#issue numbers in alt text

[jaclynhyde]

all of mr. bones' later appearances are this cool, sinister skeleton man so nothing prepared me for reading infinity inc. and realizing he's a total fucking loser

he rhymes constantly:

which not even his gang appreciates:

he lounges completely nude in a hospital bed and complains about hospital food:

beth convinced him to steal an ambulance to save her friends...

...and he wears a disguise:

he has adorable baby pictures:

he learned everything he knows from tv:

he respects exactly two people in infinity inc. and that's beth and lyta:

he likes to dance:

he mans the grill at the titan/infinitor pool party despite the whole cyanide thing:

he made a video for nuklon's proposal to lyta, without actually telling him:

i adore him

[kagoutiss]

oot zelda doodle i liked :’-)))

[ipso-faculty]

Perisex allies: stop this shit

CW: intersexism

Came across this infographic during some google image searching and I'm still kind of a state of despair about it because it's not just offensively wrong about what intersex is, it was used to teach university students about queer issues:

Alt text: LGBTQIA+ are defined one by one. Intersex is defined erroneously as "These are people who were born with genital organs of both sexes (male and female). It is a genetic condition."

It's one thing for your rando perisex person to be getting this wrong on social media. It's another thing entirely when it's professionals getting this wrong in an educational setting. 😩 And that this infographic appears in a peer-reviewed publication. 😩

It's even worse to know the students that were taught with this infographic were medical students, who will be the ones traumatizing intersex people for decades to come 😩

It's so wrong in so many different ways:

Intersex is not limited to people with genital differences. Most intersex people have intersex variations that are not apparent at birth, with puberty being the most common time of life for variations to present. Many people find out in adulthood having no outward physical differences.

Of the intersex people with genital differences, they do not have two sets of genitals. Most genital differences are still recognizably female or male (e.g. spadias), and those who have ambiguous genitals have one set.

Intersex is not "male parts + female parts" or even "intermediate male/female parts", it is an umbrella term for anybody whose primary/secondary sex characteristics don't line up with what is expected for male and female bodies. Some intersex variations make women look more feminine, or make men look more masculine.

Defining intersex by genital differences doesn't just exclude most intersex people, it also sets the tone that we are defined by our genitals. To be publicly intersex is to have non-stop DMs about your genitals. This sort of framing sets up openly intersex people for invasive questions and harassment, and it keeps large numbers of intersex people from coming out.

Many intersex variations do not have a known genetic basis. Many intersex variations are caused by exposure to certain hormonal levels in the womb. Certain medications when taken during pregnancy can trigger intersex variations.

While bodily variation is necessary for being intersex, the social experience of stigma, discrimination, isolation, hyper-medicalization, and hyper-sexualization are all just as much a part of being intersex.

📣 Perisex allies: this is shit you can stop. When you see other perisex people parrot this sort of misinformation, correct them. Direct them to look up resources written by actually intersex people.

Here are some starter resources to give:

Intersex explained by Hans Lindahl

Media and style guide by IHRA

FAQ by intersex-support

A recent post I did compiling information for trans people who want to be better intersex allies

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

OKAY it has been a day of being sad and panicky. Time to move.

Yesterday, I made a post detailing the cdc announcement that there will no longer be an isolation requirement for covid. If you are one of the thousands of people rightfully raging in my notes, here's some steps to focus on.

We're not gonna give up. I've seen quite a few comments with things like 'what's the point', 'why should I even try anymore' etc etc and what we're not gonna do is give them what they want! It helps the eugenics cause to be apathetic and listless. We've made it this far, we will continue to make it. I know it's hard, but I am at least right here with you. Give yourself whatever time you need to grieve, and then I need you to get up.

If you have stopped masking for any reason, or you haven't upgraded to a respirator style mask, now is the time to change or start. From now on, we will be living in a country where you could assume there are multiple covid positive people in the room with you at all times. Surgical masks will not handle that load, and cloth masks will be even less effective at that point. Obviously, this is an unprecedented situation we're putting these masks in, and I'm not gonna sit here and pretend to be an expert that can tell you with certainty that even respirators will hold up with this amount of viral load for a long period of time, but it's the best and strongest tool we have. I'm considering using my p100 more, so that's always something to consider as well (and they make you look like a cool raver when you wear them!!!). You can buy all sorts of masks here, there's more links in the comments of my original post, and most states have their own mask blocs. To find them, go to Instagram and type "[your state] mask bloc". Here is a google doc of verified advocacy groups and mask blocs all across the country here is a diy fit test kit you can buy for $30 (unfortunately they are sold out right now. shocker.) PLEASE remember to take a layered response in these times. Masks are not the only tool in our arsenal. PLEASE for the love of God keep up with your vaccinations. Make a corsi-rosenthal box or buy a high quality air purifier if you can afford it--at the very least our homes can be safe havens (you can even put a hepa filter on your furnace!!!! And in your car too!!!!!). Use CPC Mouthwash, nasal irrigation, and nasal sprays like this one. Make it a routine: you come home, you shower, you brush your teeth, you rinse your nose, you change your clothes. And, like I said in another one of my posts, DO NOT TAKE OFF THE MASK.

3. If you would like an outlet for your rage and you're into calling your reps, feel free to calmly but firmly let the cdc have it at these numbers!!!!!

[alt text: a tweet by user silly_paulie that reads:

"Disdain for the CDC unites us all. Call today and demand isolation policies be returned to 10 days, and reducing it further to 1 day would be criminally dangerous. Call both:

404-639-7000 (press 8)

800-232-4636"

end text.]

4. If you need more outlets for your rage, I STRONGLY encourage you to get involved with your local union. Moreso than calling the CDC, tbh. I've seen multiple comments telling people just to lie about your symptoms to get more sick time off, but since there's no legal precedent to allow employees sick time for covid, all that's gonna do is get people fired. I truly believe in my lefty heart that the ONLY way we're getting anything close to mitigation is through labor rights. Even the standard for the fucking flu is 3 days, and that's nowhere near as contagious or disabling as covid. I say this as a high risk person with a neuromuscular disability: covid is an intersectional issue, but where we have the most leverage to get what we need is through labor rights.

It is NOT safe for workers to be working while ill with a Level 3 Biohazard (same as TB and the FUCKING PLAGUE. Seriously we have more regulations around fucking lice)

It is NOT safe to willfully EXPOSE your employees to a Level 3 Biohazard

It is NECESSARY for all employees to be allowed up to 10 days to recover fully from Covid-19, in order to avoid possible further injury from or hospitalization

You will NOT die or be disabled for the sake of the wealthy!!!!!

(and while you're at it, ask for better air filtration too!!!! At least 5 air changes an hour, MERV-13 air filters!! Then we won't have to constantly worry about virus bs and policy changes in the first place!!!!)

5. Closing statements. Nothing has changed with covid, this is just policy. Covid still isn't magic, she still has to get in you before she can do damage--mask up, arm your home with clean air, and don't let her. It's always worse toward the end. This is not the time to give up, it's time to dig in your heels and get to work. There are so many good things happening with covid. They are finding encouraging treatments for long covid. Finally, after years of nothing, a new prophylactic for the high risk was submitted for emergency use to the FDA, and it looks like this time it's built to last against new mutations. Covid is here to stay for the rest of our lives, but the real science hasn't given up on taking the worst of its teeth out. We WILL get to the point where the extreme fear of catching covid is nothing but a bad memory for EVERYONE. All I need you to do is commit to the belief that you're gonna survive long enough to be in that moment with the rest of us.

Now stay safe, and give em hell!!!!!

[blurredcolour]

IV. “I Trust You Know What You’re Doing?”

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

Struggling with the forced separation of your transfer and promotion, it does not take long for you and Bucky to plan a trip to London together. But even while you're on leave, the world around you continues to do its best to tear itself apart.

Warnings: Language, Grief, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [oral - f receiving, implied virginity loss, protected vaginal sex, condoms, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Welcome to this massive installment. I have no excuses, only apologies. Also I only had the fortitude to proof this once, there may be more errors than normal, but I didn't want to delay it any longer - I will correct things as I find them. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

ETA: The image descriptions for the letters contain the text within to allow for a screen reader or anyone who cannot read cursive. Click the ‘ALT’ button to access.

Word Count: 8497

-------------------------

Wycombe Abbey could not have been more different than Thorpe Abbotts if it had tried.

The private, or in a most confusing twist ‘public’ as the Brits called such institutions, girls’ school had begun its life in the 17th century as a manor house before being transformed into a much grander residence near the end of the 19th century. The school had opened in 1896 with only forty students, but that number had swelled to over two hundred by the time the building was requisitioned for use as the Headquarters of the 8th Air Force.

Stained glass windows, stonework, archways, and wood panelling now replaced squat concrete buildings and rough-and-ready Nissen huts. Though everything was just as drafty, so at least the temperature provided some familiar consistency to your new surroundings. As you descended from your quarters tucked away in some forgotten corner of the attic, down a set of precarious servants’ stairs, you nearly took a wrong turn – again. To your credit you had only been here three days and the maze of corridors and rooms further divided into offices for USAAF purposes was nearly unnavigable.

Chiding yourself softly under your breath that your office was to the right and not the left, as though the sharpness of your tone might really drive it home this time, you quickened your steps still hoping to beat to postal clerk to the outgoing mail box that sat on the corner of your desk. It had been more of a challenge than you were expecting to write the letter clutched in your hand, but the daily meetings that senior operations officers held at 1015, 1600, and 2200 were your responsibility to attend and record via frantically scribbled notes to be typed up in a more professional format later.

These were the meetings at which mission targets for the entire 8th were chosen. The strategic value of various locations was discussed alongside weather reports and aligning with the RAF’s Bomber Command for maximum impact against Nazi Germany. After the first meeting, it would be decided if a mission would even be conducted the following day, and each Division, Wing, and Base involved would be put on alert to allow them time to begin planning the operation. By the time the last meeting ended, the target and approach would be finalized, and the official field orders would be issued.

It made for a remarkably long day, even with breaks for meals, and though you were guaranteed every other Friday off because of this, by the time you crawled into bed near midnight, you only had enough energy to add a few lines onto the letter you had begun to Bucky as soon as you arrived. It made for a rather disjointed and rambling piece of correspondence, in your opinion, but you could not bear to keep him waiting any longer – not wanting him to assume you had forgotten to write and not knowing how long the thing would take to reach him regardless.

Dashing into the office you shared with Myrtle, a very stoic young woman with dark hair and thick eyelashes from Rhode Island, you exhaled in relief to see the post still waiting to be collected and added your letter to the pile. Unlocking your desk drawers, you began setting up for the day, hoping it would reach him quickly.

His reply arrived in your inbox just over two weeks later, near the end of September. Sliding it into your brown leather utility bag, you did your utmost to ignore its very existence throughout the first daily meeting, and your subsequent production of the official report thereof. Taking your lunch break a little earlier than usual paid off in that the line was much shorter at that time. You inhaled the mystery stew and rolls, hardly tasting them, before taking your letter outside to read in the rare afternoon sunshine.

It was short, and it was unspeakably adorable that Bucky did not write in cursive, but there was no lack of his personality in his response. It was as though the very essence of him had been distilled into the ink itself and you could not help the broad grin that bore its way into the muscles of your cheeks, making them ache as you read it.

Glancing quickly at your watch, you realized there was still time to send a reply before the second post pick-up but based on the length of time it had taken for this exchange of letters, it was unlikely another would reach him with enough time to plan for October 8 – your next Friday off. Worrying your lip between your teeth as you considered your options, you landed on a rather devious idea, one that quite honestly would have never come to you if not for the deep need to reach Bucky immediately. Vi had a telephone on her desk in the weather office, a number that you had access to given the strategic importance of weather to the senior operations officers.

Myrtle would be on her break for another fifteen minutes…you had not even realized you had made up your mind before your feet began to carry you back inside, up the stairs into the mercifully still-empty office. Digging out the directory, you found the number for Thorpe Abbotts’ weather office and took a shaky breath as you sank into your chair.

‘Keep it brief, keep it free of classified information. Worst you’ll get is a reprimand.’

The devious, deceptive voice in your mind was a new one, fostered, perhaps, by the rather carefree man you found yourself deeply entangled with, but it was not one you were about to disobey. Lifting the handset of your phone from its cradle, you cleared your throat as the operator answered.

“Norfolk 7315, please.” You tried your best to sound calm and collected as the line clicked and began to ring.

“Phillips.” An unexpected voice answered, and you gulped, knowing Ruth would be less likely to participate in some romantic scheme.

You greeted her in kind, trying to ignore the ache of loneliness as she gasped softly.

“I was hoping you might pass along a message for me?”

“To a certain Major?” You could hear the grin in her voice and felt the pressure on your chest ease.

“Indeed. October 8. I will arrange accommodations.”

“Your line should he need to reach you?”

Hesitating a moment, you ultimately decided to provide it as well, wanting to ensure he could in fact contact you if something came up. Or perhaps any of them could – should the worst happen.

‘Don’t think about that.’ You chastised yourself internally.

“You’re well?” Ruth asked and you smiled softly.

“I am, please tell everyone I miss them terribly.”

“Will do, have to go.”

There was a ‘click’ as she hung up and the line went dead but the lightness in your heart could not be extinguished.

Nine days later you found yourself waiting on the platform at Liverpool Street station awaiting the arrival of Bucky’s train from East Anglia. Given the proximity of High Wycombe to London, you had arrived much earlier that morning and checked into the hotel already, dropping off your small bag and come to wait for his train – well you assumed he’d be on the first train of the day, but as the carriages disgorged a sea of humanity and you had yet to spot him, your brows began to furrow in doubt.

You were about to fish the folded schedule you had picked up from the ticket counter to check the next arrival time when he was suddenly wrapping an arm around you, pulling you tight into his chest as you gasped softly in surprise.

“There you are doll.” Bucky sighed, dropping his bag at your feet to slide the other arm around you as he pulled back to nudge your cap out of the way and deliver a breathtakingly thorough kiss that you were not entirely sure was appropriate for the public setting you were in.

Not that you stopped him, you own arms snaking about his midsection to cling to him tightly.

Pulling back, his eyes raked over your features lovingly as you both inhaled deeply to fill your greedy lungs.

“Well, well 1st Lieutenant.” He smirked proudly as he lifted his hand to stroke the chrome insignia you now wore on your lapels courtesy of your promotion, leaving smudges of his thumb print.

“You are leaving my uniform in disarray, Major.” You chided playfully, unable to hold back you grin, even for a moment, to sell the joke.

His forefinger hooked behind the knot in your tie, tugging it out from beneath your jacket and pulling you closer – eliminating the last few inches of space that remained between your bodies.

“Good.” He rumbled against your lips before kissing you deeply, severely undermining the infrastructure of your knees.

The loud racket of the train cars as they shunted into one another jolted the pair of you apart, making you realize you were among the last few remaining on the platform as the now empty train left the station.

“Let’s get you checked in and your bag dropped off.” You murmured, clearing your throat as you unbuttoned your uniform jacket to straighten and re-secure your tie.

His hand slid into yours as the pair of you made your way out of the station and he happily followed you to a hotel you’d found near his station, knowing that he’d be here longer than you and it would be easier for him to find his way back to base this way. Sitting patiently in the lobby as he checked in and ran his bag up, you smiled as he returned to hold his hands out to you.

“C’mon doll, I have a whole plan.”

Taking his hands, you rose to your feet, raising your eyebrows curiously. “A whole plan?”

He leaned in to murmur against your ear, “you’re not the only one involved in planning you know.”

You pulled back quickly, eyes wide with a touch of panic. You were quite certain you had never told him just what your new position entailed, and there was no way he could simply guess it.

“Easy doll, your phone line.” He winked as he maneuvered your arm through his, turning to lead you out the front door.

Slowly exhaling, it clicked into place. Of course. Just as you were able to find Vi’s desk number in a directory, it seemed Bucky had been doing a little research of his own.

“Well, shhh.” You chastened him firmly, laying a finger over your lips, looking very much like an anti-slander campaign poster.

His hearty laugh in response did little to convince you that he took in the message.

“Now, how do we get to Hyde Park…” He murmured, pulling a crumpled leave guide out of his pocket.

“The underground.” You answered easily, leading him back towards the very station he had arrived at but this time down to the tube station entrance where the pair of you purchased your tickets.

His touch rarely left you – even if he was forced to release your hand, you could feel his palm pressed against your lower back as you made your way through the crowded subterranean space. You were glad to have him with you this time, not particularly a fan of this mode of transportation, but it certainly was an efficient way to get around London. Pressed close together on the train, you took the opportunity to simply gaze at him, basking in his presence after nearly a month apart, not missing the way his mouth ticked up at the corner cockily.

“Missed you too, doll.” He winked and ducked a kiss to your ear before guiding you off the train at your stop – once he had confirmed with you it was indeed your stop.

Blinking your way back into the light of day, you pointed at a directional sign guiding the way to Hyde Park.

“Perfect, now apparently there are…sandwiches!” He crowed and tugged you over to a sandwich truck that seemed quite popular based on the line of waiting patrons.

Your face was starting to hurt, driving home how infrequently you had found the opportunity to smile in his absence, making you squeeze his hand fondly. Bucky looked back to you quickly as he joined the queue.

“You really did plan everything.” You gulped quickly and he beamed proudly.

“Anything for my girl. What kind would you like?” He gestured at the menu written on the side of the truck.

By the time you reached the front of the line, Bucky was able to easily place your order, including two bottles of lemonade, insisting on paying. Opening your utility bag, you carefully packed the lunch away, earning a rather damp and enthusiastic kiss on your cheek as he snatched your hand to continue onto the park.

“May I ask what it is about this park in particular?” You inquired as the pair of you dashed across the road.

“You can ask…” His cheeky reply had you scoffing in return as you entered the canopy of trees, following a path further and further away from the traffic of downtown London.

Plenty of men in uniform seemed to be out, enjoying the nice weather with women on their arms. Women who, unlike you, enjoyed the luxury of being allowed to dress as they chose during their leisure time. It had been one of many reasons that nearly twenty-five percent of women had chosen not to remain enlisted during the transition from the WAAC to the WAC, the army requirement to remain in uniform even when off-duty. In all honesty, you had not really missed your civilian clothes until just then.

Watching the sheer femininity of those women as they swirled about in their colorful fabrics only drove home how drably olive and plainly cut your uniform truly was.

“You’re a million miles away, doll.” Bucky’s voice cut through the dark clouds that had gathered in your mind and you looked to him quickly.

“Sorry Bucky, it’s beautiful here. Like another place entirely.” You offered him a smile but by the way his eyebrow lifted slightly he did not seem to be entirely buying it. “Have the leaves started changing around the base yet?” You tried changing the subject.

He shook his head, releasing your hand to slide his arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer. “Seems everything will happen later here than back home.”

You hummed thoughtfully, glancing ahead and gasping a little at the glimpse of a sizeable body of water that seemed to be filled with rowboats.

“That’s why were here.”

You turned back to him to see a broad grin had overtaken his face and laughed in excitement as it was terribly romantic.

“If I had known, Major Egan, I would have brought my parasol.” You grinned and he snorted, squeezing your hip fondly.

“No need to put on airs, 1st Lieutenant,” he smirked, “the ride will be enjoyable all the same.”

“Bucky!” You hissed sharply, slapping his chest as he laughed deeply, ducking your head slightly as more than a few passersby shot glances your way.

“C’mon doll.” He chuckled and led you over to the booth beside the dock, paying the fee for a thirty-minute rental before the pair of you headed down to climb into one of the waiting row boats.

Setting your heavy bag on the floor, you carefully stepped into the rather unstable watercraft, settling on the passenger’s bench – denoted as such by the ornate ironwork arms. Bucky followed, seated across from you at the oars, his knees nearly brushing against yours, legs too long for so small a boat. Unbuttoning and sliding off his jacket, he tossed it and his cap to you before rolling up his sleeves and began to row the pair of you out onto The Serpentine, you now knew the small lake to be called.

“I trust you know what you’re doing?” You asked as he appeared to easily manage the oars, seeming at ease in the small boat.

“Mostly.” He teased with a wink before laughing at your slightly aghast expression. “Grew up on the shore of Lake Michigan, doll. Boats are like planes to me, easily managed.” He soothed.

It was difficult to decide which view to settle your eyes upon, the verdant green of the still-lush trees, the throng of boats around you, or Bucky working up a remarkably attractive sheen of sweat with his forearms on display as he propelled the rowboat through the water. A feathered fan would have been a very useful tool in that moment, to hide behind or cool yourself down, or perhaps both.

Belatedly, you realized that Bucky had been speaking this whole time – about events back at Thorpe Abbotts. Giving you the update about the people you knew, the trouble Meatball had caused with a farmer down the road, but he trailed off when he realized you were staring once more in dumbfounded silence at him.

“Doll, you’re going to give me a big head if you keep looking at me like that.” He winked as he lifted the oars from the water, letting the water sluice from the blades before tucking them into the boat on either side of you.

“Y…you’re good at that.” You replied lamely and shook your head. “Hungry?” Leaning forward for your bag, which was in all honestly a lot closer to his feet in the floor of the boat, you froze as everything tilted precariously in response to your movements.

Bucky lay a gentle hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Allow me.” Bending down slowly, he scooped up your bag and opened the flap to retrieve your sandwich and lemonade. “It’s sure tight in here, how did you even make this all fit?”

He tugged a little harder on the packet containing your lunch and your eyes widened in horror as, while he was triumphant, he also managed to send the three condoms you had tucked into your bag scattering to the floor of the boat. His eyes followed the distinct, square, paper packets and you could see his throat bob as he swallowed viciously.

“Doll…” His voice came out rough as a gravel road as he slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. “…been doing some planning of your own?”

“‘A WAC is always prepared.’” You quoted in a mortified whisper, struggling against the urge to lunge forward and hide the evidence, knowing it would only send both of you over the side and into the lake.

You watched another swallow ripple down Bucky’s throat before he offered your lunch to you, carefully collecting the offending items and returning them to your bag before he retrieved his own food.

“Would you mind,” He spoke after taking a rather ruthless and oversized bite of his sandwich, words muffled between slices of bread and chicken salad before he swallowed to start over. “Would you mind if, instead of following the rest of my plan, after these thirty minutes are up, I take you back to the hotel?”

Taking a thick swallow of your own, you shook your head slowly as you felt your cheeks heat up at the implications of that invitation. “I would not mind, no.” You clarified breathlessly and he nodded sharply, gesturing for your as-yet-unopened bottle of lemonade.

Handing it back to him, you watched silently as he lined the edge of the cap with the metal plate holding the oarlock in place, popping it off the bottle with one sharp blow of the heel of his palm.

“Thank you.” You murmured quietly as he passed you the opened drink, taking a deep sip as he repeated the process with his own, draining nearly half the bottle in one go.

Tilting your head back to take in the feel of the sun on your face, you slid your cap from your hair, adding it to the pile of his neatly folded items on the bench beside you, continuing to enjoy your picnic on the lake.

“You heard about Dye hitting twenty-five?” He broke the silence, sounding much more like himself again and you nodded quickly.

“Big news, everywhere in the 8th. Lucky crew all heading home – how did Lil take it?” You tilted your head curiously, raising your bottle to your lips, his eyes following the motion closely.

“Hm? Oh, she’ll be alright…they’re both good at letters.” He nodded, leaning back a little.

You knocked your knee against his affectionately. “Don’t sell yourself short you sweet man, I thoroughly enjoyed yours.”

His eyes flicked to yours quickly as a small smile curled his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded firmly. “Yeah. Promise to give you more to reply to soon, phone was just necessary to make this happen.”

His hand landed on your thigh gently and he squeezed the flesh through your skirt. “Worth it. Just how long are your days though, doll?”

Your fingers played along the empty glass bottle, and you shrugged. “As long as they need to be.” You replied evasively.

“Mm, I’m going to get a better answer out of you than that.” He threatened playfully as he leaned forward to grasp the oar handles, swinging the blades back into the water and taking the pair of you on a loop around the corner of the lake before returning you to the dock.

Bucky climbed out first, taking his cap and jacket before helping you out easily, kissing you firmly as soon as you were on solid ground. “Let’s take a cab…” He breathed impatiently and you laughed, shaking your head.

“The cost would be astronomical, come on.” You affixed your cap on your head as he rolled down his sleeves and slid his jacket back on before the pair of you made your way back to the Underground.

Bucky’s body was practically pressed against yours the entire trip back to Liverpool Street station, seemingly unable to tolerate any form of separation. As you neared the hotel though, you looked to him slowly. “We should go in as colleagues…I booked us that way.”

He looked at you utterly confused, and you swallowed.

“We’re unwed, there was no way I could book us here together, and they will be none to please if they realize I’ve tricked them. I’ll get my key, you get yours, I’ll come to your room…”

He nodded slowly, arm reluctantly unwinding from around your waist before holding the door open for you to step inside.

“Thank you, Major.” You nodded, sliding your cap from your head as you stepped inside, heading to the counter to fetch your room key as he did the same, the pair of you walking up the stairs to the fifth floor together before parting ways so you could fetch your small overnight bag.

It was rather a waste of money, to book a room knowing you would most likely never sleep in it, but such things were necessary for women like you. Women who chose to go to bed with a man they were not married to in the long light of the afternoon. Taking a steadying breath, you left the perfectly made bed behind, walking down the hall to Bucky’s room and knocking on the door softly.

It promptly swung open to reveal a smiling Bucky, his jacket and cap long gone, along with his necktie, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter his much larger room with a small brown paper wrapped packet clasped in his hand. Once the door was closed behind you, you let out the laugh you had been holding.

“I did book this under Major John Egan, I suppose they felt the need to give you a nicer room than a Lieutenant.”

He smirked and kissed your cheek, taking your cap and bag from your hand, then pressing the package into it. “Before I forget, again.”

“Bucky you didn’t have to get me anything, you came to see me…”

“Open it.” His eyes danced with anticipation, and you began to pull at the piece of twine holding the package closed, unfolding the utilitarian paper to reveal a brand-new pair of stockings.

You let out an audible gasp as your jaw fairly fell to the floor.

“To replace the pair that got wrecked when you fell.” He smiled, obviously pleased by your reaction.

“How on earth did you…?!” You trailed off, staring up at him in wonderment.

“A man never reveals his secrets, doll.” He grinned and let out a grunt as you launched yourself into his arms, kissing him fiercely at the thoughtfulness of his gift and in recognition of the sheer determination it must have taken to achieve such a feat in rationed England.

His fingers gently plied the items from your grasp, setting them on the bedside table, freeing your hands to latch onto his arms as he cupped your face gently.

“You sure about this, my beautiful girl?” He whispered and your breath hitched in your throat at the tender look on his face just inches from yours.

“Yes.” You nodded quickly, sliding your fingers into his hair to pull his lips back to yours greedily.

A pleased noise rolled from his throat and across your tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, his fingers shifting to make steady work at the buttons on your jacket before he unwound your hands from his dark curls to slide the garment off, tossing it in the general direction of the chair that held his. You could not help the giggle that bubbled up from your chest at that as you moved to undo the buttons of his shirt one by one.

The tug of his teeth on your lower lip quickly transformed your laughter to shuddering breath as you held tightly to the open sides of his shirt, feeling him tug your tie free from your collar before it joined the pile of clothes somewhere on the plush blue carpet of the hotel room floor. Your shirt and skirt were quick to join it, leaving you in your brassiere and slip, garter belt and underwear still hidden from view.

“You have a remarkable number of layers on, doll.” He huffed as his mouth descended along your throat to suck at the crook of your shoulder, installing a dramatic curve in your spine as you arched against him wantonly with a half-swallowed cry of pleasure.

“Y…you have almost as many…” You protested, tugging the ends of his shirt from his trousers before pushing it from his shoulders only to be met with his undershirt.

The sheer broadness of him had never quite been so very apparent and had you licking your lips as you struggled with the last barrier between you and his torso, your ID tags rasping metallically against his.

“Not nearly as complicated though.” He muttered as his fingers worked at the hook and eye closure of your bra until you felt the band go slack and he leaned back to slide the straps down your arms, making you shiver as your breasts were revealed to his hungry gaze.

Bucky’s heavy exhale fluttered against your collarbone, grown cool by the time it traversed the distance between you, and you shuddered slightly, looking to the side shyly. He leaned in to brush his nose against yours tenderly, pecking your lips.

“Whatcha hiding for, gorgeous?” His tone was gentle and had your eyes slowly sliding to meet his, an action he rewarded with a deep kiss.

He continued to distract you with repeated meetings your lips, each time with growing intensity as his palms slid upwards along your sides to cup your breasts. The meeting of flesh had you inhaling sharply through your nose, hands seeking anchor as your fingers twisted into his beltloops where his trousers hung open around his hips – yet again delaying you in your purpose of undressing him. As his thumbs honed in on your sensitive peaks, Bucky elicited all manner of noises from your throat only to eagerly devour them.

“D’ya have any idea how soft you are doll?” He sighed against your lips as he kneaded your tender flesh. “’Cept right here.” He smirked as he tugged at your nipples and you whined his name, pressing impossibly close against him, realizing he was anything but soft.

Your shimmies and writhes against him seemed to serve as a reminder of the greater purpose at hand and Bucky’s fingers ceased their torment, sliding down to your hips to divest you of your slip before beginning to work at your stockings. Toeing off your shoes, you pushed his trousers from his hips, letting gravity do the rest.

“So many hooks and straps and loops…” He muttered as his mouth dipped to the hollow of your throat, though his fingers seemed more than capable of stripping you down to only your underwear.

Seizing your hips, Bucky guided you back onto the bed, and you could not help the sigh at that flew from your mouth at the feel of a real mattress with springs and a duvet, drawing a broad grin across his face as he crawled over you, coaxing you to lay back.

“Precious women like you should always have luxurious beds like these. None of those stinking Army cots…” His hands slid beneath your spine to half guide, half drag you up to rest on the obnoxious mountain of pillows.

Staring up at him in awe, at a complete loss for words, you settled on pressing up onto your elbows to kiss him firmly, hoping to convey your appreciation physically rather than trying to summon speech. As his lips parted from yours to begin sliding down your body, you let out a slight huff of annoyance, earning a chuckle against your collarbone which rumbled through his chest and into your body. He lifted his head slightly as his fingers wove through the ball chain of your ID tags as he seemed to notice them for the first time.

“I always wondered if you ladies had these.”

You bit your lip to smother your grin as he never hesitated to say what was on his mind, a constant stream of commentary on the world around him, and rather than annoying, you found it utterly adorable.

“Are you laughin’ at me, doll?” He smirked and gave a gentle tug, pulling a genuine laugh from you, to which he responded with a brilliant grin. “Alright then, I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He bowed his head to drag the flat of his tongue across your nipple, your resulting whimper bouncing off the walls as he resumed his teasing of your opposite breast.

“B…Bucky…” Your eyes shot wide as his plush lips sealed around that tender peak, applying a positively euphoric suction that had you burying your fingers in his hair and pressing your body closer to his mouth in silent demand.

With careful precision, his knee slid its way between your thighs, applying coaxing pressure to each in turn until you provided enough room for him to settle between them. The feeling of his hard length slotting against your core with only the thin barrier of your underwear separating your intimate flesh had your jaw dropping open in a silent ‘oh’ – a revelation unto itself despite all the experiences you had enjoyed with him thus far. Undulating your hips against his experimentally, you shuddered at the ragged, abbreviated groan he pressed against your sternum, caught in the midst of traversing your chest. Thoroughly encouraged, you repeated the action, savagely gnawing on your lip as he bit off a curse before his mouth reached its destination and laved at your neglected nipple.

Nestling tighter against you, Bucky began to roll his hips against you in earnest, obliterating your ability to think and scheme against him at the blinding pleasure his combined actions induced. You could feel the smug angle of his lips against your abdomen as his mouth was trailing lower on your body, his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear to peel it from your body. Shifting back to free the interfering item from your legs, he gazed down at you with almost black eyes, his pupils having nearly devoured his irises in his arousal, before stretching forward onto his stomach.

Blinking rapidly, you raised up on your elbows to watch him hoist one of your legs over a strong shoulder and then the other, shuffling embarrassingly close to the apex of your thighs.

“Bucky?” You squeaked hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow up at you, his pink tongue darting out the wet his lips, nearly matching the flush that had painted its way across his cheeks and down his neck. “Yes, doll?”

“What…” You swallowed thickly as your throat clenched erratically.

“Making good on a promise.” He replied seriously before stretching forward to deliver a thorough kiss to your folds that fairly sucked the air from your lungs, an odd whistling sound echoing through you as you savagely burrowed your fingers into the bedding.

When his tongue narrowed in on that sensitive bundle of nerves, it was your turn to bite off a curse, slumping back onto the pillows as he hummed against you in what was surely mock sympathy as he most certainly did not let up, his efforts only doubling. As your hips began to jerk and writhe, he slung a heavy forearm across your pelvis to pin you in place, only shifting closer and tracing his forefinger around your entrance teasingly. It was all you could do not to kick and wail as you felt yourself becoming embarrassingly slick, the noises he was making growing ever so obscene and filling the hotel room.

“Fuck!” You whined against your palm as his finger finally sunk into your wet heat, its passage remarkably eased by your arousal, hips bucking hard enough to jar his arm slightly.

“Damn you’re delicious, doll.” He growled against you, lips smacking loudly as he began to suck at your pearl, finger working you open enough to add a second before beginning a demanding rhythm.

“Oh…oh...god…” You cried out in agony, too far gone to remember your desire to be quiet, feeling the tension of pending release growing ever closer under his amorous onslaught.

“I know, I know…” He soothed, only quickening his pace, hooking his fingers towards the front of your body, sending your back into a dramatic curve from the mattress, a tortured moan ripping from your throat. “Oh, I have to see that again.” He rasped and sought that precise spot with a ruthless single-minded precision until he was rewarded with not only the same reaction, but your strangled cry as your orgasm slammed into you with breath-taking force.

As you returned to earth from your visit to the celestial plane, the first sensation you became aware of was tender, damp kisses being pressed to your inner thigh as Bucky murmured soft words of encouragement to you.

“There’s my gorgeous girl, holy hell that was incredible, did you enjoy that half as much as I did?”

You managed a wordless noise in the affirmative that summoned him to your side, his lips feathering kisses up your jaw to your ear, the tickle of his moustache making you laugh breathlessly.

“Good?” He murmured and you nodded quickly, turning to look at his still-expectant face.

“Yes.” You cobbled together a verbal response, and he blessed you with a warm smile which you leaned in to press your lips against in gratitude.

“Good.” He swiped his tongue along your lips before suddenly slipping from the bed, making you raise your head in confusion.

Stalking over to find your utility bag amongst the sea of discard items and clothing, he proudly retrieved the three condoms that had announced your hopes and intentions for you by appearing in the rowboat, unceremoniously shucking off his boxers as he made his way back to you. You had held his length before, stroked it to completion, but that paled in comparison to seeing the full expanse of him in the light of day.

“My gorgeous doll, you might not say a lot, but you sure don’t mind looking at what you like.” He smirked unabashedly as he set two of the paper packets on the night table beside you, unwrapping the third to unroll the protective latex onto his cock.

Rather than letting his teasing words dissuade you, though they did cause your teeth to sink into your lower lip, you chose to allow your eyes to linger on his actions, rather fascinated by the whole process. By the male anatomy as well. Task managed, he was climbing over you once more, blocking the golden light of afternoon that was filtering in through the windows with his body, warmth radiating from his skin. He settled easily between your legs once more, still parted from his early activities as you really had not summoned the wherewithal to move yet, and stroked his length through the lingering slick gathered along your folds.

A broken sigh fell from his lips before they clashed with yours, not quite aligned, but the sentiment was still there, body shuddering as you slid your arms around him to cling to his shoulders. It was difficult to tell just whom Bucky was teasing as he continued to rut against you, the tip of his cock brushing against your overly-sensitive bundle of nerves, both of you huffing through your nostrils until at last he began to sink into you.

Tearing your lips from his, you sucked in gasping breaths at the feel of the foreign intrusion, appreciating the fact that his pace seemed to slow in response to that. Appreciating the pause he afforded you when his pelvis slotted snuggly against yours once he was seated fully inside you. Cracking open your clenched eyes, you gulped tightly as they were immediately met by Bucky’s, crowned by a furrowed brow, but flicking over your features studiously as if awaiting your instruction.

“I’m ok.” You breathed and he nodded, immediately seizing your lips in a kiss once more as he rocked forward, earning a ragged moan as your fingertips dug into the skin of his back.

His familiarity with this sort of activity had always been apparent, but was exceptionally obvious now as he slowly began the rhythmic push and pull to drive you both towards climax. The sheer intimacy of it was too much and yet it was not nearly enough, your body craving ever more, ever faster, with increasing desperation. The rare moments that Bucky’s lips were not on yours, they were filling the room with choked-off moans or statements of the filthiest order.

“God doll, you feel so fucking good around me.”

“So tight. I can feel how wet you are too, even with this rubber on.”

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t ya? You’re gripping on me like a…fuck I can’t think when you do that…”

His ability to even speak while experiencing such mind-numbing pleasure, rambling though it was, was fairly awe-inspiring. Your responses were limited to moans and whimpers and cries of his name as his supposition was correct – your orgasm was indeed imminent. All it took was the solicitous stroking of his forefinger against the apex of your pleasure to send you flying over the cliff into paradise, clinging to his body as you cried out in ecstasy.

A string of rasped curses mixed in with several sighs of your name heralded his release as Bucky finished not long after, rocking against you sloppily before sinking down onto your chest with a comforting heaviness. Stroking his back tenderly as he nestled into your neck, you grinned stupidly at the ceiling as you felt quite pleased with your choices.

The pair of you made good use of the rest of the condoms you had brought, with a short break for a meal Bucky procured while you took a bath. He returned with a bottle of brandy as well, finding you still in the bathtub. A lot of water ended up on the floor, a pile of water-logged towels your testament to the attempted clean-up. Eating in bed, you shared stories of your childhoods – Bucky’s about growing up on the shores of Lake Michigan, yours of the small two-storey house with its screen door and front porch from which you had watched your brother play with the neighbourhood boys.

You fell asleep in one another’s arms after the final condom was disposed of, the sun long set, but awoke sometime in the night to the unsettling sound of an air raid siren. Not as common in 1943, yet being as close as you were to Canary Wharves, the Luftwaffe still made the occasional bomb run. Startled to find the bed empty, you sat up sharply to see Bucky sitting in front of the window, completely naked, intermittently illuminated by the flashes of distant explosions and anti-aircraft fire.

“Sorry doll, didn’t mean to wake ya.” He muttered and you shook your head, sliding to the end of the bed.

“You ok?” You tilted your head, blinking into a particularly bright flash.

“Hmmm…” He replied noncommittally, turning back to the scene before him with a frown. “I’ve dropped a lot of those. Done a lot of killing.”

Swallowing tightly, you slid to your feet despite the way your heart was pounding in your throat, padding across the carpet towards him.

“Done your job, Bucky. Done what was asked of you.” You assured him, coming to stand behind him, setting your hands on his shoulders.

“If there’s any balance to all this, my ticket was punched a long time ago.” He muttered sullenly and it was your turn to frown.

Bending down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, you stepped in front of him to block his view, perhaps, hopefully, to block his darker thoughts as you shifted to sit on his thighs.

“Whatcha doin’ doll?” He quirked an eyebrow, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your fingers slid between your bodies to gently stroke his length.

“Lightening up.” You replied, invoking the words of your dead brother’s inscription.

It was impossible to think of a more important piece of advice or a more importance source in that moment. A young man who would never get the chance to spend one more time in his lover’s arms, who knew you better than anyone in the entire world. And you were most certainly going to follow it. You had to be up in less than three hours, to catch the first train to High Wycombe, and you would not pass up this moment with Bucky. The future was unknowable, your brother’s death had certainly taught you that.

Bucky’s fingers curled into your hips as his mouth descended onto yours greedily, clearly in agreement with your plan, despite the lack of remaining condoms. Shuffling closer, you guided his now fully hard cock into your body, your soft noises of pleasure colliding with his in the space between your parted lips. Working together, with plenty of guidance from his firm grip, you began to rocking your hips, using his shoulders for leverage. His head fell back to stare up at you in awe, jaw slack, adam’s apple bobbing viciously.

“Christ, I love you…” His face betrayed such vulnerability, lips trembling slightly, that you quickly lifted your hands to cradle his cheeks, even as your lashes grew suddenly damp.

“I love you too, John. So much.” You replied thickly, rather resenting the dramatic wobble in your voice.

The tiniest of smiles pulled at his lips before his face grew serious once more and he lunged forward to kiss you hungrily, hands anchoring your shoulders so he might thrust up into your body with a sudden need. It was all you could do to hang on, though pleasure itself still managed to sweep you away, leaving you only with the vague recognition of him half pulling out mid-release.

It was terribly difficult to leave him in that comfortable, if messy, bed a few hours later. He did not make it easy either, impossible to untangle from your body like an unwieldy piece of seaweed. Yet somehow you managed to make your trains and arrive at your desk at the appointed hour. Focusing on the task at hand with the pleasurable ache between your legs was altogether another challenge, forcing you to sit on first one hip and then the other.

You had just returned after the lunch break when your phone rang, your greeting barely out of your mouth before Bucky’s question came down the line.

“Did you know you know where they played yesterday’s match?” He asked flatly and it took you several seconds to comprehend that he was speaking in code and just what he was getting at.

You swallowed painfully. “Yes, I did sir.”

Of course you did, you were in the room on Thursday night when they had chosen Bremen as the target for yesterday’s mission.

“A lot of our best players struck out, you know. Buck included.”

He sounded utterly unlike himself, cold and distant, not the man you had left just hours ago in that hotel room in London. All the same, your heart broke for him, and for yourself too. You liked Major Cleven – this war was nothing but cruel.

“I’m so sorry B-Major Egan.” You corrected yourself quickly, eyeing Myrtle across the room.

“Well I hope you all pick a better field for tomorrow’s match because I’m pitching.”

You opened your mouth to reply as your heart dropped through the floor, but the sound of the handset slamming into the cradle resounded over the line before it went dead, giving you no opportunity to speak. To wish him luck or, heaven forfend, goodbye. You hung up your phone with a slightly shaking hand as a deep sense of dread threaded its way through your stomach.

-------------------------

Read Part Five - "I Trusted You!"

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp, @mads-weasley, @xxanaduwrites, @bcon24, @fxxiva, @slowsweetlove, @hockeyboysarehot, @darylas

[punkeropercyjackson]

I really resent the idea Hobie isn't traumatized or has no mental health problems/emotional issues because he's so clearly an allegory for the adultification of black kids(and therefore actually one)like how Gwen is obviously an allegory for trans girls(and therefore actually one).The most you'll get out of Atsv fans on it is 'he grew up too fast' but they never go in depth into how much it must've hurt him and who hurt him.Society as a whole,no duh,but in the comics,he's implied to be an orphan and the only incarnations we have of his parents are his dad abandoning him as a baby and his mom turning abusive over it.That's what adultification,objectively,is-Child abuse.Hobie's not 'practically an adult',he is mentally and physically a minor and he was robbed of the right to be one nonstop,systematically.He had to fight for his right to exist,he has to fight for others right to exist and he dosen't really get to rest and just feel like a real kid all that often.Plus,realistically,Hobie isn't looked on positively in his world and that would do damage to anybody's self-eestem as a highly profilic public figure but especially to a black child and while he's the coolest ever the whole time,i can't buy he's always known that and i'll bet he was told the opposite by other kids growing up and how socially awkward he is sometimes makes me think his number of friends wasn't all that high and a common experience amongst alt/punk black kids is isolation and bullying from other children for being 'weird' and there's the confirmation he used to be homeless before his houseboat so the orphan status seems to be carried over to this take on him too

I know he wasn't onscreen for as long as Gwen so i don't fault people for not recognizing this and focusing moreso on her explicit traumatic experiences,moreover since it tends to involve him comforting her and i'm a sucker for troubled kid solidarity and romance,most of all since this one is canonically t4t and possibly transmasc4transfem specifically and even punk4punk too instead of them 'he was a punk,she did ballet' poserpills

Still,lack of screentime never stopped anyone for making up tons of tragic aus for Pavitr and even The Spot and erasing Jefferson and Rio to do with them Miles too as if Miles G dosen't exist and pulled it off infinitely better than any fanon alternative universe Miles i've ever encountered.This is going to get some people tweaking too but this is also exactly why i hate No.irpunk and even the platonic concept of Hobie instantly respecting Noir.Hobie has much more street cred than Noir and way heavier trauma and Noir isn't even punk-He's an antifa but punk is a culture,not just an ideology and i find it an unearned superiority complex N/H shippers will disregard Hobie's actual romantic chemistry with Gwen based on her loving him for who he is and giving somebody to bond over mutual interests with and heal his inner child in the process to say he should be a freedom fighter and nothing more,as if he's not a 17 year old black boy and Noir very,VERY likely a middle aged white man who's culture(not punk)(judaism)is against pedophillic relathionships as a religious rule.There's no evidence for Hobie being an adult but there's plenty borderline text saying he's an adultified black teenager and i wish it was spoken on instead of performative 'lmao fuck captalism' jokes as you buy official Atsv merch and stereotyped sexualization over a character who never got to grow up,not as a 'real kid' nor enough to be in the proper headspace to explore his sexuality as openly as a normal teen

[frameacloud]

Page number 6 of Theri There, from October 3, 2005. The image description is in the alt text.

First page | Previous page | Next page

Note from 2005: This is a short introduction to phantom limbs of therianthropes. There is much more to say about them, whether the best known kind (felt by people who have had amputations) as shown in panel 1, or the kind experienced by therianthropes. Panel 4 was suggested by a phoenix who wishes to remain anonymous. Panel 6 was suggested by a friend who had it happen as shown, and I’ve heard very few anecdotes about a paranormal phenomenon of that kind.

Note from 2015: Several folks have asked me about the phrase “phantom limbs,” which I used in my old Theri There comics. In 2005, that was the only name therians gave to that experience of theirs. Now, readers were concerned that it might be wrong to use that name for that experience. It’s a sensitive issue, but it’s also important to address, so I wrote a long blog entry about it.

Note from 2023: I updated the link to that blog entry with some new commentary that I wrote today. For another thing, back when I drew this page, I thought of phantom limbs as a paranormal phenomenon. That fit with how my worldview used to embrace the paranormal. My personal worldview has changed and become generally more skeptical as I've continued to ask questions and learn. I still acknowledge that part of the range of these experiences are ones that are strange and difficult to explain.

Here’s the DreamWidth discussion forum for this page.

[linnaealyn]

Old mod page, abandoned 3/2/24; New mod page @ Godsibb

Finally, after 2 years of work, it is complete. -But still being updated.

There's a Japanese version of the mod now!

今は日本語版のMODがある！

This is a mod for Xenogears using Retroarch's Beetle PSX HW core real-time texture replacement feature. (It requires the Vulkan driver, so make sure your graphics card supports that.) (Duckstation doesn't have a similar option, unfortunately.)

It replaces every single character dialogue portrait, menu portrait, & (almost every) battle portrait (looking at you, Yggdra officer Gear pilots) with high quality, cleaned up artwork, as well as recreated high quality UI while keeping it as close to the original game as possible.

And best thing about it is, if there's anything you don't like about it, like certain aspects of the UI, you can locate and delete that file from the folder. Everything is optional. (if you have any questions as to what's what, drop them into my dms)

Current version: 1.4

現在の日本語版: 1.4

(More screenshots below download info and UI changes.)

Being a real-time texture replacer, it should work with any English version of XG, both base-game and modded/patched. Any fan-translated patch using the US version as a base should display correctly.

There's a separate version for the Japanese version of the game. May need some editing still with other characters' UI ("Ether"/"Spells"/"Arcane"/etc) but for the most part its good to go in terms of battle UI. Let me know if you find any errors.

(I've been using it with the Perfect Works Build mod. Highly recommended!)

(Note!!: If you use PWB mod, don't use its "readjusted portraits" patch when patching your rom, as that patch interferes with this mod's portraits texture replacing.)

(It works on Steam Deck... but don't ask me for details in setting that up in particular, I don't own one 😅)

~~~

Download/ダウンロード

I recommend reading the instructions txt files I included in the DL.

This includes information such as how to set up .cue and .m3u files, swapping discs, renaming the texture folder, Retroarch settings and Beetle PSX HW Core settings to get the mod working, settings suggestions for making a cleaner looking and faster playing XG (YMMV), and settings to fix certain emulation issues Ive come across (freezing on fast-forward, crackling audio during 3D/effects-heavy cutscenes/gameplay, blank screen during Rico flashback, etc).

~~~~~~~~~~

-Changes made to the UI include:

Menu UI:

selection triangle, Walk/Gear icons

menu portraits

▲ ■ ● ✖ button DeathBlow menu icons

ABXY button DeathBlow menu icon- alternate textures

Battle UI and on-foot specific battle UI:

Circular battle palette and tags behind text

Battle palette text, "Combo", "Return", "Enter", "Miss", "EP", & HP/DMG/heal/AP numbers

HP/AP bars

"Time", "fuel", "total damage", AP numbers, "1/2/3 point(s)", "cancel end"

battle portraits

▲ ■ ● ✖ button DeathBlow icons

ABXY button Deathblow icons- alternate textures

Bottom screen mid-DeathBlow ▲ ■ ✖ icons (unfortunately, there's no way to change the other mid-DB quadruple-button icons)

Combo 1-7 and Accept icons

In-Gear specific battle UI:

"fuel" and fuel numbers

"Fuel" (when using boost)

fuel bars (top and left)

All Gear status menus' green text/numbers

Attack level numbers and ∞

Gear menu backgrounds

Gear "power shut down", "camera damaged", "out of fuel", etc, statuses

background UI elements, runes, triple red triangles, Gear lock-on UI (unfortunately, there's no way to change the circular part of this UI)

Misc UI changes:

Red/grey spheres (in the menu and loading screen)

All instances of selection diamonds, both horizontal and vertical

Load/save screen "CARD 1"/"2" text, memory card icon, load/save bar/text

Disc 1 and 2 maps (with alternate color versions; makes the enterable area indicators harder to see though)

NESW compass letters (unfortunately, there's no way to change the circular compass texture)

~~~~~

-Screenshots (before & after and alts):

And Japanese version's (日本語版) UI:

⬇!!Spoilers in images further down!!⬇

--

I won't be showing all portraits here; only the ones worth mentioning.

Portraits created for the mod that have no artwork equivalent:

Portraits to match their sprites vs official unedited artwork:

(default on left, alt on right)

Roni/Medena/Erich edited sprite equivalent vs their official PW art

Citan edited unsmiling (dialogue-only) sprite equivalent vs official smiling art)

Krelian(s) edited sprite equivalent vs official art

Portrait alts created for fun:

Both sides of scar-eyed Bart

Two-eyed Bart

Kim lab coat with glasses

Fei-colored Id

Fei-colored Id with Id's yellow eyes

Fei-colored young & older Emeralda

(might add to this list later. have any suggestions? fun ideas? lmk. It doesn't have to be canon-compliant.)

Screenshots of alt portraits in-use:

I'll continue to update this and subsequently reblog it as new versions are released.

With any new updates, just DL and replace/overwrite the old folder.

In-progress tumblr post of the past as a bit of a time capsule for myself 😄

[live-emotion]

Live Emotion Management Letter

The official twitter account has released a letter from the Live Emotion management team. Thank you management team!

To help spread their message further, I have translated and edited a graphic for an English version of this letter. Please keep in mind I'm not a translator, so there may be some inaccuracies, and we don't know the official translation of some terms (Eg. Emotional Piece/Peace).

You may share these images if: - The credit remains in the image. - You also credit me as the original poster somewhere in text, or direct here to see the original post when you share them. - You do not claim or imply that these are any kind of official English translation by the management team!

Full translation text in alt text and below read more.

[Image 1 ID]

“UTA NO PRINCE-SAMA LIVE EMOTION” - MANAGEMENT LETTER.

Nice to meet you, everyone, This is the management team of “Uta no Prince-sama LIVE EMOTION”. As the release date approaches, we have issued a management letter. Today, we would like to tell you about the app prior to its release.

"Uta no Prince-sama LIVE EMOTION" is an app that focuses on adding color to the daily lives of idols and everyone. “I want to enjoy the music.” “I want to enjoy it as a fan.” “I want to go back to basics and have fun.” etc. We create products that can be enjoyed by a variety of play styles.

In preparation for release, we are also brushing up the content shown in the game introduction videos that we posted recently. This time, I would like to share with you some information that could not be covered in the game introduction videos alone.

LIVE (RHYTHM GAME): There are four levels of difficulty, and the number of lanes and notes will change depending on the difficulty level. You can also customise the speed of notes, turn off live MV, swap to still background display, change screen brightness, etc.

HOME/TALK: Up to 4 idols can be invited to the home screen, and you can look around the left and right sides of the room with a swipe. Pressing and holding an idol on the home screen will transition to a talk screen.

[Image 2 ID]

“UTA NO PRINCE-SAMA LIVE EMOTION” - MANAGEMENT LETTER.

STORY: There are two types of stories: one from a composer's perspective, and one from other perspectives. Private stories will be developed from the former perspective, while main stories, emotional pieces, and event stories will be in the latter perspective.

EMOTIONAL PIECE: Emotional Pieces can be obtained from piece gacha and events. You can level them up using items obtained in the rhythm games. By training them, you will unlock stories, costumes, voices, etc. The unlocked voices can then be enjoyed through home and talk screens.

MINIPRI: You can allocate up to 3 MiniPri per room. In addition to interiors that are permanently available, we also plan to develop interior series that can be exchanged for a limited time only.

The entire management team is working hard to create an app that is not only enjoyable to existing Uta no Prince-sama fans, but also aims to attract even more people to the joy of Uta no Prince-sama.

Thank you for your continued support of “Uta no Prince-sama LIVE EMOTION”.

May 12, 2024.

Additional text added by me at the bottom of each image reads: "This is NOT an official English language release. Unofficial English graphic by @Live-Emotion (tumblr). Original Japanese can be found @utapri_LE (Twitter)."

[End of image ID]

[justice-flonne]

Twitter and the death of Media Literacy

As the original post now has reblogs turned off before this post came out of the queue, looks like I have to make my own

Lemme tackle picture number 2 first. Number one, what the HELL do you mean "normal mentally ill [woman]"?? There's no such thing. There's not even such a thing as normal non-mentally ill. Everyone is different and has different reactions and symptoms. and number two: where the fuck do you get off calling the author a sex pest for the "crime" of exploring her options in brothels (well, i guess maybe it is a crime, i forget how japan's laws are, but still. i better not hear you demanding more rights for sex workers while indirectly demeaning their jobs, ya nitwit)? Being gay (or even just non-conforming, and that's not even just about gender) in Japan, while not as bad as say, the Middle East, is not exactly a walk in the park. She probably at the time of writing didn't have many options, and everybody explores their sexuality in different ways. It's really messed up that you're calling the author a sex pest for describing her life, especially since she did nothing wrong (as in, her encounters were all consensual. again, don't fully know the laws regarding brothels there. i think it's a "we'll pretend we didn't see that" scenario)

This also kinda ties into the downright dangerous idea that an lgbt+ person, lesbians especially, can only be an innocent pure being. that kind of thinking can and HAS gotten people into horrible abuse scenarios

As for the "incest"... whoo boy, this is gonna be long:

Now, I have actually read this manga, and I can cite the pages with the supposed "incest" mentioned in the first pic. I'd elaborate, but I'm admittedly quite bad at that, so I'll let the comic speak for itself:

(forgive me if there's any errors in the alt text. it's late 😭)

As you can see, the author does not LITERALLY want to fuck her mother. She has childhood issues from not enough affection (elaborated elsewhere in the book, but I'm tired. read it yourself. i got these pages from a definitely legal website, so can you), and wants to be held and coddled. She even straight up says what she feels is abnormal and yearns for a woman NOT RELATED TO HER to do things with. She KNOWS what she feels is strange and wants to (and eventually DOES) grow from this. I could post more images, but i'm probably pushing my luck as is

Point is, you "adults" really, REALLY need to learn that depiction is not the same as endorsement. Not everything is as cut and dry as the Marquis de Sade. This is, as the damn title says, the author's experience with loneliness as a result of growing up with an emotionally distant mother in a society that is markedly different than America

please, PLEASE, learn to think critically, and i mean "critical" in a "english class analysis" kind of way (for lack of a better term), not a "this thing you like is bad and it offends me" "critical." It's alright to be uncomfortable with things and even to not like things, hell I myself am a HUGE hater, but please, don't throw a tantrum because a real person wasn't a smol bean like you hoped

holy shit i need to go to bed

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Lumchagg

Another one that's immediately recognizable if you spot its most-known characteristic, but I had to keep this one in because I thought it was entertaining that the author was clearly working from two different sources and, rather than try and reconcile the two, apparently just copied two slightly-different accounts and left them like that.

If you're not sure what I'm talking about, you can find an explanation and previous posts at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting. The entry that people are working from this time can be found here:

And here's the one that folks will be drawing this week, if you want to get in on it:

Anyway, art below the cut:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) noted the apparent existence of a larval stage in the second half of the entry, and drew a creature that's part Australian firehawk and part moth. I think this design is extremely cool, and does a good job extrapolating from the ideas of a bird that makes its own funeral pyre and apparently starts life as a larva.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) went kind of a flamingo direction with this one, noting that a purple bird might acquire that coloration from its diet the same way flamingos do, which is cool. I also like the idea that its pyre/container is a silver censer, which is oddly accurate to medieval depictions -- I've definitely seen a couple of medieval images of this bird where its "nest" looks a lot like a fancy bowl. (Also thank you for including alt text.)

@kaerran (link to post here) makes note of a bit of a camera quality issue, but has what I think is a really clever idea. They've chosen to make their Lumchagg quite small, so that their "container" could in fact be the contents of a spice rack. A convenient solution for the modern Lumchagg with a high tolerance for plastic fumes. (Also thank you for including alt text.)

@ectocs (link to post here) has plotted out the lifecycle of a bird-thing that genuinely looks more like a dinosaur than anything, which I like a lot. That is a cool-looking bird. I also like the facial expressions a lot -- maybe it's just my imagination, but that blobby little worm stage seems quite pleased with itself. I strongly recommend clicking on the linked post to see a number of additional doodles and notes from the design process, which are very interesting in my opinion.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has done this drawing in a nice dark purple ink, which is both pleasant and appropriate. The bird looks very cool, and I find the worm quite charming. I also appreciate the detail put into the pyre/nest/whatever here. It's good. I like it.

@pomrania (link to post here) notes that the medieval definition of "bird" is quite flexible, and of course worm and wyrm were more or less interchangeable... so this is a dragon. Entirely fair, I can't argue with that. It's pretty cute, too.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) also gives us a life-cycle drawing, complete with a pupa, which I think is a nice and appropriate touch. They note the ambiguity of the term purple in pre-modern sources, so their Lumchagg has a more general colorful & iridescent look. I really like the parrot-worm-thing in the middle of the tree there.

To the Aberdeen Bestiary:

Yep, that's a bird. Presumably the trees are meant to represent frankincense and myrrh, both of which I believe are made from tree resin. Very good Stylized Trees, naturally. The bird, which kind of just looks like a hawk, also seems to be resting on an invisible perch, presumably because the artist wasn't sure what to do with the legs of a bird in flight.

There's also a second illustration:

That absolutely does not help identification, but I think a majority of participants clocked that this is the phoenix.

A few people noted that they hadn't known that phoenices (phoenixes? you know what, it doesn't matter, there's only one of them at a time anyway) were supposed to be purple. Others commented on the odd note about Arabia and the color purple, speculating as to what purple pigment was being referred to. I am excited to tell you that these two things are linked: the famous Tyrian Purple dye was originally used by... [drum roll]... the Phoenicians.

I actually had to delete a word from the entry before posting, because the original reads:

The phoenix is a bird of Arabia, so called either because its colouring is Phoenician purple, or because there is only one of its kind in the whole world.

The other part of the etymological explanation there is later explained by the assertion (the basis of which I do not know) :

The Arabs call a solitary man phoenix.

Also to be clear, there's not exactly a broad pre-modern consensus about phoenix coloration. Everyone seems to agree that it's brightly colored, but what colors vary widely. (However, it should be noted that "red" and "purple" are both popular options, and moreover that those colors are not always differentiated in older texts.)

It's tempting to say that the frankincense & myrrh is here probably just acting as a Christian resurrection metaphor because the authors are monks, but it is in fact the case that multiple medieval descriptions of the phoenix have it making use of valuable plants, including those. In the Old English Wonders of the East, it builds its nest from cinnamon. Herodotus (who says the phoenix is red and gold) mentions the phoenix using myrrh, but not as a nest or funeral pyre -- each new phoenix embalms the body of the previous phoenix in myrrh to be interred at the Temple of the Sun. Pliny (purple and gold, with a blue tail) has the nest made from cinnamon, incense, and perfumes, and when the little worm grows large enough it carries the nest, along with the remains of its predecessor, to said temple. Neither Herodotus nor Pliny mention the fire thing, interestingly, so I suspect it might have come in later. The Wonders of the East does mention the fire, but it has no opinion on the coloration.

I can feel myself falling into a rabbit hole, so I'm just going to cut this one off here.

[piastrinorris]

Happy to Help

Pairing: Keys x f!Reader Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI) Word count: 3.7k Summary: Forgetting you'd spoken to customer support from your favourite game leads to something getting sent to the wrong person. A/N: Listen, I know there's a set-up for potentially more. I would like to write potentially more. But nothing puts a writer off more than demands for a part 2, okay? For now, enjoy my first ever Keys fic. :)

Welcome to Free City Customer Support. We appreciate your patience. Connecting you to a member of our team…

Keys: Hi there! What seems to be the problem today?

You: hi, my screen is like. frozen dead. can't do anything, can't click anything. can't alt-tab out, can't ctrl-alt-delete. but i made a lot of progress between save points and idk if it can still be salvaged

Keys: Oof, yeah, that's the worst. Hopefully we can get you back up and running. Real quick, are you sure it's not your internet? I mean, you seem like you know your way around a computer, just worth double-checking, if it's your network then there's not a lot I can do.

You: yeah, sorry, should have added that. everything else that connects to my internet is working. i have an error message if that helps?

Keys: Yes! That's amazing! Can you send me it, please?

You: it says "error 72816: attempting patch repair"

You: there was a spinning buffering wheel in the corner but it gave up the ghost about twenty minutes ago.

Keys: Interesting. I don't remember making that error message, let alone what would trigger it. Are you sure that's what it says? No typos?

You: you wound me.

You: jk jk sorry this is a Very Professional Customer Support Exchange. no, definitely no typos.

Keys: Hahaha, don't worry, I've read far worse messages from people today, that made me laugh!

Keys: This is a little unorthodox but I'm wracking my brain here and I can't think of another solution. If I give you my work phone number, would you text me a photo of your screen?

Keys: Usually, I'd ask for an email of a screenshot, but, well…

You: yeah sure, whatever gets me out of this purgatory.

Keys: Super appreciate your patience here. My number is: 

Keys: [redacted]

Keys: Okay, got it, deleted the message with my number so it won't show up in chat history, in case you're wondering. Data protection and all.

You: the professional techie guy with the techie-ass nickname being cautious about cyber security? groundbreaking.

Keys: Haha! You got me there!

Keys: Oh! Wait! Are you registered as a beta tester?

You: no?? i didn't know that was a thing??

Keys: Yeah, all ours are internal and I don't recognise your username in our database, now that I've pulled it up. I think you must have just slipped through the cracks, let me look into the code of our new test area and see if I can boot you back out.

You: ooh, are you gonna come bursting in through my door with a swat team to erase my memory, too?

Keys: I'm just a "professional techie guy" here, not a Man In Black, haha. 

Keys: Hey, I see you!

Keys: In this code, I mean.

Keys: It's showing up that there's an unauthorized player.

Keys: That's what I meant.

You: well yeah, didn't think you were in my walls or anything

Keys: Just making sure! Didn't want you really thinking I was stalking you or anything.

Keys: Still don't remember making that error message, but that's another mystery, I guess.

You: ooh, maybe the game's becoming sentient and it's outgrowing us all!

Keys: There's that imagination again!

Keys: I'm gonna reset your position to your safehouse, hopefully also keeping your progress intact? If this doesn't work then a hard reboot is unfortunately the only other way.

You: you're a doll.

You: AHHHH IT WORKED I'M BACK AND I STILL GOT A SICK ASS BIKE WAITING FOR ME IN MY GARAGE

You: THANK YOU SO MUCH AHHHHHH

Keys: Pleasure's all mine, glad I could help. Please reach out if it happens again! Or if you have any other issues!

You: will do. so long, techie guy. thanks for everything!

Keys: Happy playing!

— — — —

It's been a relatively quiet Friday evening for you. Nobody's made any plans to go out, and you're unsure yourself whether you have the energy to. You've pretty much spent your whole day gaming, so you should probably fill your social battery a little, but do you really want to go to a bar by yourself?

You glance over at your phone and smirk at it. There is that guy you've been talking to… Maybe you'll send him something to spice the night up.

Once you've done your hair and make-up to add to the whole look, you find your cutest set of underwear, put it on and take a couple of selfies until there's one you're especially pleased with. Your muscle memory has you tapping three message contacts down, where he always is since you've been texting friends all day, and sending the photo on autopilot with the message: Hey, you.

You giggle with delight when your phone chimes almost immediately after - you've really got this guy whipped, huh - but are surprised to see you've apparently forgotten who else you texted today.

[8:23pm] Keys: OH

[8:23pm] Keys: OH NO

[8:23pm] Keys: I think

[8:23pm] Keys: You've sent this

[8:24pm] Keys: To the wrong person

[8:24pm] Keys: I'm so sorry I saw that!

[8:25pm] You: that's okay, i don't mind that you saw it. :)

[8:25pm] You: besides, burning the midnight oil, still being at your work phone?! don't they have out of hours customer service?

[8:29pm] Keys: I… Might have lied about this being my work phone. I normally have one, but it's getting fixed so I thought I would get away with saying it was a work line to help you out.

[8:30pm] You: and then i went and accidentally sent you an unsolicited lewd. sorry.

[8:36pm] Keys: It was just a shock, is all!

[8:38pm] You: well, since we're both here, and since you haven't deleted the photo yet despite how quickly you deleted your number from the chat log earlier, *and* how long it's taking you to reply, what do you think?

[8:40pm] Keys: Oh god, you're so right, I'm so sorry, I'll delete it now.

[8:40pm] You: don't!

[8:40pm] You: like i said, i want your feedback on it now.

[8:41pm] Keys: Oh! Well, it's very nice.

[8:41pm] You: nice?! ouuuuch.

[8:42pm] Keys: What do you mean? Nice is a compliment!

[8:43pm] You: yeah, from your grandma when you've given her a birthday card. c'mon, i can take it. tell me what you REALLY think. :)

[8:50pm] Keys: I… I think you're very attractive.

[8:51pm] You: there you go! it's super adorable that you're stammering over text, btw.

[9:01pm] Keys: [image attached]

[9:01pm] Keys: It felt weirdly unbalanced that you at least didn't know what I looked like, too.

[9:02pm] You: well damn, no wonder they call you keys, because you are just my *type!*

[9:02pm] You: get it?

[9:03pm] Keys: …That was cheesy as hell.

[9:03pm] Keys: But I like cheese :]

[9:03pm] You: oh yeah? give me your cheesiest pick-up line 

[9:13pm] Keys: Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you're CuTe!

[9:13pm] You: i award that 🧀🧀🧀/5. you could be cheesier.

[9:19pm] Keys: Okay, fine.

[9:20pm] Keys: Are you Google? Because you have everything I'm searching for.

[9:22pm] You: 🧀🧀🧀🧀. are YOU google because i'm feeling lucky. ultimate cheese has no comeback. c'mon, you're so close.

[9:26pm] Keys: Oof, okay, give me a sec.

[9:28pm] Keys: Although really you should never use Google if you can help it, they already datamine so much information out of you that the less you use any Google product, the safer you are. I use DuckDuckGo myself, but you should really do your own research when it comes to cybersecurity rather than just blindly trust someone, even if they are a professional.

[9:28pm] You: keys.

[9:29pm] Keys: Right. Sorry.

[9:38pm] Keys: If you were a grade, you'd be A+, because I want to take you home and show you to my parents.

[9:39pm] You: okay, that wins. maximum cheese for keys 🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀

[9:39pm] You: next ranking category: 🌶️ 

[9:39pm] You: let's see what you got, hot stuff

[9:45pm] Keys: What?! I can't just send you stuff like that! That's so forward!

[9:46pm] You: keys you've seen my tits

[9:46pm] You: i think we're past that

[9:55pm] Keys: Accidentally!

[9:55pm] You: and all the time you spend scrolling back up to it is "accidental", too?

[9:56pm] Keys: …How could you tell?

[9:57pm] You: every now and then you take a little bit longer between messages. just assuming you're scrolling up lol

[9:56pm] You: like i keep saying. i don't mind at all. you don't have to be shy around me

[9:58pm] Keys: Well, since all my cards are apparently on the table so obviously…

[9:58pm] Keys: Do you work at Subway? Because you just gave me a foot-long.

[9:59pm] You: ????? talk about 0-60! also i think that deserves negative 🌶️ for the psychic damage it caused me to read

[10:00pm] Keys: You just turned my software into hardware.

[10:00pm] You: what happened to "that's so forward", eh?

[10:01pm] You: but, credit where it's due, 🌶️🌶️. normally a 🌶️ but from you it's like a 2.5/5

[10:01pm] Keys: Your outfit would look great on my bedroom floor.

[10:01pm] You: oh

[10:02pm] You: oh my god

[10:02pm] You: oh you sweet boy, you're googling them, aren't you

[10:02pm] You: or whatever you use instead

[10:04pm] Keys: Some of us need the extra help! We're not all as smooth as you.

[10:04pm] You: sure you are, baby, you just need to get comfortable

[10:05pm] Keys: But I'm already on my bed!

[10:05pm] You: not just in that way! try taking something off

[10:06pm] You: and then send me proof 😇

[10:11pm] Keys: [image attached]

[10:11pm] Keys: ;]

[10:12pm] You: taking off your glasses doesn't count, dork!

[10:12pm] Keys: [image attached]

[10:12pm] Keys: like this?

[10:13pm] You: holy fuck

[10:13pm] You: hi you're hot

[10:14pm] Keys: Hahaha, thank you? I still don't feel any more charismatic, though!

[10:15pm] You: well, going back to your line about being like a good grade you wanna take home… does that maybe mean you also want to pin me up on the fridge?

[10:18pm] Keys: Well, the fridge isn't very sturdy. I think I'd rather do that against the wall.

[10:18pm] You: okay now *that’s* hot

[10:18pm] You: and what would you do with me once you'd pinned me to the wall? 

[10:24pm] Keys: I'm not very good at all of the imaginative talk stuff that sounds sexy. Even using the word seems like the total opposite of what I'm trying to do.

[10:25pm] You: not at all, sometimes bluntness is the sexiest thing of all.

[10:29pm] Keys: Well, I'd really like to kiss you. All over, actually. 

[10:29pm] You: *all* over?

[10:31pm] Keys: Yeah. The way you were posing made your neck look amazing.

[10:32pm] Keys: Oh god, now I sound like a vampire

[10:34pm] You: i promise you don't, that was my intention when i took it lol. besides, vampires are sexy as hell. i'd love it if you kissed my neck

[10:34pm] You: would you touch me?

[10:35pm] Keys: Wouldn't I be holding you against the wall?

[10:36pm] You: true, but there's other ways. like, you could put your leg between mine to keep me in place

[10:37pm] You: mmm, and then i could grind against your thigh while you keep this little promise of kissing and touching me *all over*

[10:37pm] You: does that sound good?

[10:41pm] Keys: Oh god yes

[10:43pm] You: and then that leaves my hands free to touch you, too. i wanna play connect the dots with those cute little moles of yours

[10:47pm] Keys: Oh my god

[10:48pm] Keys: that made me want to trace them myself for some reason and that felt so good

[10:49pm] You: you're touching yourself AND not paying attention to grammar anymore? for lil ol' me?

[10:49pm] You: that deserves a reward, i think 

[10:51pm] You: [image attached]

[10:51pm] You: i seem to have lost my bra, come over and help me find it?

[10:58pm] Keys: holy shit 

[10:58pm] Keys: can i just say what i'm thinking and then you can tell me if i'm going to far 

[10:59pm] You: i think you mean *too, nerd boy, but yes, i'd love that

[11:06pm] Keys: sorry typing is getting difficult at the moment

[11:11pm] Keys: i want to hold them so bad. they look amazing, especially with your nipples so hard

[11:11pm] You: when you say typing is difficult, are you touching yourself right now?

[11:12pm] You: because now i'm playing with my nipples and wishing it was you

[11:13pm] You: tell me, baby. you want me to rub them? squeeze them? you wanna come over and suck on them?

[11:17pm] Keys: i want to feel them get hard. want to touch them while i kiss you

[11:17pm] You: attaboy! i knew you had it in you

[11:19pm] You: they're so sensitive now. and humping my pillow as if it’s your leg isn't enough, can i touch myself for you, please?

[11:23pm] Keys: oh god yes please do

[11:23pm] You: are you okay to call? i have a feeling both of us are getting preoccupied now

Your phone lights up with the name "Keys Freecity" and you immediately put it on speaker, letting the phone rest on your pillow next to you. "Well, hey there."

"Uh, hi." His voice is shaking and his breath is hitching.

"You know, you never told me if you were touching yourself or not," you point out.

"I - I am," he stammers out, and you purr back.

"God, I wish I was there to do that for you. Or at least to watch. I bet you look so fucking good right now. What are you thinking about, then, huh?"

"I was, uh… Thinking, about… The way you look up in those photos… And…" He falters out, but you hear the faintest groan, still.

"Aw, you want me to suck you off, baby?" You tease. "Thinking about me looking up at you? My lips wrapped around your cock? Mmm, I bet it's so big I can barely fit, huh?"

"I… I mean, it's not the sandwich I promised earlier, but… It's definitely bigger than… Average," Keys explains, and you don't hold back on the moan that hearing that news elicits from you.

You still laugh softly at his joke. "Yeah, I could tell, baby. Fuck, when are you coming over and splitting me in half already?"

"God, I wish I could," he replies in a strained voice. “Also, it’s really - hot when y- you call me that.”

"Yeah? And how do you like it, baby? You wanna fuck me on my back, so you can keep watching me as you play with me? Or you wanna be the one to lay there and take it while I bounce on your dick? Or d- do you wanna just - bend me over and - fuck me senseless, huh?" As you finally give into temptation, sliding your hand beneath your panties and finally giving your clit the attention it's been craving for far too long, your breath hitches and your voice gets weaker.

“Oh, god, I… All of it, god, please, I don’t care, just want you,” he groans through the phone.

“I want you too, baby, you sound so good,” you croon sultrily, rubbing yourself in faster, tighter circles. “Are you close, hm? Gonna cum for me? I wanna hear you get off so bad.”

“Wanna - wanna get off for yo- with you, want you, please,” he whines.

“Mmm, tell me one more time, baby. What are you thinking of now?” You ask as you sink a finger inside of you. “Thinking of fucking me, yet?”

“Mm - mm-hm,” Keys whimpers. “You - You on top of me, talking like that and - and riding me, treating my cock so good.”

“I’d treat you so good, baby," you groan, adding another finger. "And you'd fill me up, wouldn't you? Fuck me - oh, right there," you whine as you curl your fingers to hit just the right spot. "Oh god, Keys, need you inside me."

Something about you saying his name short-circuits his brain. You just about hear his strained string of moans and profanities through the phone, picturing in your head how that sweet face of his must look - eyes glassing over, lips slightly parted, chest heaving. Maybe you’d fuck him with his glasses on. Maybe they’d be clouded over, knocked askew on his face as you bounced up and down on his dick. “Did you just come for me, baby?” you coo, your shoulders tensing and toes curling as you feel your own release building.

"Mm-hm, yeah, made - made a real mess of myself, shit," he half-laughs with exhaustion.

“That’s my good boy,” you smile dazedly, your core convulsing around your fingers. "Want me to cum for you, too?"

"Oh, shit, you haven- where are my - God, fuck, yes, let me hear you s… Say my name," his voice shakes with the effort he's trying to exude confidence into his tone, betrayed by the immediate, "please," that rolls off his tongue.

Closing your eyes, imagining that look on his face again, pressing your phone flush against your ear as if it pulls him closer to you, you finally leg out an, "Oh, god, Keys!" before finally feeling yourself gush down your fingers, past your hand, even. Breathing heavily, you pant, "Shit, baby, I think you made me squirt."

"Is that a good thing?" he asks meekly.

"Very. You doing good, now?"

"Very!" He repeats back to you, breathlessly, making you laugh. "Sorry I was so… Pathetic, I guess. God," his voice muffles as though he's rubbing his face while he talks. "But it did sound like you were into it a little," he points out with a lilt in his voice.

You grin, "I sure did, but if you wanted to do it again, but more… Confidently, I'd be more than happy to do that again. If you wanted."

"I've never really done… Any of that before, like, at all," he starts, and you interrupt him with a laugh.

"Yeah, no shit, Mr Subway!"

"Ah, like I said, that's not entirely untrue," he laughs awkwardly. "But I've especially never done anything with a total stranger, much less someone I helped through work, um, they can't - you wo- please, don't -"

"You mean this isn't standard practice for Free City customer support?" You tease sarcastically, before adding in a serious tone, "I won't tell a soul. Besides, I like having you as my dirty little secret."

He chuckles, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Maybe the next time you're feeling up to it, we can video call."

"N-Next time?!"

You hurriedly add, "If you wanted, you sounded like you did, if this is the first and last, that's totally -"

"No! I mean, yeah! I mean… If that's… Cool," he stammers.

You smile, "It's very cool. Just gotta be a little more confident. Isn't there something you do when you need that extra boost? Like, surely in the game you gotta be a little more self-assured around trolls and hackers and shit, right?"

He groans, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about that."

Grinning wickedly, you poke further. "Well, now I have to know. Who are you in the game? Have I ever seen you?"

"I… I play a cop," he admits, sounding as though he'd rather the ground swallowed him whole. "It's usually me and my buddy, and he's - he's a rabbit."

You light up. "Shut the fuck up, you're Dirty Stripper Cop?!"

"Oh god, the players call me that, too?! It's bad enough that Mouser does," he groans in despair.

"No, this is perfect. You just let me know when you’re ready to bring… Dirty Stripper Cop to our little talks, and I’ll be waiting,” you bite back a laugh as you repeat his character’s nickname in the hopes that he’ll still take your offer seriously.

A moment of silence exists between the two of you before he pipes up, “...And what if I still want to talk to you, without… All of this? I mean, if that’s all you want, then I guess, but… I dunno, you still seem really cool, and you made me laugh today, even at work when it felt weird in my cheeks to start smiling. But if this is all you want with -”

The rest of his words get drowned out as you move your phone away from its position to look at your dating app notifications. Keys has apparently not been your only option tonight. And you’ve never been one to commit. But something tells you that this was the best offer you’re getting. And the next one will be. As will the one after that, and that’s not even set in stone, yet. But you’re hoping to guarantee it.

As you return your headset to your ear, he’s still rambling. You cut him off with a simple, “Keys.” He shuts up quickly, and you continue, “I - I meant it. I wanna talk to you again. Maybe more than just this, I dunno, I’m bad at this sorta stuff. But… You’re cute. In more ways than one. And if you wanna keep talking, I’ll try. But that’s all I can promise.”

“That’s enough for me! I’ll, um, I’ll text you in the morning, then? Or is that too soon?”

“I honestly wish I could tell you,” you admit sadly. You hope it gets through to him that your reservations aren’t on his part.

Thankfully for you, he doesn’t seem so keen to give up. “Alright! Well, I suppose I got some cleaning up to do before I get some shut-eye. Um, so I’ll talk to you, tomorrow… At some point. Um, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, baby.”

[agwitow]

I really hate those puzzle ads. They're insulting and annoying.

This is a fairly simple, if tedious, puzzle. But it's a kind of puzzle I enjoy (that is, having to order and reorder things). Yet they call someone who can solve it a psychopath?!?

First, there's the whole issue with the way psychopathy is (mis)perceived as almost universally bad, making it undesirable to complete the puzzle and receive such a label.

Second, that isn't what psychopathy is. At all. Like, why would that even be a suggestion for a "super/scary smart" label? Is it because shows like Criminal Minds have made us think all psychopaths are genius serial killers?

I don't want to rant too much about this, because I don't need that stress in my life right now. Instead, here's a step-by-step breakdown of how to solve a puzzle like this...

No alt text for these images because I'm describing the steps the images represent anyway.

Step 1: Move the smallest (white) ring to cone/tower 3. (So move it from the first, left-most, cone to the last, right-most, cone)

Step 2: Move the second smallest (light pink) ring to cone 2.

Step 3: Move the smallest (white) ring from cone 3 to cone 2. It will now be sitting on the second smallest (light pink) ring.

Step 4: Move the third smallest/second largest (dark pink) ring to cone 3.

Step 5: Move the smallest (white) ring from cone 2 to cone 3. It will now be sitting on the second largest (dark pink) ring.

Step 6: Move the second smallest (light pink) ring from cone 2 back to cone 1. It will now be sitting directly on the largest (maroon) ring.

Step 7: Move the smallest (white) ring from cone 3 back to cone 1. It will now be sitting on the second smallest (light pink) ring, which is on top of the largest (maroon) ring.

Step 8: Move the second largest (dark pink) ring from cone 3 to cone 2.

Step 9: Move the smallest (white) ring from cone 1 to cone 3.

Step 10: Move the second smallest (light pink) ring from cone 1 to cone 2. It will now be sitting on the second largest (dark pink) ring.

Step 11: Move the smallest (white) ring from cone 3 to cone 2. It will now be sitting on the second smallest (light pink) ring, which is sitting on the second largest (dark pink) ring.

Step 12: Move the largest (maroon) ring from cone 1 to cone 3.

Step 13: Move the smallest (white) ring from cone 2 to cone 3. It will be sitting directly on the largest (maroon) ring.

Step 14: Move the second smallest (light pink) ring from cone 2 back to cone 1.

Step 15: Move the smallest (white) ring from cone 3 back to cone 1. It will be sitting on the second smallest (light pink) ring.

Step 16: Move the second largest (dark pink) ring from cone 2 to cone 3. It will now be sitting on the largest (maroon) ring.

Step 17: Move the smallest (white) ring to cone 2.

Step 18: Move the second smallest (light pink) ring from cone 1 to cone 3. It will be sitting on the second largest (dark pink) ring, which is sitting on the largest (maroon) ring.

Step 19: Move the smallest (white) ring from cone 2 to cone 3. It will now be sitting on the second smallest (light pink) ring, which is sitting on the second largest (dark pink) ring, which is sitting on the largest (maroon) ring.

Step 20: (not pictured) Bask in the satisfaction of a job well done.

*Note: I'm pretty sure this can be done in (at least) 2 fewer steps, but I'm feeling lazy and don't want to redo my diagrams. Also, I like ending the steps on a nice round number.

[bioethicists]

Edit: As of 1/27/24, all applications should have been pushed through (message me if yours was not) + I posted looking for others interested in moderating!

Come join our forum, Madness + Liberation!

For several months now, I have been working on creating a forum to discuss mad liberation, anti-psychiatry, + other related topics. This space is intentionally designed around values of harm reduction, total liberation, bodily autonomy, + validation of lived experiences. We talk openly about new ways of conceptualizing 'mental illness', psych abolition, + our experiences with issues like eating disorders, substance use, disability, plurality, + more.

The intention of the space is to generate new thought surrounding psychiatric abolition + mad liberation, cultivate a space for people to discuss these issues in a radical liberation context + without fear of retribution, + connect ppl from different backgrounds in order to learn from one another + provide resources/education for the curious.

I initially admitted a small number of people to test the waters, as I am currently the only person with moderation abilities. However, conversations have been very positive, even among ppl with very different theoretical backgrounds + the current community has done a great job of communicating so far. I would love to admit a handful of more people before we create a moderator team! Our ultimate goal is to become much more decentralized, with moderators trained in restorative approaches to conflict. My goal is to build a house, not rule a city.

There are no prior knowledge requirements to join. You do need to be open to having conversations with others which are rooted in psychiatric abolition, as well as understand that there is a strict ban against contacting crisis or authorities in regards to other users. There is an unfortunately lengthy + poorly formatted entry form (which I hope to fix up once we have a moderator team lol) which explains more about the sort of content which can be expected.

Additionally, small sections of the forum (primarily Theory + Education) are accessible to the public. Others are shielded for the protection of members. If you would like to join solely to be able to read all of the content, feel free to mention that in the form! Nobody is required to engage at all, only to respect the values + goals of the forum.

[art source] [id in alt text]

[getvalentined]

Content warnings on this post: Pregnancy and its associated biological weirdness, premature birth, seizures, fleeting mention of suicide, and my favorite character in the entire world getting shot. Discretion is advised.

So I've been trying to figure out a way to calculate roughly what point in Lucrecia's pregnancy her big seizure occurred, leading to Vincent confronting Hojo and getting shot. We know it was in 1977, and I've always assumed it was fairly late (because Sephiroth was probably born on Christmas, see link above for justification), but there's not actually much of anything in canon to confirm or refute this assumption.

Only, actually, it turns out that there is. It's so far off the path of things that are common knowledge that it's fallen off the edge of the continent, but it's there.

This is...very long, but please bear with me, because this is the best example of the timeline of this series being staggeringly internally consistent that I've ever seen.

Lucrecia's seizure was caused by Jenova, because it's super similar to the seizures Cloud has in Advent Children. This is weird, because while not stated in the games, there is a very specifically phrased blurb in the Crisis Core Complete Guide stating that Lucrecia was never personally exposed to Jenova cells while carrying Sephiroth:

[Description in alt text. Credit to jeange1231 and Shinra Archaeology on the bird app.]

Given that we don't have in-series canon that contradicts this, I have no issue with accepting it's canonicity. (This is what meta is for. Filling in gaps. Not contradicting the actual games.)

So the zygote/fetus that eventually became Sephiroth was treated in utero, with the assumption that it wouldn't spread to Lucrecia. I won't go into detail on the science here, but it makes sense that Gast and Co. made this assumption, given the existence of the placental barrier and the fact that Project S took place in the late 1970s, when we didn't understand these things as well as we do now. (We still do not understand them very well but that's neither here nor there.)

Cell migration between mother and child is a known phenomenon that isn't well understood, but occurs in a staggering number of pregnancies—it may occur in all pregnancies and simply not persist, but in humans it's been shown to persist for decades. (Basically everything I say about this is going to come from the paper linked above.) In humans it's known to occur no earlier than 10 weeks into a pregnancy. The paper doesn't seem to indicate the latest point it's known to occur in humans, which is interesting, but even if it only takes place for a very limited amount of time, that doesn't throw this off in the slightest.

According to the blurb above, Lucrecia canonically experienced cell migration, essentially being infected with Jenova by the unborn Sephiroth, but not in such a way that anyone caught it—or at least not until it was too late. If the cell migration itself was the event responsible for the seizure that pushed Vincent to confronting Hojo, that means that Sephiroth absolutely couldn't have been born in 1977, much less on Christmas. Vincent was shot no earlier than October 13th, and cell migration occurs around 10-12 weeks.

But the seizure didn't happen at 10-12 weeks. It couldn't have—Sephiroth's strain of Jenova is unique in that it responds to his will specifically. Without his will, it's not really active, which we see all throughout the Compilation. Cloud only wakes up at the end of Crisis Core around the time that Sephiroth starts calling for Reunion, and he's not cognizant until that call is loud enough to start drawing other Clones out of hiding; likewise, he appears to be in remission between Meteorfall and the events of Advent Children, at which point he starts having seizures of his own in response to Sephiroth gathering enough power to pull at his strings for the first time in years.

Fetal brain development kicks into high gear at the onset of the third trimester, roughly 28 weeks into a traditional 40 week pregnancy. (Interestingly, in mice, cell migration only seems to occur 2 weeks into a pregnancy, which is the equivalent of the onset of the third trimester because lab mice have a total gestational period of about 3 weeks.)

The third trimester is the point when Sephiroth began to have a will with which to pull at the unique strain of Jenova cells that had migrated from him to Lucrecia. With that in mind, we can say with a decent level of confidence that Lucrecia's seizure took place in the third trimester, around 26-28 weeks in.

And here's where it all comes together.

Assuming that Sephiroth was born on Christmas of 1977, at or close to full term (38-40 weeks), this would put his conception around the end of March. If he was conceived at the end of March, do you know when the third trimester starts?

The first or second week of October.

The earliest date that Vincent could have been shot is October 13th, 1977, because he was 27 years old at the time, and he was born in 1950. Hojo shot Vincent when he confronted him about Lucrecia's seizure.

I'd always had the headcanon that Sephiroth was premature, but taking actual human gestation into account—combined with the nature of Lucrecia's seizure and the confirmation that her strain of Jenova comes from Sephiroth specifically via cell migration—makes this line up so perfectly that I have to admit that this headcanon is directly refuted by actual canon. Sephiroth may have been a week or two early, but not enough to worry. He was a perfectly healthy baby, born at a perfectly acceptable term.

And he was born on Christmas, because he was conceived in late March, because Lucrecia's seizure happened around the onset of the third trimester, which occurred in early to mid-October, which is the earliest possible timeframe that Vincent could have been shot for confronting Hojo about it.

This is so internally consistent that the real world facts and features of human gestation line up without causing a single wave. I'm losing my fucking mind.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[anistarrose]

The funny thing about Tumblr and its site culture is that usually, staff rolls out a shitty update, and users band together to design an extension that reverts it/spread word of said extension to their followers. But sometimes, we get the opposite instead, where Tumblr rolls out what seems like a great feature, but then site culture changes in response to make the blogging experience significantly worse.

I am, of course, talking about the option to turn off reblogs. In a vacuum? S-tier quality of life change. But big picture? Huge spike in the number of people who screenshot posts to circulate them without any kind of image description or alt text, making them completely inaccessible to screen readers. (Or people who would normally be able to read it with increased font size, but can't do so as an image because Tumblr's zoom-in feature sucks.)

It's just. Like. Come on, folks. Especially you're on browser, you can literally copy and paste, and it'll take no more than fifteen seconds. Even if you're on mobile, you should still be transcribing it.

If you run into issues being unable to type it for whatever reason, try an online text extractor like onlineocr.net, maybe Google Lens if that's more mobile-friendly for you, or whatever alternative works. (This advice also applies if you see an undescribed screenshot in the wild.)

Like, this should not be nearly this difficult for nearly as many Tumblr users as are posting inaccessible screenshots because OP turned reblogs off. Same goes for screenshotted tags, as a matter of fact. I'm trying not to make every sentence in this post start with "like, come on," but like. Come on.