#notice the common denominator? yeah

[starlooove]

I hate when side characters get more attention that main characters in batfam specifically when it’s vs poc like it’s so sick how dukes place is constantly questioned by like. Anarchy fans or whatever or cass is consistently mischaracterized by ppl who go the extra mile to get Helena’s backstory straight - not to say these characters suck or whatever like I enjoy them but the double standards is crazy and until it’s fixed a part of me just cant love ppl like Harper row - what? How do I feel about Terry McGinnis? Well. Uhm. Well. UR DODGING THE FUCKING POINT

[kyra-cooneyx]

coffee — a.russo x reader

summary: you finally put an end to meeting up with alessia post-breakup

“if you stare at that phone any harder it might just blow up.”

katie dropped into the spot next to you on the dressing room, frowning at the lack of reaction she received. then you blinked and hummed but there was still a blank look on your face.

“you still with us nasa?” she asked, nudging you harshly. it knocked you out of whatever daze you were in and you scowled at her.

“katie that hurt.”

“it was supposed to,” katie scoffed, running her eyes over you. “what’s the matter?”

“what?” you glanced at her. “nothing. m’fine.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” katie shook her head. “and even if you weren’t, your body language would give you away. you’re very tense.”

“oh my god, go away and leave me alone.” you hissed, glaring daggers at her.

katie held her hands up in surrender and to her credit, immediately got up. but not even a minute later, you caught her whispering something to leah and then the blonde was heading your way.

“she’s such a snitch,” you muttered to yourself, staring at leah as she sat where katie did. “what?”

she stared back, a hard look on her face. “yeah, no, absolutely not. drop the attitude and tell me what’s pissed you off on that phone.”

“i’m not pissed off leah, i just—“ you breathed deeply, absentmindedly drumming your fingers along the device. “alessia wants to meet up after the match next week.”

leah shifted, eyebrows furrowed. “okay.”

really she had every right to be confused. despite breaking up over a year before due to your sudden transfer to arsenal, you and alessia had had multiple meet ups.

but they always ended the same way. and you could no longer take the heart ache that followed the morning after. the other ache wasn’t quite so bad.

“so what’s the problem?” leah’s question brought you back to reality and you shrugged slightly.

“i don’t think i want to.”

“then tell her that.”

the thought of rejecting her offer had occurred to you not long after the text had come through but you couldn’t do it. saying no to alessia was never easy and for some reason it never got any easier.

“can’t.” you mumbled and leah sighed at how sad you truly looked.

she didn’t really know what went on with you and alessia but she always noticed how down you were afterwards, the way you’d curl into yourself and push katie away when she poked at you in an attempt to cheer you up.

“well why don’t you meet yourself halfway?” leah suggested. “if you can’t not meet her, do something small and not what you usually do.”

you wracked your brain for the common denominator of your other meet ups. why did you always end up in bed with your ex girlfriend?

alcohol.

maybe if you didn’t go for dinner or meet at a local bar it wouldn’t end the way it usually did. maybe you wouldn’t wake up filled with embarrassment and rage, promising yourself that it would never get that far with her again.

maybe it wouldn’t end in tears. maybe alessia wouldn’t make you leave or she wouldn’t disappear before you woke up.

maybe maybe maybe.

“i still love her leah,” you said softly. “so maybe we can get coffee.”

after leah nodded in approval you texted alessia back with the suggestion, heart dropping when the read sign popped up but not a text bubble.

but then it changed.

you couldn’t tell what alessia really felt about the arrangement you proposed but she agreed and that’s all that really mattered to you.

-

“are you sure this is a good idea?” steph asked as you threw your hair up into a neatly messed up bun.

“it’s just coffee.”

“make it sure it stays that way.” the australian said pointedly.

you knew she was referring to last time. a dinner that ended with you both drinking a little too much, alessia’s words slurred but imprinted in your brain. let’s get back together. only for her to wake up the next morning seemingly forgetting everything she’d said the night before and leaving you a sobbing mess on the doorstep of beth’s house.

“no alcohol stephy, i promise,” you smiled slightly at her through the mirror. “just coffee.”

“just coffee,” she repeated. “i do not want to have you stumbling back here drunk out of your mind at stupid-o’clock in the morning because she’s kicked you out again.”

hearing it out loud made you shift uncomfortably. sure it wasn’t the first time one of the girls had made a snide comment about the situation, none of them had ever really done anything but comfort you.

“i’ll be fine steph.”

you grabbed your bag and shot out of the room before she could say anything else, heading towards the cute little coffee shop that was located just down the road.

but steph’s words echoed in your head, a pit forming in your stomach. what if it wasn’t a good idea? you couldn’t remember the last time you’d left alessia’s presence in a good mood. but maybe being sober would change it all. or maybe it would be the thing to really put everything into perspective.

did you want to go back to the girls miserable and filled with self-loathing again? no. and with every step you took, the battle in your brain got harder to win. the cons started to outweigh the pros and the pit kept getting deeper and deeper.

as you stopped near the coffee shop, you peered in to see alessia sat at a table, head bowed at she stared down at her phone, a single cup of coffee in front of her.

your hands shook as you pulled your phone from your bag, sending alessia a quick text to tell her that you couldn’t make it before quickly shoving it back into your bag and walked away.

it buzzed and buzzed but you didn’t look at it. you knew that it would be her asking why and then when you gave her some lame excuse, she’d convince to go anyway and you would, folding to her every demand like you usually did.

because when it came to you and alessia, it would never be just coffee.

[bitchlessdino]

hello perhaps morning after sex with mingyu + wonwoo ?? like you wake up in bed with both of them after a drunken threesome and go again… maybe one of the boys wakes up first and you start hooking up with him right there only for the other to wake up and get pouty before joining in

Pairing: (Mingyu x afab!reader x Wonwoo)

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.8k

tags: Tags: poly, established friendship, brief enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, spanking, double penetration, degradation, brief hole slapping?, mean wonwoo, sweet mingyu

Summary: Mingyu being the common denominator for the strained acquaintanceship of both you and Wonwoo, he's determined to make this friendship work.

author note: can yall believe this is my first minwon fic, i mean theres a million ones out there that arent mine, but its interesting it took this long. thank you kaili my love for the request, i hope you like it

Mingyu and Wonwoo were and have been inseparable, that is until you came into the picture. You met Mingyu first and clicked immediately with him, taking him everywhere you went like schoolmates. You were self-claiming that he was your best friend, despite how many people telling you he’d be a better boyfriend (he is insanely hot), and that Wonwoo was second best to you.

Wonwoo didn’t like that about you. You just popped out of nowhere with your pretty face and can-do attitude, attaching yourself to Mingyu’s hip like a clingy fanny pack. He was there first and clearly had a stronger connection with Mingyu and he wasn’t going to let some ‘nobody’ steal his friend away from him, no matter how cute that smile was or how nice you smelled.

Mingyu being the ‘empath’ he is, starting to use the word unironically at this point, he could sense the hostility between the two and how things never seemed to align when you were together. It was like a dark cloud peering over everyone when they were in the same room. It made social gatherings suffocating at times and that was unfortunate since he enjoyed both their companies equally, so he set off a plan in motion.

The next gathering would just be the three of them, close and intimate. Drinks would be involved, maybe some food, have it all set up in his apartment, and before you know it, they’d all be besties. This was going to go great.

“Mmh, Wonwoo…”

Mingyu realized things went too well when he found out what he was waking up to the following morning. His eyes couldn’t process it initially, but through his strained eyes he can make out you grinding your wet entrance up against his best friend’s raging boner, moaning obscenities that he hardly ever imagined coming out of your lips.

Wonwoo’s deep chuckles were as dark as chocolate, running his hands all over your body in delight, looking up in amazement to see how needy you already were. “So whiny, you’re so annoying. You want me that bad?”

You nod back at him incessantly, tweaking your stuff buds between your fingers, “I…want…you in me…”

A corner of his lips quirks up, he forces your hips to ride his torso harder, “Yeah? You want my cock inside you?”

Your lips contort anxiously, dragging your hands over his toned, muscular build, “Mm, yes, I want it…”

“I’m gonna need to hear you beg for it. Beg for me, whore,” He taps his length on your stomach, having you mewl over him desperately.

Your core throb, practically hearing the echo from its vacancy, screaming at you to be filled, “Wonwoo please…”

He arches a brow, “Please what? Be specific.”

You’re clenching over nothing, whining in his ear as you leaned towards him, “Please put your cock in me…I need you…”

Mingyu was half asleep when this was all occurring. Tossing and turning, he was wondering what was happening in the background, and why the hell was he so tired for. He soon notices the instability of the bed slightly rocking in its spot, the pure stench of sex that coated the inside of his nostrils, and then your breathy moan, rhythmically dancing in the air. The images then all rush back to him, blood flowing to his lower half, finding enough for his shaft to stand on, and the feeling of neglect wash over him.

“Seriously? You guys couldn’t wait?”

You immediately collect the sounds of Mingyu's pretty whines and turn your head to his side of the bed. “Baby, you’re—ah—up.”

“Hey Gyu.” Wonwoo nods at the younger man.

Mingyu juts out his bottom lip childishly, lightly throwing a pillow back at his friends, and sees it make no effect on the situation. He shifts from the bed, the blanket falling from his body and exposing stiff length, rubbing his eyes in slight frustration. “I can’t believe you two. Without me.”

Your eyes latch on his size, pulling him by his shaft, giggling. “It’s not too late for you to join in.”

“Well, now I gotta catch up,” his hand catches the back of your head and claims your lips.

Your hips moved more slowly this time, focusing on savoring the taste of his lips while entertaining, but the man underneath you wasn’t so patient. Distracted with Mingyu, Wonwoo grips your hips and ruts you faster, bouncing you in his lap. As the sounds of skin slapping together in perfect harmony, you moan in soft, staccato breaths in Mingyu's mouth, allowing your lips to part and have his tongue explore. His hands start playing a part when they fell to your chest, teasing your nipples lightly.

With the endearing way you feel apart to his touch, he can’t help but pull away from the kiss to just have them in his mouth, sucking your tender skin and mouthing flesh around it. “You’re so fucking beautiful...”

His eyes gaze back at you like he was in heat, his hips, and cock twitching to be inside you, your eyes telling him the same. He embraces you as you ride Wonwoo, drawing circles with his tongue, clenching your flesh in his hands, drunk on your pretty voice calling out to him. He could do this all day if he could, but there was one thing he wanted to do a smidge more.

“Come on, Gyu, you know you want to,” Wonwoo takes his hand to your ass cheeks, have you whimper upon impact.

Mingyu knew all too well what his best friend meant and pushed you down to reunite your lips with Wonwoo’s in a frenzy. Mingyu made himself comfortable behind you, legs bordering Wonwoo and parallel to yours. He runs a slick finger over your moisture, and squeezes it between the older man’s cock and your walls, testing your limits.

“So fucking tight…has Wonwoo treating you well?”

You hardly mumble a yes as Wonwoo thrusts deep inside you, feeling the tension up your body and ramming repeatedly inside you, his hands clapping over your ass every few seconds or so. 

“We’re gonna stretch you nice and wide for us okay?” Mingyu warns with a playful tinge.

You moan against Wonwoo’s lips, feeling the heat of his cocky chuckle on your neck. “I think that means yes, Gyu.”

Mingyu held your hips in place, rubbing the tip at the edge of your entry before gradually pushing his length in. With blown-out eyes, you try to quickly adjust to the strain of two cocks plunged inside you, feeling their slick griths rub against each other and fill up your vacancy past its limit, “Oh, fuck…”

It's when Mingyu finds his place that you realize it's only begun. Your hips stationary and nails digging into a pillow, they moved on polar pacing, but fucking you with a similar depth. The euphoria of fullness had overcome you and you try backtracking to the moment when you felt a sensation similar, but none comes in mind. You felt used in the most heavenly way possible.

“So…tight…Fuck, you feel good…” Wonwoo growls out between his grunts, “Stupid slut, perfect fucking body, perfect fucking hole, you’re just perfect everything, aren’t you?”

“So good for us…you’re taking us so good, baby.” Mingyu agrees.

Your eyes keep rolling back in your skull, taking deep breaths, restraining your own orgasm, and at some point the sweat of you three fuse together, becoming one living and breathing system, hot to the touch and unstoppable. Wonwoo eventually encourages you to sit up, pressing your back against Mingyu’s chest, having the image of you being spoiled giving him a sense of purpose and bliss.

“That’s a pretty picture,” he comments, watching as Mingyu grabs your chest again, rolling your nipples and abusing them to his liking.

“I’m c-c-cumming…” you stutter.

Mingyu smugly grins against your skin. “But we’ve only started, baby.”

“I-I know I’m…try–fuck–shit, Mingyu!” You react to the love tap he makes to your hole, his laughter flooding your ears.

Wonwoo laughs along with him, his nails running over your chest and stomach. “Listen to him, slut. Don’t make us have to make you wait…”

“Y-yes, sir…”

Wonwoo was pleased to see your chest heave up and down breathlessly, sweat beading down your body, and the helplessness on your face while Mingyu took advantage. The power running through his veins was immaculate; he made you grind faster, Mingyu pound you harder, all of his present senses were being fulfilled to their maximum. Despite being underneath you, Wonwoo clearly had the upper hand. 

There was a point you couldn’t help yourself anyway, your arousal seeps out of you like oozing honey, dripping the side of your legs and down Wonwoo’s lap, clutching the man behind you desperately for reassurance. “S-shit…I’m sorry.”

“You better be. Mingyu, get on top of them.”

Mingyu follows orders well, your body flat on the mattress in mere seconds with him toppled over you, his smile staring back at you, “Hey, there.”

You get no chance to greet him back as he smothers you with his lips, his full length pushing back in you, and your body aches from the sensitivity. Wonwoo is just a step behind, pulling your legs just slightly more in his direction, he steps off the bed. He plants his feet on the ground and fills up your core to its brim, not caring about the mess you make, only thinking of the bigger mess he plans to make.

“S-so full…”

“You should’ve listened to Wonwoo, baby.” Mingyu strokes the side of your head, pressing his lips against your skin and sucking them until he sees the pigment rise to the surface. 

The room could hardly contain any of the sounds happening, no doubt interrupting a fourth party’s day, and none of you had a care in the world. You were a sweating mess beneath the both of them, used up like their personal toy, and being bruised left and right, all worth it to meet another climax, this time both men joining you.

Mingyu was still kissing your flushed skin when it was happening and Wonwoo, having already poured thick ribbons of his nectar inside you, was pushing it back inside of you, a trail of his and Mingyu’s essence seeping out of you into the sheets. Doing it once, twice, and three times before, you’d do it again and again until your hunger presents itself.

Although both men knew how to make you full, they couldn’t distract or fulfill you from the absence of food. Knowing how exhausted you’ve become, Mingyu laid your body to rest, cleaning out any and all the remnants from your body, while Wonwoo called ahead for some breakfast.

“Anything specific you both want?”

Mingyu cuddles up next to you when he’s finished, throwing a blanket over bare bodies, “Yeah maybe a breakfast sandwich? How about you, baby?”

“That sounds perfect,” you grin, kissing the top of his nose.

Wonwoo smiles to himself, reciting it over the phone before joining them back in bed. He holds you from behind nuzzling to the crook of your neck, and you laugh, wondering why he ever bothered you in the first place. It felt complete with you three together, like a breakfast sandwich.

[bloggingboutburgers]

I've never enjoyed being touched, but my loved ones always forced their affection on me since forever. Parents, family members, friends, always forcefully hugging me, holding my hand, kisses etc. Because of that, I associated physical touch with something very unpleasant and forced. To the point my first instinct is to bite or fight back if I get hugged by surprise by a friend and I have to stop myself from doing that.

Now I'm an adult, I have no idea if I'm ace or if they just ruined it for me. I did notice I can actually like physical touch in some particular set up, but it feels like it's going to take me forever to actually learn to trully enjoy it now. Morale of the story: Don't fricking force your affection on others, even if they're "just kids", whether they're ace or not. Respect everybody boundaries, peeps.

As "cold" as that may sound to some people, and as much as I enjoy platonic physical affection myself... Yeah, I agree. There's especially a case to be made for respecting a kid's boundaries instead of dismissing them as "just kids", and for how there are other ways to show someone you love them than the biggest-common-denominator societal norm. Sorry you had to go through that T^T

[mirensiart]

Wait the "Lorule-Hyrule soul bond is pain for literally just Legend and Ravio" combined with it spreading to the rest of the chain is so funny bc like imagine if after this they talk to Fable like "yeah, sharing pain sucks. I bet it's annoying for you too"

And she lets it slip that no, she and Hilda have telepathy

And now Warriors is frothing at the mouth because what do you MEAN they get telepathy that would've been so helpful actually but nooooooo Legend just has to get hurt and Ravio has to be angsty

Maybe if Ravio had a better childhood, then pain wouldn't be a common denominator and instead their connection would be about hoarding items like. Randomly in Legends head he gets the details of Ravios sales, and then Ravio one day gets like. A rundown of the specs of whatever magic item Legend has picked up from a chest this time.

Ok, but can you imagine having 8 guys' thoughts in your head all the time? That would be absolutely terrible lmaaaaaao

Imagine like you're Time and suddenly you get bombarded with these thoughts

"Ok, but what if I drop a bug in the stew, nobody will know, I've done it before and they didn't notice"

"Ah man, I wanna roll around in the dirt and sniff around, what if I turn into wolfie right now"

"I wonder if I give wolfie a hyoi pear I would be able to control him like a seagull???? Awww I wanna try that would be so sick"

"I swear to the goddesses if I come home and ravio sold one of my magic rods AGAIN I will start charging him double the rent"

"My zelda is so beautiful, so cute, I wanna kiss her pretty cute nose and hold her close and never let her go and oh I miss her so much, her beautiful golden hair and her pretty big eyes and—"

—insert jumbled unintelligible mashup of four's thoughts here, just a bunch of convos being constantly interrupted by the colors—

"If i turn into a fairy maybe i could snoop around the vet's bag, i bet he has some incredible magic items there"

"Ok so, if hypothetically an enemy were to attack right now, I could grab the sailor and the traveler and put them behind me in a second just in time to cover them with my shield...my shield that is right here, yes, and oh my dagger always have my dagger close. I can trust the old man to grab the others too, I know he's just a parano— no prepared PREPARED as I am, yes"

Time, thinking as loud as he can so it reaches everyone: PLEASE REMEMBER WE CAN ALL HEAR WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. also please don't add bugs to the stew champion, I'm watching you"

In another note lol ravio and legend having a sale/inventory bond is SO CUTE what the HELL

[damned-punk]

What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)

Part Two

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Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst

Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡

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You glanced at the number for a moment trying to decide if it was worth answering. It was a strange time of night for a spam call and Hip would be more likely to text before calling, either way you had her contact saved so you were confident it wasn’t her. As you pulled into your driveway and started gathering your things to head inside, your phone started buzzing yet again. The same number from before flashed across the screen, this time prompting you to answer.

“Hey, is this (Y/N)?”, the tenor of the voice was jarringly familiar and caught you off guard, it sounded just like him.

“Yeah… Who’s this?”, you asked although you already knew the answer.

“It’s Kidd.”, you heard him inhale, likely taking a drag off a cigarette, “I just wanted to say that I didn’t mean to be an asshole earlier… it was nice meeting you too.”

His words caused your chest to swell and drew the air from your lungs. He was using your own words against you, a way to makeup for his misunderstanding of your initial interaction while also showing that he was attentive to what you’d said to him. He’d laughed when you’d first said it and it made you feel like muttering it in the first place was a mistake, but this changed the way you perceived his response. He’d mentioned that no one had ever been happy to meet him and maybe that was more than just a self-deprecating joke in passing.

“Oh, it’s fine…”, you trailed off, trying hard to find the right words to say, “I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was… Well, you know.”

The fact that he’d taken the time to not only call but also apologize had greatly intensified your interest. Maybe he just wasn’t good at showing his own interest, it’s not like you were particularly seasoned with it either. He must’ve at least been attracted to you beyond his proposition for casual sex, why else would he go out of his way to let you know that he enjoyed meeting you?

“Don’t worry about it.”, he laughed a bit and continued, “I hope Hip will convince you to come to the bar again soon.”

“I don’t think she’ll have to convince me next time.”, you chose your words carefully, not saying too much but reciprocating his invitation, “Goodnight Kidd.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”, you could hear the grin in his voice, he was eager to see you again, “Goodnight (Y/N).”

You took yourself to bed and analyzed the events of the night several times over. The next morning, you sent Hip a text and let her know that you needed to talk. She already knew what you’d say, she was the one who’d given Kidd your number in the first place. She seemed pleasantly surprised that he’d actually followed through with calling you, something that she said was out of the ordinary for him. Rather than prolonging your absence any further, she suggested that the two of you meet at the bar at the same time as the night prior and that’s exactly what you did.

You found yourself putting extra thought into your outfit, styling yourself in a way that made you feel at peak confidence. The drive felt agonizingly slow and terrifyingly fast at the same time. You wanted to be there as soon as possible to have the most time to get to know him better but as you pulled into the parking lot, the thought of going through the motions was anxiety inducing. You noticed that Hip’s car was absent from the lot, your calls immediately being sent to voicemail. You’d arrived on time and while it was totally a possibility that she was only running late, the thought of her not showing up was daunting as she was the only common denominator that connected you to Kidd’s world.

A few minutes of waiting had turned into several, the hours only growing later with each passing second. Your texts weren’t being delivered which indicated that her phone was likely turned off. Had she forgotten about tonight? Did something else come up? Nevertheless, your time spent pondering on where she could be was cut short as you were startled by rapid tapping on the glass of your window. A smile broke out across your face when you saw him, red hair spiked atop his head and a leather jacket clinging to his shoulders as he lent to the height of your car. You rolled down your window to greet him, the smell of his cologne wafting in the air.

“What’re you doing here?”, he asked in a playful tone, his demeanor much more inviting than it’d been the night before, “Couldn’t wait to see me?”

“Something like that…”, you played into his suggestion, “I was supposed to meet Hip again but I don’t think she’s gonna make it.”

“Don’t tell me you need Hip to come inside and have a drink with me.”, he stood up straight and crossed his arms, internally praying that his attempts at flirting were actually resonating this time.

“I don’t know… she might not like me getting too comfortable without her.”, you teased him, your tone indicating that you were only joking.

“I’ll tell you what…”, he started while glancing around at the scenery, “How about we go somewhere else instead? I’ve been here the past few nights and it’s dead in there anyway.”

“Do you have anywhere specific in mind?”, you asked, nervous but excited at the thought of being somewhere alone with him.

“How about the riverfront?”, he prompted and you nodded to confirm his suggestion, “I’ll drive.”

You followed him to his car which very much fit his personality and slid into the passenger seat next to him. The closeness in such a confined space was nauseating, ultimately leaving you hyper aware of your surroundings. You’d struck light conversation with him, complimenting the vehicle and listening to him talk about all the parts he’d modified or crafted himself. You learned that he was a mechanic and had been managing a local shop for a couple of years. You loved watching his face light up as he talked about some of his favorite projects and machines that he’d gotten to work on.

He asked several questions about you and seemed genuinely invested in what you had to say. The two of you lead different lives but seemed to have many similarities, most notably when it came to media interests. As he pulled into the parking area at the river, the water glittered against the moonlight and added the perfect ambiance to your conversation. Kidd seemed to be stuck on your shared interest in music, something that he was clearly passionate about has he pointed out the patches of bands on his jacket. He put on one of his favorite playlists and continued the conversation by asking if you’d ever been in a relationship.

He took in your response and asked about the qualities that you typically look for in a partner. He mentioned that he hadn’t actually been in many real relationships, it seemed that he’d had more fun than anything. It made your heart twinge when he asked what you thought about him. Nearly all of what you knew of him was recently learned and while you didn’t want to come off as overbearing, you could already feel yourself slipping into him. Spending time with Kidd just felt so right, hours had passed yet they felt like minutes.

“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.”, you stated honestly, “I’m so glad you called because I’m having such a great time right now… I really like you, Kidd. Thank you for bringing me here.”

His face lit up redder than his hair, his cheeks almost seeming to illuminate from the intensity of your response. His eyes were locked on yours, almost as though he were searching for any hint of doubt in your expression. He couldn’t think of another time in his life when someone talked to him the way that you had. You were so open and readily accepting of what he had to say, it was such a refreshing change of pace to break up the monotony that his life had fallen into.

Following his instincts, he leant closer and placed a hand on your leg. You froze at the contact and prepared yourself for the impending intimacy that was sure to follow. He flickered his gaze from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes again. You traded your own glances between his gaze and his hand, stilling yourself when he began to draw forward. He placed a kiss on your lips and lingered for a moment, drawing back just a few inches to gauge your reaction. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, but he didn’t want to lose the contact if you reciprocated. You leant your forehead against his own, attempting to steady your breath.

“I guess I should get you back, huh?”, he said lowly, the gruffness of his voice awakening a feeling deep within your abdomen.

“Unfortunately…”, you smiled as he pulled back and rubbed his fingers into the top of your thigh.

He’d kept his hand rested in its position over your leg the whole time, a comfortable silence taking hold as the two of you processed the very meaningful past several hours. As he pulled up next to your own car, you noticed that a group was standing outside the doors of the bar. You recognized Mosh by his bright pink hair and posed next to him was Hip, cigarette in hand and as lively as ever. She still hadn’t answered any of your calls or texts, something that Kidd could tell had bothered you by the change in your demeanor.

“Looks like she found her way here after all.”, he attempted to cut the tension, not exactly sure what you were thinking or feeling.

“Yeah… Should I go over and say hi? I hope she’s not upset with me.”, you asked, really wanting some advice on how to handle the awkward situation.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”, he dismissed your concerns and got out of the car, meeting you at your side as you stood on the pavement.

Mosh called out to Kidd as you made your way over to your own vehicle, a feeble attempt to end what had proved to be another long night. It had a much better outcome than the previous evening but something about Hip’s silence was beginning to bloom in your thoughts. Something was off, even if you couldn’t place exactly what it was. Abrupt silence paused the eruption of chaotic chatter when you stepped into view, a glaringly obvious shift in attitude as they realized you’d been with Kidd the entire time. You waved at everyone, told Kidd goodnight, and headed home for some much needed decompression.

Part Three

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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.

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[fubukiiisss]

How will I get to know that I'm " "

Like yeah NOTICE IT but like a lil yk direction?

🥹🫡

there’s nothing to know. stop searching. before you proceeded to send this ask, you became aware of it. what is always there? what is always impermanent despite the so called changes like day/night, old/new, today/yesterday? what’s the difference between last night’s dream and now? what is always there?.. what’s the common denominator for all? what’s everything but it’s all no-thing? what’s the silence when you ask “what’s my next thought?” ?

go deeper. go within.

[nikethestatue]

SJM gives me the ick now whenever a character is raped in the books and it’s always in the context of being forced to service an abuser. Why does she do this in literally every book??? First time Lysandra, fine, it makes sense with her backstory. Second time Rhys, ok, it’s part of the backstory SJM wrote for him and shows something about his character’s sacrificial nature. Third time Fenrys, now it’s a weird pattern and didn’t really add anything to the story or his character? Fourth time Lidia, it was sad at first but I thought SJM handled it weirdly in HOFAS by having Lidia upset about her “relationship” with Pollux but also making her double down that she chose to sleep with him and she would try to enjoy it. Idk that was just really weird to me. SJM giving all her favs rape trauma is really weird and it’s clear it’s not done in a meaningful way, it’s just done for backstory interest which is really irritating.

I think SJM relies on rape as a default 'TRAUMA' for her characters because it's the easiest way to solicit immediate sympathy from a reader. There is a visceral reaction that we all have to that act. I think she also has to work the least as a writer in developing that character, because she knows that TRAUMA is built in and sort of defines them as 'good' from the getgo.

If we think about it logically, is that the worst thing that can possibly happen to a person? Maybe, but maybe not. Like is one unwanted act of penetrative sex comparable to watching your twin getting beheaded? To me, it's not. Or years and years and years of sustained violent parental or spousal abuse (Emerie, LOA, Eris) ? Again, not to me, but all that requires a lot more writing and 'work' on behalf of the reader.

SJM tends to give that kind of trauma to her fave secondary characters. She doesn't want to delve TOO deeply into them, but she wants to emphasize them--she's done it again and again throughout her series. As you mentioned: Lysandra (Aelin's bestie), Fenrys (Aelin's bestie), Lucien (Feyre's so-so bestie), Gwyn (Nesta's bestie), Lidia (very important, but still secondary characters bestie).

Notice how it never happens to the main FMCs. Which is curious.

Yeah, but basically, she just goes for the lowest common denominator on the sympathy scale and feels that it's sufficient.

[blubushie]

Wolf Creek 2 script... analysis thingo

Warning, this is gonna contain spoilers for the TV series, and the movie, and the books, and what all have you. So read at your own discretion.

Also I'm gonna hang a bit of shit on Greg McLean in this in the typical friendly Aussie ribbing fashion. Yeah yeah I know Aaron Sterns also co-wrote the script, but between Greg, and Aaron (who also co-wrote Origins), and Brett McBean (who co-wrote Desolation Game), the only common denominator between the movies, the telly series, and the books is Greg. So you're the one copping shit, mate.

Also this is gonna be bloody long and will probably take a day or so for me to finish going through, so check the reblogs ay.

I wrote up a whole thing about this and then it got deleted cuz I closed the tab so I'm kinda pissed about that but anyway-

This number is actually closer to 38,000 average per year, but 98% of missing people in Australia are found in the first three months--these are "short term missing persons". Long-term missing persons are much rarer.

Additionally this number is massively skewed. These aren't people just disappearing into the outback. Australian national policy is that ANY MINOR in state care MUST be reported missing when they miss curfew. In 2023, 55,000 people were reported missing. Of them, 37,000 were children, 99% of which were found within one week of being reported as missing. This means that 67% of missing Australians are missing children found within a week.

I'm only mentioning this because I'm a former missing Australian child, and I think these statistics being included in the title sequences is funny given how they're taken so out of context. Ooooo spooky scary outback serial killer? Nah just teenagers going AWOL.

Model confirmation.

Greg does this often--spells shit incorrectly (usually with American spelling). It's tyres, mate. Fucken Melbu- [I am taken out back and shot like a lame horse]

Taking a moment away from hanging shit on M-lburnians to praise Greg for his prose. Genuinely--I love the prose in this script and how skilled he is at getting the image in his head across to his actors to replicate.

-1 for not calling it a gunbox. But +1 for being Like That about the knife.

The feigned innocence gets me. (I mean, to be fair, he IS innocent here of what they're about to drag him about--just ignore the dead chick in the meatlocker in the back of the rig.)

It's arse, you git. We aren't Americans.

I just wanna giggle about this because a lot of time when people picture sociopaths in media, it's "wanton disrespect for the law". Which really isn't the case. It's more "respectful of the law so long as it suits us" and Mick reflects this. He knows wanton disrespect of it would draw attention. Bloke's careful.

Also Greg spelt "arsed" here properly. So he knows.

Had a perfect opportunity to introduce international audiences to "bogan" and blew it. Shame, Greg. Shame.

This would've been the FIRST thing out of a cop's mouth when they rapped the window, not waffling beforehand.

[tap tap, motioning to roll the window down] "G'arvo, licence, registration, proof of insurance." Followed by noticing the rifle racked on the window and "Licence for that too. You have any other weapons?" and THEN they start checking your shit.

Sauce have been pulled over by police a few times, usually for a blow in the bag. (I am also careful.)

I didn't get to see what darts he smokes and I'm gonna whinge about this forever. I bet it's Winfields. Fucken bet. Bloke's smoke.

That escalated quickly. (Greg's edge is showing.) Also they'd have asked about the rifle a LOT sooner.

"An evil not quite human." Iunno maybe this is just the disorders in me speaking but after that shit I'd fucken shoot 'em too. That's very human actually I reckon.

Also at one point in this scene Greg calls a windscreen "windshield". There's something in M-lbourne's water. I'm not gonna keep screencapping mistakes like that but I will keep bitching about them. He misspells "metres" too as "meters".

I'm glad we have this moment in the show, when he tells the Kiwi--forget his name, soz mate--to dig. And then starts monologuing to him about how much he hates Kiwis (funny callback to Cutter from Origins--aw, Mick, look who still holds a grudge). But I'll be arsed if this isn't a great sequence, and I'm slightly bummed we didn't get it.

[etherrreal]

guess who just finished a kenma x reader fic and will hopefully be posting it this week 👀 here's a little sneak peek! -Luna

update: it’s out! “would you be mine(craft)?” is out for you to read :)

As you stand there with the cupboards open, you glance at the clock on the microwave—still off by an hour from when the time changed—and wonder if anyone’s in the Minecraft realm at the moment. Probably Kenma.

You grab the first bag of chips you see and head to your bedroom, getting comfortable in front of your computer so you can boot up Minecraft. You’re in the game for maybe a minute before you hear the Discord chime, a message waiting for you from Kenma.

ken-ma dick fit in your mouth:: 💻📞🗣️? call me by y/n:: …are you asking me to get in the voice channel?? ken-ma dick fit in your mouth:: 👍 call me by y/n:: bet call me by y/n:: also, whoever changed your username is a funny guy 😉 ken-ma dick fit in your mouth:: 🖕

With an evil chuckle, you pull out your headset and plop it on your head, switching channels and waiting patiently for Kenma to join. Shocking to no one, it takes only a few moments for his name to pop up.

“Yo, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he greets, his character popping up in front of yours and crouching, throwing down bread in front of you. “How’d your date go?” 

“It went absolutely terrible!” You attempt to joke about it, but the bitterness seeps through. “He was an okay dude, but there was absolutely no chemistry, whatsoever. It was like having a meeting with a coworker.” 

“What is that, like, the third failed date this month?” 

“Oh god, please don’t say that out loud. It makes me feel bad,” you say with a lighthearted chuckle. 

“Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Sometimes I just wonder if it’s me, ya know? Like, am I the problem, or is it the type of guys that I’m going after?” You pause your mining, pondering all the failed dates, and if there’s some kind of common denominator between them all. Or maybe that common denominator is you? 

Kenma makes a noise of disagreement, saying nothing more as he continues breaking down lines of cobbled deep slate, pausing to mumble ‘zombie’ as he shoots him dead, the little jingle of EXP loud in your ears. 

“Anyway, enough about my depressing dating life. How’s yours? Did you end up asking out that one girl you were telling me about?” 

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. She had a boyfriend.”

“Oof. That had to suck. Sorry, man. Looks like we’re both striking out lately.”

Usually, he’d hum in acknowledgment, like he tends to do when there’s nothing else he can add to the conversation, but still wants you to know you’ve been heard. Instead, you notice there’s an odd silence, like he’s planning on adding something more.

Kenma clears his throat, and you hear him shift his headset. “When I told Kuroo, he said that we should just go out to put each other out of our misery.” 

[cloudburst-ink]

Tagged by @hedgewyse . It took me awhile to get around to it but I did finally! I originally stalled because I've only ever been actively involved in two ship communities. But then I remembered... the third one. Which I've never been involved in, but it's still important. 💀😂

three ships

Kim Khimhant Theerapanyakun / Porchay Pichaya Kittisawat

It's the passion. It's the obsession. It's the angst. It's the fluff. It's the flirting. It's the hidden smiles. It's the stalker4stalker. It's the complete and utter lack of communication skills. It's the sweet pathetic boys. It's the bittersweet ending. It's the fanfiction in fanfiction. It's...

... alright well a lot of it's just me simping over Jeff Satur.

Magnus Bane / Alexander Lightwood

This was my first ship. I wrote my first full novel length fic in this fandom, and I even have a tattoo about it! They will always hold a special place in my heart as the ship that sailed me back into my passion for art and writing.

Reylo

So um, here's the thing. I'm not in the Reylo fandom. I enjoyed the movies well enough, but didn't have any particular interest in them beyond "oh, that was fun to see in theaters, I enjoyed it."

Many years ago, however, before I was involved in fandom at all, a friend of mine sent me a link to a Reylo fic on AO3 that she was obsessed with. It's the only Reylo fic I've ever read.

Long story short (I'll elaborate in another post sometime if I'm ever asked), it ended my impending marriage and changed the course of my life.

I have no idea what the fic was called or whom it was written by.

One day I should track that author down and thank them. I mean obviously other factors played into it, I'm not completely unhinged (well, debatable), but it was the spark that lit the flame.

So anyway, these two will always be important to me even though I'm not part of their fandom. 🖤

Honorable Mentions

I'm currently obsessing over KimVegas, KimArm, and ArmKimChay. If you notice a common denominator, shhh no you don't. ✨ I just didn't feel right using them in the three because they're all just extensions of my KinnPorsche the Series / KimChay addiction. 😅

first ever ship

I generally consider Malec to be my first ship, as they were the first ship I was active in any fandom community for.

However, they're probably not really my first ship.

I was baited into fandom as an adult by a friend who lured me into watching The Vampire Diaries. I kind of shipped Delena, but assumed they wouldn't end up together because he was the second / bad boy love interest and that's just not how the formula goes.

Little did I know 😌 that universe is far too much of a clusterfuck to care about formulas and industry norms.

Anyway I did write an Elijah/Hailey fic and post it on FFnet when I first started writing again after years of no artistic endeavors whatsoever. It's still there, but I choose to pretend it isn't. Straight smut is not my forte. 😅 And it's... well, you can tell I was a bit rusty. 😂

last song

👀🤫😇

last movie

I tend to gravitate more toward TV shows than movies, so I think the last one I watched might've been over the holidays. It's a pretty great musical--Mrs. Santa Claus gets fed up with being taken for granted, takes the sleigh on a joyride, and gets temporarily stranded in early 1900s New York. While there she protests for women's suffrage, fights for the rights of child workers, helps to reunite a family divided by an ocean, and repeatedly demonstrates the spirit of acab.

Yeah, you heard me. It's socialist acab Mrs. C here to sing dank tunes and fight for your rights.

Highly recommend 10/10.

It's also on Youtube for free last I checked.

currently reading

The Prince's Poisoned Vow by Hailey Turner.

currently watching

The latest season of Miraculous Ladybug 🥺

currently consuming

I've been making a lot of duck soup lately. I'm a bit of a duck addict, and there's something so satisfying about making use of the whole carcass and watching it slowly turn into rich, wiggly stock and then the most wonderful soup with duck meat and bok choy and bamboo shoots and noodles. ✨

currently craving

a quiet, vibey cafe to write at, and some peaceful time to spend there. the gay donut shop i used to write at shut down. 😭

-----

I'll tag... @staykimchay and @justanothervariant if they haven't done it yet.

[egginfroggin]

What inspired you to make wtst and pandemonic Paradise ?

If you were to make another "Emmet-centric" AU, what would it be about ?

Honestly, I just wanted to make Emmet suffer, I think.

To be serious, though, I was introduced to Submas through Ingo's involvement in PLA, so a lot of my ideas involved PLA, either in worldbuilding (taking place in Hisui) or plot (taking bits of story from the game).

The idea for WtST came from me thinking about having one of the twins take the place of Akari/Rei in PLA, I think. Then I thought it would be fun to leave it vague as to which twin had been eeby-deebied, which resulted in the narration consistently avoiding Emmet's name and instead calling him "Faller" until the last two chapter. The scene that started it, I would say, was the one in chapter 3, where Emmet runs from Jubilife upon being banished. I wanted to write that, so I needed a story, and then the story needed an end.

So... basically, Welcome to Sinnoh's Temple is just the fruit of my desire to write angst while also testing the idea of Emmet being the PLA protagonist.

Pandemonic Paradise came about because I looked at the conflict with Volo in WtST and wanted to write a version of things where Emmet lost and Ingo wound up getting dragged into the aftermath. Pandemonic Paradise is very self-indulgent, and is something of an excuse for me to delve into writing some of the heavy emotions surrounding grief and loss. Also, I wanted to write Ingo getting well and truly angry. I enjoy pushing characters' emotions around -- especially characters who are normally mellow and non-confrontational.

Yeah. the Welcome to Sinnoh's Temple series really did just into being because I like angst, it seems.

What I would have another possible Emmet-centric AU be about is a very good question. Most of my ideas involve both of the twins, like Iced Tracks. I do very much enjoy digging into a character's psyche and emotions -- psychology fascinates me -- so I'd like to do something involving those, probably. I do have a vague idea for a fic wherein Emmet, deep in grief, is taken advantage of and winds up being coerced/manipulated/what-have-you into committing some very questionable actions involving space-time, mainly from his point of view.

However, that idea heavily involves themes such as emotional manipulation (in combination with emotional vulnerability), toxic and abusive relationships, emotional/mental abuse and coercion, and gaslighting, so I'd like to do some research on the topics involved before I write that.

(But boy does the idea rot my brain for a few nights about every month)

Perhaps you've noticed a common denominator with all my inspiration (it's angst, and it is very potent).

Thank you very much for the ask, Anon! Sorry that it took me so long to answer. I hope that this answered your question, and I hope you have a good day! <3

[trip-tuckers-hyperspanner]

The Time in the Mess Hall - 1

5 Times Trip Was Dumb + 1 Time He Wasn't

Trip banged his head against the PADD as he read the sentences over and over again. “You actually like this stuff?” he asked T’Pol. “I can’t make any sense of it!”

“It’s Vulcan poetry,” she calmly replied, setting her chamomile tea down on the table. She set her hands on her lap and quirked her brow. It wasn’t often that she allowed Trip the slight phantom mark of emotion or interest, but she was, as humans put it, feeling generous today. “Some of the simplest examples.”

“I can barely get human poetry; why’re you askin’ me to read Vulcan?” 

“You said yourself that you were interested in learning more about Vulcan culture,” she continued. She sat daintily beside him as the mess hall began filling with more and more hungry officers and crewmen. It was not for her own interest — it was to make Trip feel more comfortable. “Were you insincere in your request?”

“No, I wasn’t,” he sighed. He dragged a hand down his face and set the PADD on the table. “I’m just… confused? I think?” He sat up more and scooted nearer to T’Pol. “Look: if you Vulcans are so intent on keeping your emotions repressed, why’re you writing love poems? Isn’t that the exact opposite of logic? I thought love and loyalty were primitive emotions.”

T’Pol noticed his tone was even and curious; he was doing his best to be respectful. While he was clearly ignorant on the subject, he understood he was lacking the right amount of information. She appreciated his questions, she decided, and gingerly took the PADD into her own hands. “While love may not necessarily be logical when put into practice, it is still a necessary idea and feeling. We have never done away with the concept of espousing ourselves or taking mates.”

“Love is logical,” he repeated, narrowing his eyes. “It’s the one emotion you let yourselves feel?”

“It’s the one emotion we cannot control,” she corrected. “We do not let it control us like other species, but it is still present. It is possible to feel a certain… affection for others. Attachments to other beings cannot be described as an emotion to us.”

“That’s reassuring.” Trip sat up, scratching his chin. “It still doesn’t fully explain that poetry, though.”

“Which part are you having difficulty with?”

He cleared his throat and retrieved the PADD from her. He scrolled through the lines and found an excerpt. “‘While the sun may extinguish in centuries’ time, I still find restitution in the idea you will always be a constant,’” he quoted. “Or how about, ‘Talking is a waste of precious time unless I am contriving the solution to the puzzle that is your mind.’ It’s so… I don’t know! It’s cheesy, T’Pol. It’s worse than Shakespeare.”

“You do not admire Shakespeare?”

“I despise him,” he said, leaning forward onto the table. He wiped his nose with his thumb. “All that mushy crap? Not for me. I have a romantic streak, sure, but you’re never gonna see me write poetry for a girl.”

T’Pol tilted her head curiously. “To what particular lengths would you go for a ‘girl’?”

“I don’t know. I’d probably bend over backwards for her,” he answered, sitting back all of a sudden. Humans were quite restless and Vulcans never seemed to move more than an inch at a time. “It would depend on who she was and why I liked her. This one time, I liked a chick named Lynette. She really liked reptiles and frogs and bugs. Wouldn’t give me the time of day, y’know? So I trapped a boa constrictor from the Keys and brought it to her. She slapped me! I was only fourteen.”

“You’re very particular with your mates. Each woman you have been involved with has had a quality of distinctiveness that the others have not yet been able to replicate.” T’Pol folded her hands. “I have accepted that I cannot find the common denominator.”

Trip’s eyes went wide. “You’ve been watching me?”

“We are closely acquainted with each other,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, we’re friends, sure, but why’ve you been watchin’ me?” he asked again, laughing with what could only be construed as disbelief. “What business is my… mates to you?”

“I hope I haven’t offended you, Commander.”

He shook his head, setting the PADD down once again. “Well, that would depend on why, T’Pol.”

“My mission first and foremost aboard the Enterprise is to observe human culture,” she replied coolly. “That is the first reason for studying your mates. The other is to ensure your protection.”

“My protection, huh?”

“That is correct.”

Trip stared her down, setting his jaw. He was quite expressive, even for a human, which was something he shared in common with T’Pol as she was quite expressive for a Vulcan. Neither of them could see it, but it was a strengthening factor in their relationship both professionally and personally. When he finally decided she seemed sincere enough, Trip Tucker crossed his arms and relented.

“I suppose you are smarter than me,” he allowed. “And stronger.”

“And as you have put it, you are also my friend. Is that not what friendship is all about?”

“Friendship is like two planets with equal gravitational pull, T’Pol. It’s about being equals and liking each other enough to orbit each other.” He ran his tongue under his bottom lip. “Do Vulcans also experience jealousy?”

T’Pol quirked her brow again. Trip had begun to think it meant she was amused by him, but there was never any way to tell. “Only sometimes.”

“Really?” His eyebrows flew up his forehead. “What situation would make you jealous?”

T’Pol did not humor him that time. Instead, she shifted their focus back to the poetry. “Was there anything you enjoyed about this piece, Commander? Or did you dislike it entirely?”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, his voice genuine. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t offend me, Commander.”

“You’ve got that look on your face. You know, the one you make when you’re irritated.”

“I cannot feel irritation,” she said smoothly. Trip waved it away and nodded with a roll of his eyes. 

“I suppose I liked the second to last line.”

“‘When the wind calls to nothing, I still hear your name in the hollow of my mind, speaking to me as if I were there beside you,’” she read. “What about this line gives you pleasure?”

Trip’s cheeks tinted red. “I dunno. I guess the idea that you can be so close to a person that you can hear ’em. It’s sweet.” He wouldn’t look at T’Pol. She supposed he was embarrassed. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Commander. Many species share a closeness with their spouses.” 

“You say that but…” Commander Tucker trailed off. “Have you ever been in love, T’Pol?”

Neither of them said anything for approximately three seconds. Her mind was sorting through the logical responses. He was wondering how much she knew from watching him. 

“I wouldn’t know how falling in love feels like to you, but there are feelings I have been exposed to that can only be described as love.” 

“Yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?” he asked. He smiled a little, pleased with her honesty. 

“There is no ‘lucky guy,’ as luck does not exist.” She placed her hands under the table and onto her lap. “The male to whom I have developed an attachment is not relevant.”

“So there is someone,” he mused. He smirked and nodded his head. “Does he enjoy your Vulcan neuropathy?”

T’Pol was unblinking. “He has not told me otherwise.”

“You know, he might really enjoy this Vulcan love poetry. You should share it with him,” Trip continued. “I doubt he could refuse you.” He paused. “But everyone else besides me is under you, Sub-Commander. I guess that would be tricky.”

T’Pol, if she was human, would have been utterly mortified because of his response. But because she was not human, she simply twitched her eyebrows and let out a slightly faster breath than usual. It would have been nearly undetectable for most humans, as they would have searched for more clear signs of expression.

Except for Trip.

“Oh, don’t feel bad about it, T’Pol. Back when we first started our mission, I had a little crush on Hoshi. That would have been a total nightmare.” He reclined his seat, lifting the two front legs of the chair off the ground. “Not because of her, or anything, just because of my position and hers.”

“I do not recall your ‘crush’ on Ensign Sato. That is also unsafe, Commander, I would recommend putting your feet back on the floor.”

He did as she asked. He never liked to make her worry, even if her worry was so minuscule it was barely there. Repressed emotions were still emotions. “You and I didn’t get along then. Why would you have been watchin’ me back then?”

T’Pol was unable to think up an answer. “I suppose I would not have been. Still, you are quite obvious when it comes to your romantic feelings.”

“Am I?” Tucker chuckled, cocking his head at the suggestion. He knew he wasn’t exactly the best secret-keeper in the galaxy, but he doubted he was an open book.

“Indeed. Currently, you fancy someone in Engineering. Her hair is her most unique quality but you’ll find she much prefers someone who takes things much more seriously.” T’Pol gave a slow blink as if to prove her point. 

He laughed. “Lieutenant Briggs? She’s cute, but there’s nothing real there. I flirt with her sometimes but she knows it’s all jokes.”

“On the contrary, Commander, most jokes are based in reality.”

“The reality being she’s cute, but I wouldn’t want to go out with her. That’s part of the human experience — you’ve gotta know when your feelings are trying to rule over you and when your feelings are working with your logic. Some people get the hang of it better than others. You could say we’re on our way to enlightenment.”

“Is there something wrong with Lieutenant Briggs?”

“No, nothing other than she doesn’t excite me the way other women might. It’s not something I’m too concerned about, T’Pol.” The edge in his voice was close to frustration. T’Pol noticed he often felt threatened when she asked him too many questions. Still, she was not satisfied with his answers. 

“Despite your limited lifespan?” 

“All lifespans are limited.”

“You are far too picky about your mates,” she decided. She reached for her cup of tea and brought it to her lips. “How that is possible while you’re simultaneously too careless about them, I doubt I will ever know.”

His grin widened. “So I’ve stumped you?”

“For today, you have.”

“What kind of mate are you interested in, then?” he asked. She would have protested, but after such pilfering through his personal life, T’Pol knew it would only be unfair to keep that information away from him. He had been far too cooperative for her to simply turn him down.

“If I had the freedom you do,” she said expertly, “I would like a man who is physically fit and mentally sound. He should be logical enough to get through the most dangerous of situations but also sympathetic enough to raise a family. He should also prove a challenge some days; I would hate to grow bored.” 

“That’s quite a laundry list, missy.” Trip’s smile, though unlikely, had gotten even wider. “What if he doesn’t fit all the qualifications?”

“I am lucky enough to have found a candidate who does,” she replied. “When I am ready, I believe he will be easy to approach.”

“Do you, now? How easy?”

“To put it in terms you would understand, ‘Like stealing candy from a baby.’”

Trip rested his head against his fist. The adoration in his eyes was clear to see. In fact, anyone could see it for miles and miles. He was just obvious when it came to love and there was no other way to put it. “I love it when you use English idioms.”

“I’m thankful you appreciate my use of your language.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #65

On Tuesday, my therapist and I discussed the notion that I really gotta change how I look at myself, because my general assessment of what I'm worth hasn't been exactly, ah… stellar. To put it mildly. I have good days and bad days, o'course. But on my bad days, we can say that I really, REALLY don't wanna be here - in this prison of a meat-mech that I happen to inhabit, on this planet, or even in existence, generally. Truth be told, if not for the inspiration to continue that your existence provides to me, and for the people in my immediate vicinity who count on me, I would have disappeared a very long time ago. And only a very small handful of people would have missed me or even noticed that I was gone at the time.

Naturally, it's easy to see why I struggle with stuff like this. My whole life, I've been told in various subtle and not-so-subtle ways that I am a problem, that I'm so different from others that no one could possibly ever like me, that I'll never make friends because I'm "too intense", that I'm not any good, that I'm difficult to love, that I don't belong, that my existence is a burden, that I shouldn't have been born and shouldn't even be here… you get the idea.

Running around with undiagnosed autism and Complex PTSD is hard, because this isn't exactly the most common neurotype (or if it is, then other people are WAY better at pretending that they're not these things than I am), so there aren't a whole lot of folks who can relate. And then there's the fact that if you get ideas like these communicated to you for long enough, it starts to seep into your amygdala - grinds itself right into your instincts, and, well… we talked about that and how all that fun stuff works already, but you can check out the 62nd letter I wrote for you again, if you forgot.

So my therapist says I'm supposed to "love and accept myself" or whatever. And I'm thinking, "Pfft, yeah right. Everyone and their mother says I am socially unacceptable and generally unlikable. Conventional wisdom says that I am the common denominator, and therefore I must be the problem. If most people think I'm no good, then who the fuck am I to think that they're wrong? Arrogant and grandiose, much? It's bad enough that I'm a derp-ass dweeb; I don't need to be a swollen-headed, conceited, self-aggrandizing asshole on top of it all. No thanks."

But then this notion was brought to my attention:

It's so easy for me to hold love for other people that society at large doesn't like. For example, other neurodivergent people, LGBTQ+ people, disabled people, black- and brown-skinned people, and any other marginalized folks. I belong to more than one marginalized group. Lots of folks believe very firmly that anyone who belongs to a marginalized group is bad and wrong and shouldn't exist, and it's easy for me to see that most of society's views about "non-standard" folks are very wrong. People are people, and all people belong, no matter how "productive" they are or how strictly they adhere to the most widely-accepted definition of "normal".

Or… more straight to the point… a lot of people who know about you believe very firmly that you are and have always been nothing more than a violent, psychopathic, cold-hearted monster who ought to die a slow, horrible, agonizing death (as opposed to being restrained from causing further harm, and then healed and rehabilitated; restorative justice and all that). And it's easy for me to see that, although this is the popular belief, it is unmerciful (and frankly, extremely ableist) and therefore wrong. You and I are similar in a lot of ways. And it's easy for me to see you and accept you as-is, even though I very much do not like some of the choices you've made. So why shouldn't I be able to do the same for myself? Why shouldn't I be able to be confident in the knowledge that lots of people are just flat-out wrong about me?

…And just like that, any moral or logical basis I thought I had for continuing to believe that I am some horrible garbage person that no one wants crumbled and faded away, like trying to hold onto the ephemeral sands of a dream as it slips through my fingers. This happened on Tuesday. And after a day or so of processing, I feel like a massive weight has lifted off of my back, and I feel like I can breathe freely for the first time in what feels like decades. Or, well… as freely as I can, anyway, given this lame-ass rib injury that I'm still dealing with. Sigh…

Tired, though. But that's to be expected. My brain is making all kinds of new neural connections and my thoughts are flowing a little bit differently than what I'm used to. I'm asking my brain to rewire itself, and this is very resource-intensive; fatigue is to be expected because of chemistry and physics. I'm gonna have to try to hydrate extra, eat extra well, and make sure I sleep a little more reasonably so that all the new archiecture being built up in my noggin can be properly formed when it's all said and done.

Point is, today as I wandered around my silly little world doing my silly little tasks, my footsteps fell differently as I walked around with the knowledge that I belong here, regardless of what anyone else thinks. I stood a little taller. Took up a little more space. Didn't duck my head, avert my eyes to the floor, apologize for being in the way, and make myself smaller anytime another human being came within my general vicinity. I even talked to a few strangers today. And with a genuine smile - not the one I wear when I'm trying to seem agreeable so I won't get metaphorically or even physically "hit".

…And, as someone who still expects to be on the receiving end of random violence without warning, and as someone who still has to resist the urge to duck, cover my head, close my eyes, and scuttle away quickly anytime I need to pass through any group numbering more than three or so people, I can't even begin to explain to you how huge this is. To walk with my head held high and to feel unafraid outside of the walls of my own home was previously unthinkable. At least for today, I feel… free? But that doesn't seem like nearly a big enough word to describe this sensation.

I don't know how long this will last; I'm very well aware that lasting changes in a person's psyche typically don't happen overnight. Something probably will come along and I'll forget what this feels like again for some unspecified amount of time. But that's okay; the notion that I could feel this way at all, even for a moment - goodness, if I've ever felt this way before, it was so long ago that I don't remember it, because this feels very new - means that I can feel this way again. The existence of a setback always means that there has been progress; I just gotta hold onto that knowledge. And I can keep practicing what it's like to feel this way until this becomes my new normal, even if it takes a long time. Because that's how healing works. It's as slow as cold molasses, but it's still worth doing.

I'll hope with every fiber of my being that someday you can know what this feels like, also. Because that thing you did with proclaiming yourself to be a god or whatever? Anyone with half a brain knows that if you say that, you're only saying it out of insecurity, and not because you actually mean it; people who actually think of themselves as "gods" don't shut themselves away where not even the sun can touch them to spend a week starving, dehydrating, and sleep-depriving themselves in dank-ass, musty basements to read books about what a horrible monster they are(n't). This is not how people who actually love themselves treat themselves. Not by ANY ill-advised stretch of the imagination.

Rather, the thing you did is the sort of thing that people who hate themselves and are low-key trying to die do; you can't fool someone who's been there and done that (or something similar; and I didn't even get any t-shirt for it after the fact, the rotten bastards! hahaha!). I see right through you. More people can see right through you than you'd probably feel comfortable with. This'll sound harsh, but I promise you my intentions are loving: that discomfort I mentioned just earlier? Sit with it and deal with it; it's good medicine, even if it's not clear to you how or why right now. You can hold my hand if you want so you don't gotta sit with it alone. Others in the past have done this for me, and even if it sucks in the temporary, it becomes a good thing later.

Hey. You're seen and loved as-is. Not just by me, but by lots of folks. You're worth saving, because everyone is. So if you start thinking like the way to atone for your mistakes is to sacrifice your own life - stop. Just stop. Because that's not atoning. That's running away, and running away is for cowards. You don't wanna lose an endurance test to some random, clumsy, traumatized, autistic dork from some dull-ass planet in some dull-ass reality that don't even got basic fire magic, do ya? Come onnnnnn…!!!

Heal. Because I don't wanna live in some universe where someone like me is objectively stronger than you in all the ways that matter. Even if you were to show up here by some small miracle and cut me down, it'd still be the case that I am stronger than you. So get up off your butt and move; your neurons ain't gonna rewire themselves, ya know!

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[theswordwizard]

i keep seeing people complain about how "every website looks the same" and that its a sign of the end of creativity etc etc but it was always as a little throwaway line that people are supposed to go "oh yeah i've noticed that a lot of websites look similar!" and are supposed to connect that with the death of web 1 and how social media is bad and so on, but there are a LOT of reasons why many websites look the same. they can be kind of broken down into two main categories, though: the users, the way users find/use the websites.

Back in the 90s slash really early 2000s websites were still kind of gimmicky. Unless you were in a field that required the use of certain sites/databases/references/communications etc the average person wasn't online nearly as much as they were today. People also didn't have smartphones (which I will come back to later), so they were using a whole computer setup with a very specific resolution (low), and overall being on the internet was a very specific experience. But I think it's also important to note that it was more younger people using them for casual use. Web 1 was more "creative" than web 2 is deemed now because to get ON web 1, you had to have a baseline of tech and web knowledge. There were a lot less people on the internet, so you were catering to the other relatively few people that were willing to dive into computers/The World Wide Web.

Nowadays, and this is something I'm sure everyone has heard a much older person complain about at some point or another, everyone is pretty much required to use the internet. It's how you apply to jobs, school, get benefits, get healthcare, find pretty much any up-to-date information. It's actually a problem for many people that aren't able to reliably access the internet for one reason or another (major ones being houselessness, living in extremely rural areas, or just not being able to use a smartphone). When the demographic for your site changes from "people who are computer-savvy" to "ANYONE" you have to give up a lot of funny quirks. You are now catering to the lowest common denominator, which is a 70 year old who's grandchild is painstakingly trying to walk them through using a site, and hoping that this will somehow translate into them being able to use other sites, and they won't have to be doing this every other day.

Organizations, whether they are businesses or non-profit/government, have websites because they are convenient for people to be able to either get information, or because they want the user to do something (make an appointment, get a quote, buy something) - they want whoever is using their website to be able to find it as quickly and easily as possible. There is sort of a trickle-down in UI, from major companies that get a lot of users, or have the internal resources to do a lot of user testing and figure out what's easy for people to use, to then other markets who use them as reference or their guides on how to make things easily understandable for a wide range of users (Google's Material Design is often referenced). If someone knows how to use X popular site, you don't have to teach them how to use yours again if you follow their lead.

Also: predicable design and using certain web standards is a necessity for accessibility. Someone using a screen reader needs to be able to understand the information presented on a site, and having things in a predictable order, and in an order that gives the most relevant information first. This is why we are still seeing certain sites that cater to specific clientele often get a bit more creative. An artist's site doesn't necessarily need to cater to any user, they're catering usually to other artists. Now, if it's an illustrator or designer using a site as their portfolio, then they'll probably want to go back and use something that will make it easy for a reviewer going through hundreds of sites to be able to quickly view their art, without getting frustrated. Frustration from new users (as well as slow-loading sites) is one of the biggest reasons why people will ditch a new site or service. How many people have complained about how confusing something like Mastodon is to get started?

From the other direction, there is the system that surrounds the website. We've all seen complaints about how so many websites have a lot of word-salad, and it's because of SEO - Search Engine Optimization. Basically, Google ranks websites to put in search results by A) how well the actual content of the site matches the literal search, and B) what it thinks that your search is actually looking for. There are a lot of things that go into SEO and there are entire markets built around it because of how valuable ranking high with Google is - it doesn't matter how excellent your website is if people never are able to see it. Legitimate websites also have to compete with those scam sites that just dump in as much nonsense as possible to get clicks, and thus make money off ad revenue. It's a constant pain in the ass battle and Google is constantly changing how its rankings work because of the scam sites. This effects the buttons, links, how headers/subheaders/body text is used. Google wants certain hierarchies of information, and rewards sites that have them.

But the biggest reason why so many websites look a certain way is because of responsiveness. Basically as of like 2019 over 50% of visitors to a given website were usually on a mobile device. This could be any kind of resolution, depending on the type of phone or tablet. Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass it is to design a website to be responsive. You need to organize all the information in very specific ways and use flexboxes or way too many media queries to have text/images/etc set up so it transitions cleanly to different widths. The more complex the website is, the more difficult it is to do this. Simple transitions better and is less likely to break and glitch when presented in unexpected ways.

The proliferation of mobile is also the reason for a lot of other "design modernizations" that people get pissed about. Biggest example off the top of my head is the Google logo redesigns. I remember being in school everyone was complaining and joking about it. But there was a very good reason for it. Using simpler shapes for vector images makes the image load faster, and overall use less data. The new logo is only 305 bytes, while its old logo was 14,000 bytes. That is an enormous difference, especially when taking into consideration if someone on their phone has low bandwidth and/or needs to quickly search something. Again, this trickles down to other sites and other companies that want their sites to perform quickly on all platforms for all users with any level of internet connection.

Obviously there are a lot of issues with the way that the internet is set up but a lot of people miss the point as to not only why so many sites are designed the way they are, but also how we benefit every day from it.

[verdemusgo]

IDs in order of appearance (with brief references to how op introduces them for better following)

the meme op saw someone reblog: large text that reads "every day i notice patterns. and then i go to bed" over ASCII art depicting a top view of a cute cat laying in bed, face up and eyes open. there's a window to the left and a bedside table to the right

the Urban Dictionary definition for "The Noticing":

The Noticing, also spelled Noseticing, is a movement. It is the awakening to the truth. It is the ultimate red pill. The bottom of the rabbit hole. The unplugging from the matrix. The realization, the revelation, the noticing that every single time, that it is those who cannot be named that are responsible or behind every bad company, movement and organization. The Noticing is when you have special pattern recognition aka "noticing" abilities. When you can spot the common denominator in all world events and agendas. The Noticing has been largely spurred on by the Streisand Effect. And when you become aware of The Noticing, share your finding with the #thenociting so others can see the truth and help to notice even further. [in italics] Gary: Oi Tone, ever notice when you see someone or a company pushing the degeneracy. agendas and you go smash their wiki early life, that there is always a certain similarity/pattern? Tone: yeah bro, every single time. [hashtag] TheNoticing [capitalization added for accessibility] Gary: oy vey, The Noticing.

the most obviously antisemitic meme op has found: bold, uppercase text accompanying a drawing of a blue-eyed, bearded blond man with furrowed eyebrows and thumb and index finger resting on his chin. text reads:

THE CHAD NOTICER • NOTICES THINGS AND USES PATTERN RECOGNITION TO CREATE AN ACCURATE WORLDVIEW • ASTUTELY OBSERVES ANTI- EUROPEAN SENTIMENT ORIGINATING FROM SAME GROUP OVER AND OVER AGAIN. • ABILITY TO RECOGNIZE WHO 40% OF BILLIONAIRES ARE DESPITE BEING 2% OF THE POPULATION. • INCREASING HIS NOTICING ACTIVITY RESULTS IN EVEN MORE THINGS TO NOTICE

the twitter acount with alt-right terms: google search result with profile pic showing pepe the frog in a smoking suit, smiling and touching its bow tie, in front of a chess board against a nebula background. preview reads:

NatsocD - Pattern Noticer Pattern Noticer. [at] NatsocD. friendly neighborhood national socialist redpill deale Proud white man, ethno-nationalist, won't check my privilege, …

the other pages, both google search results followed by previews:

patternnoticer[dot]com Always Object: Pattern Noticer Everything is an offer, no one forced you to do anything, 13 outa 52, 109countries, noticer of patterns…

and

Chronic Pattern Noticer ([at] NoticeUrPatern) / Twitter I have never been more convinced there is a global sterilization effort to reduce fertility Both in reduction of sperm count and convincing women their …

the examples from tumblr:

"mike is beating the useless allegations in s5" mike has spent 4 entire seasons Noticing Patterns & Making Connections. if you think he's useless that's on YOU actually

tagged as "he's a certified Pattern Noticer (some might call it neurodivergence)"

and

they call me pattern noticer on account of all of the patterns i notice

tagged as "AutismCore" [capitalization added for accessibility]

Hello friends, there's a dogwhistle I've seen used a couple times on tumblr that I want to discuss.

Fellow neurodivergents especially, please listen-- towards the end of this post I describe how some in our community have been using it without knowing what it means.

A fairly common antisemitic dogwhistle used amongst alt-right circles on the internet is being a "noticer," "noticing patterns," "pattern noticer," etc. I've seen this from a couple Tumblr blogs I follow reblogging memes and such that use this term but don't provide any context about what sorts of "things" they may be noticing.

Here's the meme that I saw a blog I'm following reblog last night.

Seems pretty harmless, right? It's a meme with a cute cat.

In alt-right circles, what they are referring to "noticing" is the conspiracy theory that Jews control the world/"noticing" evidence of an imagined globalist (read: Jewish) world order/etc. If you see a meme that uses terms like "noticing patterns" that doesn't elaborate what those supposed patterns are-- just leaves you to fill in the blank yourself-- take a look at the types of things OP might be posting. The alt-right has an idea that it's forbidden to talk about who might be behind the "conspiracies" they talk about (again, the target is frequently Jewish people) so lack of context is often a red flag.

I sent the blog who reblogged this an ask informing them that the meme was a dogwhistle. If you see someone reblog something like this, check what they've been posting. If this seems like an isolated incident, the person probably reblogged it not knowing what the term actually meant. That's why dogwhistles are so effective-- to the average person they look harmless if you don't know what to watch out for!

Let's take a look at how alt-righters use this term.

Here's an alt-right definition of it from Urban Dictionary.

Oh boy, this one gets a bigotry bingo for all the dogwhistles used here. If I miss any, feel free to comment. Here are the ones I found:

-Noseticing: Noticing plus nose, based on the stereotype for Jewish people to have large noses.

-"those who cannot be named"/skirting around saying Jew: again the idea that it's forbidden to talk about who they think is behind their conspiracy theories.

-"world events and agendas": idea that Jewish people have a Globalist agenda etc etc

-Degeneracy: Nazi term to describe the behaviors/people they find undesirable.

-Early life: refers to the section in a person's Wikipedia page. If a person was brought up Jewish, it'll usually say so there.

-Oy vey: a Jewish exclamation of exasperation that Nazis have unfortunately co-opted when talking about Jewish people.

Here's probably the most obviously antisemitic meme I found.

The title and first bullet point include the "noticer" term. This meme also talks about a "group" who controls wealth. Who might the poster be referring to here?

Here's a Twitter account with many similar alt-right terms. Explicitly identifies as a Nazi and ethno-nationalist, etc etc.

A couple other pages. I clicked on them to see if I could find any more examples but the first seemed pretty blank and the second... Well, I don't have a twitter so I couldn't view.

Let's unpack these a little. The first one has "13 outta 52," a statistic used among white supremacists to depict Black people (especially African-Americans) as "savage": 13 referring to the percentage of America that is Black and 52 referring to the alleged percentage of murders in the U.S. that are committed by Black people. "109 countries" refers to the idea that Jewish people have been expelled from 109 countries during history. (Which isn't entirely true. Some "countries" in this count are actually cities, regions, etc.) Some white supremacists may use the number 110 instead to suggest that it should happen again.

The second one has a blurb alleging a global sterilization effort and concerns of fertility. This is likely in connection to pro-natalism for white people. If Nazis want a so-called "Aryan nation," they're going to want white people to populate it, and so they encourage white people to have babies for their cause. Nazi Germany employed this tactic as well, even awarding "Aryan" German women who had four or more children for their contributions to the Nazi cause.

The reason why I'm emphasizing that context matters is that some neurodivergent people have seen this and co-opted it into neurodivergent circles. As a person who is Jewish and autistic, this is pretty alarming to me. I'll show a couple examples from Tumblr:

And

I've left out the URLs of the OPs because I want to give the benefit of the doubt-- they both explicitly refer to being a "pattern noticer" in terms of neurodivergence. And it's easy to see why introducing this term to ND folks would be an easy way to get a dogwhistle passed off as harmless! Since autistic people often have analytical minds, we often make connections that others might not be able to see. But unfortunately, using terms like this only makes it much easier for antisemites to fly under the radar.

Stay safe and let's keep Tumblr free of this shit.