#but the fingies need a rest

[akumanoken]

Taking a rest and listening to Pearl Jam

[kagehisanotsu]

Calmly browsing tumblr to distract from the horrors <- he is stuck in ansems fucking behemoth chamber

[taduki]

M6 w/ on MC’s birthday

Happy belated birthday 2 me and @iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia!! Thank you for the help with my writer’s block too.. 🥺 Written using voice recognition, my fingies hurt…

Asra

Will never forget your birthday. Always wants to go all out for you. They get so excited decorating the place for you, they try really hard to hide it from you but always fail. Oh, and get ready for streamers EVERYWHERE. On the floor, on the walls, streamed across the ceilings, and probably in their hair too if I’m being honest…

It’s up to you if you want them to bake you a cake or not. Selasi is always prepared to make one if anything goes wrong. If anything, he already has the cake batter prepared each year…… Asra is quite experienced in baking anyway. What’s the better than baking you a surprise cake? Baking one with you! Azz just wants to be close to you on these special days and has little to no problem if you want to join him in preparations. They wanted to be able to serve you in this way, but they’ll toss it aside if it means they get to hold you while you mix frosting!

As for presents, they definitely overthink it. Should they make something? Should they take you out for dinner? Will it be good enough? Or should they do all of the above? Oh, DEFINITELY all of the above. The entire day is your birthday! (He definitely joked that he was your present at least once, c’mon).

Faust: The Cake Thief™️. You know she’s up to some thievery when you hear a faint, “Ooh, tasty!!”

If you didn’t know any better, you’re skeptical if Asra had some sugar or coffee early in the morning. They were gentle waking you upppp and walking you down the stairssss, but they seem to be literally rattling with excitement…

To tell you the truth, they were making homemade decorations all night after you fell asleep. They slept a little! Just not enough. So they found this “morning tea” stocked in their surprise cabinet, and they just assumed it was like a gentle coffee, and they were SO wrong. It was basically a double shot of espresso, and now they’re trying not to bounce off the walls all morning. When you tell him you guys can do something with that energy, he lights up and skips his merry little way to the musical side of Vesuvia with you to dance it off!

All in all, your birthday celebrations with Azz are very spontaneous and never secluded to just one day. They planned way too many things to fit all in one!

Julian

No! Nobody had to remind him what day your birthday is! …. Oh GOD he needs a notepad STAT.

Okay, actually he did remember. As soon as you told him what day it was months in advance, he wrote it down! …. Somewhere…….. He ended up forgetting about it surprisingly close to your birthday, but luckily for the both of you, Jules can’t keep his mouth shut, and the entire South End remembers your birthday and the plans.

The poor guy drives himself a little nuts trying to get everything in order, especially with so many people wanting to help. Like, just when he thinks he’s done, someone brings up something else he told them and he’s like “Why would I say that??”

The day is planned as such: First, a casual picnic breakfast by the docks together. Then, a nice walk around Vesuvia and maybe some undercover window shopping at the Red Market. Once he thinks you’re in need of a little rest, he tells you he’s got this truly amazing nap spot…. Yes, it’s the up in the theater rafters. He’s basically got a nest up there, real nest in the corner courtesy of Malak.

Malak brings his present before Julian gives you his. 💀 He gave it to you after Julian left you to take a nap. It was a stolen earring, of course… You made a mental note to return it to its owner once you had time.

Julian uses your nap as a means to prepare the stage for his short play. Since he kinda forgot a couple days before, he really wants to get this right for you and freaks out when he sees you peering at him from the rafters in the middle of setting the stage. He scrambles up to you and mumbles a bunch of different stuff about “Please go back to sleep”, “I’m sorry I’m so frazzled — I just wanted to dazzle you”, and “Wow, I should write that one down.”

You tell him you really don’t mind and he doesn’t have to stress so much about a day that you’re both supposed to enjoy, honest. It takes a bit more reassurance, but he caves in to the treacherous healthy habits and hugs you. He’ll still try to salvage your surprise though, and he asks you to chill out up there for a little longer.

As it turns out, he had a whole short play planned out for you! He had a couple of friends who owed him a favor or two and he performed a short and sweet show just for you !! He booked the stage for the bit and sat with you for the next show after his performance.

At the end of the night, Julian handed you this small, twine-wrapped parcel. He nudged you to go ahead and open it with a tired smile. When you opened it, it was a single earring. He explained he must’ve dropped the other one somewhere backstage and didn’t want to disturb the stage technicians for the moment, so you brought upon god’s wishes and showed him the other earring to his pleasant surprise. You told him Malak took it, and Julian just did nothing but smile and look at you, lovingly. He didn’t have to tell you happy birthday.

Portia

Ohhh, she remembers every year. She’s one of those gals that prepare a party like a month in advance.

She is VERY good at hiding the preparations. She is the gaslight gatekeep girlboss of birthday parties. She actually talked about it a lot with her friends and acquaintances! … and ended up hosting a potluck for your birthday. Everyone was just so excited! They couldn’t help it! Now, Portia doesn’t have to decide on a menu because it seems like every food you could possibly think of is laid out on the dozens of tables.

For the most part, Portia set up a simple, traditional birthday party surprise. The day started with you two going out to the market for some frivolous spending. She keeps a really good eye out for things you take a liking to and also finds a super cute new outfit for you to wear for the day! You tell her you didn’t have any big plans for the evening though, and Miss Girlboss just tells you she likes it when you dress up and winks. You know the wink.

Now, she has to keep you busy for a little longer without tiring you out too much so her friends have time to set everything up. So, she takes you on a little street food stall date where you guys try unusual flavors of jalebi and bara — where you try a couple jalebi with voice-switching syrup and try to make each other laugh the rest of the trip.

She didn’t actually have an idea when her friends would be done, so she was really risking it all, taking you back to the cottage. It’s not like you could tell, though. Her confidence was impenetrable on the walk home, and her intuition served her well because you two showed up just in time.

She covers your eyes before you walk into the clearing andddd SURPRISE !!! There are people here !!

She has to hold back from hugging and loving you up the entire time you walk around to explore. There are activities you would find at festivals here like apple bobbing and craft-making, along with the excessively long food stands, of course. It’s a very social event, so she’ll understand if you want to get away from the buzz most of the time, but she’ll still want to come with you! She values the quiet time.

The party itself goes on into the later hours of the night and the dancing just gets crazier and crazier. (Portia likes to be twirled). It doesn’t go into the early morning since some of Portia’s friends brought their children, but you say goodbye and thanks to everyone as they leave and you feel your body crumpling a little as the last few people go. With a lazy, goofy smile on your faces, you both leave the cleaning for the morning and crawl into bed together while Portia gives you one last mustered, “Happy birthday, MC…”

Nadia

Obviously, she goes all out every year for you! Banquet? Vacation? Party? Honey, she’s got it covered months in advance. All complete with a super tall cake you could swear was designed for a wedding and anything you could possibly ask for, honestly.

If there was ever a year Nadia forgot your birthday, she would’ve had to have been SWAMPED with work and burnt out to the point of forgetting days or even months. The last thing she could’ve imagined was forgetting such an important day, and she assumed she would be reminded by an advisor or just being brought up mid-conversation, but she was reminded by YOU. OF YOUR OWN BIRTHDAY.

It’s literally the five stages of grief for her, and she’s in denial until she checks her calendar and remembers the dates leading up to today.

She throws her arms around you in a tight hug and apologizes deeply and repeatedly. She tells you of all the things she had planned as if she doesn’t have the power to set aside all her duties for the day just for you. She’s aware of this of course, but she feels so guilty for forgetting… When the palace servants and advisors realized she’d forgotten, they went into a frenzy, asking her if she’d like them to have preparations done as quickly as possible. It’s up to you if you try to stop her.

If you allow her to go through with the emergency preparations, she’ll feel a little more relief that she can still pamper you. She’ll line the dining table with your favorite foods and at the end of the meal, you’ll have a — Nadia’s definition of— modest sized birthday cake, gorgeously decorated with edible flowers and tasty treats. Every servant working that day was paid extra for the trouble. Honestly, Nadia probably prepped the rest of the WEEK for you on the same day.

If you opt to stop Nadi in her tracks and explain you really didn’t want anything too big anyway, she’ll be gracefully surprised and a little disappointed in herself. She has the resources to treat you and your refusal feels like you’re disappointed in her too! But she understands and asks you what you really wanted for your birthday after assuring you she can give you the world.

And so Nadia allows you to have a modest birthday… on her yacht. She couldn’t help it !! Your skin glows in the sunlight and you look cute in a big floppy hat! She packed some fancy snacks, supplies for things you’d like to do on the yacht and beach, and a cute bakery-sized cake with “Happy Birthday, My Love” written on it in cursive. She will insist on feeding you if you’d like, like always. She wants to do anything you want to do today! And I mean anything, alright…

Muriel

One of Muriel’s bad habits included not keeping track of the days. The only times they really mattered were when seasons changed. Slush on the forest floor meant it was time for him to stock up on food and wood. Smells like a rainstorm? He’s gotta get those holes in the roof patched up before dusk.

But NOooOooOoo, you just had to show up and show him life is beautiful! Disastrous for the poor guy, truly. Now, he goes to bed thinking about nice things that happened during the day like how sleepy your face looked during breakfast or how cute you looked carrying that basket of herbs.

The point is, he knows how important birthdays are to people, (He’s learned his lesson from the “Asra-stravaganzas”), and he wants to make the day special for you too! So, he double checks with Asra a couple times just to make sure he’s got the day right. His preparations include: pancakes, flower garlands, and a mental list of embarrassing things he wants to say to you (literally just romantic stuff like I’ll love you always).

He’s surprised he’s actually kind of excited — or is this nervousness? You’ve always told him those two are hard to differentiate between…

When the day comes, he wakes up first as usual and goes about his daily routine. The only thing that changes is that he regrets not practicing how to make pancakes in advance… Not to worry! He read up on it before and knows exactly which ingredients to use and what to do. Thank goodness it actually comes out properly and just in time for you to wake up. He’s never been so excited to tell someone “Happy Birthday…”

As for his present, he realized he dug himself a hole because he regularly gifts you things. Some things that require a lot of time! He probably gifts you a handcrafted wooden figurine every month because it was simply his go-to, but now he’s gotta step out of his comfort zone. So, what does he do? He makes another wooden craft. Except it’s not a figurine, it’s a 3D model of your name with stories of the adventures you’ve gone on carved into the letters. You spend a good part of the day tracing your fingers over them and reminiscing with him (while trying to rearrange the letters to spell other words).

He takes you on a late picnic so you can watch the sun set and the stars fade into the sky, and if you fall asleep, he’ll carry you home and tuck you in.

Lucio

Surprisingly (sorry, Lucy), Lucio remembers your birthday and anticipates it for like a month before the actual day! Lucio’s birthdays were big excuses for throwing extravagant, luxurious parties and what better to do than throw you one?

Obviously doesn’t have the resources anymore to give you the type of party he always threw, so he starts thinking, and then worrying. He figured this would be the last thing he’d ever worry about. Just a couple of drinks, some music, and a cake, right? Except now, he wants the best for you, regardless of luxuries, which means he has to be willing to do what you want. What DO you want??

Aaaaand that question opened up a can of worms. What if you want to spend your birthday without him? Maybe with Asra? That guy is annoying, for sure, but they DID bring you back to life after he killed you. They’re basically your family. But you’re also HIS family… right?

The days keep going by and he tries not to think too hard about it, being his happy-go-lucky self, picking up a bottle of something or two, but every other purchase in your spirit urks him. It’s a miracle he gets to sleep the night before your birthday.

He gently wakes you up with a little ache in his heart and kisses you out of bed. You two have the whole day for yourselves !! Now you get to do what you want to do today as Lucio is secretly clenching his heart that it involves him.

As soon as you say you wanna do something with him, he crumbles and clings onto you and lets all the troubles flow out of his mouth. He was so worried. He loves you so much, he wanted to spend today with you more than anything. He saved his money for the occasion, and he’ll take you wherever you want to go. Hell, he doesn’t care if you wanna celebrate the whole week! As long as you’re with him…

(Feel free to make fun of him, just a little. He’ll allow it, but he’ll grumble and huff about it all day, all week how, “This counts as your ONLY birthday present, MC! You’re not getting anything else!”)

You end up going a couple of places he suggested like a diner that overlooks the marketplace and going to see a “very overrated showing” at the theater, as he claims. (He ended up just watching you laugh half the time). As for your present, he gifts you a shiny box that Mercedes steals immediately after he takes it out and proceeds to throw it around with Melchior. Lucio is definitely humbled by how worried like hell he was about how expensive the contents were. Once he’s worn out and ready to give up, Mercedes just walks up to you, sets it on your lap, and plops beside you for belly rubs. It was a custom made silver bracelet with two wolves chasing each other around it. Lucio and Melchior plop down on your other side and Lucio tells you one last, exhaustive, “Happy birthdayyyy!”

[dovand]

things to do with one hand/limited grip strength in your dominant hand

hi spoonies and suchlike. i am having some sort of a flare-up (probably carpal tunnel at this point, tbh) in my dominant hand, & i've been going CRAZY INSANE trying to keep myself occupied without exacerbating it. here's some stuff i have tried/am meaning to try that seems doable, even with the working hand being my non-dominant one :] feel free to add further suggestions!

crafts

finger painting (or drawing on the shower door/mirror when it's steamed up. you will have to BYO steam though)

air-dry clay with one hand? anything's possible! (keep it small, maybe?)

you could try learning to write/draw with your non-dominant hand (if that one isn't also fucky) (and not if you, like me, are prone to going "ah fuck it, i'm faster with my dominant hand, surely it can't hurt") (it CAN hurt) (ow)

pixel art! no gripping necessary; especially easy with a touchscreen. i've been using Pixel Studio on my ipad and it's pretty good! Aseprite on the computer will always win out for program quality, but clicking on my trackpad is more arduous than tapping a screen

music! i loveeee beepbox and it's all piano roll, so you don't have to play stuff realtime. otherwise you could try really resting your long-suffering fingies and doing a vocal mix on a DAW like garageband, cakewalk, logic, or reaper

origami if you can use your offhand for some support when folding

character playlists (suggested by a friend. love u, pal)

a friendship bracelet if you can secure it on something (and if you can do lots of tying knots)

write something? (dictation software might help if you can't type/handwrite with your off-hand. you could also just record yourself and transcribe it later)

games

some computer games can be played one-handed (either by default or with some remapping)—here's some reddit posts with suggestions in the comments (1) (2) (3) and a list article from thegamer and a steam collection. i don't think it's on any of those posts so i also rec Hades—you just need to remap the attack action (i put it on L-shift usually) but then you're good to go

on mobile: puzzle games like monument valley, a dark room, gubbins (hi nerdfighters), colour-matching games (i played I Love Hue for a while). is bejeweled still around?

on mobile again but fast-paced: platformer/tappy games like alto's adventure (or the sequel), crossy road, jetpack joyride, temple run

on mobile but longer-form: a dark room (again), godus, any town-building game (i think simcity is still kickin')

card games or chess online, Perhaps? i like a good bit of solitaire

outside

i don't have the energy to do these sorts of things, but perhaps you do

go to the park!

get a little treat and perhaps even sit in a nice location to consume it

window-shop (craft stores are excellent for this. don't bring a bag unless you want to Accidentally purchase pretty fibres that you will not use)

browse in the library. use your good hand to get stuff off the shelf

[saltpepperbeard]

I was tagged by the lovely @naranjapetrificada to share my Thoughts and Speculations for the timeline of OFMD S2, ie "eight predictions for eight episodes." Thank you, and sorry for the late response; I was facing The Horrors (derogatory). But now that the panic that is OFMD S2 being almost 3 weeks away is setting in, WHAT BETTER TIME TO RAMBLE ON AND ON ABOUT IT HSDJKS~

girlies (gn) there is honestly so much to account for. there are so many different elements that we've seen through promotional material and spoilers that i'm just like,,, how is this all going to Fit. BUT LET'S TRY OUR BEST SHALL WE LMAO-

((also hi hello this is ✨Jodi From the Future✨ coming in after typing up this entire thing, and realizing it was only supposed to be like,,, eight ideas for what's going to happen in the eight episodes. meanwhile my bitchass did a full blown prediction for what's going to go down timeline wise PFFF. BUT SURE YEAH THAT COUNTS AS ONLY EIGHT RIGHT? IT'S FINE,,,))

Episode 1. I think this is going to be more of an establishing episode. Establishing where the characters are, what they're up to, what challenges they're facing, etc etc. So, it'll likely focus on Stede's yearning, and Ed's heartbreak. I wouldn't be surprised if the "he's actually a good guy," the bottle kiss, and the wedding crash are all in this episode. And maybe it'll end off with the wedding topppersjfskfhsjklklbf,,,

Episode 2. An episode to build off of the motivations established in one, and also to move the characters a bit closer to each other. Maybe this is the episode where Stede tries to employ the help of the Red Flag Fleet, because they need a better mode of transportation to catch up with the Revenge. And maybe if that doesn't go too hot lol, maybe the storm will be towards the end of this episode to beach the Revenge somewhere. Though, I feel like that's quite a dramatic event, and would make more sense to occur a bit deeper in the season? But based on the rest of my thoughts/theories, it simply Does Not Fit SJKDS. So for now, I'm treating it as like, a divine intervention type beat where the crews are being beckoned closer together.

Episode 3. For SOME reason, be it just crossed fingies or the consideration of parallels or both, I have a feeling that Stede and Ed are going to reunite at the end of this episode. I think taking the episode release schedule into consideration also points to a reunion, because then we'd be left to sit with that for a week l m a o. I feel like we'll get to see all the intense emotions of them seeing each other for the first time in months, and their subsequent awe/reactions, before it abruptly cuts off as a cliffhanger. As for the actual BODY of the episode?? MAYBE the storm could also fit here in the middle somewhere, with the same sort of "the universe is wanting these people to be back together so lol STORM BE UPON YE."

Episode 4. The aftermath of the reunion. You get to see the proper reactions, ie Ed probably being dismissive and Stede trying to remain warm/enthusiastic. And then allllll the characterization that comes along with that, ie Stede's crew being like "I told you so" or Izzy being like "oh my FOOKIN god edward was throwing knives around and crying and making us crash weddings and now stede actually shows up and tHIS IS WHERE WE'RE AT???" So maybe, MAYBE, this is where Izzy steps in and tries to better things a bit by helping Stede, because he's Sick and Tired HSDJKLS. Like, this'll be the Fanfiction Episode™.

Episode 5. Wouldn't it be something if the party was in this episode to mirror the 5th episode in season 1 l m a o. And forgive me, because my theories towards Certain Events have seesawed ALL OVER THE PLACE HSDKJS. But hear me out hear me out. So episode 5 starts off as a sort of continuation from episode 4, and maybe Stede is trying to work himself up to better woo Ed. Like he's pulling out all the stops, which is why he's trying to train and better himself and do whatever he can.

But then MAYBE he has some sort of realization that like...Edward, his Ed, was so so excited to go to the Fancy Party Full of Hoity Toity People™. And was so so happy to dress up and be beautiful and feel himself. And so he decides to host a similar party on the Revenge for everyone, because not only would it be good for morale, but good for his beloved. So, they do, and everyone is Hype. Wee John gets to dress in drag, Roach gets to fire canons, etc etc. It's all so full of color and life and happiness again.

And, of course, maybe Ed and Stede have a Moment of some sort. I'm really really praying for a "Ed...May I have this dance?" type thing, followed by them having their first quiet and romantic moment of the season. And you can SEE some of Ed's walls coming down, even though he'd probably still be hesitant/tense. Maybe they even have an almost kiss type moment jUST LIKE IN THE PREVIOUS 5TH EPISODE. Or maybe the hhngfngmfngdmfd pearls,,,

...But then EVERYTHING CHANGED WHEN THE FIRE NATION ATTACKED SJDKSHKLDS. Because that ONE shot in the trailer where Wee John is shown in drag looks like a party, but also a party that was crashed by very unwelcome guests. So like, wouldn't it be something if the almost kiss moment was interrupted by some sort of enemy, and everything rapidly goes downhill.

Everyone gets bound, Stede gets tied to the mast, and...what if THIS is where Ed is thrown overboard. What if the enemy is someone who has it out for pirates, and very much has it out for Blackbeard in particular. So, they tie up Ed and throw him overboard in a murder/execution attempt, and Stede has to watch :))). Something something a parallel to Ed having to watch Stede get almost killed NUMEROUS times hskdjs. The turns have tabled.

And maybe there's a desperate moment between them right before Ed's thrown over. Maybe a desperate lock of their eyes, a desperate scream from Stede, a desperate declaration of feelings, even. And then the episode ends with Ed in the water.

Episode 6. The aftermath of episode 5 ofc. Stede and the crew have been captured, or maybe even just Stede has been captured. And Ed washes up on the beach alone.

I think this'll be where Ed sort of grounds himself and comes back into himself, because the gravity of the situation will hit him particularly hard. Like, he FELT things again. He felt BEAUTIFUL again. He felt DESIRED again. He felt like HIMSELF again. And didn't act upon it, and got separated from his sweetheart before he could. I wouldn't be surprised if he subsequently fights ghosts/demons of his own here, ie Hornigold or his father or individuals equivalent. So like, the barrel/clobbering shot is him fighting against his past type deal.

And then MEANWHILE, I think this is where Stede's going to get tortured. The darlings are both going to Go Through It in this episode.

AND, the more I look at that one shot of Ed in the woods with someone present with him, the more I'm like...IS that Wee John??? Or is that someone else? Because it would be something if the Revenge Crew was left alone, and only Stede was captured for his crimes against the Navy (murders and the escape from the academy). And then they somehow try and scramble/get help/link back up with the Red Fleet/find Ed themselves.

So, that one shot could have been them doing just that, and catching him up to speed after all that's happened. And maybe there's some sort of pivotal forgiveness moment/apology moment between Ed and the crew there too.

And then everyone's like...holy shit we need to go and KICK ASS ALL TOGETHER.

Episode 7. ✨The Battle Episode✨. Aka everyone kicking ass all together HSKDLS. Everyone uniting against a common enemy and battling it the hell out. There could be naval battles out at sea between the Red Flag Fleet, the Revenge, and the Navy, and then battles on foot on the black sand beach.

Something something wherever the enemy took Stede to torture him was also the same island Ed ended up on PFFFF. So, something something Stede somehow gets free, be it through his own devices or his crew, and they all start battling it out.

And ED is of course in the fray as well, especially pissed if he hears what they did to Stede.

Annnnd it leads to yet another reunion, ie them fighting to each other on the black sands. And I really, really, REALLY cannot express how badly I want them to fight to each other just to strongly kiss the moment they make it.

Annnnnndd then okay lol the CAVE. I'm thinking that one or both of them sustain injuries, or maybe just have to go and hide out somewhere since they're both VERY much wanted by the enemy. Something something them having to tend to each other and also having emotional conversations/talking it through, mixed in with more kisses.

Annnnnnnnnnd something something they all manage to fend off the enemy...*Buttons voice* FER NOW...

Episode 8. I think this episode would start off very unassuming. Like, the crews have won their battle, and go on to celebrate/recuperate. Maybe this is where they end up at Jackie's, and Ed gets to do those Soft Eyes, because he feels better and safe and IN LOVE. And so maybe things will be a bit easy-going and romantic to start off with.

Remember the friggin lighthouse. Something something "major romantic moment between two key characters." Something something WHAT IF ED AND STEDE HAVE A MAJOR ROMANTIC MOMENT IN THE LIGHTHOUSE HERE. would they be insane enough to do a proposal or something equivalent idk. i think i wouldn't make it to the other side if that was the case.

and if it's not a full proposal, even a deep declaration like stede going "i'll be by your side forever. if you'll have me" would just be hsfkshfskljkladhalkjhdfklgd.

But of course lol, OF COURSE, SILLY LITTLE PIRATE SHOW WILL PROBABLY END WITH SILLY LITTLE PIRATE PROBLEMS.

So, I would not be surprised if some SHIT goes down at the end of episode 8, maybe even leaving Ed and Stede separated again. Or at least putting them up against very very high stakes.

...

*GASPS FOR AIR* LMAO. I know I'm not even accounting for everything we've seen here. I know there are still elements like LUCIUS, the other couples, Anne and Mary, and some other little tidbits we've seen. But this is just what my brain Cooked. THIS IS WHERE WE ENDED UP SHDJKS.

And it'll be very very interesting to see what actually happens.

SEE Y'ALL IN LESS THAN A MONTH HSDJKS

[sirfrogsworth]

I guess I'd need to go to Best Buy and just test it out, but I have been considering saving up for a PS5 (who knows how long it will take), but I have always had serious issues with their controllers.

I have very small thumbs proportional to the rest of my hands and fingers. Like, my 5'2" mom had the same sized thumbs as me at 5'11". All of my other fingies were much longer, but my poor little thumb was just not meant to be normal-sized.

The XBOX 360 controller fit beautifully in my hands, but the PS3 controller caused literal pain and I had a very hard time getting proficient.

But people say the PS5 is much better and improved. I just wondered if the ergonomics were drastically changed or if it still feels like a previous gen controller.

I guess I could save up for an XBOX, but it really seems like PS5 has cooler games like Spider-Man and whatnot.

[artastickk]

I have been working my fingies to the bone fleshing out my acotar oc Calliope Archeron (baby sister;cuz Feyre gives middle child tbh) 🥰 I wrote a bunch of these to be like “bonus chapters” to the books so they won’t have a succinct flow to them but you will recognize where in the book it’s happening. This one is introductory and is from Callie’s pov of when her sisters left for town to sell the wolf pelt. 💙🦋💙

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wind howled against the worn wooden walls of the cabin, a sound so familiar it had become part of the background of Callie’s life. She sat by the fire, pulling the thin blanket tighter around her shoulders, watching as the flames danced weakly, fighting to keep the cold at bay.

Across from her, her father sat in his usual chair, his fingers carefully working a small block of wood. The steady scrape of the carving knife was the only sound in the room, apart from the crackling of the fire. He had always carved—ever since Callie could remember, it had been a constant in their life, like the cold, like the hunger. But it wasn’t just a mindless task for him. It was his way of holding on.

Her father’s hands moved slowly, with the same quiet precision she had grown used to over the years. There were days when he didn’t speak much— when he seemed lost in whatever sadness lingered behind his tired eyes. But even on those days, even when he was silent, Callie never felt entirely alone with him.

“Papa,” Callie said softly, her voice breaking through the stillness. He didn’t look up, but she knew he heard her. He always did.

“Feyre’s been gone a while, hasn’t she?” she asked, though it was more to fill the silence than anything else. She already knew the answer. It had been hours since Feyre had left for town, Elain and Nesta trailing behind her. Callie had stayed behind, not needing new shoes or coats, content to be with her father in the quiet.

“A while,” her father murmured in response, his voice as soft and tired as ever. But there was warmth there, even if it was faint—something gentle in the way he spoke to her that made the edges of their harsh reality feel a little softer.

Callie watched as he carved, his hands slow but steady, and for a moment, she wondered what he was working on this time. He had made her countless little figures over the years—animals, small birds, things to remind her of the beauty outside the walls of their cabin. Things to remind her that there was more to the world than hunger and cold.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her knees as she curled herself tighter in the blanket. "What are you carving?" she asked, curious.

Her father’s hands paused for a fraction of a second, as if he were considering how to answer, before he continued working on the piece. "A butterfly," he said quietly, his voice low and rasping, but kind.

“A butterfly?” Callie repeated, her eyebrows lifting. “We haven’t seen one of those since... well, since summer.”

Her father smiled faintly, the lines around his eyes deepening as he glanced at her, his gaze warm despite the sadness that always lingered there. "We will again."

Callie felt a soft flutter in her chest at his words. There was no certainty in them, no promise that things would be different soon, but the way he said it

—like it was simply a fact of life—made her believe it, if only for a moment.

“You always carve such beautiful things, Papa,” she said, her voice softer now, watching the careful way his knife moved over the wood. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Her father chuckled lightly, the sound so rare it made her heart ache with its softness. "It’s nothing, Callie. Just something to keep my hands busy."

But she knew it was more than that. She knew these small carvings were his way of holding onto something beautiful, something that hadn’t been taken from them. She loved the way his figures filled the house, little reminders that even in this bleak life, there was still room for beauty. Even now, when they had so little, her father’s creations brought life to the space.

“I’ll carve you something beautiful one day,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. It was a promise he had made before, one he whispered now like a gentle reassurance. Callie didn’t need him to carve her anything—what he gave her already was enough. But still, the way he said it made her believe he would, one day, make something grand, something that would last.

Callie smiled faintly, but the ache in her chest remained. They lived in a world where beautiful things rarely lasted—where cold and hunger ate away at whatever good was left. But her father’s quiet strength, his careful hands, reminded her that there was still a small corner of the world where hope existed, even if it was carved out of wood.

She shifted on the small stool, tucking her legs beneath her as the fire crackled and spat, the flames dimming slightly. “I’ll get more wood for the fire,” she murmured, rising slowly, her body stiff from sitting still for so long.

Her father looked up from his carving, his brow furrowed slightly. “You should wait for Feyre. She’ll be back soon.”

Callie glanced at the door, her breath visible in the cold air as she exhaled softly. “I’ll be quick. I don’t want the fire to die.”

Her father’s eyes softened, but he nodded, returning his attention to the butterfly taking shape in his hands. Callie moved toward the door, wrapping the blanket around her tightly as she pulled it open. The wind bit at her skin the moment she stepped outside, the sharp chill of winter sinking into her bones.

The world outside was still—too still. No birdsong, no sounds of life except for the low groaning of the wind through the trees. Everything felt frozen. The meager pile of firewood sat under a layer of frost, and Callie knelt by it, gathering as many pieces as she could carry.

She could hear the wind whispering through the trees, feel the biting cold against her cheeks, but all she could think about was Feyre, out there somewhere, walking the long, snow-covered road to town. She hoped Feyre would return soon—with coins, with food, with something to ease the weight of the hunger that gnawed at their bellies every night.

It was always Feyre who went out into the world, always Feyre who hunted, traded, brought back what little they had. And every time she left, Callie worried it would be the last time she’d see her.

She’s so strong, Callie thought, her chest tightening. Stronger than the rest of us.

Callie stood, balancing the wood in her arms as she turned back toward the cabin. Her fingers were numb from the cold, her breath coming in short, visible bursts as she hurried back inside, pulling the door shut behind her with a soft thud.

Her father hadn’t moved. He was still carving, still lost in his own quiet world. Callie placed the wood beside the hearth, adding a few pieces to the fire, watching as the flames flared briefly before settling into a steady burn.

She glanced at her father again, her chest aching with a quiet kind of love— love for the man who, despite everything, still found a way to bring beauty into their lives. Even in the darkest times, when it seemed like they had nothing, he still managed to carve out a piece of hope. For her. For all of them.

Callie returned to her stool, wrapping the blanket tighter around her as she settled back into the silence of the cabin. The wind howled outside, but in here, in this small, fragile world they had built for themselves, there was warmth. There was the sound of her father’s knife scraping against wood, the soft crackle of the fire. And for a moment, that was enough.

She glanced at her father again, watching the butterfly take shape in his hands. I’ll carve you something beautiful one day, he had said.

Callie believed him.

[cleanwhiteroom-archived]

Hi, mate! Thanks to this account I now know that Cwr and Elementals had new works (if I can say that about September 2022). I read DCWT and I exploded in the street a few minutes ago after reading one of ur post about new texts. Can you help me to know in what order I need to read all the new stuff and where I can read/listen them? Is only Pacific Rim related or there is some other fandom and/or new original world?

@umbra-life HI SORRY hello! Yes! Welcome! I do need to update my pinned post one of these days - today is sadly not that day because it is 1am but rest assured I will be fixing it soon!

If you kept up with CWR’s work in Pacific Rim prior to 2015 or so, then you probably read Designations Congruent With Things, Out of Many Scattered Things, and the one shots such as Like The Twist of a Plot. If you’re looking for new CWR shenanigans in the Pacific Rim Universe since 2020 or so, the big New Addition is called Aftermath and it is gorgeous 🥹 You can download/read Aftermath on CWR’s blog here! If you want to reread everything in the Designations universe, I’d probably suggest just going in release order: DCWT, OOMST, Aftermath, and then the one-shots. The first three are all on CWR’s site for download, and I have a doc of the one-shots I saved in The Before Times here. As for audio- Elementals released a recording for DCWT Ch 20 and Ch21! No official word on whether we’ll get the rest, but their website does say audio for Aftermath is coming so fingies and toes are crossed 😇

The OTHER new stuff CWR has been/is currently releasing is all in the Stargate universe - before writing in Pacific Rim, CWR originally started a triptych of Stargate fics: Force Over Distance (complete), Mathèmatique (WiP) and Ad Noctum (WiP). In the last few years, CWR has begun to rewrite FoD, and rework/add on to Maths and AdNo. 🥹 Likewise, Elementals has also been releasing new audio for these updated/new chapters, available on their website - AND the newest update this weekend is Elementals is maybe now allowing us access to in-progress audio 😱 go look at their site for details. It’s ridic.

Figuring out the order to read the Triptych is both straightforward and complicated - you should read FoD first, and then can read Maths and AdNo in any order after that… but should someone reading FoD for the first time start with the original complete FoD first and then the new WiP version of FoD for instance? Or just jump straight to the new versions? I wish I knew for certain pal - my gut though says start with the new versions on CWR’s website and if you’re fascinated and want to take the time to compare to the OGs then I have copies of them in my google drive for your perusal! That’s just me though - Anyone else out there have an opinion on whether newcomers to CWR’s Stargate triptych should read the originals first or start afresh?

Tangentially related to the DCWT side of the ask……… This ask actually sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole. And that rabbit hole is ‘what order do all the chapters of CWR’s Pacific Rim tale ACTUALLY take place in?’ And while part of me worries that reading them in chronological order would fundamentally mess with CWR’s intent (why do I get fractal vibes from stories within stories, drilling down and expanding on smaller and smaller sections? I could be reading into things…) I couldn’t help myself. And turns out untangling their order is mostly sort-of possible so I maybe put that list together below for anyone brave enough to attempt it lmao. Take the order with a grain of salt as some of these like The Twist of a Plot could maybe take place later or sooner than I’ve put them but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m running this post so what can ya do ya know?

CWR’s Pacific Rim media in Chronological Order, for funsies and for insomnia:

Epistolary Empiricism & Science Charm (OOMST) - In Medias Res (One Shots) - Aftermath 2015 Ch5 & Ch11 - Kingmaker & Lady Stardust (OOMST) - first 1/4 of The Blue Guitar (OOMST) - Aftermath 2015 Ch21, Ch26, Ch31, Aftermath 2017 Ch4, Ch10, Ch17, Ch34, Ch40, Ch46 - the rest of The Blue Guitar & The Crystal Lake (OOMST) - Aftermath 2020 Ch8, Ch12, Ch19, Ch24, Ch29 - Geneva 2020 (OOMST) - Aftermath 2020 Ch33, Ch43 - Failing the Solo Trial & Things Exactly As They Are (OOMST).

(Pacific Rim Film)

DCWT Ch1-9 - Aftermath 2025 Ch2, DCWT Ch10, Read Receipt (One shots) - Aftermath 2025 Ch15, DCWT Ch11-22, Under Pressure(One Shots), DCWT Ch23, Double De-Clutch (One shots) - DCWT Ch 24 - Ch28, Aftermath 2025 Ch25 & Ch48, Like the Twist of a Plot (One Shots), Aftermath 2027 Ch23, Ch27, Ch30, Ch35, Ch38, Ch42, Ch45, Aftermath 2028 Ch3, CH7, Ch16, Ch22, Ch37, Ch41, Ch49, Aftermath 2030 Ch1, Ch6, Ch9, Ch14, Ch2, Ch28, Ch32, Ch39, Ch44, Aftermath 2035 Ch50

Will I ever take the time to read these in order? Only time will tell, but researching all day sure made it feel like I already did 🙃

[patbwaifs]

"what are you doing"

if i can get into your head, maybe i can understand what his headspace was!

"i'm literally a fictional video game character"

shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up

------- there's a silver lining to everything yeah?

pros: mysterious and tragic backstory cons: i̵̢͎͚̘̫͇̓̒̋̚ ̵̢̪͚̻͕̀̈́̓͌͂̑͗̋w̶̧̠͔̦̘̘̅̽́̾̔̌͗̈ͅǫ̷̣̣̦̅̋̓̽͆͘̚͝u̵̫͚͍̤͂l̷̨̝̜͙͕̄̎̂͑d̴̦̓͆̌̓͒͝ ̸̼͈̙̭̖̩̦̰̿̓̽̓̕ḏ̸̠̰̹̭̭̩͕̽̂́̊̃̕̕ė̷̡̓s̷̼͚̔̐̍͊͝ṭ̶̡̧̞͈̠̞̐͒͆ŗ̵̛͕̼͔̑o̴̳̘̎̒̕͝y̴͍͕͆̅̈́͆̓̿͌͝ ̸̢̪̙͎̦̖̩̒͗͗͝ť̵̨̺̘̣̘̪̣̑̀ȟ̸͎͛͒͛͝e̴̛̖̮̘̎̈́̉̂̔͘ ̴̬̯̭̤̺̉͆̍̓͒̚ͅw̸̗͆̎̍̀ȍ̴̞̫̇r̶̼͙͂̄͜͝l̸͍̞̤͖͋͆ͅd̸͔͓͙̼̞̭͕͗̍̉̐͘͝ ̶̹͕͎̯̎́͊̓̍̕͠͝ͅţ̷̬̳̙͍̯̲͍̑o̶̥̳̒̂̈́̀ ̵͉́̄g̴̨͙̱͔̻̬͑̔̿͆́̾e̶͇̔͗͛͌͑̄̈́t̸̢̖̙̦̍͛͆̆͝ ̶̧̙̘̃̒́̏͂̂̏͝ý̵̨̡͍͉͔͉̦͙́o̵̞̗̩̬̯̥̤̾̈̅̽͂̇u̸͔̞̞̓̾ ̴̤͋̆̽̎͝b̴̪̮̯̝͉̈́̃̋̍̋̓̚͝a̶̡͙̠̣̻̼͖̾̉̍̈́̓c̶̺͙̤͍͕̆̅k̸̝̠̤̎́̓̏̎͝ͅ ̶̬͈̒̈̋̽͐̚͘b̷̛͎̣̝̘̐͂̇͑̈͝u̵͚̘̦̼̝̞̝͐͊͑͋̾ẗ̵̩̯̰̝̈́̏͛̓̾̎͠ͅ ̷̞̣̜͝ì̶̭̗̜̱̬͛̄̀̅͠ͅͅ ̴̢̺̮̠̼̭̈r̷̢͉̖̤͎̪̜͝ḙ̵̍͌̉̈́̋ṕ̴̤̺͕̻̬̲͙̤͛̓̀ȅ̵͓̗̲̠͕a̷̖̹͂͆̌̔́̀̄͝t̵̨͖̜̩̖͛͗̑̈̾̈́̈̚e̶͍̬͍̻̓d̵̬̜͙̩̤̰͉͖͑l̷̢̛̤̙͓̈́̄́͋̓̀͠ͅÿ̸̧̞͙͇̤͓̘̏̓̅̈́́͘͝ ̴̞͎͎͉̦̂̆p̶̯̐͂̔̎̒̚͠l̴͚̖̘̹̮̩̼͊̒̃͌̀̚͘͝e̷̩̰̰͛̿̎̽̓̋͆d̷̡͎̙͈͚̙̰͛͆͆̉g̶͍̬̈́̓͑͆̈̿͐é̵̞͇̤̖̲̲̩͗͑̓ͅ ̴̼͇̖͌͂̔̎͛͑m̷̫͔̘͓͇̪̋́̌͘͝ͅy̷͉̌͊͆̂͊̃̃ ̷̝̞͔̓̋̈̒̿̀l̴̛̋̂̀̍̀̾̿ͅo̵̮̙̜̐̈́̓v̴͇̳͎͎̼̎́͊̓ȩ̶̞̙̲̠͎̐̚ ̵̣̰͚̼̈́͗̾̂͛͛͠à̶̛̩̝͕̦̟͎̮̅͜n̴̗̅͐͛̓̍̏d̴̡͚̲̟̦͓̾̊̈͊́͆̋͂ͅ ̵̧͚̰̲͉͎̞̈́̓̏̆l̵̺̯̤̤̭̇ọ̵̘̱̣̍̓̆͑̒̒̚y̸̨̙͈̾͂͊̐̍̐̚͜a̵̡̛͕̰̜̟̦͐͘͝l̴̹̞̫̺̄t̵̼̓̀̏y̸̛͇̜̿̾̍̏̒̕ ̴̢̛̺͙͐̕͜͝t̸̥̐̊̔̒̂̇͘͘ǫ̷̬͖̝̫͙̓̓͊̑̒͜ͅ ̵̢̧̞̺̫͇͇̹̓̒̽͂̚͝H̷̛̹̭͒K̵̛͉̱̔̒͊̾̂̚͜B̵̺͒̈

on more art related things, i have some rules established in my head for Connor's face, and now I just have to practice and adjust. repetition!!!

i do have a number of projects I need to finish before I can give some attention to this, but I really like just sketchin it up and showing everyone.

----------- I'm okay. I think I've been reaching a point in my life where I can finally think and talk and discuss about what happened to my family in 2016. only took me *checks notes* 7 years. remarkable! or rather it's like... i can process what happened now or be destroyed by it again.

For context

tw for suicide mention .

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tumblr please let us have multiple page breaks Q_Q

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augh My younger brother took his own life in September 2016. The day before my birthday. In accordance to Jewish law, the body must be buried within 24 hours of the death, but HKB in His infinite wisdom and mercy delayed the funeral via some issue with the city and my family over the body. As a result, the funeral was the day after. Not to get all religious and Jewish out of nowhere...

I miss him every day. I have a ring I wear that has his name on it in Hebrew. (It's actually kind of stuck on there. I got some hefty fingies compared to the rest of my hands, haha)

I'm a low empathy person in general. But I wish I could empathize with my brother, somehow. And I have found such an avenue through Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife for a multitude of reasons, including the ending where Connor is all alone in front of the Android Revolution.

Connor is - a mediator between me and my brother. I'm sure my brother would have related a lot to the character if he were here. maybe. but i think there's similarity between the two, haha.

[eggs-can-draw]

hey egg *pointing my fingies together emoji* can you link the art you are most proud of that you posted to tumblr? i need it for something >:3

have a lovely rest of the day/week! :D

Uwuwuwuwuwuuuuhhhhh probably the first one on this post cause I really like the lighting n stuff

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Alright, excuse me Faye. How very dare you come for me on Thanksgiving?! The turkey is what’s supposed to be putting me in a coma, not the doctor!! 🥴 The board really should revoke his license if he goes around doing this to people! but I can’t say I didn’t like it 😏 Remember how this started as an absolute gag - a play on some joke about antiquated notions of female hysteria? And it was regency? And then you said stethoscopes weren’t invented yet, which prompted me to yeet the time period out the window and grant you all the creative license you wanted? I knew what I was doing. I knew this was the epitome of masochism. I knew that I was gathering the kindling for you to make the conflagration that would burn me alive. But I did it anyway. Because just the name, the very whisper of ‘Doctor Ben’ would do something to my insides that most assuredly would alarm the medical profession. And then you sprung him on me: the steth-draped first-year resident of my dreams, completing his sexual medicine rotation right in my drawers 🫠🥵 Call the attending and tell them my spontaneous corporeal liquefication is due to:

Okay, you set the stage to disarm by giving us sweet boifriend Benny boo. In his lil shorts, giving lil hugs, calling her a noodle and speaking his insightful truths. That kinky sadistic little shit is in there though, and how you demonstrate him balancing both so effortlessly and believably is just 🤌

And he already had a meal prepared, as if he knew she would need it. And of course it’s delicious, because he’s obnoxious like that 😩 The ease and comfort between the two of them is palpable. That will be important for trusting each other enough to….explore 😏

“I feel like I need to be one of those Regency ladies who is prescribed a trip to the seaside for my nerves, you know?” Bahahaaaaha, well hello Faye, nice to see you 😂

DORSET!! I mean, I knew the ‘toys’ would be his, but I still just love seeing him mentioned in fics 😊

“‘to alleviate the female hysterics’,” he chimes, affecting an old-timely announcer voice.” Why do I distinctly see him in the billiards scene waving his hand around in the air talking about Anthony ‘hurrying things along’? 😂  Same energy, same voice. You captured him!

OH GOD OH FUCK AND HERE HE IS - HE EMERGES!!! AND WHYYYYYYYY DID YOU ADD THE GLAASSSSSEEEESSSSS??????? 🤯😫😫😫🥵🥵 You didn’t just want to immolate me, you wanted to destroy me! Grind my bones into dust when the rest of me had melted away…. You wanted to atomize me!!! YOU CHOSE VIOLEEEENNNNCCCEEEEE. *phew* 😮‍💨 Okay, okay. I’m fine…I’m cool…. It’s just a pair of glasses and a stethoscope. I’m gonna be fine… *continues to whimper*

Grrrrrrrrrrr. Straight for the gloves and fingies…you know my buttons 🫠 Hell yeah I’d suck that probing thumb, I don’t have a latex allergy. I’d hoover the fucking thing off of him then get to demonstrating for my doctor how my gag reflex is gone. I mean….what? Who said that?!?! 👀 Then he just yanks her into a filthy kiss oh my ggawwwwwddddd 😵 oral exam passed indeed

Ehhhhhgeeeeebbbeeeeeee I dont even know if I can form words about this anymore… you may just get the sounds I burble in reaction. And the sound for growling, commanding breathplay appears to be ‘ehgeebee’ 🙃🥵 I just…you’re like…real good at describing the sensations. What’s cool, what’s hot, what’s shocking, what’s sensual. It’s a whole fireworks show over here and we haven’t even GOTTEN to the downstairs business!! BENACE HOW DO YOU DO THIS?!?! “You hold your breath until I say you can release,” *Eleanor holds breath until end of time because Benedict isn’t actually real. Has zero regrets*

Oh no….oh no….scruff of the neck like a hungry tiger and ready to throw her down onto the damn couch if she doesn’t follow orders 🫣🤤 Tiger Country indeed 😉 Doctor Ben Daddy Sir, I’m sorry. I’ll do as I’m told! not

And now we come to it 🥁 putting me to the test indeed… a gloved, cardiophilic tease. A worship of the body inside and out. Manipulations…responses…delayed gratification. The playful power dynamic…the just….UGGGGGHHHHH EVERYTHIINNNNGGGGGGG 🥵🥵🥵

“He menaces. “I will just edge you all night and listen to your heart thumping so hard for me it sounds like it wants to break out from under your ribs.”” ☠☠☠☠⚰⚰⚰ And that was the last thing Eleanor read before redefining Black Friday by blacking out in the powder room while hiding from holiday guests. They carried on, full of cranberries and tryptophan, blissfully unaware of her absence for the 73 minutes it took for her to regain consciousness and peel herself up off the tile. The puddle of drool she found herself in proved useful in smoothing her disheveled hair, but the glazed look in her eyes for the rest of the night was thick enough to rival Aunt Carol’s (in)famous glazed carrots. No one in the household knew what happened that day, but Eleanor knew - she walked out of her in-laws’ house having left behind one of her lives like a cat. A life where that phrase, Benace’s seductively promising growl, didn’t taunt her every night before sleep. But that was a life she was willing to leave behind. A little death she was willing to have 😉 if it meant she could hear this from him.

 AND THEN HE MAKES HER LISTEN!?!??!?! 🩺😵☠☠☠

Eleanor blacked out again soon after, on the ride home over the river and through the woods. Assuming she had imbibed too much liquid courage to combat Uncle Chris’ political rants, or maybe had one too many of Nana’s obscenely liquored rum balls, Mr. B drove on, none the wiser to the lascivious scenes playing out in her smut-addled brain.

*claws self across floor to Faye, rasping* Faye…please…..you can’t talk about his veins during this too. You just can’t…. 😫 I wont make it…😭 I want to see Season 3 🙏🙏

*trembling, clinging to the last vestiges of sanity and consciousness, I peer out to find we’ve cleared the crescendo* 🫣🫣🫣 It’s too perfect. How wistful he is about listening to her 😌 Dazed and sotto voce. That reverence is so much a part of the appeal. The inherent intimacy of cardiophilia. A whole other level of romance 🥹💖 Of course Ben understands and expresses it.

“You will need to see me morning and night for at least a month until I can properly assess whether the treatment plan is effective.” Saucy, sassy Benace at his best 😏 Sign me up for that prescription, YES PLEASE

Then he’s issuing orders again, simmering the already liquefied 🫠🫠 And the cheeky bastard has kept nothing between them this whole time but a pilfered cloak of authority. Kinky little whore 😜

I….I don’t know how she has the energy for dose number two, because I hardly have the energy to breathe or think. As always, you took a prompt and enhanced it with surgical precision. You took the playful and catalyzed it into the lethal. You unleashed Doctor Ben upon us, perhaps to soothe what ails us, but what you actually did was start a Benepidemic of thirst. And I was patient zero. ☠

Doctor’s Orders

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Someone decides to play doctor to ameliorate your bad day…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, doctor/patient roleplay, dom/sub tones, ‘medical examination’ with use of stethoscope and latex gloves, voluntary breathplay, cardiophilia, vaginal fingering, edging.

Word Count: 4.5 k

Authors Note: this is a long-awaited (9 months!) request fill for the lovely @eleanor-bradstreet. My dear, I hope this is somewhat worth the wait. To anyone medically trained, yes, I know what he does is wrong/inaccurate, but that’s the whole point: he’s a somewhat clueless but enthusiastic roleplaying boy, not a real doctor. Thank you to @colettebronte for the read-through and suggestions. Enjoy! <3

It’s been one of those spectacularly shit days at work. When you get to your boyfriend’s flat, all you want to do is shower, crash out and watch brainless TV together.

“Bad day?” Benedict intuits, wandering over from the kitchen, casual in shorts and a t-shirt, as you drop your bag like a tonne of bricks near his front door and pout.

“Hate my job,” you whine, burying your head into his shoulder as he chuckles affectionately, pulling you into his arms and busses a kiss onto your temple.

“No, you don’t; you love your job. You just didn’t love it today,” he smiles into your hair.

“Urgh, fine, yes, Mr EQ, yes, that's true,” you huff his neck, enjoying his clean scent.

“Come with me, my stressed-out noodle,” he offers good-naturedly, withdrawing from the embrace and lacing your fingers with his. He backs up, pulling you along with him further into the flat.

“Where are we going?” you pout again.

“To eat, I made us dinner,” he smiles, something melting in your chest at the sweet gesture. 

“Do I have time to shower first?” you ask, wanting to remove all physical traces of this workday from your skin.

“Of course, be my guest,” he nods towards his room, with the en suite bathroom beyond, and you drop a kiss on his cheek as you go.

—

Fifteen minutes later, you emerge freshly showered and wearing some of his clothes- a t-shirt that swamps you and jogging bottoms you have to roll up at the waist. You take a seat at the kitchen island and tuck into the amazing-smelling food he has laid out, even giving you a comedic bow as you reenter the room.

The food tastes like heaven, and you can't stop the appreciative moans at the flavour explosion on your tongue.

“Fuck Ben, this is delicious,” you assert as you swallow the mouthful.

His face lights up with that beguiling smile that hooked you in the first place all those months ago, and you can't help but lean in and give him a quick peck.

“So do you want to talk about the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? Or is this more of a big glass of wine and stfu sort of deal?“ he hedges amiably, assessing your needs.

You sigh as you finish your next bite. “Honestly? I don't know. I’m so stressed about it all I sort of don’t want to talk about it. I feel like I need to be one of those Regency ladies who is prescribed a trip to the seaside for my nerves, you know?” you jest, circling your empty fork in the air to highlight your point.

He barks a laugh. “Funny you should say that; I was just reading a book about hilarious historical cures.”

“Yeah…?” your interest piqued.

“Dorset left it out,” he explains, referring to his roommate, a junior doctor at Guys Hospital. “It's hilarious. But I don't think they would diagnose you with a trip to the seaside, at least not based on what I’ve read.”

You swivel on your stool to face him. “Oh no? Then what would I have been prescribed, Dr Bridgerton?” you jest, leaning your chin on your hand and arching a challenging brow. But you don't miss how his pupils dilate a fraction as you address him such.

He turns towards you with a laconic smile. “You likely would have been prescribed a course of pelvic stimulations.”

You are glad you hadn't taken another bite of dinner, as you would have sprayed him with food with that spit take.

“What?!? No!” you laugh incredulously.

“Don't believe me? Go look,” he challenges, gesturing to the book on the coffee table.

“So… Is that what I think it is? Women would literally be told, medically, to masturbate?” you giggle, disbelieving.

“Oh no,” he corrects. “You wouldn't do it; the doctor would.”

“What the…??”

“Yup… ‘to alleviate the female hysterics’,” he chimes, affecting an old-timely announcer voice.

“With what?” you ponder aloud, still utterly perplexed.

“Hands, I would assume,” he breezes. “Why? Would you like a helping hand?” he winks, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

“I mean….” you trail off, still laughing but feeling a tiny buzz between your legs at the idea. “I'm not going to say no… Doctor Bridgerton,” you banter back.

Benedict puts down his fork, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows his bite of food and turns slowly towards you, an enigmatic glint in his eye.

“Well, now, you will need a thorough medical examination before I can determine if such a prescription is even the correct one,” he throws out, still with a jovial air, but the dropped octave is decidedly suggestive.

“How long until I can get an appointment?” you shoot back, feeling the atmosphere in the room shift, the dynamic between you playful but with a definite undercurrent of heat now.

“The doctor is always in… for you,” he answers, a hand landing heavily on your knee. “If you are ready, please go wait in the exam room,” Benedict responds, signalling to the sofa, that hand squeezing slightly. “The doctor can be right with you.”

You giggle and shoot him a ‘Are we really doing this?’ look. When he nods, you wiggle off the stool and drift over to the sectional as he disappears down the hallway, your half-eaten dinners now very much abandoned. Little butterflies in your stomach as you perch, eagerly awaiting his return.

When he re-enters the room, you almost forget how to breathe. He has obviously raided his flatmate's room and come out wearing a white doctor’s overcoat, his shapely calves bare beneath the hem, a stethoscope slung casually around his shoulders. He has also dug out his reading glasses to complete the look. He is so utterly convincing you don't know what to think, except…. Oh fuck yes.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/l/n,” he greets, stepping effortlessly into the roleplay. “I'm Dr Bridgerton. Tell me, what ails you today?” 

He sits on the coffee table right in front of you, looking at you expectantly for your response.

“Hello, doctor,” you begin, stilted, still a little discombobulated by his appearance and how utterly aroused you are by it. “I… I am overworked in my job and don't know the best way to relieve the stress I feel….” 

“Well, I am sorry to hear that. Let us do a basic examination so I can rule out any possible physical ailments and go from there.” Before you can respond, he produces disposable gloves from his overcoat pocket and snaps them on, your tummy fluttering at the sight of them pulling taunt around his long fingers. 

Oh, he means it.

He leans in, his hands cupping your jaw, warm even through the latex. You whimper quietly, realising he is pretending to feel the lymph nodes beneath your ear for swelling. But he doesn't let go; he just stares you down, his eyes glittering in the lamp glow. 

“Say ahhh,” he prompts.

You open your mouth instinctively, just like at the doctor’s. He pivots a hand so his thumb gently presses down on your tongue as he peers into your mouth.

“Hmm, I see no evidence of an oral infection. But I should check via other means too, to be thorough,” he murmurs, pupils dilating as you cheekily close your lips around his thumb and suck on it suggestively. The powdery flavour on the glove somehow just heightens the heat you feel spreading inside.

“Behave please, Miss,” he rebukes, but his actions say otherwise - extracting his thumb and trailing your saliva in a line down over your chin, your neck, resting it in your suprasternal notch as his fingers curl around your neck and tug you towards him.

His kiss is deep and breathtaking. His tongue unfurls into your mouth and probes yours as if this, too, is a thorough examination. You follow his lead, letting him dictate the terms, wanting to follow wherever he is going with this.

“I think we can rule out anything in your mouth being the problem,” he opines drolly over your lips. 

“Thank you, doctor,” you respond coquettish.

“Let me listen to your lungs to ensure there are no respiratory problems. Remove your clothing, please,” he orders brusquely, sitting back.

“All of it?” you inhale sharply.

“I suppose just your top for now,” he revises, looking a tad impatient.

When you whip off the top to reveal you are without a bra, his eyes flash, and the tip of his tongue pokes out as your nipples pebble in the cool air of the room. A wave of something behind your ribs as he unfurls the stethoscope from around his neck and places it in his ears.

“Please keep your hands at your sides at all times. And beware, this may be cold,” he warns.

You squeak as the cool metal is placed onto the flesh above your left breast, your hands curling around the sofa edge by your thighs so you keep them as told.

“Breath in deeply for me,” he instructs, and you do, taking a deep inhale, feeling your body bloom with his proximity as his face squints in concentration. When he doesn't say exhale, you hold, unsure what else to do, your lungs feeling tight. It seems much longer than necessary. “And out”

He drags the bell over your sternum to the same spot on the right side. 

“Again” he orders. You follow the instructions, taking a deep breath. “Hold it,” he alerts, as you start to feel the struggle for air. You do his bidding, feeling that trademark ache under your ribs under the exertion. “And release,” he instructs just as you want to disobey.

“Good,” he rumbles, “just one more.”

You pant lightly as he drags the scope down between your breasts, then jump as he presses it low into the sensitive spot where your ribs meet on your diaphragm. 

“In and hold.”

As you do, he tilts forward and suddenly seizes a nipple between his teeth. You make a strangled noise in your closed mouth, a zipping thrill right down to your clit. The surprise makes air escape out your nose, fingers grasping the cushion.

“No,” he gruffs into your breast, not looking up at you. “I told you to hold. You hold your breath until I say you can release,” he lectures. “Now breath in and hold it,” his voice taking on a steely edge that makes your pussy constrict.

Wordlessly, you do as told, and this time, he swaps to your other nipple, biting down, then lathing with his hot tongue as you struggle—tight lungs, intense pressure behind your cheeks. The thronging pleasure around where he teases you makes it an almost impossible task; starting to struggle a little, your body twitching, fingers and toes flexing.

“Let it out,” he permits, and you open your mouth, the air escaping in a loud ‘pahhhh’ sound.

“Well, I think your lungs sound very healthy,” he breezes nonchalantly as if this is just how a doctor does an exam.

“That’s good,” you defer to his faux expertise even as you feel his saliva drying on your areola. 

“Now, let's test your heart,” he proceeds, pulling the stethoscope from his ears so it rests around his neck. “Remove the rest of your clothing now, please, Miss.”

“Is that strictly necessary, doctor? Just to listen to my heart?” you waver, even as your hands go to the ties at your waistband.

“I am the doctor here, am I not?” he counters, raising a brow.

“Yes,” you demure, a pulse around your clit at how thoroughly he inhabits this role.

“You may find it easier to stand,” he chuckles as he watches you shuffling, struggling to remove your bottoms while seated. 

So you do as he suggests, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin around your belly button as you push the loose jersey material over the swell of your hips. He growls at the other surprise lurking—you wear no underwear, your bare slit inches from his face as the clothing pools around your feet, now utterly naked.

“Is this okay, doctor?” you simper, looking down at him sitting on the coffee table as he finally tilts his head to look at your face.

“Lay down on the exam table,” he commands, his pointer finger jabbing towards the chaise.

“Make me…”

Your tongue rebels before your brain can engage, wanting to see how much he will take control if you act out. He springs to his feet, towering over you, inches from you, and grasps the nape of your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Are you questioning my methods?” he interrogates, his hold strong but not hurting.

Oh, yes, Benedict, well done.

“No, Doctor,” you simper, attempting to look innocent but knowing your eyes must be fully dilated by now, distracted by the pulse you see in his throat.

“I need to be very thorough before I can diagnose you accurately, Miss,” he cautions. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, doctor.” 

“Good. Now lay down,” he instructs brusquely, releasing his grip.

You drop to the sofa and lay out for him, a thrill zipping over your skin. He places a large cushion beneath your neck and head so you are tilted up and can see down the plain of your naked body.

“Now be very still and be very quiet. Keep your hands at your sides. Whatever I do to you is to ensure your heart is healthy. Do you understand me?” he tutors, his eyes roaming your body covetously.

“Yes, doctor,” you confirm, knowing your chest is rising and falling rapidly, the anticipation burning in your being.

He places the stethoscope directly over your heart and loops it back into his ears, the cool metal now a balm against your flushed skin.

“You have a good strong heartbeat,” he states casually, “But it is a little slow for my liking….”

His gloved hand loops around the leg closest to him and hauls it wide into his lap, your knee brushing a prominent bulge under the overcoat that makes your insides clench at the very thought of his cock.

“Stay still.” 

His clipped reminder is delivered as he trails his fingertips along your inner thigh, his other hand still holding the stethoscope against your chest. Your breath stutters as his latex-covered fingers nudge your folds, already weeping.

“Well, I see there is certainly no problem with your ability to get aroused,” he intones smokily with a tantalising brush over your clit. 

His moves are unrushed, his touch maddeningly light, not nearly enough, barely a glance over your soaked flesh, making you ache for more. After a few moments, you whine and defiantly attempt to push into his touch.

“Did I not tell you to be still and quiet?” he arches an eyebrow, and you pout but still yourself and fold your lips inwards under your teeth. “That’s better. Now let's see what happens when I….”

He expertly plunges two long fingers into your pussy, your arousal leaking over his gloves as he does so. He hisses his approval at your heated cling, pushing deep as you swallow your gasp, biting your lip to prevent any more sound from escaping. His fingers hook, and his wrist twists in slow corkscrew turns, dragging thoroughly over your walls as if giving you an internal exam. You crave more: more fingers, movement, friction, more of anything, your fingernails scratching against the fibres of the sofa, keeping them at your sides as told, even as you itch to grab his wrist and direct his motions.

“Interesting,” he mutters, his fingers swirling slowly, probing inside as he drags the scope fractionally on your sternum.

You utter a silent curse, your body already quivering. The room filled only with the sound of your ragged breathing and the sodden noise from between your legs as he leisurely rocks his gloved fingers into and out of your pussy, you suctioning around his knuckles, the stretch with each stroke making you want to beg for him to make you come.

“Your heart is definitely strong,” he declares, “but I think we need to put it to the test properly.”

His thumb presses onto your clit, and it's like a lightning bolt through your being. Something about the fact it's not his skin on yours lends an extra frisson. You can feel the warmth of his pad behind the latex barrier as he flicks against your swollen nub.

“More, please, Doctor Bridgerton, please,” you entreat desperately, attempting to tilt your pelvis to ride his hand.

He groans at your use of his name, not chastising you for vocalising. His rigid cock brushes your knee held in his lap as he surges his hips fractionally, your legs spread obscenely wide as he finger fucks you, his stethoscope leaving a circular imprint on your chest, almost bearing his weight into your skin. God help you both if his flatmate cuts his night shift short.

“Your bpm is rising,” he reports as his fingers move faster, wringing filthy noises from your body now, pushing harder with every stroke, his thumb circling your clit with unerring pressure. You just moan a litany of ‘Dr Ben’, and ‘yes’ and ‘please don’t stop’ as you spiral higher.

“That's it, yes, that's what I like to hear,” he encourages, “it's like music.” 

Even you can tell your heart is thumping now, hearing it loud in your own ears as the blood rushes to your head. Just as you are about to crest, he suddenly stops his ministrations and withdraws his fingers. You cry out as he rests the soaked glove on your lower belly, pressing down softly from the outside on that spot that aches for more, your own juices dripping down between your bum cheeks.

“Shhh shh,” he pacifies, the scope he still holds with his other hand feeling heavy on your flesh as his prideful gaze travels up your panting body, gleeful at his ability to do this to you. 

You plead with your eyes as his eyes finally reach your face, silently asking him to finish.

“Wonderful, your heartbeat is so strong in my ears,” he sounds almost wistful, dreamy. 

Your breathing slows, even as you feel the burn of an orgasm so denied, your pelvis throning, your clit painfully engorged.

“Hmm, let’s go again, shall we?” he smirks.

That’s all the warning you get before he plunges his fingers back inside, this time using three, the latex glove squeaking slightly around his palm. You scream and cant your body up off the sofa to the point he briefly lets go of the scope; his glove presses down on your diaphragm, forcing you back flat so you cannot ride his fingers like you want to.

“Please, doctor…” you beseech, voice reedy and wanton, uncaring about anything but being hurled over that divine edge.

“The more you ask, the less I am inclined to deliver,” he menaces. “I will just edge you all night and listen to your heart thumping so hard for me it sounds like it wants to break out from under your ribs.” he jerks the scope pointedly over your breastbone. 

You close your eyes and bite your lip, resigning yourself to obey. That he might keep you on edge for so long, you cannot bear—you need to come like you need air.

His handsome face is smug as he once again probes your body from inside, almost experimenting based on the tiny whimpers you make. He jabs a spot that makes your entire body spasm, and a crooked, dangerous smile spreads over his features.

“Oh, look what we have found,” his chest resonant with pitch, the tone dark and sweet.

Once again, you beg silently, but he indulges in the tease. Tapping gently on the spot rather than rocking into it, a slow, gentle touch that makes every nerve jangle, like an itch you cannot scratch hard enough.

“I love to see you like this,” he admits breathily as he keeps us at that vexing pace. “So strung out and desperate to come. You would do anything I told you to right now, wouldn't you? If I just promised to let you over the edge.”

You are nodding vigorously before he even finishes his sentence, his triumphant expression almost galling if not for the desire writ large on his face.

“Good,” he snarls and starts to jab on that same spot. Desire roars fire in your veins, and you scream, your body trembling. He leans over and captures one of your nipples in his wet, warm mouth, and you scream again, uncaring what any of his neighbours may think.

You are dangling on the edge, reality bleeding into pleasure when once again he stops, and the noise that escapes your lungs is feral—a wretched groaning wail as an inferno licks around every edge of your being.

“Listen,” he growls, roughly yanking the tubes from his ear and placing them over yours. The noise is almost deafening, a thumping rhythm so fast it is virtually interpolating and looping upon itself. It's fascinating and life-affirming even as your body cries out, your clit pulsing in tempo with the thrumming beat. Greedily, he grabs them back and places them over his ears again, moving the bell to the right, his breath gusting hard.

“Touch yourself,” he orders gruffly.

It doesn't take moments for your hand to slide between your legs and catch your clit, a hardened, searing nub so wet you can hardly find grip and so distended it doesn't even feel like your body.

He leans possessively over you, a vein in his neck pulsing as he listens intently, his eyes pinging between your face, the scope on your naked chest and your hand between your legs, rubbing vigorously.

When his fingers sink back inside you, your knuckles cradled in his palm as you strum your clit, it hurtles you instantly over. You grasp his bicep as you crest the wave, your whole body held taught then snapping, shuddering and pulsing forcefully around his fingers as you tumble down that abyss, his stethoscope almost bruising your breastbone as you writhe, him singing your praises. You don't recall the next few moments, floating far away as everything is fuzzy, as if behind a gauzy filter. 

“Oh, that was perfect,” he attests sotto voce as you return to yourself, shaking with tony aftershocks. “You should hear how alive your body sounds when you come like that. Fuck that was amazing…” he seems almost dazed, his fingers dormant inside you.

As he withdraws from you, you emit a mewl, overwrought and shaking from the intensity. 

“Well, Miss,” he begins, slipping back into his roleplay. “I can say without a doubt you are very healthy, so no concern there. I can also tell your stress level is much lower now. Thus, I shall be prescribing you a minimum of two orgasms a day. Purely for your health, you understand,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, doctor,” you nod drowsily, slurring slightly. “Should I administer them mysel…?”

“No,” he cuts in. “I'm afraid it requires a medical professional such as myself to ensure correct dosage,” his tone gravelly, snapping off the gloves from his hands, balling them up and tossing them aside. “You will need to see me morning and night for at least a month until I can properly assess whether the treatment plan is effective.”

“Yes, Doctor Bridgerton,” you purr sibilant, too strung out to do anything but languidly agree to everything he says.

As you go to close your legs, he grabs your kneecap, preventing you.

“Oh no, we are not done here,” he intones with a tinge of menace.

“No?” you stutter.

“No, I need to be very thorough,” he counters, his voice rich like velvet. His bare fingers trail ticklish patterns over the crease of your knee as he smiles perilously, enjoying keeping you on tenterhooks. “I am nowhere near done with your treatment for the day. You have only had one climax, and I do believe I said you need a minimum of two per day," he reminds you, his stare blistering. 

You watch, almost stupified, as he removes the stethoscope and swivels to kneel between your legs, grabbing them and pushing them high and wide apart, the burning stretch along your inner thighs making you gasp.

“Now, are you going to do exactly what your doctor tells you to do this time?” he grills, his fingers digging into your flesh, his gaze intense.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Good,” the word resonates through his being as his hungry stare slips over your body, down between your legs. “Now I think you need something more substantial than fingers, don't you?” he smirks playfully.

“Please, yes, please, Doctor Bridgerton,” you implore, canting your breasts up towards him, your eyes covetously sliding down his body as he hovers over you. Your breath quickens when you see the clear outline of his cock bulging against the overcoat. Oh god, is he naked under there? The thought makes you clench again.

You raise your hands and tug at the collar of his overcoat until the first popper opens, revealing his constellation of freckles. When he doesn't stop you, emboldened, you pull again, each popper relenting, a larger slice of his naked torso revealed with each ping. By the time you are down to the last two, you see the trail of hair from beneath his belly button and moan.

“You have been naked this whole time, doctor?!” your voice hitching almost scratchy.

He grabs your hand away, pressing it into the cushion above your head as he bears you into the sofa with his weight, one of that last fastened poppers snagging cold metal against your swollen clit.

“I cannot ask my patients to be naked if I am not as well, surely?” he rumbles, hot in your ear, his warm chest covering yours. He grabs your other wrist and guides it to the same place. “Now, hold onto the cushion under your head and don't move your hands until I say so,” he orders, his smoulder turning lethal as you do as told. 

He pulls up slightly and yanks the rest of the coat open, throwing it aside, giving you only a fleeting glance before surging his leaking, heated cock right over your slit.

“God, Ben, fuck me,” your errant internal monologue slips from your tongue before you can stop it.

“Who is Ben?” he quips duskily, rocking in a distracting manner, his tip glancing into your folds. “There is only Doctor Bridgerton here tonight.”

“Doctor Bridgerton,” you amend, fingers curling into the seam of the throw cushion, fighting the urge to grab him, “please fuck me.” 

He smiles triumphantly and lowers himself over you so you are swamped by him. 

“Well, as you asked so nicely…” 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

Dividers credit: @/firefly-graphics

[pinkseas]

[parasocial bestie] GOOD MORNING ALY WHAT THE FUUCKKK K KK KKKKKK YOURE ON FIREEEEEEE RN IM SO PROUD OF YEW youre doing so great 💕💗💕💖💞💓💞💖💞💞💓💞💖💞💗💞💞💖💞💗💞💕💖💞💗💞💖💞💕💓💕💖💕💓💕💓💕💕💓💞💗💞💞💖💞💖💞 CHEERING U ON FOR THE REMAINING 5K ILYSM MASSAGING UR FINGIES FOR UR NEXT WWE BATTLE WITH GDOC HOLDS UR HANDS KISSES THEM UEUEUEUEUEUE 💪💪💪💪💪💪

HESHAEHSAHEHHEASHESAHEHSAHEHSAEHSAHEASHEASH GOOD MORNINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG I HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD NIGHT AND THAT YOUR DAY WAS WONDERFUL BESTIE <3333333 THANK UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💞💞💓💞💖💞💗💞💞💖💞💗💞💕💖💞💗💞💖💞💕💓💕💖💕💓💕💓💕💕💓💞💗💞💞💖💞💖 my hands r being Held and Kissed i am Blushing................. holding UR hands kissing ur cheeks THANK U THANK U THANK UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

the scene i just finished was so sorely needed except i am NAWT very confident in the way i wrote a specific character bc i know So Little abt them i feel like but also i can hear everything in their voice so ???? maybe. Maybe. anyways first draft finished SOON and after that editing is soooooo easy and fun and by that i mean i Won't Actually Do Too Much Editing bc i struggle finding ways to fix my own bullshit and i refuse to ask anyone to beta a fuckifngnfg 40k+ fic so its just me and my severely limited ability to fix the multiple wrongs in this thing against the world 💪💪💪 it will be so flawed and yet So Loved and so COMPLETE fr i am going to finish this thing fucking asap and then i will REST. finally................... Finally I Will Rest.

[writing-gifts]

i want that time lord bundle so bad

i wanna unlock more stuff with cole and see the last 3 dudes

[heylinfanclub]

Shape shapes shapes

[ontheticktick]

@gobubyourself

Wade was able to dodge out of the way of Wolvie's claws with relative ease. "Still fighting like you're hungover, Peanut! Too bad there's no hair of the HONEY BADGER, huh?!" He tucked and rolled out of the way of a final claw strike.

If there was one thing that RAGE AND STRESS were good for, it was for allowing Wade to actually NARROW HIS FOCUS. The opposite was true for most SANE INDIVIDUALS, but he had always treated most of life as though it were just ONE BIG COSMIC FUCKING JOKE. Even under the most trying and infuriating of circumstances, he was mostly always capable of making enough GALLOWS HUMOR work to keep him pressing forward. That wasn't his GENUINE ANGER.

It was when he was well and truly PISSED that he focused up. The third degree to that was when he would STOP SPEAKING, at which point, whatever poor MOTHERFUCKER was in his path had better have their WILL WRITTEN.

So at this point, Logan was at a 2 out of 3 on the PRICK-TER SCALE, and Wade's still-healing CLAW WOUNDS had nothing to do with it. Unbridled physical violence was one of his LOVE LANGUAGES. No...It was the fact that Logan was WALKING AWAY from Wade. He was refusing to help save an entire UNIVERSE full of lives. After said universe had already lost HALF OF ITS POPULATION. He had the FUCKING B A L L S to say that WASN'T HIS PROBLEM, as though a universe-wide genocide was just FINE.

At this point, he had his guns in his hands, at the ready...but he didn't fire just yet. He remembered the many times that he had been told by Steve Rogers himself that he needed to try using TACT. Wade was just desperate enough to TRY IT. So, he holstered his guns with a groan and ran after Logan, passing by a LOGO along the way. He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Rest in pieces, Fox." He hurried further to catch up. "I don’t want to fight you, Peanut. Alright? Doesn’t matter what you did. I just need your help." He had stopped in front of Logan, only for the X-Man to move past him. At which point, tact went out the window.

"Fine..." He withdrew his guns one more, coming up behind Logan and firing a MULTITUDE OF BULLETS into the other man's ribcage-

[HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY, HOLD ON, TIME OUT!] [A NOTE FROM DEADPOOL] : DP HERE. NO NOT THAT KIND. I CAN PROMISE YOU THAT THIS ENTIRE MOVIE, BUT ESPECIALLY THE FIGHT SCENES, ARE MUCH MORE SEXUALLY CHARGED THAN ANY MEASURE OF PENETRATION. I WOULDN'T MIND THE VIOLENCE OR SEXUAL TENSION, OF COURSE, I JUST DON'T WANT TO SPOIL EVERYTHING FOR YOU, YOU DIRTY-BIRDY. SAVE YOUR SPECIAL SOCKS FOR THE FEATURE-LENGTH FILM. OKAY, SHAMELESS PLUG OVER. BLAH BLAH BLAH, WADE AND LOGAN KILL THE SHIT OUT OF EACH OTHER ROMANTICALLY FOR A FEW MINUTES, WADE ENDS UP ON THE BUSINESS END OF THE FINGY-KNIVES WITH LOGAN THREATENING TO DECAPITATE HIM.

"WAIT, I can fix it! I can fix it!" Wade's hands flailed a bit in front of him. "Whatever it is that you did. Whatever made you so bad. Those…freaks at the TVA, you heard them." The Merc's voice was dropping quieter, as his hands also begun to fall slowly away from the front of his face.

"They have the power to END my universe. But they also have the power to CHANGE yours. We find Anya, we get back there...and we can fix your world. TOGETHER. I promise…They can fix it."

logan  had  had  ENOUGH  with  this  guy  and  the  mess  his  had  dragged  him  into.  he  had  been  minding  his  own  fucking  business  before  this  guy  showed  up , and  now  he  was  stuck  in  soem  sort  of  wasteland ... and  somehow  being  SHAMED  for  the  state  this  guy  had  found  him  in.  as  if  he  had  the  first  fucking  clue  what  he  had  been  through  leading  him  up  to  the  day  when  wade  and  anya  found  him  in  the  bar.

it  at  least  explained  his  reasoning  for  angrily  throwing  wade  in  a  fit  of  rage , right  into  a  stone  wall.  if  anything ... it  made  him  feel  a  little  bit  better.  that  would  be  short  lived  though  as  wade  was  right  back  at  it  with  complaining  about  all  the  problems  he  had.  problems  he  would  have  had  with  ot  without  him.  once  again ... none  of  this  was  his  FUCKING  problem.

"  i  should  be  thanking  YOU ?  "    it  was  clear  in  logan's  eyes  that  he  was  furious.  he  really  had  the  balls  to  say  that  logan  should  actually  be  THANKING  HIM  for  the  shit  show  that  they  found  themselves  in?!  at  this  point ... while  he  had  questions  as  to  how  that  chick  could  have  possibly  wound  up  with  someone  like  him ... he  was  too  incredulous  to  even  think  about  that  right  now.

the  claws  were  still  out.  and  he  went  so  far  as  to  bare  his  teeth  as  he  began  charging  back  toward  wade.  if  anything , he  was  going  to  get  more  hits  in  on  the  guy.    "  whatever  shit , you  got  yourself  and  that  sorry  bitch  into ... that  shit's  on  YOU.  "    as  he  spoke , he  was  anything  but  kind.  after  a  short  pause , he  shook  his  head.    "  it's  not  my  fuckin  problem.  "    he  spat  back  before  turning  to  go.

[sibyl-of-space]

I have some extremely juicy news about Twitter I’d like to share here for those unaware, because it actually has kind of huge implications for account security/data privacy in general.

TL;DR: Twitter asked users for phone numbers/e-mail under the false pretense of requiring them to secure accounts (MFA) and then used that personally-identifying data to profit from advertisers. The Federal Trade Commission ordered them to pay a $150M penalty and MORE IMPORTANTLY they are forced to allow other means (security key, MFA app) and *NOT* phone numbers to meet that security need. TWITTER IS DOING ITS BEST NOT TO ADVERTISE JUST HOW MUCH THEY LOST AND WHAT A GREAT PRECEDENT THIS IS FOR THE REST OF US.

Details follow.

This morning I logged on to Twitter and saw a huge banner about how Twitter cares about your privacy that led to an article that more or less read “oopsies, we may have accidentally asked people for their phone numbers for privacy, and wow! our fingies slipped and we made a teensie widdle boo-boo and profited off of that data.” This article pissed me the fuck off, but it vaguely mentioned a settlement with the Federal Trade Commission. I looked that up because I wanted to see what kind of slap on the wrist they got for this BS.

AND. GREAT NEWS, EVERYONE. THESE MOTHERFUCKERS HAVE FACED SOMETHING THAT MIGHT ACTUALLY BE A CONSEQUENCE.

Article here: https://www.ftc.gov/news-events/news/press-releases/2022/05/ftc-charges-twitter-deceptively-using-account-security-data-sell-targeted-ads

Now there’s a lot in there but, quoting directly, in addition to paying $150M, the settlement must:

prohibit Twitter from profiting from deceptively collected data;

allow users to use other multi-factor authentication methods such as mobile authentication apps or security keys that do not require users to provide their telephone numbers;

notify users that it misused phone numbers and email addresses collected for account security to also target ads to them and provide information about Twitter’s privacy and security controls;

implement and maintain a comprehensive privacy and information security program that requires the company, among other things, to examine and address the potential privacy and security risks of new products;

limit employee access to users’ personal data; and

notify the FTC if the company experiences a data breach.

ITEMS 2 AND 3 (bolded) ARE OF KEY INTEREST HERE.

Bullet point 2 means the app CANNOT force you to disclose your phone number under the pretense of “security.” If you, as I was a couple years ago, are forced to provide additional information to protect your account (some accounts I care deeply about protecting with MFA. Twitter isn’t one of them. Furthermore, providing this phone number DID NOT EVEN FORCE 2FA, so I already had a hunch it was fishy) you now have the option to remove your phone number completely and supply a security key or MFA app instead.

The company has proven it cannot be trusted with your personal information. This isn’t surprising but it’s now concrete. So do not give it to them.

(If you have an iOS device I recommend OTP Authenticator, has a very good track record for not tracking you like some others might - looking at Microsoft Authenticator - doing just what it needs to and doing it securely.)

Bullet point 3 is the reason I got that half-assed banner on Twitter. They were forced to notify users of the misuse and of the new non-personally-identifying security methods, so they made a banner vaguely mentioning the FTC and vaguely mentioning their security settings. They are NOT advertising the fact that you don’t have to provide your phone # anymore, which I can’t help but feel is because they are sorry they got caught, and have every intent to be shitty with your information again given the chance.

Below is a screenshot of part of Twitter’s required communication on the topic. Transcription follows.

Transcription:

“We may have asked for your phone number or email address to secure or authenticate your account (for example, for two-factor authentication). As we told you in October 2019, we may have used these phone numbers or email addresses to deliver tailored advertising to you on Twitter until September 2019. On June 6, 2022, we entered into a settlement with the Federal Trade Commission to resolve this issue.

As of September 17, 2019, we are no longer using phone numbers or email addresses collected for safety or security purposes for advertising. We never disclosed or shared your phone number or email addresses with advertisers. There is no action that you need to take regarding this issue.

You have a number of options to control your privacy and security when you use Twitter:

* Control your privacy settings. You can find out more about your privacy settings on Twitter, including how to enable or disable personalized ads, by visiting https://myprivacy.twitter.com.”

End of transcription. The rest of the article wasn’t screenshotted, this was the important part.

This was the extent of Twitter’s communication. Compare it to the actual agreement reached by the FTC. There’s a reason I read Twitter’s version of events and got pissed off... their propaganda worked, until I read more into it. They really tried to brush over the fact that they faced real and tangible consequences and now you can straight up take your phone number off of your Twitter account, use other means to secure it, and tell them to go fuck themselves.

MORE LIKE THIS PLEASE!!!