#even though i have like. barely 30 followers on twitter

[aduh0308]

freaky sex w sweet romantic boyfriend gyu 😳

warnings: romantic beomgyu, perv!gyu, dom!gyu, sub!reader, spit kink, mean dom!gyu, bondage (just hands tied w a ribbon), use of sex toys (vibrator), orgasm control, overstimulation, dacryphilia, piv sex, protected sex!, masturbation, calls reader ‘baby’, ‘pretty girl’ and ‘good girl’

obsessed with the idea of beomgyu who is such a lover that it completely hides the fact that he’s a total perv

like beomgyu who always says that love is effort— and he means it, buying you flowers and keeping one so he knows when it dies that it’s time to buy you more, who takes you on the sweetest dates, picnics and movie marathons and the occasional fancy because he just wants to spoil his pretty girl <3 so you’re fooled into thinking he’s entirely vanilla, and lord, he is not

finding his porn twitter account is entirely accidental, but you’re making a new account just to follow him, because from what you can tell from his retweets, his tastes match yours up to a T. mean dom men and whiny sub women, a shocking amount of spit, and what seems to be a mutual bondage kink, you’re getting yourself off not just to the videos on your screen, but to the fact that he has too 🤭 

you keep quiet, though, until your six-month anniversary rolls around. beomgyu’s taking you out to a particularly nice restaurant, and halfway through the dinner, he brings up, with zero hesitation, the fact that he wants to have sex with you tonight. if you don’t, that’s cool too he assures you, eyes locked on yours with a small twitch of his lips but, I figured it’s been six months… you’re quick to assure him that you would like to do nothing less than that, and beomgyu’s even quicker to call the waiter over for the check

there are two small boxes on your seat when you get into his car, and, cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink, beomgyu lets you know that those are for later 🤭 pressing a tentative kiss to your lips when you get inside his apartment, he lets out a noise of relief when you increase the intensity, hands carding through his hair, then unbuttoning his shirt with such pure, unadulterated desperation that beomgyu’s hard in his dress pants already <3 he’s on top of you in his bed in seconds, clothes thrown to the wind, and god, how pretty you look under him, even better than he could’ve imagined

w-whats in the boxes? you’re gasping, breathless with his lips on your neck, and beomgyu laughs, handing them to you, you opening them, jaw falling slack. a vibrator and pretty ribbons, beomgyu smirks at you mind if I use these on you?

you don’t mind at all. wrists tied to the headboard of his bed, legs spread wide to expose your dripping cunt, beomgyu breathes out a slow exhale, hands moving to push your thighs even farther apart. god, you’re so pretty… holding the vibrator to your clit and turning it on the lowest setting, he laughs when your knees jolt together. c’mon baby, not even anything yet, are you gonna be able to handle more? smirking again when you nod, swallowing thickly, and he turns it up higher <3 pretty whines and whimpers are music to his ears

loves the way you beg for release after 30 minutes of edging, but you’re not gonna cum around anything other than his dick, are you? you whine so prettily, asking to be able to touch him, wanna be able to touch him when he’s fucking you for the first time :(( he obliges, undoing the pretty pink ribbons bound around your wrist, and you sit up, legs shaking where are the condoms? beomgyu bites his lip in a smile at your quickness second drawer

he’s practically drooling into your mouth when he finally fucks into you fuck, pretty girl’s taking me so good… and your poor cunt is spasming around him within minutes, so fast that he laughs, still fucking into you so hard you can barely breathe, g-gyu, too much, can’t take it, t’ sensitive! and he only presses a kiss to your wet cheek can take it, doing so good, what a good girl..~

he lets a drop of salvia fall from his lips to your awaiting ones, and you’re cumming around him again, taking him with you this time, his pretty body shaking above you, and when he falls beside you in bed after discarding the condom, you have half a mind to tell him you know about his twitter account <3

[yournightmary]

Streamer!Ellie HCs

content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU, mentions of getting hurt

AN:: Another headcannons, who would’ve thought? Streamer!Ellie was literally the reason I started writing. Enjoy :)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who started streaming as a joke. Jesse was already a streamer and he constantly said she’d be good at it, so why not?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who at first had such a shitty setup. No webcam, mic barely working and her PC couldn’t handle minecraft with shaders.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who randomly went from 30 viewers average to almost 10k one day. Just blew up overnight.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who gets canceled at least once a week. She just says dumb shit without thinking and has to apologize after. and people are just fucking weird.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who lives off of snacks and won’t eat a proper meal if you don’t cook anything. She’s just always on that grind😎🔥

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who’s entire personality on camera is just a character. Screams and throws herself off of her chair on camera but goes non verbal every time she’s in private.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who mostly streams games, especially minecraft & fortnite. She might make an irl stream once in a blue moon, but don’t expect it to be good.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who loves her community and wants to talk to them more often but always ends up swearing and arguing with random people in chat.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who gets copyright strikes and warnings from twitch admins almost every stream. Most of the times she doesn’t even know what she did wrong.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who keeps your relationship a secret. She’s scared you’d get a ton of hate. (You would) ((Streamer fanbases are awful))

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who buys the most random things she can ‚for the lulz’. Whether it’s for her streaming room or bedsheets, she’s buying the weirdest option. (This made me think of her)



⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who is definitely a hey mamas girl.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who majorly fucked up and showed her personal instagram account (with your pictures) by accident. Her following went up by 10k almost instantly and she ended up deleting it:/

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who after that mistake took a hiatus for almost 3 weeks. I mean- logged out of every account she had and didn’t check any socials for that time.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who came back to streaming thinking she’d get all the hate in the world but people were just joking that ‚she’s too much of a loser to have a pretty girlfriend’.

they were also surprised she was lesbian. She never talked about her private life on stream, not even once.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ In my mind she’s the female version of 2019/2020 Quackity. Is he still relevant? idk

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who jokes about selling feet pics and bath water a little too often for your liking.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who once did a handstand for a 100 bucks. Ended up breaking her arm in two places and she couldn’t play games for almost two months.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who gets hurt on stream so often she got flagged for self harm. Apologized on twitter though:)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who definitely thinks loud=funny.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who finds out she’s in some kind of drama every single time she opens twitter. It’s always for something stupid too, like saying she’d win in a fight against some random streamer and their fanbase gets pissed.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who feels bad about having nice things so she just buys you a ton of gifts. Gotta spend that streamer money somehow🤑

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who showed you on stream once and the chat went crazy. People made edits of the 10 seconds you were on screen. Ellie watched all of them.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who streams cutting her hair every few months. She says ‚she’s cooking’ while chat drags her through mud.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ streamer!Ellie who streams so much she started saying ‚chat’ in real life, even when she’s alone. Always gets embarrassed about it and apologizes.

Can you tell I was a dsmp kid during quarantine?

[sumikatt]

(Has alt text.)

AI has human error because it is trained on “human error and inspiration”. There are models trained on specifically curated collections with images the trainer thought “looks good”, like Furry or Anime or Concept Art or Photorealistic style models. There’s that “human touch”, I suppose. These models do not make themselves, they are made by human programmers and hobbyists.

The issue is the consent of the human artists that programmers make models of. The issue—as this person did correctly identify—is capitalism, and companies profiting off of other people’s work. Not the technology itself.

I said in an earlier post that it’s like Adobe and Photoshop. I hate Adobe’s greedy practices and I think they’re evil scumbags, but there’s nothing inherently wrong or immoral with using Photoshop as a tool.

There are AI models trained solely off of Creative Commons and public domain images. There are AI models artists train themselves, of their own work (I'm currently trying to do this myself). Are those models more “pure” than general AI models that used internet scrapers and the Internet Archive to copy copyrighted works?

I showed the process of Stable Diffusion de-noising in my comic but I didn’t make it totally clear, because I covered most of it with text lol. Here’s what that looks like: the follow image is generated in 30 steps, with the progress being shown every 5 steps. Model used is Counterfeit V3.0.

Parts aren’t copy pasted wholesale like photobashing or kitbashing (which is how most people probably think is how generative AI works), they are predicted. Yes, a general model can copy a particular artist’s style. It can make errors in copying, though, and you end up with crossed eyes and strange proportions. Sometimes you can barely tell it was made by a machine, if the prompter is diligent enough and bothers to overpaint or redo the weird areas.

I was terrified and conflicted when I had first used Stable Diffusion "seriously" on my own laptop, and I spent hours prompting, generating, and studying its outputs. I went to school for art and have a degree, and I felt threatened.

I was also mentored by a concept artist, who has been in the entertainment/games industry for years, who seemed relatively unbothered by AI, compared to very vocal artists on Twitter and Tumblr. It's just another tool: he said it's "just like Pinterest". He seemed confident that he wouldn't be replaced by AI image generation at all.

His words, plus actually learning about how image generation works, plus the attacks and lawsuits against the Internet Archive, made me think of "AI art" differently: that it isn't the end of the world at all, and that lobbying for stricter copyright laws because of how people think AI image gen works would just hurt smaller artists and fanartists.

My art has probably already been used for training some model, somewhere--especially since I used to post on DeviantArt and ArtStation. Or maybe some kid out there has traced my work, or copied my fursona or whatever. Both of those scenarios don't really affect me in any direct way. I suppose I can say I'm "losing profits", like a corporation, but I don't... really care about that part. But I definitely care about art and allowing people the ability to express themselves, even if it isn't "original".

[terrorbitch]

i've added a family and i wanna see who i wanna keep on writing, so like this for a starter from someone in the galloway family. under the cut i'll list a little more information.

harrison "harry" galloway. 50-55. heterosexual. skeet ulrich. harry is a real 'rags to riches' kind of guy. he was getting into trouble with the law as a kid, so when he was a teen his aunt (who was his guardian) made him join the local theatre because they had no boys. it was a fluke, but one of the biggest directors in hollywood picked him up and ever since then he was hollywood's golden boy. in a PR relationship, meeting the love of his life on set of the biggest movies of the century. eventually, they both cheated on their partners and quickly (and unexpectedly) got pregnant with their twin boys. however, harry is always looking for ways to recreate his youth. unfortunately, he can't say no to his pretty little costars when they bat their eyelashes and invite him over for a drink after the wrap party. he's an amazing man, some would say, being the face of a lot of charities. but he's not a great husband and an even worse father.

misty galloway. 50-55. bisexual. madchen amick. being an actress was in her blood. her mother and father were also a hollywood couple, her father being the head of the biggest production studio and her mother being his starlet. with a massive age gap between the two, misty barely knew her father. she just knew he was a cruel man, and her mother put up with it. gave up her dreams, but instilled an incredible work ethic for misty. in return, she was a child actress turned teen it girl. she was known for being sexually liberated but when she met harry, that all changed. having her twin boys changed her. she was devoted to being a good mother, advocating for every single thing she could. she saw her husband straying, so she desperately tried to keep him by having two daughters. nowadays, she keeps her head up and ignores the rumors, for her children. she is strong willed, and speaks up against things that could get her blacklisted. but she doesn't care, because she is more passionate about keeping a world safe for her children and potential grandchildren, than staying in hollywood's good graces.

rexford "rex" galloway. 27-30. bisexual. josh o'connor. though all of the galloway kids love their mother, rex and his mum have a closer relationship. he was always passionate about acting, but he had hesitated because she tried to keep him out of the scene. despite the boys being in a few of their father's movies, only rex had gotten bit by the acting bug. unfortunately for him, he took after his father having a wandering eye. he had always been connected to famous socialites, but still had himself focused on doing films that really inspired him. he only takes on indie projects that have meaning, but he's his mum's go-to for anything press related. he will often be seen fighting with his father, and many times tmz has covered their 'tumultuous' relationship. he's quick to anger, though normally reserved, and often seeking intellectual connections.

oswald "ozzie" galloway. 27-30. bisexual. callum turner. he never really cared about the whole 'hollywood' of it all, but stuck around because he cared for his little sisters. ozzie never needed to get a job, he knew he was set, but he did take a particular interest in video games. ozzie constantly avoids conflicts, unless it's involving his younger sisters. your typical eboy/gamer bf, fluffy hair, tall and lanky. he'll secretly post thirst traps on twitter and tiktok, casually mentioning that he also likes to read books (acota and the likes) and has a pretty intense following on twitch. he doesn't get involved with his family affairs, often falling for the wrong girls and trying to hide away from his fame despite having a complete online persona. he's the sweet one of the family, always trying to work things out between the six of them.

sawyer galloway. 22-24. bisexual. bailee madison. the bubbliest galloway in the world. a total daddy's girl, though he always seems to disappoint her. a child star despite her mother begging her father not to let her get into it, and now is starring in every teen movie netflix will put out. constantly battling with insecurity, secretly hating herself and everything she does. will often let boys walk all over her, afraid to come to terms with her attraction to women despite her sister and her mother being open about it. she will cry at the drop of a hat, but also has been referred to as a 'real life rapunzel' which she strives to be each and every day. more talented than what she's given, but too afraid to dip her toes into anything more serious for fear of rejection and critique.

vaughn galloway. 21-23. lesbian. sophie thatcher. the black sheep of the family, though she does often respect what her mom is trying to do it never feels like enough. passionate about activism, vaughn moved out as soon as she could, going to school and not entirely sure as to what she wanted to major in. she's insecure about the fact that she's a 'nepo baby' and so she'll likely hide away at different functions so no one notices her. she loves her brother but she still constantly feels like she doesn't belong, or that she doesn't deserve what she has. has been very open about being a lesbian since she was 12, and though many people questioned it her mother did not and supported her through it. can be found at lowkey music festivals, or just doing part time work in a small town where no one would notice her.

[minerwarfare-suzuya]

Aftermath

Miles Ownership timeline drama

Public Announcement

So, apparently Mobox87 has blocked me (not surprising or upsetting. Not like I'm going to have an outburst like I did in 2016) and messaged Kevonica about my post on Miles due to how she's brought up in it. I just want to clarify that she wouldn't have been brought up at all if she didn't put Miles on a pedestal for any issues that he causes with artists or with Mobox87 fans. So, yeah not my fault you get dragged into drama because Miles has to bring you into the argument for his defense.

But-

I will just say that I won't do another rant post on Mobox since I don't want to thrive on that to where she's becoming more uncomfortable being online than she already is. I don't support her IRL stalker and online stalker madbox91 harassment nor do I wish her to harm herself like she did before over Zombify's Twitter thread and feel that she needs to be taken off the internet by deleting her accounts all over social media.

I've come to a point where I don't care if Mobox87 apologizes because her and I will never be on good terms which the same could be said to her ex-friends that were once close to her. Plus, her apologies won't ever go into details on what she's done wrong since they always go on to say "I've done some bad things" (like what did you do?) or victimize herself saying "I was a manipulable person" (that neglects the fact that you made bad decisions on your own sense of mind not by others requests or demands). Either way, it's whatever at this point. I don't need 21 apologies for her to say publicly or privately to everyone.

Honestly, what goes on with Mobox87's art is whatever at this point. As long as she keeps explicit content on a second account that isn't advertised on her main then that's fine. Some may disagree but that's a post I'll talk about soon since I do want some understanding on what can work with mature story tellng.

So, Mobox this won't be the last you'll hear from me. Not until I make one last post on giving a sneak peek of my script segment "Understanding" which will later follow up with a Maverick video posted here. For now, do whatever you want Mobox. Anything and everything said about you has been done.

In other words, I'll leave you alone for now since I do want you to succeed expectations to prove that you have changed as a person online.

Anyways!

Miles responded to my timeline post, specifically part 6 of my post cause I showed how he wanted to be in a committed relationship with a minor that was 16 who barely becoming 17.

Apparently he's been calling out Kevonica, Cagney and I out. Kev has been getting labeled as homophobic, racists and a pedophile with no evidence provided against her.

Most of the stuff said on his new account is just propaganda to make him look like he's the victim in the situation I called him out in. It's quite honestly no surprise he'd stoop so low as to label us as something we're not with out any evidence.

So just know that Miles is saying shit out of his ass.

One example being that he posted on his Instagram account "human_anthony_dust" and reposted on his new Tumblr account, calling me out as a pedo still and lying about how I "claimed false age" to his OC that he bought from Mobox87.

Which again he never announced the age of the OC publicly. Even then you can age up characters in drawings but I didn't since the OC is 30 years old or in his 30s. He's complaining over nothing.

Vinsnake is literally William Afton created as a fantasy character for Faces of Nothing. William Afton is a character in his 30s in which Mobox87 herself made Vinsnake around that exact age as it was originally attended.

Again, Miles never made the character 16 years old until he bitched about my drawing in response for harassing Yuriviq on DeviantArt.

Ironic though-

You made a character 16 years old last minute while you were trying to get with someone who you said was a 16 year old.

Even more ironic, that most of the OCs you kept the longest were kid OCs from Mobox87 while the adult OCs you owned were sold off first.

Doesn't really help your case after admitting you wanted to be with someone under 18.

Oh but wait-

I suppose you did take Kev's own words into consideration.

But that contradicts your deleted post before publicly sharing that "Important info".

You're obviously lying to protect your image and make Kev look guilty for showing me her conversation with you so I can look like I'm the dumb one jumping to conclusions.

The last response from Miles was this. Still being misleading and excusing his own actions

The following list says.

• Kevonica, Cagney and I look down at people for simple human mistakes.

Ah yes because saying I like a 16 year old barely becoming 17 while still under 18 when you're 21 surely is a "simple" human mistake.

Heck maybe the harassment all over Amino without remorse was a "simple" human mistake.

Surely, that IP ban you did to someone over a drawing of your paid OC was a "simple" human mistake.

• Lie about others and only care what they think is the correct answer.

Miles, that is you as a person. You fit that description cause you are a liar and only care what you think.

• Sick of our mental abuse, harassment and cuber bullying

Mental abuse? Where is the evidence on that of us ever doing that? Harassment and Cyber bullying is what you do since you fucken spam our DMs at 7 in the morning to talk out of your ass!

• Time to take a real adult step

You're a literal man. Whose a cry baby and the epitome of a bitch online over your petty nonsense. Like get that in your head. I'm not the one with entitlement over stupid reasons and lack of common sense.

Anyways, I'm just going to end it here because this asshole begged for a response after I went silent. So, here it is because you practically asked for it. This was your moment.

[y0d00p]

not sad just rambling personal thoughts

I've followed basically the same under < 30 people here for the past like 10 years. I only follow people I believe I might cultivate at least an acquaintanceship with. I stopped caring about following artists just for their art with a detachment from them as a person like 15 years ago. if I follow you I consider you at least a good acquaintance or neighbour if not an actual friend if you're comfortable with it. the sole exceptions to this are the authors of the whole 2 webcomics I follow and straycatj

I can't even stand to follow more gimmick/aesthetic blogs. screenshotsofdespair, color-palettes, and one or two nonspecific cat blogs are the only ones that have stuck around all this time. like I've tried following new ones over the years and always eventually just get annoyed by the new unfamiliar posts on my dash lmao

I'm more lenient with this on twitter for whatever reason (following a whopping 58 accounts, which is barely too much sometimes), and extremely lenient with this on my nsfw twitter because most of my friends don't have such accounts or don't use them much or don't post the kind of niche content I want

so anyway following hundreds or even, god forbid, a thousand or more blogs sounds miserable to me. I want to be able to see everything everyone posted, every day! because I like their art and I like them as people and even though I'm quiet and don't interact much I care about them and their lives and like to see how they're doing and what they're into and what they're making and where their heads are at when they make stuff and such yknow

[limerental]

ficletvember 2023 - day 30

gascon/meve/reynard thronebreaker office au

After months of failed efforts to matchmake his boss and her secretary, Gascon resorts to mistletoe at the company Yuletide party.

Part 1 here

Gascon was nearing his wit's end.

Over the course of the past months, he had tried every trick he could think of to coax his stubborn and oblivious colleagues into recognizing their mutual attraction. 

To no avail. 

Granted, most of his tricks came from cheesy romcoms and his own meager, largely online dating experience, but it shouldn't have been so hard to convince two middle-aged workaholics that they were made for each other. 

Though his range was fairly niche, limited to obscure forums and hobbies most ordinary people would be ashamed to admit to in public, some would call Gascon an influencer.

If he could influence a few thousand people on Twitter into buying boring company merch featuring his fursona, surely he could convince his boss and her secretary to lock lips.

He didn't know how much more of this he could stand. 

There were lingering glances as their fingers brushed when Reynard brought Meve her morning espresso and then similar, charged looks when Meve brought him mugs of chamomile in the evenings, her silent plea that he leave the office at a reasonable time for once and rest.

There were fond smiles from a distance, vanished the moment the other turned their way. There were little moments that verged nearly into flirtation, the inevitable sort of endless banter that happened between two people who truly liked one another, but those moments were inevitably interrupted by some workplace drama or another. 

Meve pretended to care about Reynard's spreadsheet formulas. Reynard tripped over himself when asked to check Meve's emails for typos. Neither of them seemed to notice how often they finished each other's sentences.

It should have been fairly straight forward to give them both a nudge in the right direction, but alas. They were rigidly professional and bound by polite office decorum, wholly ignorant of their clear mutual interest.

The upcoming company Yuletide party, Gascon decided, would be his best shot to finally shove them out of the office and together. In previous years, the party had apparently been a dull midday luncheon, which just wouldn't do. 

It had taken several days of consistent pleading, culminating in a gif-heavy PowerPoint presentation, to convince Meve to authorize Gascon to throw a festive company bash the likes of which Rivia-Lyria Inc. had never seen before. Or really wanted.

His plan was simple. Good food. Alcohol. Questionable music. A casual environment away from the expectations of the office. And then, mistletoe. Bam. Kissing. Immediate eloping. Profit.

On the evening of the party, Meve appeared like a vision in the festively-decorated banquet hall Gascon had rented. She wore a gold dress that shimmered in the light and draped off her bare shoulders, and it struck him then. How beautiful and out of reach she was. 

He watched Reynard's lovestruck gaze follow her across the room and thought, I understand exactly what you feel.

Worse still, Reynard looked devastatingly handsome in a sharp tuxedo. His nervous half-smile when he noticed Gascon watching him was disarming in its awkward charm.

Ah. Of course.

In his months of unsuccessfyl match-making, Gascon had somehow managed to blunder into falling for them both. 

Uncomfortable personal revelations be damned, the show had to go on. 

But his attempts to lure them beneath any number of strategically placed sprigs of mistletoe went thoroughly ignored. The couple had eyes only for each other, locked in deep conversation, and could not be distracted into the convenient means of moving things along to smooching that Gascon had provided for them. 

Defeated, he moped in a hidden corner along the outskirts of the gathering, nursing a mug of spiked eggnog and posting depressing all caps song lyrics on his personal Twitter

He was interrupted in his attempts to miserably wile away the remaining hours of the party by someone clearing their throat.

It was Meve, smiling, and Reynard on his other side. She gestured above his head. 

Knickers leaned through the garland-draped banister of the balcony above him, wagging his tail with his usual expression of mischievous glee. From his collar hung a sprig of faux greenery rather than his usual oversized dog tag.

The brush of lips against his cheek was soft and unexpected. He must have been making quite the dumbfounded expression in response, because Meve laughed, bright and gorgeous, and even the seemingly humourless Reynard snorted.

His perplexed spluttering was interrupted when Meve leaned to kiss Reynard thoroughly on the mouth with a familiarity that could only come with excessive practice.

 Gascon had never claimed to be the most detail-oriented man. Well, maybe he had in multiple bullet points on his resume. But who's counting?

After a lengthy conversations about assumptions, open communication, and Gascon's poor taste in romcoms, the trio proceeded to christen every silly bit of greenery hung about the place.

And then some.

[josiebelladonna]

remember a couple of months ago, when they were down in latin america, how excited he was to be there? i also just think back to when quarantine was going and he’d get people all over the world joining him, and he’d say, “oh, god, yes! we need to come back to you!” that’s not the vibe i get from this. this is like, “oh, great, back in poland” (meanwhile, the polish crowds are some of the most energetic).

i was talking to teababe/octoberrust about this last night: does he seem—different—lately?

hiding his face more, both personally and out on stage; i watched him on steve’s story last night, eric’s story the other night, and on chris’ post earlier, he has his back to the audience more. his antics feel a lot more forced, too, like he jumps around on stage but there’s something off about it; it’s like he’s trying too hard or something. his post from when he was flying out to berlin he wore sunglasses at night (it was like 8-8:30 on his end, and he was indoors, too; this was literally right before the smoke in new york was getting bad), and in fact, he wore sunglasses in every selfie the last few days (he takes them off before he takes a picture. he always smiles really big, too: there’s a selfie of him with nikki sixx on the story and he’s barely smiling). on eric’s story, i noticed he’s also lost a lot of weight, like his belly’s not poking out nearly as much and his arms look really thin, too, which is actually not a good thing for someone his age (or the fact it’s coming off his having gained a lot last year). nevermind my kink for a second: someone his age who gains a lot of weight and then loses a good portion of it in a short amount of time, and before you head out on an international tour, cannot be healthy. in fact, look at his selfies closely: he’s a lot more pale now.

like, i don’t think this is just trauma from his mom being sick (especially when i realize she was released from hospital a full fucking week before he left for germany). something happened to him. this is not the same alex i fell madly in love with.

you know. it’s really easy to assume the worst. i already really, really dislike gipsygeek. scratch that, i can’t fucking stand her. i just think of christine’s “i wish she would just drop dead” in seasons grey as i write this. at best, she’s fucking pretentious. really, how a humble sweet guy like him wound up with her, i don’t know. and she’s really insufferable: she’s like those assholes who complain about twitter even though they use it a million times a day. i’m sorry, alex: i don’t buy the whole “she’s very private and avoidant of public attention”, because listen, if she truly was, she wouldn’t have a blog or an Instagram or talk to your followers as if they’re her own like on that post about the cat last month. at worst, she gives me the shittiest of shitty vibes, like just on its own, i have the weirdest taste in my mouth writing out her name (probably because “gypsy” is actually a pejorative term, especially when spelled with an “i”; it’d be like using the n-word for your handle, I see the intent in taking the power back but it ends up making those of us who know extremely uncomfortable) and why i call her captain howdy instead. hell, there’s a reason why i based captain howdy from seasons grey on her. plus, remember when jeff beck died and i reached out to him (“my porch light’s always on”), and he acknowledged it (and for a while, he was actually kinda flirting back with me)? never did say anything to me, in fact, i don’t recall seeing him on instagram at all in that whole week when i think back to it. i really, really don’t like her, and the more i think about this, the more i dislike her from when i snooped around on their blogs back around thanksgiving. speaking of which… i didn’t mention this, but when i found the old planetary coalition twitter, and i scrolled all the way down, i found a picture of the two of them together, and i shit you the fuck not, she was all smiles, all confident and shit… but he did not look happy. if anything, he looked like he was about to pass out right next to her. i wish i screenshot it but i didn’t (it actually made me throw up in my mouth a little bit).

and this just… i have no words. something happened to him last week and it’s so easy to assume the worst. if i didn’t know better, i’d swear he had a stroke and came back a radically different person. a sweet, friendly, sociable, intelligent, chubby, cute man who flirted with me whenever she wasn’t around now to a complete shadow of himself.

what THE HELL did you do to him, captain howdy.

[bambiscottagecare]

I went out with some old coworkers today. I feel like without the emotion this could have been one hell of a kink post but it’s hard for me to want to spin this that way, so I’m posting here instead.

I found out that the person who was essentially my workplace bully (as cringe as that sounds) is in the middle of an active investigation because the district manager wants her fired. Multiple people have quit, including some new hires, several of the shift leads have either threatened to or have transferred, and apparently my name has floated around a bit. The DM actually wants to talk to me specifically but technically can’t because I don’t work there. I’ll gladly meet her at Applebee’s and spill over a shark bowl or some Sangria though. It feels really validating, though depressing. Not that it matters in the end because she’s still working there and my indeed inbox has cobwebs.

I would love to tell her about how she treated me like dog shit. About how she constantly made me feel worthless, and (sorry but I’m gonna use the word outside of kinkplay) retarded. Everything Idid felt wrong, and no matter what it was it never felt like I was good enough. I’d love to talk about how she always put me in lose-lose scenarios to prove a point, or how I’d have to give myself long pep talks before leaving. Or how I started smoking again after getting hired, because being stoned and bed rotting was what helped me unwind and relax. And despite posting about being a dumb bimbo I never wore makeup to work because I physically did not have it in me to put on a face for people that didn’t like me, and I sure as hell didn’t want to cry off my face that I worked so hard on. I actually barely even wear makeup anymore. I’m gonna lose platinum at Ulta and I’ve already lost rouge at Sephora. Kinda ironic considering part of the kink is makeup and being hyper feminine, huh? Speaking of…

When I come on here and talk about wanting to be degraded and called slurs and stuff that’s obviously in the context of kink. I sign up for it, quite literally. I consent to DM’s and mean reblogs. And if I’m not consenting, I’m not on tumblr because I’m not in that headspace. And if you’ve managed to cross a line even with that consent, I’ll just block you.

But…I haven’t had that problem. Truth is masochistic misogyny doms, in my experience, have been wonderful. They check in on you. Even if they’re not domming you and are just randos that come across your content. I KNOW that it’s not always that way. We all have horror stories it seems like. I just haven’t. I can tell you all about people like my former boss who come off as sweet and caring just to be the worst person ever, but in the 30 years that I’ve been alive and the 12ish where I’ve been either in this space or adjacent, I can count on one hand the bad experiences I’ve had with a self proclaimed Superior Male.

And I’d rather have the guy posting about how we’re (women) are all useless retards and not worth the shit in their toilet in my DM’s and in my life than the guy with the aesthetic Twitter account who always retweets anti-bullying psas anywhere near me.

Uh, thanks for coming to my ted talk ig, all four of you that follow this blog.

[girldigital]

more on yankeeism

Here is a more concrete reason why New York is superior to London, even though my data is very limited: Dating.

Every single date I’ve had in New York has been sitcom-worthy. Sex and the City is truth!

Here’s a quick sample of my own experiences:

A – Lower East Side furniture designer. Tall Mexican cutie that looks like he took a page straight out of Fabrizio Moretti’s handbook: fluffy curly hair, motorcycle leather jacket, skinny-ish jeans, oxford boots (I think?). He also had lovely pouty lips to top off. He invited me to the New Museum. After our little tour, he brought me to the top floor, which was nothing but a balcony overlooking the city. We were the only ones there, standing on top of the world. I started filming, as I do, and he told me about this polaroid camera he had home and had never used. He suggested I take a picture of him to keep and that he does the same, like the good old days. This being music to my ears, we went to his, took photos, he showed me his VHS collection and brought me to an 80’s themed bar nearby. We then went back to his, had perfectly serviceable sex and got brought back to reality by my ringing phone after what was seemingly 3 missed calls. V was already at the venue of the event I had gotten tickets for: Kerri Chandler B2B Chez Damier at the Knockdown Center, no less. So, A and I got dressed and went on our way. I spent the night listening to some of the greatest house music, making out with my pretty boyfriend of the night, discussing leftism and immortalizing on tape one of my favorite house music events to date. At around 3, we left. There was a couple sitting in front of us on the train, embracing after what seemed to have been a long night as well. Perhaps out of envy, I proceeded to rest my head on my temp boyfriend as well, as his eyes were losing their fight against sleep. We got back to his and I slept like a star.

M - Lower East Side jewellery/clothing designer. Short-ish (sorry!), twitter crush. Jewish Italian, how New Yowrk! Also has big tousled hair and nice lips, maybe that’s the Manhattan look. We initially met in Montreal while he was touring with this DJ I’d been following for a while. Funny how I used to be a fan. He invited me to an event his friend was playing at Mi Sabor Cafe. I didn’t have american cash, nor Zelle, nor Cashapp, nor Venmo in order to get in (you’d think I’d be guestlist but whatever). This guy in line volunteers to pay for me, I thank him and go inside the venue. Shortly after, I join my boyfriend of the night and the guy who paid for my entry comes up to us. I thank him again, and he starts saying words of flattery to M, wearing merch the latter has designed. I can’t even begin to imagine how great M must’ve felt. A fan wearing his clothes, buying his pretty girl's entry. He’s winning across the board, and so am I in a way. I’m the trophy of the night. I see the DJ, he says nice to see me in a different city. We drink and dance and go back to his for the night, which despite clearly not being what I think he wanted, was fine by me. How could I forget to mention that calling him a minuteman would be complimentary; I honestly think it might be 30 seconds at best most times.

R – Originally from Los Angeles, this massive hunk was living in Williamsburg when we met. I’ve never met someone that fit more the description of a himbo, both inside and out. He had the deepest voice and the most limited vocabulary. Soho house member, “photographer” (if you can call barely pointing a camera at pretty girls that), podcaster and potential ex-sex addict. He was 6’3, had a buzzcut and was covered in American traditional tattoos. He, too, was Latino I think. We grabbed coffee and sat in this park - a quick Google search makes me believe it was McCarren park. I don’t remember much besides him calling me sexy every few minutes. As we were walking to his place, he was grabbing me tightly from under my shirt, complimenting my body and saying how It makes sense that I’m into action leading ladies as I look like one (slay). He was one of those men with a deeply carnivorous gaze, whose lust you could taste. Once we got to his very nice building, he took me to his rooftop. We started making out, and very quickly, I found myself on display in my underwear, in broad daylight, kissing this man like I wanted him. When he told me he couldn’t actually take me to his room, all I felt was relief. I was a bit bewildered as well, because how do you get me semi-naked after all these advances, knowing I’m leaving your city the day after, only to tell me “actually….. no sex”? As a guilt-riddled, potential lesbian though, that was great. I walked back to the Bed-Stuy place G had invited me to stay over at, with the best deal I could’ve hoped for: a sitcom-worthy date and no bad sex.

Meanwhile my dates in London have been:

Exchanged a few cocktails for head with this Australian guy that reminded me a lot of that one demon that was once in my life (except hotter, obviously). Good looks, and lots in common, just didn’t care. Attraction level -100. I was in bed next to him thinking about the message I’d send Big later that day.

Got drinks with this guy from Manchester. After a bit of uninteresting blabber, I told him I had to leave soon because of work, without realizing it was actually still quite early as we barely had been together for 2 hours. I felt bad when I realized, but also, my God does time go by slow when you’re spending it with someone you don’t have chemistry with. I stopped feeling guilty when I remembered just how much I would’ve rather have stayed in bed that evening. Didn’t have to pay back the cocktails with head this time though, so that was nice.

And that’s it. 3 months in and no sight of my one true love. Not even that, but not even an episode worthy date. Just…boring, uneventful heterosexuality. What a bore. I feel like I’m back in Canada. Anyway, I do know I’m supposed to be a lesbian, it’s just much harder to get a hold on girls… And I feel qualified to say this, as a hard to get a hold of girl myself. Then there’s the fact that I’m corresponding with Big also fucking up the entire system, but that’s besides the point. Or maybe that’s the whole point. Ah

[charcubed]

Hey! Yeah, I'm happy to clarify myself. Thanks for not jumping down my throat.

This reply (though public) was in response to someone who I know has followed me on here + on twitter for quite a long time, so I was sort of "cutting to the quick" as it were and knowing I was working with her having some sort of context lol. But this is the open internet, obviously, so it's definitely not on you to know the full POV of who I am and other things I've said about this topic previously.

Firstly: my sexuality has layers, but one of those layers is that I'm ace too. Sex-repulsed ace, actually! Don't fuck, never intend to fuck, have never seen myself fully represented in media, etc. etc. So everything you've mentioned regarding the ace experience are things I also live.

And I'm also not a kid either! I'm nearly 30. When I said "the ace mostly-children of the fandom," the "mostly-children" part wasn't saying all the ace people are kids. It was saying that the people who make logic leaps and act like what I said above (who also happen to be ace) are, in my experience, mostly the kids of stan twitter.

As for the rest of it:

I'm gonna link you to this other post of mine where I talked about exactly what you're mentioning/asking here. It was/is a direct response to people saying they "hope Aziraphale and Crowley don't have sex," even (in some cases, which seems to apply to you too) despite seeing the subtext pointing towards it.

That post covers most of what you asked/mentioned! I'm gonna do us both the courtesy of trying not to repeat it lmao. But I'll elaborate on this sentence of yours a bit too as an add-on:

"However, I'm an ace who enjoys other earthly pleasures... without enjoying sex... so I'm honestly not sure what the issue is, or how it's homophobic."

The thing is that – saying this in the least patronizing way possible, but I gotta state this in order to deconstruct this – the rules of stories are not the rules of real life. By that I mean... Yes, ace people like you and I can and do enjoy other earthly pleasures and not enjoy sex! Totally, yeah. But that is a level of nuance this story is (thus far) purposefully not engaging with, and is in fact antithetical to what it has now laid down (post-season 2) about these characters and their behaviors.

The omission of them enjoying or openly seeking after sex so far is not an indication that they can't or don't crave it with each other. (Like a viral post recently said on this site, "sometimes a story is about the gay sex that's not being had" lmao.) And, sorry for the repetition here, but by many people's admission there is evidence that the story does have some indication of subtext about that craving and desire for sex – partially because it is a story, and stories (unlike real lives) work within the construct of themes.

In Good Omens, pleasure – and the denial of it but desire to engage in all forms of it – is a huge theme in the narrative. It's an unavoidably queer theme that connects to the (religious-coded) trauma the characters are living/experiencing, the way their relationship is deliberately deeply illicit and hidden, the blatant imagery of Muriel being dressed as a cop and looking for evidence of that illicit relationship which is very connected to historical connotations of cops enforcing laws against queer people / gay sex... and more.

We know that they do both want and enjoy earthly pleasures – music, clothing, culture, food. Once Aziraphale gets one taste, he ravenously yearns for more. In Crowley's case, he also sometimes starves himself of things because he's afraid to admit how deeply and desperately he wants (i.e. watching Aziraphale eat while barely eating himself).

They are both so very Different from all the other characters (and are constantly under threat of being punished for it, especially if they engage in anything too Visually Different) because they are "of the world." They are enamored with all of the experiences and pleasures of humanity, and they rebel despite the dangers that presents because it's part of who they are. As part of that, they Crave, while fighting with the shame and fear of knowing they're strictly not allowed to Have.

Considering the breadth and depth of these themes, and the fact that those themes are explicitly queer, at this point that craving for pleasure cannot and should not be divorced from all forms of pleasure. Queer sex included. Because they're characters, not real people, so it's not a leap to see the subtext (with the ox scene only being a part of it) in the story overall, and then to look at how Aziraphale just got a first taste of Crowley. We can follow that thought to its future natural conclusion – and want to see the story follow that natural conclusion on our screens as well for necessary thematic consistency.

[Side note: As you said, ace people can and do have sex. I do think one can argue now and in the future that these characters are ace spec, if someone wants to! But I am also not naive to the fact that when people say they want "ace rep," they often mean visible ace rep, aka not seeing characters have sex. Because if characters fuck and don't have a conversation where they sit down and establish that they, y'know, don't experience sexual attraction but have sex with each other because they're demi or because it feels good or whatever (which is not gonna happen in Good Omens!)... then the majority of the population is not gonna watch it and see them as ace. And at the end of the day, plenty of ace people looking for "visible" rep would be angry about that, I'm sure. And that's the issue at hand. It is what it is.]

Thank you for being like one of the TWO people I've seen who agree with me on Neil's whole Thing right now, on Twitter they are really gunning for the "a+c having sex would be acephobic" position and it's making me so tired

"a+c having sex would be acephobic"

I'm going to commit murder <3

Sorry that's not helpful but this actively introduces so much inarticulate frustration and near-rage in me that I don't even know how to begin to unpack how stupid and often lowkey homophobic that is lmao. And I know I don't really need to (in terms of replying to you because you get it)

feels like this though

Neil Gaiman, being pedantic and somewhat insane for kicks: Of course that kiss wasn't sexual. (Crowley was not asking to fuck Aziraphale in that scene. The kiss was about something else entirely in their moment of fraught miscommunication.)

The ace mostly-children of the fandom: Omg soooo true Mr. Gaiman 💕💕💕 a kiss doesn't have to be sexual! They're ace! Aziraphale and Crowley don't want to fuck because they're ETHEREAL BEINGS who crave other earthly pleasures but NOT SEX, why would they want sex, that would be silly! Thank you for my beautiful ace rep 😍 Anyone trying to erase this is acephobic and I hope they NEVER fuck!

Me: Every single one of you, Mr. Gaiman included, is making me grow grey hairs and I feel like I'm actively in the twilight zone right now

[pradagymbag]

Examining my media usage over a 24 hour period

iPhones do not control you <3 

Over the weekend I took some extra time to monitor my media usage. This includes all screens watched, not just my iPhone. Lately I’ve been really trying to cut back on how much I use my phone. The mental drainage that follows a TikTok rabbit hole has finally caught up to me. We have an on again off again relationship, meaning I delete the app every few days only to end up downloading it again. Each time I relapse I binge even harder, making up for lost time, but that’s all part of recovery. That being said, this research was conducted over a 24 hour period where the TikTok app was not downloaded on my phone. Every hour or so, depending on the activity I was doing, I logged what form of media I was using and for how long. The following is a detailed description of a usual Sunday in my life, focusing on the media I consumed that is inherently rotting my brain.

I start my day of screen consumption in bed, 9am and I’m already in the trenches of twitter. Catching up on extremely relevant pop culture news and accidentally watching an extremely graphic video of active war crimes. After that light reading I dig through my rolodex of podcasts and find one that suits my vibe for the day. It’s important I highlight this now because you will notice as this day unfolds, I am almost always listening to podcasts. I think it’s because any waking moment I have alone with myself I run the risk of hearing my own thoughts, so the podcasts really help drown that out.

It’s around 9:30 by now so I hop in the shower, get ready for my day, and head out the door, all with a podcast still playing. I had to run a quick errand so I drove to the bank and blared some tunes in the car on the way there and back. Upon arriving home I start a load of laundry, during the process a podcast is playing. Then I mosey back up three flights of stairs to my apartment and make breakfast, listening to a podcast as I cook. Around 11:30 I head downstairs to my neighbor/bestie Annie’s house. For a moment we sit in the living room and talk some shit (media detox if you will) about the occurrences from the night before (nothing harmful relax everyone does it). We exhaust ourselves speaking about nonsense and decide we should listen to some music. I’ve been teaching Annie how to DJ for her birthday party coming up, so we spend the next 45 minutes mixing songs that definitely don’t belong together. By now it’s noon, and we have places to be.

The place in question being Costco. This was my media defying activity for the day. Though I did aux in the car, I barely checked my phone for the hours between noon and 3pm. If you have the ability to use your phone in an environment as over stimulating as costco on a Sunday I don’t know if I should fear or applaud you.

When we got back home it was around 3 in the afternoon. I used my phone to venmo request my roommates because I spent $40 on toilet paper and paper towels. Then I headed back downstairs and Annie and I continued mixing music until about 4:30. Around that time we had some friends show up at the house so we got some socializing in before watching a movie. Once that was over I went for my nightly walk (around 7pm) where I did not engage with any sort of media whatsoever. I find it really soothing to have moments like this each day that are dedicated to getting outside and feeling like a real person. It was around 8 o’clock when I got home and had dinner. I picked up a burrito on my walk and watched TV while I ate. My roommates and I then proceeded to binge watch Broad City until around 10pm.

After starting to doze off on the couch downstairs, I decided it’s time to wrap up my day. I resume my podcast and go down to the basement to check my laundry. 13 hours and still not all dry! God, I love my landlord. I pay $1.50 in coins to run the dryer for the 4th time that day, and head upstairs accepting my fate. I take another shower and do my nighttime routine while listening to a podcast. Now it’s time for my favorite part of the day. I get to lay in bed nice and clean and doom scroll on my phone until I fall asleep! I do a dance checking every single app over and over in a loop like a cyborg. Once I feel myself unable to keep up, I set my alarms, resume my podcast one last time, and fall asleep. Today my screen time was a whopping 4 hours and 27 minutes, just on my phone. If I was being more accurate though I would tack on an extra 2.5 hours to include time spent on the computer, watching TV, and listening to music/podcasts.

Overall this experience was really insightful and helped me gauge just how addicted I really am to my phone and other forms of media. The biggest take away here is that I really benefit from not having access to tiktok, and that I can’t be alone with my own thoughts! Hope you enjoyed consuming this piece of media about my personal media consumption habits! How much screen time did you put in reading this?

[olderthannetfic]

I think the Ana Mardoll thing on Twitter was a good example of how a lot of the most influential anti types are older and should know better and are doing it for clout and to create a younger following. Person with a long-standing Internet reputation for suggesting bad stuff in books “does harm” and harassing authors for not being progressive enough turning out to work for Lockheed Martin is hilarious on its own (and I hope gets people to think about who these kinds of stances really “help”) but I also thought it was notable that he regularly begged for money from a following that was largely young and not particularly financially secure trans people by pretending to be poor when he wasn’t, and that his whole internet persona seemed to be about trying to fool people into thinking he was younger than he was — had an avatar that was supposed to resemble himself that looked like fanart of a K-pop boy when Mardoll is a white 40-something and also consistently referred to himself as a “trans boy” rather than trans man. A lot of grown adult anti behavior seems to be this “how do you do fellow kids” sort of manipulative behavior toward younger people who don’t know better when really they just want to be a cult leader and have identified a vulnerable audience. And also I think AM was pretending to be younger so that his ideas didn’t have full scrutiny

--

Yup.

I admit, when I heard that name again, I went "Oh, that person's still around?" and then "LOL, Shakesville". Even though the self-involved middle class person thinking they're disadvantaged wasn't Mardoll in that case, it's not an association he'd want to raise in the minds of his suckers audience.

I think quite a few people like Mardoll genuinely think they have it bad though. It's not a lie. I saw these people all the time when I worked in Finance, and they litter the tech industry in California. By most people's standards, they have a lot going for them, but they're surrounded by the ultra-rich and ultra-successful. Maybe Mommy and Daddy had remunerative careers too. So when a given person's talents are more suited to writing or art or when they just don't take off like some of their peers, they feel like the saddest cinderella sleeping in the ashes. They've got the massive entitlement of their community but not its success. They also see the bare minimum of a decent life as home ownership of a nice, freestanding house with a yard and the ability to take international vacations.

I don't think they can even really grasp just how little some of their donors have or how out of reach those middle class dreams are for them.

God, the “how do you do fellow kids” part is so embarrassing to witness. I don't give a fuck if people like things that are theoretically "too young" for them. Kids' books. Idols. Who cares?

But this isn't that: it's the fear of irrelevance by age 30 or 40. It's being bitter that you weren't cool/successful/whatever the first time around and feeling entitled to a do-over. And not the "hey, I found myself at 40" version where someone acknowledges their past or tries to dismantle all the silly nonsense around aging. No, they want to go back to being inherently more relevant and cool by virtue of being A Youth.

Like I've said before, this is what I always picture:

[or-is-ittt]

Be Here

You and Harry rarely ever fought but when you did it was never pretty. Your fights were never meaningless and never about cheating rumors or anything like that. No. They were normally about one of you neglecting the other or about the chores that either of you failed to complete.

Harry had promised you a night out tonight to make up for being in the studio so much lately. “It’ll be a great night babe. Just the two of us.” He had told you the day before.

However it seemed as though his plans had changed because you’d been waiting for him to come home for the past 2 hours and pictures of him entering a bar with the band were filling your twitter feed. After the first 30 minutes of waiting for him, you began to grow impatient and angrier every second you saw the door not swinging open.

Your reservation was at 8:30, and it was 11 now. Fuming you decided to go and change out of your light pink flowy dress you had bought the day before just for your first date with Harry after almost a month. You knew that dating The Harry Styles would mean giving up lots of nights out and time spent together, but lately it seemed as though he didn’t even acknowledge that he was in a relationship at all. Every time you had presented him with the idea of spending time together weather it was at home or in public he would shoot you down with a “I have an important meeting with Jeff.” Or “ I have a super mandatory recording session today and I can’t miss it.”

After changing you decided that you were done waiting up for him so you got ready for bed and took your pillow to the guest room. You knew that you couldn’t stand to be sleeping with him that night. You absolutely hated fighting and confrontation so you decided that you wouldn’t be the one to start any of that. So you would give him the silent treatment. ———————————————————————————

Harry knew he had fucked up big time when he came home fully drunk and with you and your pillow gone from your guys room. He knew that he had a date with you but they had gotten done in the studio an hour early and the band had wanted to go for a couple of drinks. He was a little hesitant but he figured he would just leave early and would just have like 2 drinks. However the 2 turned into 4 and then into 6 and by then he’d lost track of time completely and the cherry on top was that his phone died so he didn’t even get your calls or texts.

He knew you were going to be angry the next day since this was the 3rd time he’d done that to you that month so he decided that he would get up earlier than you and try to make it up to you. You normally never got up before 9 on the weekends, so when you’re in the kitchen at 8 already eating your own breakfast, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Carefully walking over to you, he pulls you into him and gives you a light kiss on your temple. “Mornin’ love” he says, voice barley over a whisper.

You pull away from him, grab your dishes to put in the sink and walk up the stairs, practically not even acknowledging his existence. He knew he deserved this but he just wanted to fix it so he follows you and gently pulls your wrist before you can get on the first step.

“M’sorry love, I completely lost track of time and my phone died, ” he says but you refuse to look him in the eye because you know you’ll start crying. “Please love just look at me, Jeff and the band wanted to go fo’ drinks and I just thought I would go for a bit. I know it sounds awful but I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.” He speaks his voice trembling a little.

You wished that sometimes he would just say no, you’ve never understood why it was so hard for him to just stand his ground. You were tired from barely getting enough sleep last night and weren’t ready to talk to him yet. You knew it probably wasn’t the best thing to do but you just couldn’t handle him right now so you pull your wrist away from his hand and continue walking to the guest bedroom.

Right when you close the door you’re crying your eyes out because it all just got to much. You want to believe him when he says it wouldn’t happen again but it’s hard to when he’s always forgetting or busy. Soft sobs fill the room and you begin to doubt your relationship with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him because you did, with every breath you took and with all of your heart, but it’s hard to be in a relationship with someone who’s not as present as the other. You knew you’d signed up for this but maybe you couldn’t handle it. Maybe you just needed to take a break from him for a little bit, just to collect your thoughts and how you feel about your relationship. Maybe Harry just needs to get some of his priorities straight. And weren’t being mean or inconsiderate but you knew that Harry loved what he did and you never wanted to get in the way of that so you knew that a break from each other would be a good thing. You sat like that for an hour just thinking about all of it.

A soft knock was heard and you knew it was Harry trying to talk to you. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever so you got up and opened the door slowly like a scared child who knew they were going to get in trouble. (I know bad analogy but bare with me here) He looked as if he had been crying too and you knew he was sorry and after thinking everything through you knew what you were going to say.

“Love… I-I’m so s-sorry.” He spoke through sobs that completely shattered your heart. “P-please don’t leave m-me, I know I fucked up but j-just let me make it up to y-you. Please.” He fell to his knees and shook violently with sobs.

Now you were crying too. “Baby g-get up please” you spoke, voice barely coming through from all the crying you’d been doing as well. You feel to the ground as well where he was still crying and put or arms around him hugging him tightly while trying to calm yourself and him. You both stayed like that for a while just embracing each other not wanting to move or talk about everything that had been happening. The both of you got up and walked hand in hand to the small seating area you had in the room.

Neither of you wanted to start the conversation but you knew someone had to so you decided that it’d be you.

“Why Harry?” You said your voice cracking a bit. “If you knew we had a date why did you say yes to going to the bar? A-am I not of enough importance to you to get you to say no?” You spoke

He looked at you through sad tear eyes and shocked his head. “You are love… i just… i wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry.”

“You know what Harry, that’s a shit excuse. I can’t and I won’t always be here waiting up on you to come home because ‘you weren’t thinking’ ” You say holding up air quotations with your fingers.

“I didn’t think I’d forget. I was only trying to have like 2 drinks and then they all started doing shots and I had said no but they wouldn’t stop asking, but I didn’t mean to I swear darling.” He cries. “P-please just give me one more chance love. I’ll be better I swear. I’ll come home early from the studio more often, whatever you want me to do I’ll do it love. Just please don’t leave.” He says

You don’t want to leave him either so you decide to give him this one chance. “I’m not going to leave you H. But you have to promise me something.” You say

“Whatever it is love I’ll do it, just say the words.” He speaks hope evident in his voice.

“Just…just be here.” You say a soft smile creeping up on face when you realize that you are both going to be alright. You know that this will take a while to heal but your willing to make it work with him.

He gently cups your cheeks and pulls you in for a soft kiss. You pull back and smile. “We’ll be alright yea?” He says. “We’ll be alright” you beam at him.

A/n alright so my longest writing ever! Please like and reblog!!!! Also please be niceee but still leave me your honest opinion.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

The Sculptor

Chapter 10 - The Gift of Fire

[Final main chapter! I'll post the epilogue shortly and then this fic is done ♥ And please don't forget to check out @ceru-draws!! This fic wouldn't exist without their incredible piece The Sculptor (but Wangxian), and I seriously can't recommend their art enough, go give them some love! Follow them here, or on Twitter, or on Instagram, whatever you prefer, but just do it!]

[Masterpost] [AO3]

-/-

“How was the party?” Lan Wangji asks Wen Qing when she arrives home on Saturday afternoon, and he can tell the moment she walks through the door that something’s up. He looks beyond her shoulder to spot Luo Qingyang following her in, and he relaxes. He likes Luo Qingyang, truly and genuinely, and though he’s not typically fond of unexpected visitors, how could he be upset to see her? “Mianmian,” he greets, more warmly than he would greet anyone else who isn’t his wife or Wei Wuxian.

“Hi Wangji,” she says with a sweet smile up at him. “I hope you don’t mind-”

“You know you’re always welcome in our house, don’t ever apologize,” Wen Qing reminds her before Lan Wangji can say precisely the same. “We have news for you,” she then says to him, and he can’t help but blink at the barely-restrained aggression in her tone.

He reaches out to take the shopping bag from Luo Qingyang’s arms with an inquisitive noise in the back of his throat. The pair of them follow him into the kitchen, and when he sets the bag down with a rustle of paper and a glance back at them he catches them in the middle of communicating something between them with nothing more than sharp glances in his direction and thinned lips.

“What happened?” he asks with no small amount of alarm - considering the panic he’d felt over the party in the first place, he’s not inclined to think that any news they might have to give him together the day after will be anything good.

“Wei Wuxian is definitely gay.” Wen Qing says it like ripping off a bandaid, sharp and quick, and Lan Wangji so thoroughly appreciates his wife and her no-nonsense attitude in that moment that he can hardly breathe. “Mianmian’s Family - they’re the painters he shares Yiling Collective with, the theater director at the performing arts center in town, and Wei Wuxian.”

“He was there?” Lan Wangji asks when he feels like he can breathe again. He’s not sure what he would have done if he’d gone to the party with them and seen Wei Wuxian sitting there, surrounded by part of their little underground community in such a way that there could be absolutely no doubt as to his place in it, but it likely wouldn’t have been very dignified.

“No,” Luo Qingyang says apologetically and Lan Wangji exhales carefully. “But Uncle Xingchen had to run out to the studio for something and he said A-Ying was still in his side of the studio moping around. Uncle invited him to come but he said he didn’t want to show up at the party all sad and accidentally spoil our coming out. He started telling us about the piece he saw on the workbench, and when he described it to us Qing-jie knew for sure that my ‘cousin’ he kept mentioning was your Wei Wuxian. I didn’t even realize you were down there working with him until last night!”

Lan Wangji stares into the space between their shoulders and just..tries to think.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes come to mind first, laughing and intense in equal measure, heavy whenever they rest on him for any reason. His hands, never straying but…lingering, on the rare occasions Wei Wuxian finds a reason to touch him. His blushes, his praises, the way each image he’s made of Lan Wangji yet has been done with so much delicate care that it makes him want to blush just to think of them. 

He’d mentioned the end of their allotted time together twice within roughly 30 seconds of each other yesterday, and the reminder had settled uncomfortably under Lan Wangji’s ribs and stayed there, sharp as a razor whenever he breathes even today. Had it made Wei Wuxian just as upset? He’d seemed alright when Lan Wangji had left, but if Xiao Xingchen, who must know him well, had seen him just hours later and reported him back as ‘moping’ then what could have happened in the interim except Wei Wuxian thinking about their parting conversation?

“A-Zhan?” Wen Qing prompts quietly, and Lan Wangji forces himself to take a deep breath in. Hold it. Exhale slowly. “I want you to pursue this,” she tells him when he looks at her, her face as serious as it ever gets. “I want you to be happy. We can stay married, we can adopt A-Yuan, we can do everything we promised. And you can keep Wei Wuxian.”

“He’s single,” Luo Qingyang adds before Lan Wangji can attempt to get his feet back under him and he narrows his eyes at her - they’ve clearly coordinated this attack, but Luo Qingyang just smiles at him, falsely guileless. “And he told Huaisang forever ago that he was going to quit going down to the Corner Bar because hookups just aren’t what he wants anymore, he’s looking for more but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to find it.”

Lan Wangji wants to give him so much more that his knees nearly buckle under the weight of it, though of course only he knows just how close he is to losing his iron-clad control.

“Go sit down,” Wen Qing orders. “That’s a lot of information for 2pm on a Saturday, just go think about it, alright? We’re going to make Mianmian’s cookies to take across to Margaret, we’ll set some aside for you.”

Lan Wangji frowns a little at that, startled out of his spiraling thoughts by the utterly uncharacteristic decision from Wen Qing to not only bake cookies for someone, but specifically for a woman she claims to barely tolerate. As far as distractions go, it’s surprisingly effective. It’s Luo Qingyang who clears that up for him too, still smiling sweetly.

“I think Peggy’s one of us,” she says with a wink. “I’ve seen her snooping around the outside of the Corner Bar one too many times for her to have been ‘just a little lost’, I want her to know we’re here for her if she needs people to talk to.”

“Right,” Lan Wangji manages, and the only thing that keeps him from mumbling it is all his uncle’s comportment lessons as a boy. “That is…good. Mn.” He drifts out of the kitchen in a daze to return to his spot on the couch, mind churning uncomfortably through so much new information that he was in no way prepared for. He can hear Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang chatting quietly in the kitchen as they bake, occasionally breaking into laughter, and it soothes him to hear his best friend and her partner free to be themselves. Happy.

This is what he’d promised her. He’d sworn to her that they’d keep each other safe, that she could be herself with him and he would be there for her. Encourage her. He’s only realizing now that he’d never truly anticipated she would need to uphold her promises to do the same for him. He’d been so certain that he would spend his life entirely celibate, too afraid of being hurt, being in danger, to ever pursue a partner for himself. He had accepted that. But now, with the possibility of not having to accept it in front of him, it feels like his entire world has been flipped upside down. It’s terrifying. It’s uncomfortable.

But he knows Wei Wuxian. He trusts him. He, if he’s being honest with himself, loves him already. Desperately, in his own quiet, hidden ways. If pursuing that love means he has to feel like he’s falling up into space then he hopes he never finds his footing again.

“What are you going to do?” Wen Qing asks him quietly on Monday morning when he comes downstairs for breakfast, dressed for the day as usual in one of his most comfortable suits. “Will you tell him?”

“I do not know,” he answers honestly. He’s had a day and a half to think about it, and though he knows he wants Wei Wuxian, wants whatever the man will give him, he has utterly no idea how to go about actually getting it. Wen Qing had come to him on her own to ask him to start ‘dating’, and had proposed their marriage to him as well in her usual no-nonsense way. He has never once, in his entire life, practiced going after the things he wants like this, and certainly never with so much at stake.

Wen Qing, mercifully, leaves him to his thoughts without sharing any of her opinions on the matter (though he’s sure she has plenty). She sends him off at the door at the usual time with a reassuring squeeze to his hand and he appreciates it, the quiet reminder that no matter what happens he still has her. They’d promised - support and companionship. Security. He can be safe with her, even if everything else falls apart. 

When he arrives at the studio it’s to find Wei Wuxian only just arriving to unlock the door, his shoulders a little slumped and his hair tied up sloppily in a red ribbon, much brighter than the faded maroon of his shirt. Lan Wangji thinks of Luo Qingyang saying that he’d been ‘moping’ on Friday night, and he wonders with a pang if that’s still the case.

“Wei Ying,” he greets, and the man turns to look at him over his shoulder, already grinning at the sight of him.

“Lan Zhan! Right on time as always. Sorry I’m not already set up, I slept in this morning.”

“No need, Wei Ying deserves to rest.”

Wei Wuxian just chuckles at that and steps into the studio. The first thing Lan Wangji notices when he steps inside is that the place absolutely reeks of cigarette smoke, and he glances automatically at the ubiquitous little cardboard box that had taken up residence in Wei Wuxian’s pockets a few weeks ago. He hasn’t actually seen him smoking, but now he supposes that’s just because Wei Wuxian does it on his own rather than because he doesn’t actually do it at all.

“Ah…I’ll just. Open the windows,” Wei Wuxian says sheepishly with a little wrinkle of his nose that’s unfairly adorable.

“Mn.”

Lan Wangji shuts the door behind them and begins undressing. After having done it so many times he barely hesitates at all, even when it comes to removing his trousers which is still such a new development. His hands are shaking today like they haven’t since those first few days of undressing here, but he knows that at least this morning it has very little to do with baring himself for Wei Wuxian’s gaze - which, now that he can be honest with himself about his feelings, had thrilled him just as much as it had terrified him when Wei Wuxian mentioned it during that very first meeting.

“So - before you get comfortable on the sofa for the day,” Wei Wuxian starts with a smirk to invite him to join in the joke that is ‘comfortable’, as his pose is far from it, “I want to let you know that since I’ll be moving onto the final piece now I need to take some um..measurements. Well a lot of them, actually. To build to scale.”

It hardly takes any consideration at all for Lan Wangji to see the logic of that and he nods easily, unsure why Wei Wuxian is blushing about it.

It takes roughly two minutes more for Lan Wangji to understand the reason for that too.

He’s been measured for suits his entire life, stood on many a tailor’s podium with his feet spread shoulder-width apart and grit his teeth until the process was over. He has never once had a handsome man’s hands on his bare skin, measuring every conceivable part of his body. It’s a very different experience, and one he has no interest in ending any time soon. 

Wei Wuxian’s clever, lovely fingers skim across shoulders, ribs, down his arms, circle around his wrists…his neck. He finds a robin’s egg blue silk ribbon somewhere in all his many scraps of fabric and uses it to tie Lan Wangji’s hair up for him when it proves to be too inconvenient to ask him to hold it up out of the way in a loose bun on top of his head, and somehow the gentle hold of it at the back of his head, the bottom two thirds of his hair still hanging loose to drape over his shoulders, leaves him feeling more exposed than if it were all still gathered neatly out of the way.

He stands still in the middle of Wei Wuxian’s studio, in front of a mirror he’s never seen before but that Wei Wuxian seems to be using to help with the measuring process, and he settles into the low-simmering arousal of being naked for Wei Wuxian as the man, fully dressed, circles him slowly. Touches him, polite and businesslike but reverent in the same way he’s been every single time he’s ever touched him. Lan Wangji glances down on instinct when Wei Wuxian stops in front of him to measure the breadth of his chest from shoulder to shoulder and his next inhale catches when he sees Wei Wuxian’s sturdy leather boots so close to his own bare feet, a large fold in the stiffened skirt of his apron a hairsbreadth from brushing against his thigh.

Wei Wuxian has forgone his usual clay-stained overalls for the day, dressed instead in worn trousers and a sinfully soft short-sleeved button up, sleeves cuffed over the strong curves of his biceps, all of it haphazardly protected by a softened denim apron that does actually brush Lan Wangji’s skin in the next moment when Wei Wuxian steps just a centimeter too close. Lan Wangji’s hands are practically aching with the desire to push it all off him and strip him down as well, even as he thrills at the power dynamic of being so vulnerable in front of Wei Wuxian, still completely put-together and in control of Lan Wangji’s every movement.

Wen Qing’s question pings helpfully in the front of his mind again when he looks up from the narrow space between them to meet Wei Wuxian’s wide, dark eyes.

What are you going to do?

Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitch on his chest and he swallows once before he leans back to scribble messily in his notebook balanced on the edge of his workbench, the furniture shoved aside for the moment to accommodate the mirror and give them room for Wei Wuxian to circle around him easily. They continue on in silence like that - nothing but their breathing, the occasional creak of leather or the wooden floor, and the slither of the tape measure through Wei Wuxian’s fingers to break it - for almost half an hour before Wei Wuxian finally takes a step back and studies him, color high in his cheeks.

“I have a few more to do,” he says, which Lan Wangji had expected considering he hasn’t even done his legs. He nods and follows easily when Wei Wuxian sits down on his stool sandwiched carefully between the mirror and the overladen table that Lan Wangji has spent hours looking at over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. He’s meant many times to ask him about the family of statues on the top of it and is tempted to ask now, but whatever’s happening between them right now is..fragile in a way he can’t explain, but that he knows he doesn’t want to break. He stands silently beside the mirror as Wei Wuxian leans over - stretching out the lean line of his body for Lan Wangji to savor - to drop his tape measure on the workbench and swap it out for a pair of wooden calipers. Lan Wangji can’t resist raising an eyebrow when Wei Wuxian clears his throat and gestures vaguely at his hips.

Not that he needs permission, Lan Wangji would give Wei Wuxian anything, but he nods anyway and offers the man his usual quiet but firm, “Mn.” The familiar gesture makes Wei Wuxian smile up at him and Lan Wangji slides his hand up the side of the mirror to curl his fingers over the corner of the sturdy wooden frame - he’s afraid his knees will give out from under him if he doesn’t.

Wei Wuxian’s hands are visibly trembling as he adjusts the calipers a few times anxiously without bringing them anywhere near Lan Wangji’s cock (which is not nearly as soft as would be appropriate in a professional setting, though it’s thankfully not hard either) - and then he suddenly reaches into his pocket to draw out a brand new pack of cigarettes to pull one out and pop it between his lips.

What are you going to do?

Lan Wangji reaches out before he can think twice about it to take the lighter from Wei Wuxian’s shaking hands. As Wei Wuxian looks up at him, startled, he maintains steady eye-contact as he flicks the lid back on its hinge.

Spins the wheel under the side of his thumb with a metallic ring. 

There’s a nearly inaudible whoosh as the flame catches, hot and bright in his hand, and then Lan Wangji holds it out at hip height, mere inches from his own pelvis.

If Wei Wuxian wants a light, he’ll have to lean in close to get it.

They spend an endless moment blinking at each other, and Lan Wangji thinks in that moment that an understanding of the sort they’ve been dancing around for two months, since the moment they met, finally passes between them. Wei Wuxian lounges sideways slowly, ankles crossed next to Lan Wangji’s bare feet, elbow resting on the back support of his stool. His calipers dangle carelessly from his relaxed hand as he raises the other hand to hold his cigarette steady between his index and middle fingers as he leans in, in, in - and holds the tip of it to the flame cupped in Lan Wangji’s fingers.

Lan Wangji tucks one ankle carefully in front of the other and settles in with a relieved little sigh, the weight of years lifted from his shoulders in the moment between Wei Wuxian lighting his cigarette and flickering his heated gaze up to meet his, eyes glinting with the warmth of the flame. 

Lan Wangji flips the lid of the lighter over to snuff out the fire with another metallic little click, fingers clutching tight around the cool metal of it nestled in his palm. Wei Wuxian breathes deeply, takes the cigarette from his lips, and turns his head to the side to exhale again.

“Lan Zhan-” he chokes, his gaze fixed on the bare expanse of wall beside them. “I can’t-”

“My wife is a lesbian,” Lan Wangji blurts, panic moving him to speak bluntly. Heated glances and mutual understanding, one queer man to another, are all well and good, but he also knows that Wei Wuxian is a good man, a righteous man - he won’t step anywhere close to what he sees as an unforgivable breach of trust, but Lan Wangji can’t lose him. Not now, not ever. He can force himself to speak clearly for the sake of something so vital. Wei Wuxian will keep him safe.  “She had her coming out just recently. Friday evening.”

Wei Wuxian looks up at him again sharply, eyes wide with quick understanding.

“Mianmian?”

“Wen Qing’s girlfriend of three months, as of this week.”

Wei Wuxian exhales shakily and takes another fortifying drag off his cigarette - and the moment he does he seems to remember just how it was lit, and by whom, and his cheeks flush the deepest red Lan Wangji has seen on him yet.

“And you, Lan Zhan?”

“Pleased that my wife has found a lover to make her happy. And…” Lan Wangji swallows down years of shame, embarrassment, longing for something he’d never hoped to have in order to add, “I believe it is time I allowed myself to find my own.”

Wei Wuxian stares up at him for a breathless eternity, and then in quick succession he tosses his cigarette down to the floor to grind the lit end between his boot and the wood, jerks to his feet, and then his hands are on Lan Wangji again, firmer than before and without the excuse of the tape measure to mask his intention. Lan Wangji releases the mirror and the lighter clatters to the floor beside their feet in favor of having his hands free to reach towards the other man, to cup Wei Wuxian’s jaw, both hands curled tightly against that beloved face so he can pull him in and kiss him with barely-controlled hunger. There isn’t an ounce of hesitation left in either of them as their mouths meet, parted and perfect.

Lan Wangji may take a long time to make up his mind, but when it’s made he does nothing by halves; now that he knows what it feels like to have Wei Wuxian melted against his chest, lips soft and open in eager permission for Lan Wangji’s clumsy, amateur kisses, he knows he can never live happily without it again.

[actualbird]

may i raise: artem mr 99% win rate senior attorney at 28 or whatever wing, driven to full blown laughter in the nxx headquarters. the reason: some dumb joke luke says that just so happens to cater to artem's Oddly Specific Sense of Humor

I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCH BECAUSE I LOVE HUMOR. and humor theory, humor studies, linguistics of humor, senses of humor, just, oh man, you hit something here, anon. im kind of sorry for what this answer is going to be because i have thoughts and by god am i going to tell you all of them

i like to think a weird little thing happens, among the NXX Investigation Team: marius wants to know what exactly can make the other members of the team lose their fucking marbles.

mc was his first target and she was very easy to crack. she likes videos of animals doing cute yet silly things and was brought to wheezing laughter at a video of a golden retriever valiantly trying so hard to catch food in his mouth but missing every single time. with further prodding, marius also finds out shes into memes and jokes from medias shes familiar with.

vyn was next and he took a bit of thinking, from marius. marius needed to get vyn right on the first try because he's sure that if he fails once, vyn will give him THE most smarmy unimpressed expression ever and marius will have to be physically held back from punching him in the face. so he thinks about vyn's personality and background, thinks about maybe psychology jokes, but then marius comes to a conclusion that he believes enough to hazard a try. one day, when he and vyn are waiting in the nxx meeting room, marius sends him a tweet. with bated breath, he watches vyn notice it, open it, and then emit just the softest little "hehehe"

which, from vyn, is honestly as boisterous as his laughter is ever going to get.

the cause of the laughter? that video of a dude being pushed from a platform into the dark abyss, his scream echoing, from the Perfectly Cut Screams twitter.

because vyn is like, insane.

marius decides to leave artem for last (because duhhh marius has barely seen artem smile, is he even capable of laughter?? artem is going to be marius' Boss Level, he goes last) so next on the laugh train is luke.

but luke has figured out that marius is on a mission and luke, an arrogant shithead in his own way, refuses to let marius break him.

marius wants to STRANGLE LUKE. marius has sent him memes of olde, memes of new, comedy sketches, tiktok compilations, vine compilations, and luke does not laugh. marius is damn sure he would have, at some of those things, but luke is Refusing To Laugh and marius is so close to challenging him to like, a duel (shut up, he doesnt know okay, hes frustrated and he doesnt know how to express that like a normal person, get off his back) or something.

marius gets so desperate that he even resorts to what he thinks is the most groan-worthy form of humor: puns

very specific puns, because today marius is testing his theory that maybe luke's nerditude will betray him. puns about engineering and natural science, theyre all TERRIBLE but marius continues because he WILL WIN, GODDAMNIT and

theyre outside of the courthouse, waiting for mc to finish up (she just had a trial and she was awesome, as per usual, queen shit) so marius, vyn, luke, and artem are idling outside, and while waiting. marius is telling puns to luke. aggressively.

"you can give up, you know," luke smiles sweetly. "no shame in that."

"fuck you, next pun," marius scowls. "a raven has 17 primary wing feathers. these feathers are called pinions. and the crow only has 16 of those feathers. so the difference between a crow and a raven is..." marius winces. "...only a matter of a pinion."

"okay," luke says, and marius wants to punch him sooooo baaaad. "not only does that pun suck but it's also just. objectively wrong. both crows and ravens only have 10 primaries---"

"shut the hell up, birdbrain."

"---among those 10 primaries there a few that are longer and more distinct than the others, kind of looking like fingers, so to speak. crows have 5 evident finger feathers---"

"oh my god"

"---wheareas ravens only have 4. so i guess with some editing, the joke could still work. a more sound version though would be to compare crows and song sparrows, which do have the correct difference in primaries and---"

marius is about to flick luke in the forehead, but hes stopped by the strangest sound.

the sound of somebody having an asthma attack but like, through a kazoo or something.

marius, luke, and vyn turn to where artem is and he is, inexplicably, losing his shit. he continues to lose his shit actually for like 30 whole more seconds before he calms down enough to look up at everybody who is in turn looking at him like he's grown a second head.

"what?" artem says, puzzled.

"why the fuck were you laughing?" marius asks.

"because it was...funny," artem says as if this is obvious when it is NOT and then everybody in that moment realizes

that what makes artem laugh seems to be the act of over explaining jokes itself.

(and before anybody sends a follow up ask, marius' favorite joke is bofa.

artem scrunches his eyebrows. "what is bofa?"

marius grins, absolutely fucking DELIGHTED.)