and then cannot provide any proof in the form of notes, outlines, google docs version history? and then people start sending the accusers death threats and calling them slurs????? (yes this happened on both twitter and tumblr) ARE YOU PEOPLE FUCKING INSANE???????? WHAT DO YOU GET BY DEFENDING THESE PEOPLE THAT ARE LYING TO YOU???? POINTING OUT A FIC IS AI IS NOT BULLYING. ITS NOT A SMEAR CAMPAIGN. ITS A FACTUAL STATEMENT THAT MAKES THEM UNCOMFORTABLE BECAUSE THEY ARE RIGHTFULLY ASHAMED. GET A GRIP OHHHH MY GOD. dragon age has famously some of the most fantastic fic i have ever encountered and the fact that people are literally putting forth AI slop TRAINED THROUGH PLAGIARISM OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN PUTTING THEIR SOULS INTO THEIR WRITING FOR YEARS is so disgusting. AI is encroaching on every facet of our fucking lives and if you cannot speak up against it we are going to be literally devoured by it. chatGPT's energy consumption is immense, it uses the same amount of wattage daily as 180,000 US households and consuming what is equal to a bottle of water with EVERY. SINGLE. CONVERSATION. and every time someone uses it to write one of this braindead fucking fics THEY ARE DELIBERATELY CONTRIBUTING TO THIS. THE CEO OF OPEN AI HAD A FRONT ROW FUCKING SEAT AT TRUMP'S INAUGURATION AND DONATED A MILLION FUCKING DOLLARS TO HIS INAUGURAL FUND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY ARE WORKING TOGETHER!!!!! DOES THIS NOT INFURIATE YOU? YOU ARE MORALLY BANKRUPT!!!!!!!!! HOW DARE YOU CONTRIBUTE TO THIS????? FOR WHAT???? INTERNET CLOUT???? THAT YOU DID NOT EVEN EARN YOURSELF????????? GOODBYE!!!!!! LITERALLY LOG OFF. I WILL CHASE YOU OFF THE INTERNET WITH A BROOM I CANNOT STAND IT!!! GET OUT AND DONT LET THE DOOR HIT YOU ON THE WAY OUT

[sysmedsaresexist]

Something about that last post just really fucking irked me.

Normalize asking questions about your experiences and things you're not clear on

Yesterday, I had to ask some friends a question.

Any uterus having people that have had the electro therapy on their back-- very specific but Google isn't helping

Can the electricity on the lower back cause a period???

Wow, fucking cringe, what a faker, doesn't even know how her own uterus works, how do you make it this far in life and not know this stuff, FAKE UTERUS

I was so embarrassed to ask. I was scared, too.

And yet, I got an answer that I hadn't been able to find on my own.

Yes, it can happen.

Nice!

Well, first off, A, thank God I'm not hurt or dying, that's a relief. B, no one laughed. C, this shit isn't common knowledge.

Even if you think it's obvious, it's not.

Things can be related in the weirdest ways, and sound totally strange at first, and they turn out to be totally normal experiences.

What is dissociation?

Doctors say it's super complicated to understand, don't worry, you're not alone.

What's the difference between normal and pathological dissociation?

Oh, boy, let's sit down for this one.

What's the difference between trauma and abuse?

Fantastic question, first, are you doing okay? Second, it's complicated.

Could these two symptoms be related?

FUCKING PROBABLY, let's talk about it.

All these overgeneralized, sweeping statements, made under the guise of "correcting misinformation," and really only trying to prove people wrong instead of educate, hurt other people with that thing.

"Your doctor is ALWAYS right," fuck you, no they're not. "They know you better than you know yourself." Ohhh, fuck no, that's dangerous. "You MUST fit the criteria 😤."

The criteria:

WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE TRYING TO HELP?

Because you're failing spectacularly at doing any kind of good for the community you want to "help".

You lost the point so hard that your posts are now actively dangerous to people with CDDs that don't think clinically enough for you. You lost the point when you use papers that directly contradict each other over basic facts, and don't even realize it in your rush to be "right".

"Trust your doctor 100%," about any other disorder, would get you instantly canceled. Are you overweight? A POC? A woman? Trans? A combination? Well, you're fucked.

You, yourself, have probably never thought that.

So why did you say it?

Who cares what they're calling themselves, who cares whether the term is clinical, are they getting the help and support they need? Can we help clarify anything for them?

Using a people focused approach in therapy is totally fine, THIS HAS NEVER BEEN AN ISSUE. It may be a doctor-focused issue, but it's not a treatment issue. In other words, for every doctor that prefers a parts focused approach, there's one that'll use a people focused approach just fine, if that's what you want to do. Good job getting into therapy, congrats! That's what's important.

"Fictives," are so well documented that complaining about them is laughable.

Alters can take years to come forward after events, and may latch onto a character years after their actual formation. Who cares if the person can pinpoint the cause, or if they don't even care enough to try, are they getting the help and support they need???

Instead of saying, "that's impossible," let's start asking, "how can I help?"

Instead of saying, "your opinion is wrong," let's address actual misinformation. Talk to pro/endos about the trauma basis of DID. That matters a fuck ton more than whatever you're arguing about.

Instead of laughing at people who don't know things, learn to socialize and present corrections in a pleasant conversation. God forbid you're seen "being nice," to the other side.

As a very good friend said, better than I ever could, this whole "prioritizing research always over listening to others' lived experiences" is just the plural version of "academic theory on queer experiences is most important." You need both.

Many things can be true, all at the same time. Opinions are onions, they all make me cry or whatever the saying is. Single research papers should never be used generally. If you put all the papers together, anything is possible. This paper doesn't specifically talk about that thing so it's not possible.

Another paper, just a click away:

Are people happy, healthy, and feeling supported in their life?

Fantastic, that's what matters.

This blog is open to basic questions that people are scared to ask. I would also highly recommend sending @cdd-safe-haven those kinds of questions. It's completely unrelated to syscourse, hopefully the information will help more people.

[pseudophan]

Hi! I am very very new to the Dan and Phil world. A friend of a friend had a spare ticket to their Oslo show and I went along. This was my very first Dan and Phil experience. I had heard their names, but went in completely blind after all who doesn't love a theatre trip to a foreign country. I had a wonderful time, even if I didn't really understand a lot of the backstory it was so much fun, and i thought i sort of had it worked out. I have come home and binged their content now, but the more I watch, the more confused I am. I watched the Anthony Padilla Dan interview tonight and that was the point where I thought I need help. I was advised head here, pick someone nice and avoid twitter so here I am. When I was watching the show in Oslo, it seemed to me that it was the most married unmarried couple ever, having fun together on stage, poking fun at all the crazy that they had faced together over the years, however the more I indulge in their content the more I am confused as to what is real or not. Is the whole stage couple thing just an act? Were they together but now not? Have I misunderstood the whole show? That Anthony interview Dan seemed to be saying he was very single and ready to find a man, so I am very very lost. Google was no help. I don't want to over step but after watching them perform on stage, they seemed completely infatuated and in love with each other and in recent videos i watched. It is all very confusing. Whatever they are, they know how to put on a show. They have a new fan in me, albeit a slightly confused one. Hope you don't think I am overstepping.

first of all, that's an insane introduction to dan and phil and i love it. i was also at the oslo show! it was a good one

as for your question, well you see the thing is dan howell is chronically full of shit. that time period was a bit weird and he was a bit annoying and he had this "single and ready to mingle" bit going, god knows why cause it wasn't very believable, but.. idk, i think perhaps it was a mix of just that fitting his brand of "comedian" better and him desperately wanting to get away from the Dan And Phil label, but because he couldn't ever fully commit to it it just fell flat imo. like you can't be on youtube and on stage claiming you're single and wanna fuck around while also appearing in your boyfriend's videos acting married as fuck, it just doesn't work. and please no one start up that godforsaken open relationship debate again cause it's just not relevant, he wasn't selling open relationship he was selling single lol, at least in that anthony interview

but like all that said i don't really think he was trying to sell it to the phannies or any of his most hardcore fans, and i think that's exactly why he was willing to appear in phil's videos still showing a completely different, much more real, side of himself. the whole Single Dan On The Prowl thing was for himself and for random people who happened to be watching, more casual members of the audience

there's a looot more to be said about dan and the way he wants to be viewed, he talks about it himself a bit in the new show but you probably don't remember it that well if you saw it as an outsider like it's hardly the most memorable part of.. all of that haha, but basically to answer your question: dan's just kinda like that sometimes. you get used to it. or maybe you won't have to since he seems ready to finally maybe potentially possibly drop some of the pretence and just.... be. or he'll change his mind again and be back to bullshitting in a few months you honestly never know with that guy

but yeah dan in that era... grain of salt is all. it's just a persona and a desperate plea to be viewed as something, anything other than Dan From Dan And Phil. it's just kind of hard to get away from that when the other half of your double act is also your life partner, you know?

[aviradasa]

Tlb x gingersnaps!reader pt 2

Heres a short pt 2 to my Gingersnaps! Reader. Her nails are growing, her scars are healing and her temper is through the fucking roof. Let's see how this goes. These first chapters are kinda Paul and Marko centered but that will change later on

This got deleted from my Google docs twice so this is it's third time being written. 😭

@vxncevis

Warnings: swearing, mentions of gore, gaslighting the fuck out of David for fun, the ususal.

Pt 1

My masterlist

“It really got you Good. DAMNIT!” Marko shouts as he paces around; it almost reminds you of an animal trapped in a cage.

They had begun looking at my wounds, which, upon further inspection, were already healing. The bleeding had stopped already. So I don't really understand why he's freaking out.

“It's fine, really. I'm ok; look, see, they already stopped bleeding. I'm OK, seriously,” I tell him in an effort to calm his Nerves even though my speech still isn't how it should be due to being lightheaded from the bloodloss previously.

“That's the problem! Those wounds should have killed you. And the only reason they didn't is cause it infected you!” He says back before Paul lets out a sigh.

“He's right. You should have been long dead By the time we got here. Especially having passed out.” he Agrees as I glance Between the two of them in confusion.

“What do you mean infected?! Like I'm gonna turn into one of those things? No. No, I don't wanna be a fucking dog!” I exclaim in fear, I had intended on becoming a vamp once I felt ready but now that has been robbed from me.

“ No, no, listen. There's gotta be some way to stop this From happening, right, Marko?” Paul asks as him as he approaches us with a sigh sliding his hand down his face in a stressed manner before taking a seat next to me.

“ How the hell should I know? The only thing I can think of is Maybe giving her some of the blood that we have back of the cave, but we don't know how it would react with werewolf venom.” He replies with a shrug. All three of us sit in silence for a moment the tension High.

“ I don't know, maybe we should tell David and Dwayne. They know a lot more about this than us. Maybe they could help.” Paul throws out before I spring forward Grabbing hold of his arm.

“ NO! You can't tell them! They Might wanna just kill me. We can't tell them not yet. We can figure this out ourselves! Just Us three, please. Just don't tell them yet!” I plead, unknowingly digging my nails into his jacket as Marko eases me back.

I don't wanna take any chances.i know they probably wouldn't kill me but the thought claws at the back of my head. Though I can't hell but wonder if I may end up hurting them, and I really don't wanna think about that.

“Cool it with the nails girl. Fine. We won't say anything yet. But if this starts getting out of hand then we have to say something deal?” He agrees holding his hands up In surrender.

I let out a breath I didn't know that I was holding at his agreement before we all decide to leave. They help me stand which proves more difficult then I expected.

Marko helped me get to the bikes as Paul scoped up ahead. I didn't release how far I had actually run until we had to backtrack. Maybe it was just more painful due to the wounds; I couldn't tell.

We speed back to the cave as fast as the boys could drive, they snuck me in through a back entrance that I didn't even know about, I quickly made a b-line To my ‘room’ a little spot of the cave covered partially By rocks and old curtains from the hotel, immediately curling up in my bed.

The next night, it felt like a flip switch. The pain was unbearable, and I didn't even wanna move. It felt like period Cramps but worse. Plus it was only Fueling the frustration I've felt all damn day.

“What the hell is your problem?” David asked with an eye roll as he walked past the sofa I was sitting on with Dwayne.

Me and him have been butting heads all day cause of his Cocky ass attitude and his control freak tendency. So of course I naturally gave him a dirty look.

“ what's my problem? You. You and your attitude that's my problem.” I shoot back, earning a side eye from Dwayne, who goes back to minding his own business, not really wanting to put himself between this argument. Though he does enjoy listening To all the drama going on.

“I'm the problem huh? Please enlighten me on what this imaginary attitude is cause I'm lost here.” He snaps back in a sarcastic tone as he takes a step back.

He hates how you've been jumping on his case all night, and his patience is wearing thin.

“ you want a list? Sweetheart, I can go on all night-” I start, but before my frustrations can be vented, Paul and Marko arrive from town with Laddie, who takes one look at me and goes the opposite direction, Which makes me frown a bit.

The kid avoid conflic as much as he can. It's almost like he can sense it when he walks it the room and I hate Being the cause of it.

“Hey, what's going on here?” Paul asks as he evaluates the situation with an unsure look as Marko ventures off, Not before setting the food down. shooting me a look like that of a mother silently scolding a child in the grocery store before he walks away.

“ hes being a dick like usual.” I say as David turns to me in disbelief at the accusation.

“ I'm the dick? I haven't done anything to you today, you've been jumping on my ass since The sun went down!” He defends as Paul jumps in.

Apparently though the only way he knows how to deescalate a situation is to pick a side.

“ I mean you can be a dick sometimes. It's not your fault though dude. You probably just don't realize you sound like one!” Paul tells him with a pat on the shoulder as Dwayne lets out a laugh, which he quickly cuts short, earning a look from all three of us.

“Sorry, I'm just gonna go. Damn,” he says, standing up to leave; he walks past Marko, who is headed over to us.

He Jokingly kicks at Dwayne's shin as he passes, Making him stumble slightly; both men let out chuckles. Dwayne doesn't stop walking though, as he turns to Marko with a grin. “ Why thank you.” he sarcastically states before he disappears into a deeper part of the hotel.

The whole interaction was only background noise though, as David tried to defend himself. “ are you fucking serious? Why is everything that goes wrong In this damn coven my fault?” He asks as Marko takes a seat next to me with a smile.

“ Hey, now you don't get blamed for ‘everything.’ You blame me and Paul for quite a bit.” He interjects, earning a jab in the rip from me.

Even i know it's not the time for marko to start on his bullshit. I just want David to leave me alone.

“That wasn't even the point I was making- am I just going crazy Here? You all were not this stupid yesterday. You know what? I'm out. Figure your shit out by the time I get back.” David shouts as he exits the hotel fully. The sound of his bike speeding off towards town is the only sound for a moment before they both turn to me.

“What the fuck was that? Why the hell Would you start shit with him today? If it comes down to needing his help don't you think it might be best to play nice?” paul exclaims as he turns to me with a look of bewilderment.

“Well, it's not gonna come to me needing his help because we have this covered. Right?” I argue back, a bit unsure of how they both stare back at me like they are hiding something

“Oh my god, what's the problem? Just tell me.”

“so we have a little bad news. Turns out there's only 2 weeks before your first full moon.” marko drops, as paul sits at my other side snatching a slice of the pizza he and paul brought back.

“ Oh, and that speeds up the process leading to your transformation, which can explain why you're acting like a total bitch.” paul adds on with a laugh, as me and Marko look at him in disbelief.

I honestly can't belive he said that to me. But as I begin to process his bullshit marko jumps in.

“dude really? Just cause we are thinking it doesn't mean you gotta say it. ” Marko says to him with a laugh before i actually take a swipe at him with my nails, which have grown a surprising length since the attack.

He Avoids it with ease though, jumping up from the couch and I lunge at him. It's almost like he enjoys me trying to attack him as he does nothing but instigate using Paul's stupid ass word phrasing as a foundation.

I can already tell this is gonna be the most annoying 2 weeks of my life. Though I can't tell if that's me talking or the strange hunger gnawing at my stomach…

The next day I am heading into the lobby of the hotel when someone grabs my arm, yanking me into a darkened area of the cave.

Just as I'm about to strike them they catch my wrist.

“ don't it's just me. I know everything and I may have a solution.”

[brotrustmeicanwrite]

I fucking hate AI but heavens would it be useful if it wasn't such an unethical shit show

First, just to be clear, I'm talking about actually using AI as a tool to support your writing process, not to generate soulless texts made from stolen data instead of writing yourself.

Back when ChatGPT first became available it was still pretty useless so I had a lot of time to learn about how it's made, how it works and the ethics of it before ever touching the technology. I decided pretty quickly to never use it to generate text (or images) for actual writing and art but I still wanted to experiment with what else it could do (because I'm a nosy bitch that needs to know and poke everything).

And HEAVENS was it a blessing for writing with adhd

The last time I wrote more than 200 words in a day (outside of school work obviously) was 7th grade. I wrote over 8k just in notes the day Google's "Gemini" (formerly "Bard") became available to the public.

In order to not jeopardize my existing work I decided to make a completely new story with Bard's help that wasn't linked in any way to anything I had made before. So I started with a prompt along the lines of "I need help writing a story". At first, it immediately started generating a completely random story about a green tiger but after some trial and error, I got it to instead start asking questions.

What do you want the theme of your story to be?

What genre do you want to write in?

What time period do you want your story to take place in?

Is there magic?

Are there other sentient creatures besides humans?

And so on and so forth. Until the questions became extremely specific after covering all the bases. I could tell that all I was doing was essentially talking to an amalgamation of every "how to write" blog and website you've ever seen and telling it which part I wanted to work on next but it still felt great because the AI didn't actually contribute anything besides a few suggestions of common tropes and themes here and some synonyms and related words there; I was doing all the work.

And that's the point.

Nothing in that exchange was something I couldn't easily do on my own. But what happened was that I had turned what is usually a chaotic mess of a railway network of thoughts into a clear and most importantly recorded conversation. I can sit down and answer all those questions on my own but what usually happens when I do, is that every thought I have branches out into 4-7 new ones which I then attempt to record all at once (which obviously doesn't work, yay adhd) only to end up lost in thought with maybe 20 lines of notes in total after 6 hours at the table. Alternatively, either because I get bored or just because, I get distracted by something or my own thoughts about a different unrelated topic and end up with even less.

Working within the boundaries of a conversation forces you to focus on one specific question at a time and answer it to progress. And the engagement from the back and forth is just enough entertainment to not get bored. The six hours I mentioned before is the time I spent chatting with what is essentially a glorified chatbot that day, way less time than what I spent on any other project, and yet I have more notes and a clearer image of the story than I do about any of my real work. I have a recorded train of thought.

In theory, this would also work with a real human in a real conversation but realistically only very few people have someone who would be willing to do that; I certainly don't have a someone like that. Not to mention that someone doesn't always have time. Besides that, a real human conversation involves two minds with their own ideas, both of which are trying to contribute their own thoughts and opinions equally. The type of AI chat that I experimented with, on the other hand, is essentially just the conversation you have with yourself when answering those questions, only with part of it outsourced to a computer and no one else butting into your train of thought.

On that note, I also tried to get it to critique my writing but besides fixing grammatical errors all that thing did was sing praises as if I was God. That's where you'll 100000% need humans.

tl;dr writing with AI as an assistant has basically the same effect as body doubling but it’s an unethical shit show so I’m not doing it again. Also I forgot to mention I did repeat the experiment for accuracy with different amount of spoons and it makes me extra bitter that is was very consistent

[happypotato48]

Century of Love EP 1 Unhinged Tangent Thoughts

Well well well what we do have here, a BL about a homopobic century old granddwink and his long quest to find the reincarnation of the woman he lost. but too bad for him cause the heaven is a genre savvy BL writer and they know what's up. they says "you know what this bitch just ate our magic rock, let's fuck with him for a little bit and make this shit gay. it's better that way baby!"

History time, welp didn't want to start with this but here. tldr during this period it's very much sucked to be non central thai person and it's also extra sucked to be a chinese or indian person during this time. i never hear first hand account from my grandparents because they both passed before i was born, but the long lasting effect of it still very much present in my mom.

He's so beautiful and without the bad wig too, i'm so happy.

I will support heterosexuality this one time and one time only cause i liked the way this lady girl bossed her way through those pigs.

Magic gay rock! and thank you show for letting Daou take his shirt off this early.

Ok i'm not that emotional invested cause we just got here but damn, Daou is very good in this scene.

Severus motherfucking snape! ya'll can call me backy with the good ears cause just from this one line i instantly recognized him as a prolific voice actor whose dubbed a lot of C-dramas/movies and many hollywood movies without googling him. and yeah the first role of his that came up for me was snape lol

I love this family already.

He's cute and a ซินแส too. this is a kind of boy that i can take to show off to my chinese side of the family and they would be all over him.

You leave my future husband alone old man! he just a cute little candid man.

this dorky family is everything 😭

literal red herring.

Perfection 🤞

Ok show stop it this is too cute. god i love red thread of fate in my romance!

Awwww he so cute! nobody can resit this smile. mark my word this smile will be the dead of that old man.

Ok plz don't have another kinky sex in the supermarket cause that is nasty and i'm pretty sure a health code violation.

👀 i'm looking respectfully

Someone better BE!

ok that was a cute first ep. grumpy old man in denial vs the cutest sunshine that ever live, i'm seated. this show is more camp than initially what i thought it was going to be but hey it seems fun so i'm not complaining.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Cis Swap Smut Masterlist

a little spark in the dark (ao3) - dizzy, waveydnp

Summary: dee and fi pull a marie kondo on their sex toy collection

ain't gotta tell me (it's just in my nature) (ao3) - lesbaurinkos (pluginbaby)

Summary: It’s really, really fucking nice, looking in the mirror and seeing something that feels right for the first time since uni, probably. Since the stint when she’d chopped her hair off her first year just to get scared and grow it back out, brushed it off on YouTube as a tomboy phase and run back away from the thing that she thinks she’s always sort of known. The thing that’s prickled under her skin every time she’s put on a dress for an event, makeup for a video, and pretended it’s who she is.

She’s been sick of pretending for a long time now.

(or: fi gets The Chop™)

Barcade (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: It’s been… a while, since Dani and Phoebe let loose like this. Since they got drunk without a worry for the morning’s guaranteed headache. Since they knew tomorrow wouldn’t involve a show, or travel, or a video, or family.

A fic about performance and familiar cities.

crying at the nail salon (i'm so sick of online love) (ao3) - misbhvdan

Summary: The older girl is looking at her in a way that makes Dani feel hot all over. She suddenly realises she has no idea what she’s doing. Oh, no. Fiona is so much more experienced than her. She’s going to make a fool of herself.

“Would you want to sit in my lap?”

“Y-yeah,” Dani nods, reaching for her phone in a way that she hopes isn’t obvious. Hiding it from Fiona’s view, she opens Google and types in, how to have skype sex.

— Dani and Fiona video chat.

give me your hand (and we can play pretend) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: In which Dani's the one who decides her life should be some kind of cheesy porno.

her lips know me so well (ao3) - watergator (orphan_account)

Summary: diana loves making her girlfriend feel good

Hot and Cold (ao3) - thewakeless

Summary: Two idiots in love (100% bants and sex)

I want you in the most (un)romantic ways. (ao3) - philsslit

Summary: theres simply not enough 'dan and phil having lesbian sex' fics so I wrote something here ya go

it still gives me a head rush when I hear your name (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: after a night out Dan and Phil indulge in a little something new, as well as each other.

Loving’s so good when love is young (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Fiona's trying to watch the game, but her bored girlfriend is making it hard for her to concentrate on the screen.

our secret moments (ao3) - irrationalqueer

Summary: It’s a little bit exhilarating, the way they’d run, actually run down the hallway and crammed their tall bodies into this tiny alcove. Fiona hadn’t even given either of them a chance to calm down or catch their breath; she had just pushed Dani against the wall with her own body and started kissing her.

Ruby Woo (ao3) - phandomsub

Summary: Dani is dealing with yet another break-up, and Phil just wants to be there for her best friend.

sex on the beach (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: The bartender is hot, and she definitely knows it. Phoebe feels herself getting more and more resentful the farther into her second drink she gets.

she keeps me warm (ao3) - outphan

Summary: Dani's first time meeting the Lesters.

She's Got the Look (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Diana would have never thought that being constantly late would lead to meeting the most beautiful girl she had ever seen and change her life forever.

slip a ribbon down (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: Phil knows what its like to want and to keep that want to herself.

Dan sleeps over.

Subtle Foreshadowing (ao3) - dprkives

Summary: 2018 era dnp yuri after that one halloween pumpkin carving video because its my favourite uhhh yeah its absolute filth I hope you enjoy

synchronized (ao3) - Jamez

Summary: "Do you think if we had periods we'd be on at the same time?" —Phil Lester

(or, the one where Dan and Phil's periods sync up)

take me out tonight (meow!) (ao3) - misbhvdan

Summary: Fiona takes a couple of steps back and looks at his girlfriend expectantly. She shifts until she’s found a good pose, kneeling in the middle of the bed and pulling down the hem of the jumper with one hand so it’s covering her crotch. Looking straight at Fiona, she does the little pawing motion again with the other, biting her lip. Fiona is starting to feel very warm. Why the fuck did I agree to being the photographer for her slutty side hustle again?

“Aren’t you gonna take the picture, Daddy?”, Dani asks, acting innocently.

— Fiona helps Dani with her OnlyFans photoshoot.

The altar is my hips, even if it's a false god (we'd still worship this love) (ao3) - philsslit

Summary: As she watches Dani dance around in that incredibly short skirt she is filled with a mixture of love and lust. She can't take her eyes off of her.

or

dan and phil are lesbians. featuring sister daniel. and strap. that's it that's the fic.

Touch (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: We get so tired and lonely

We need a human touch

Don't want to give ourselves away too much

Touch

try a little tenderness (ao3) - quarterleigh

Summary: "Lillian blows into her life like a gust of forgiving wind on a humid summers day. The moment they meet, Dan feels as if she is exhaling for the first time in months."

Dan meets a beautiful woman at yoga.

uma thurman (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: It's not until Fi pushes her back against her iconic bedspread and makes it slow, makes it deep, looks her in the eye, that Dani realises exactly how much she's been missing out on.

Un-Dressing Room (ao3) - SonjaBlayde

Summary: Danni was annoyed that Pip took forever to try on clothes. She decided to take out her "frustrations."

You go down just like Holy Mary (ao3) - lesbosz

Summary: No matter how hard she tries, how much she prays Sister Daniel can't stop the sinful thoughts. The beautiful nun in the convent doesn't make this any easier for her.

[t0ast-ghost]

SEASON 2 TIME! Episode 1 and it’s… AMOK TIME!?! Oh boy:

- “Oh, Captain.” Yeah McCoy?

- McCoy is worried about Spock just like Chapel is worried about Spock

- The fucking nameplates, whatever they’re called that are stuck to the walls are hilarious

- He was having his period

- THEY ADDED DEFOREST KELLY TO THE OPENING CREDITS

- Does Spock have a knife behind his back??! Oh wait does Spock have an arcade machine in his room?

- OH MY GOD CHEKOV

- How can I even explain? It’s like he’s t posing or smt (mom I threw up kinda stance)

- The little fight between McCoy and Spock in the med bay, McCoy wants to know what’s wrong and Spock is not doing well

- CONVERSATION BETWEEN SULU AND CHEKOV HOLY COW

- “He’ll die. He’ll die, Jim.” Knowing that Spock needs to fuck during this episode makes it so much better, this really is how they decided to start the new season

- “The birds and the bees are not Vulcans, captain.”

- Spock pours his heart out to Kirk “I haven’t heard a word you’ve said.” WHAT KIRK? What?

- Chapel listening to Kirk and McCoy like “shut the fuck up and just kiss already.” She’s happy that Kirk decided to go to Vulcan tho

- SHE ENTERED SPOCKS ROOM WITHOUT HIM KNOWING???

- Their conversation is… strange

- “You’ve been most patient with my kinds of madness.”

- He can be accompanied by his closest friends. And he chooses Kirk and McCoy. My heart.

- “She is T’Pring, my wife.” Goddamn he’s been cheating on his wife with two men in space

- Imagine all the Vulcan’s could just hear Kirk and McCoy’s commentary

- What the fuck is happening.. they explained that she chose to make him fight… but what the fuck is happening

- “You think Spock can take him?” “I doubt it. Not in his present condition.” Brutal McCoy. Brutal.

- Those bells are annoying as shit

- When Spock talks to T’Pau he looks so small, could be the high angle and way he’s curled in on himself

- This montage is crazy.. and annoying. I really hate those bells

- “Jim don’t go and fight Spock.” “I’m gonna go and fight Spock.. out of friendship.”

- Babygirl your murderous rage filled look has captivated me

- BOOB WINDOW MOMENT! It’s just as beautiful as I thought it would be

- McCoy’s “SPOCK NO!” Is like. He doesn’t want his idiot boyfriends dead

- I cannot express emotion

- “He’s dead.” HES DEAD BUT ITS JIM MOMENT

- T’Pring is such a girlboss but holy crap that’s fucking ruthless

- OMG HES HAPPY OH MY GOD HEA SMILUNF OH MY I could watch this clip all day

- McCoy is so smart and we thank him everyday

- “When I found I killed my boyfriend, I lost any interest in my wife”

- To end it off we must have a bit of flirting. “In a pig’s eye.” Which according to google means ‘Expressing scornful disbelief at a statement’

Episode written by Theodore Sturgeon

Of fucking course it was him. See ya on the flip flop.

Masterpost

[loserlvrss]

CHAPTER3 ✶ Plotting an Evil Scheme ( 𝐃ong𝐇yuck )─────엔시티

( ɪˈpɪfəni ) ㅤ𓈒 ㅤ𓈒 life gives you a second chance with the man who understood, and never sought to change you 이동혁 &fem!rea. ⟡ series, angst, streamer!au, second chance love 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬───language, depression & anxiety disorder, crude humor, emetophobia 🧸 chap. wc : 1674THOU 🗯 morechaps

Periodically, You’d go through the stages of grief. Sometimes you would even go through them so fast it felt like you were listening to a crazy, heavy-metal song. One moment, you’d go from crying, to accepting, to being happy it happened, to sad it ended. More often than not, you’d linger on the last. 

Every time you almost broke the distance, your finger would land on Alexa’s contact, because if you asked her to, she’d talk you out of it. And, at first she was sad that it ended as well. You knew she didn’t want to tell you no but, she still did because she had more loyalty to you—knowing it was what you needed. 

Now, she believes it’s what you still need. 

DND. SOS

HEY GOOGLE! The sza album?  🔥🔥

DND. Fuck off.

HEY GOOGLE! I'm just kidding What's up babes??

DND. What do you think is up I'm about to break down

HEY GOOGLE! You want me to come over?

DND. No, what I want is for it to stop hurting so bad

HEY GOOGLE! You're going to make me cry

DND. Then we'd be crying under the same stars How romantic  Just kidding!  No romance here at my place.

HEY GOOGLE! You're throwing a pity party again

DND. This time you're uninvited. Good night, Alexa.

HEY GOOGLE! Y/n I didn't mean it like that You're just always sulking over Haechan It makes me sad I just want to see you happy again

You couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t know how to be happy again. You honestly just felt like you were here—there was no other way to describe it. It was just a comatose feeling, neither swinging one nor the other way. Honestly, it felt like you’d just been taking a never-ending bad trip. 

You stared at the spinning fan above your head, watching as it rounded and rounded the same path. You couldn’t not see yourself in it—relate to its mannerisms of the inanimate object which obviously couldn’t feel as you did; that couldn’t feel in general. 

You thought breaking up was hard, but the battle truly began the moment you realized you were alone, after so much time of having someone there. Memories were silhouetted where the paint wouldn’t cover—where the pain still lingered. 

You turned to your side, staring out at the blank wall; the fan making your head feel dizzier than usual. Your stomach turned with it…or maybe it was just the thoughts. Reality was, you couldn’t tell much anymore. You thought you had it figured out but, here you were, steps back once the sun went down. Funny how the darkness worked with your imagination.  

If only these four walls could talk, you probably wouldn’t be wondering how he felt. You’d probably be in a much different situation if only the plaster had mouths. Though, you’d rather they didn’t narrate everything they’ve seen since his absence. 

You closed your eyes, and it always seemed like the perfect opportunity for your memories to mock you. Honestly, you wish you couldn’t dream anymore—but, that would mean you’d have died, and that created more hypotheticals you couldn’t deal with right now.  

“Love,” A tender voice called out, and you quickly went to find it, “My daughter! Where are you?” She called again once you reached the entrance of the house. The woman embraced you, wrapping her strong arms around you and kissing your cheek. You did the same, slightly delayed from shock. 

You don’t even know if she realized what she said, but you could see it written across Donghyuck’s face when you turned around. You watched as his mother sashayed past him, adjusting the bag of food in her hand. 

Donghyuck’s mother was enlightened by him shortly after you two had started talking. He told her about you being practically homeless, what put you into the system at fourteen. You never lasted very long with the families you were placed with, always being sent back like you were just a free-trial. Eventually, you lost all hope of finding one that would actually want to adopt you. Then years went by, you turned of age and suddenly you were out in the big, scary world. 

“Did she just…” He trailed off, watching tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You nodded, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth and hugging your arms around yourself–trying to stop the faucet to the waterworks. 

Donghyuck pulled your wrist free, then closed the distance between the two of you. You sniffled softly, and he kissed the crown of your head. You didn’t have to tell him how much it meant to you, because he knew how hard you took rejection and how fast you absorbed any kind of parental figure. He knew you looked at his mother like a superhero. He knew you almost envied their mother-son relationship; how close they were, while yours were deemed unfit by the court because they didn’t want to clean-up. 

It still stings that they didn’t want you enough to get their shit together. 

Still, Donghyuck’s mother didn’t realize it but, those little words that probably had no meaning to her, that were just subconscious, were as deep as Mariana’s Trench to you–they were as much of a mystery as it was too. Words that satisfied a small part you’d thought you lost. It almost felt like fireworks were going off as it replayed. It almost felt like a part of your heart was clicked back into place. 

Oh, how you had so much to lose. 

“Why do you only have Doritos? What on Earth is Prime? Didn’t I teach you how to cook?” She rambled, scolding her son and catching both your attention, “Come here! Why do you have nothing to eat, Donghyuck? How are you even alive? Come help me cook something…you’re lucky to have her, oh my gosh.” 

Sirens woke you up; metaphorically, and as they flew past your window. You gasped for breath and wondered if your subconscious mind knew that you practically died every night, holding your breath like it was the last before taking a plunge. Though, they long passed by the time you turned over, the familiar fan still spinning. 

You shivered but your body felt like every fiber was set aflame. You kicked off the blanket in an attempt to regulate, the cool air not soothing any part of you. You just wanted to peel your skin off, feeling sticky and sickly, a cold sweat covering your pores. You groaned as you pushed yourself into a seated position. Your stomach churned again with the same kind of agony as before you miraculously fell asleep. 

You thickly swallowed, though now it was just lumped in your throat, and got from the drenched covers. Anyone who would see this out-of-context would think you were sick or having a terrifying nightmare, when the reality was much different. This was one of the good dreams; now bittersweet. And, you tried not to ask yourself about the elephant in the room but, you couldn’t help wondering if she’d still think of you the same way. 

It was sickening. You thought you could throw up.  

Maybe, in hindsight, that was because you already felt like doing so. But still, the knife of rejection cut you deep, straight into your heart you could physically feel it–spreading around your chest in the form of a burning sensation with little sharp sparks of pain here and there. You potentially thought that you were having a heart attack. 

It didn’t fade but the anxiety of a critical situation did. You knew the feeling all too well. You knew the pain like the back of your hand. It’s said heartbreak takes a toll on people. However, they didn’t tell you it would feel like dying. So, what a surprise you got when you woke up drenched in a cold-sweat for the first time. Then again, and again. Until eventually, it became your normal routine to fall asleep, wake up early in the AM and wash up. You wouldn’t fall back asleep no matter how hard you tried but, you were used to the scattered feeling throughout the day. 

HEY GOOGLE! I’m sorry y/n Just text me when you wake up

DND. Another day  Another slay

HEY GOOGLE! not funny. did you have that dream again?

DND. All lowercase??  You must really feel comforting right now

HEY GOOGLE! you bet i do🥰 try to get some more sleep

DND. And you stop watching crime documentaries at 3am Go to bed

HEY GOOGLE! You first

DND. Funny🫤

You practically peeled the clothing from your body. The sticky sensation gave you sensory-overload and made you mentally-gag. Then you put them into the basket, already filled with a week's worth of washing before stepping into the turned-on shower. 

The water ran over your skin but today it didn’t make you feel any less dirty–any better. It wasn’t soothing like it usually did. Honestly, it made you feel worse. Why’d it get to fall so freely and you couldn’t? Why were you envious of inanimate objects? 

Your body lowered to the ground, knees coming up to your chest. You wrapped your arms around your legs, placing your head against them; it was already heavy from the water droplets. 

You wanted it to make you feel better. 

Maybe living in Hell would be better than purgatory–there, at least, you’d know where you stood. Maybe feeling something would be better than nothing. But, everyone wants what they can’t have, and you were no exception. Honestly, it made you feel like a spoiled brat. You couldn’t look at yourself without thinking it–without being jealous of the people who get to walk around with him in their mind without feeling a sense of betrayal. 

You could hear a part of you plotting out an evil scheme, saying, if you can’t have him, no one can. Does that make you crazy? 

Well, that’s got to be better than numb.

© soph 2025. reblogs ────& feedback r appreciated ૮´ ꒳`ა thnx !

🐻📦ˊˎ- telling y'all rn that yn is truly heartbroken, and if you've never had the feeling then you won't understand her

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[livesincerely]

i was just reading back through your writer’s desks and remembered how much i loved the slideshow au! no pressure but do you have anymore thoughts on it? it’s just one of my faves <3

The outline/notes for that one are still in the very early stages but I’m happy to share what I’ve got so far!

00000

He’s waiting for Tony to come back from the bathroom, the next episode of Crime Scene Kitchen queued up on the tv, when his phone vibrates with a text from Jack.

this prod meeting is running long, probs won’t be back until late. Go ahead and watch w/o me

Everything ok?

ya but part of the set got busted during a scene change so I gotta figure when/how to fix it before tomorrow night

I’ll put your takeout in the fridge and save you some egg rolls

and that’s why you’re my favorite

Say hi to Medda for me

of course

“Jack’s not going to be home until late,” Davey announces as Tony wanders back into the living room. “He says we should start without him.”

….

“Dave,” Tony says, sighing deeply. “Why am I looking at a PowerPoint titled, “Jack Kelly + David Jacobs: A Comprehensive Argument for Maintaining Equilibrium.”

Davey pins him with a scathing look. “It’s a Google Slides presentation, you godless heathen.”

“What the fuck?” Tony asks, ignoring him, clicking rapidly through the screens. “When did you even make this?”

Davey shifts in his seat. “I mean, it’s more of a living document, so it’s never really finished—“

“Davey.”

“A couple years ago, I guess,” Davey says. “Give or take.”

Tony squints at the computer screen. “It’s saved on your old university account.”

“Okay, or maybe it was three months into junior year!” Davey admits, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was a stressful semester and I was super nervous about failing my animal science midterm and Jack was out on a date with that PoliSci major that lived upstairs and— And the when isn’t the point! The point is, according to my research, telling Jack isn’t worth the risk of ruining our friendship.”

“What are these graphs even measuring?” Tony asks, staring at one of the slides. “‘Overall Happiness, Jacobs v Others’?”

….

“Well, your math is absolute shit, for one thing,” Tony says, frowning at a graph entitled ‘Art Pieces per Subject’. Davey’s name is sitting in dead last. “There’s no way these numbers are right. Jack draws you literally all of the time.”

Davey frowns right back at him. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Uh, yeah he fucking does,” Tony disagrees. “You’re, like, one of his favorite things to make art of, period. He spends about half his time bitching about how copic doesn’t make a marker that matches your eyes—at this point I’m pretty sure he’s got more drawings of you than actual pictures.”

“I think I would’ve noticed if Jack suddenly started drawing me,” Davey scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s not like he’s subtle when something’s caught his eye. Plus, he lets me flip through his sketchbooks whenever he finishes filling one and I’m almost never in them.”

“Which one?” Tony asks.

Davey blinks. “Which one, what?”

“Which one,” Tony repeats, oddly intent. “Which sketchbook does he show you?”

“What do you mean, which one?” Davey asks, irritated. “The only one! The one he always— it’s not like it’s some big secret!”

Tony stares. Then Tony sighs.

Very quietly, Davey hears him mutter, “…pair of fucking morons.”

…..

“Okay, but, riddle me this,” Tony says. “Why don’t you just tell him? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“What’s the worst that could— I literally just went over all the reasons why that’s a horrible idea!” Davey exclaims. “It would ruin everything!”

“I really don’t think it would, Dave,” Tony says. “You and Jack… will ya at least think about it?”

“I’ve done nothing but think about it,” Davey says, and to his horror, he can feel his eyes starting to sting. “I can’t.”

“Want me to do it?” Tony offers, and he says it like a joke but Davey knows him too well to think that he’s anything but absolutely serious.

He jolts forward, arms outstretched as if to preemptively cram the words back down his throat. “Don’t you fucking dare, Tones, I am so fucking serious—“

“Okay, okay!” Tony says, holding up his hands in surrender. “I won’t snitch on your neurotic ass, even if it’d make you happier in the long run. My word as my bond or whatever.”

Davey huffs out a laugh, and it’s only a little teary. “Fuck you, my neurotic ass is the reason you made it to graduation, shithead.”

…..

“Hey, can I borrow your laptop?” Jack asks. “Mine’s dead and I left my charger at the theater.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Davey absently responds.

…..

“Davey,” Jack says, voice straining. “What the hell is this?”

“What is what?” Davey asks.

“This.” He turns the laptop around and— oh shit. It’s The Argument.

He feels his blood run cold. “Oh,” he says. “That.”

“Dave,” Jack says, his mouth set in a hard, thin line. “Did you make a fucking PowerPoint about me? About us?”

Davey swallows. “…It’s actually a Google Slides presentation,” he says weakly.

…..

“You’re telling me this is nothing?” Jack demands, incredulous. He tilts the screen back to show Davey the current slide, which is just an enlarged photo of Jack’s handsome, smiling face, surrounded by a halo of red arrows and the caption, ‘JUST LOOK AT HIM,’ written in boldfaced text. “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Maybe we can stop looking at it now,” Davey says, loudly. He leans over the back of the couch, making another panicked grab for his laptop, but Jack dodges out of the way, clicking to the next slide.