#one time that acronym is acceptable...

[mrs-kamishiro-official]

aww~! Isn't that lovely!

[hanzajesthanza]

dandelion is indeed the worst but if he’s not present in the next book i would legitimately be sorrowful as the whole thing will become a slog . you basically cannot have the “short stories” era-of-the-timeline iteration of geralt without dandelion, it would be like eating unbuttered bread.

though it’s not like season of storms did them dirty, i wasn’t disappointed with it (… with regards to them), but since it’s literally been over 20 years since the saga was finished i’m trying to prepare for any potential reality

[nerdygaymormon]

The LGBTQ community has seen controversy regarding acceptance of different groups (bisexual and transgender individuals have sometimes been marginalized by the larger community), but the term LGBT has been a positive symbol of inclusion and reflects the embrace of different identities and that we’re stronger together and need each other. While there are differences, we all face many of the same challenges from broader society.

In the 1960′s, in wider society the meaning of the word gay transitioned from ‘happy’ or ‘carefree’ to predominantly mean ‘homosexual’ as they adopted the word as was used by homosexual men, except that society also used it as an umbrella term that meant anyone who wasn’t cisgender or heterosexual. The wider queer community embraced the word ‘gay’ as a mark of pride.

The modern fight for queer rights is considered to have begun with The Stonewall Riots in 1969 and was called the Gay Liberation Movement and the Gay Rights Movement.

The acronym GLB surfaced around this time to also include Lesbian and Bisexual people who felt “gay” wasn’t inclusive of their identities. 

Early in the gay rights movement, gay men were largely the ones running the show and there was a focus on men’s issues. Lesbians were unhappy that gay men dominated the leadership and ignored their needs and the feminist fight. As a result, lesbians tended to focus their attention on the Women’s Rights Movement which was happening at the same time. This dominance by gay men was seen as yet one more example of patriarchy and sexism. 

In the 1970′s, sexism and homophobia existed in more virulent forms and those biases against lesbians also made it hard for them to find their voices within women’s liberation movements. Betty Friedan, the founder of the National Organization for Women (NOW), commented that lesbians were a “lavender menace” that threatened the political efficacy of the organization and of feminism and many women felt including lesbians was a detriment.

In the 80s and 90s, a huge portion of gay men were suffering from AIDS while the lesbian community was largely unaffected. Lesbians helped gay men with medical care and were a massive part of the activism surrounding the gay community and AIDS. This willingness to support gay men in their time of need sparked a closer, more supportive relationship between both groups, and the gay community became more receptive to feminist ideals and goals. 

Approaching the 1990′s it was clear that GLB referred to sexual identity and wasn’t inclusive of gender identity and T should be added, especially since trans activist have long been at the forefront of the community’s fight for rights and acceptance, from Stonewall onward. Some argued that T should not be added, but many gay, lesbian and bisexual people pointed out that they also transgress established gender norms and therefore the GLB acronym should include gender identities and they pushed to include T in the acronym. 

GLBT became LGBT as a way to honor the tremendous work the lesbian community did during the AIDS crisis. 

Towards the end of the 1990s and into the 2000s, movements took place to add additional letters to the acronym to recognize Intersex, Asexual, Aromantic, Agender, and others. As the acronym grew to LGBTIQ, LGBTQIA, LGBTQIAA, many complained this was becoming unwieldy and started using a ‘+’ to show LGBT aren’t the only identities in the community and this became more common, whether as LGBT+ or LGBTQ+. 

In the 2010′s, the process of reclaiming the word “queer” that began in the 1980′s was largely accomplished. In the 2020′s the LGBTQ+ acronym is used less often as Queer is becoming the more common term to represent the community. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for choosing my cat over my trans friend?

Some background about my cat first.

I (25F) have a pet cat named Max (not real name. It would be too identifiable if I used his real name). Max is a rescue. He had been abandoned by his previous owner because he would meow too loudly. This had happened several times, so he has been in and out of the shelter a lot. None of the previous owners had tried to figure out why he always meows so loudly, so I took him to a vet. It turns out that Max is deaf, so I don't blame him for meowing so loudly. He can't hear himself! He is scared of strangers and tends to hide, so I don't try to force him to come out if he doesn't want to. I also don't usually take pictures of him because the cameras and phones scare him. I just do what I can to respect his boundaries. Max isn't just a cat to me. He is my treasured family who brings a smile to my face everyday. I can't imagine life without him.

My friend, Amelia (22F) is trans. Her folks are transphobic and were not accepting of her when they found out. However, they had not kicked her out of her home right away. They had given her a week to pack her things and find a place to stay. I'm not sure what they were trying to do with that but another friend, Nina (24F) thinks that they did that as a manipulation tactic to get Amelia to retransition and Amelia thinks so too.

But the week had passed and Amelia couldn't find a place to stay. Nina had said she would have offered, but she lives in a small apartment that hardly had enough room for two people. So Amelia had asked out friend Ted (26M) who had also said he couldn't because he was housing his younger siblings since their parents had passed and he was struggling financially.

So that left me. But Amelia said she wouldn't be able to stay unless I got rid of Max. Why? Amelia is highly allergic to cats. Whenever she had come over to my place in the past, she had to take allergy medicine to keep from having severe allergies around Max. The allergies are bad enough that they could trigger an asthmatic attack. I told her that I refuse to get rid of Max because of his past with being abandoned. I do not want to become one of the people he distrusts, not after it took so long to get him to feel comfortable around me.

Amelia is upset with me for this and says that she doesn't want to have to always take allergy medicine. She said that I should get rid of Max because he is just a cat and his needs are not as important as hers when she could become homeless soon. I argued that he wasn't just a cat and was part of my family. Max would be staying no matter what. Amelia ended up renting a motel room, but she couldn't afford to stay for more than 4 nights. Nina ended up taking her in, but that has made her own living situation harder.

Amelia and Nina are calling me an asshole for choosing Max over giving Amelia shelter. They are saying that I am being a horrible ally and friend by valuing an animal over a human life. I don't think I made the wrong choice by choosing Max, but it doesn't feel great that they are starting to tell some other friends that I am being transphobic for not choosing Amelia. A part of me is saying that I should have chosen Amelia, but that same part is also saying I would fee guilty for being one of the people to also abandon Max if I chose to do that. Amelia and Nina barely talk to me aside from saying that I am being a transphobic asshole for "choosing an animal over a trans person's livelihood." I am thinking about just cutting them off now, but I'm afraid that would just lead to more backlash.

AITA for choosing my cat over my trans friend?

What are these acronyms?

[magicicephoenix]

Hey, I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but is it ok if you can just give me a quick explanation of dca who? au, or just send me the link to your explanation of it? I kinda just got tired from trying to find explanations of lots of aus... sorry.

hi i’m going to use your ask as a rough masterpost until i manufacture a permanent one

The DCA Who AU is inspired by the show Doctor Who. That’s why it’s called that; DCA replaces Doctor for a silly play on words. pretty please do not call it the “Who AU”, that’s not what it’s called. and you can refer to specific characters with the acronym “DW” (ex. DW!Moon, DW!Sun)

here are the designs for our main trio! the Moon and Y/N had a quick redesign so direct your attention to the second image for them. note that Y/N also wears pants and other things i just felt like giving them a skirt here :)

the Moon was inspired by the Doctor, and the Sun was inspired by the Master. and Y/N is the Moon’s companion.

Brief explanation for those who don’t know Doctor Who (but in the terms of the AU): the Moon and the Sun are of an ancient race called the Time Lords, who oversaw all of time and were very powerful. Some time ago, there was a giant battle called the Time War, in which all of the Time Lords were wiped out… except for the Moon. the Moon stole borrowed a special device called the TARDIS (Time And Relative Dimension(s) In Space), which is essentially a spaceship that is also a time machine. Years pass, and the Moon spends his time traveling from place to place; occasionally he comes across trouble, and he is one to help those who need it. The ‘start’ of the AU is when the Moon comes across Y/N during one of these bouts of trouble, and one thing leads to another and now Y/N is traveling alongside the Moon in the TARDIS!

the Sun comes much later in the story, once the Moon and Y/N become closer. he is a key antagonist and hates the Moon’s guts. why? unknown at the moment.

established lore (at the time of writing this):

the Time Lords are partly inorganic, partly organic. not just animatronics. They can open their mouths (though do not need to in order to speak) and eat. They don’t need to eat in order to survive, but it’s good for them. they also have fangs because fangs are fun. and retractable claws too.

in Doctor Who, Time Lords have a special ability that allows them to “regenerate” upon death, restoring their body with a new face and personality. in the DCA Who AU, this is replaced with a special program called the Regeneration Protocol, which kicks in when a Time Lord is fatally injured. it does a quick, barebones fix of the Time Lord’s body so that they won’t immediately die, and then initiates a mode where the Time Lord isn’t really mentally present as their body searches for materials to repair itself until they’re stable again. they will use anything (anything) in reach to do this. afterwards the Time Lord may suffer some negative effects, as running the protocol is harsh on the body & mind.

the Moon and the Sun used to be old friends. they have special nicknames for each other: “Moondust” and “Sunshine”. however, once they meet again in the AU, the Sun refuses use of his nickname. additionally, the Moon gives Y/N the nickname “Star” and also “Starlight” occasionally, and the Sun (upon meeting them) nicknames them “Dewdrop.” these names have out-of-universe significance :)

i’m using their full titles here but the Moon and the Sun are good to just be called “Moon” and “Sun”! doesn’t matter to them.

Y/N is in their 20s, lives alone, and is somewhat distant from their family. they don’t have much to return to.

the collars around the Moon and the Sun’s neck are a special cloaking device! it’s for if they time travel to a point where cyborgs/animatronic/the like aren’t considered people or are disproved of. it works as a sort of perception filter that forces the brain to gloss over the non organic parts of their appearance, essentially accepting them as whatever form of being would make sense in the scenario (ex. on earth surrounded by humans? must be human! on mars surrounded by martians? must be martian! though it usually defaults to human for simplicity’s sake, especially when the Moon’s with Y/N)

playlists

Main playlist; songs are arranged in chronological order to the AU :)

Sun's playlist; no particular order

[ghostbeam]

Oblivi_n.exe | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Notes: okay wow hiiiii it’s been a long time since I’ve posted an actual fic (nearing almost a year now😬) this is something I’ve been working on for a bit. I have mech brain rot curtesy of @streimiv and @hawnks (both of whom this is dedicated to bc there’s no way I could have written this without yapping to them abt it and also mint helped me come up w the acronym for HERO’s) and we’ve all got our own mech fics in the works atm but anywayssssss this is kind of my baby atm but I hope it makes sense it’s very inspired first and foremost by pacific rim and then also NGE (mostly through consumption of YouTube vids bc I haven’t actually watched it pls don’t hate me) it’s a whole mess of things and Dabi is kind of a bitch and reader is slowly coming into herself and at the end of the day they both wanna be metal fused to one another forever (no matter how hard he denies it) also I’m not a huge computer person idk if this title makes sense so don’t make fun of me pls ok anyways I hope u like it!!!!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, pilot!Dabi x handler!reader, there’s no explicit sexual content in this part, not even a kiss sorry guys, mentions of robot gore (exposed wires, insides described as guts), brief descriptions of being trapped inside a small space, descriptions of burning while inside said space, mention of surgery to fashion a metal jaw onto someone, mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic just allusions to the todoroki family and touya’s past), angst, many run on sentences, a small cliff hanger

Words: 7.9k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 (coming soon)

You are nothing without your machine.

It’s the first rule, the first thing beaten into his brain by his father. You carry the burden of the mech alone, or you’re weak. You don’t exist. 

U.A. raises the best and brightest pilots, navigators, mechanics, and handlers, each one carefully trained to ensure the most important outcome: winning. It should be protection. It should be defense. But if Touya has learned anything at all, it’s that winning means glory. It means worship. It means HERO’s (Human Engineered Robotic Objects) are saints, and pilots are gods. 

 Touya used to be one of those best and brightest before his accident. 

First son to Enji Todoroki, Touya was supposed to be the golden child, the first Todoroki to pilot without a handler. He was supposed to carry the burden alone, something his father couldn’t do, something only one man has ever actually been capable of. 

But Touya is born weak, bad bones, a brain unable to handle all that the mech needs to unload onto it. One too many accidents results in him being expelled from the pilot program, his HERO discarded and collecting dust in its pod, and Touya is promptly transferred to mechanics. 

It should have been a smooth transition. If one kid can’t handle it, the next will. Because they have to. 

He doesn’t take the news well. It’s a fit of tears, a persistent fight, unable to accept the loss of his machine—of his body. Because Touya loves it. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in pure passion, and despite being unable to handle the burden, there’s no denying that he’s good. He’s almost perfect. 

But almost is not enough for Enji Todoroki, and no matter how hard Touya tries, he’s made up his mind. 

After months of mechanics, Touya makes a decision. When the next fleet of HERO’s is deployed for the next kaiju battle, Touya sneaks in among the chaos, tucked neatly inside the chest of his machine where he belongs. It doesn’t take long for things to go south, for Touya to get caught in the crossfire, losing control of his mech and burning from the inside out. 

It should be an excruciating death, stuck inside a machine made for war, fire raining from above as a battle continues on outside without him. 

But he survives, because what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in resilience, and his mech is programed with solutions to every situation. He’s stuck inside for months before he’s found.

Tomura Shigaraki rescues him, pries open the chest of his mech and pulls him from inside. His group feeds him, takes him in, fashions a new jaw for him made from the metal of his mech, and allows him the decision to join their cause or go back home. 

And since there’s no home to go back to, Touya finds his footing with the league and becomes one of their top pilots. One who vehemently resists any and all handlers.

…

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Following closely behind Tenko, formerly Tomura, he quickly explains to you the in’s and out’s of the pilot/handler relationship, along with a warning about Dabi’s resentment toward the whole idea. You try to keep up, but he talks quickly and uses his hands a lot. Even so, you can tell he’s a natural leader, something he had to grow into after overthrowing the man who raised him. His story is a tragic one, and it resonates with you because Tenko came out the other side stronger. Now, the league is a community with a cause, one you really believe in. Even if you and Dabi aren’t the right fit, you still have a place here. 

You follow Tenko into what he calls the garage, a large floor of the abandoned academy that serves as the league’s base, this part of it full of HERO’s and mechanics all focused on the machines in front of them. It’s completely different from how HERO’s were worked on at UA, where you grew up, and even the PLF didn’t have one dedicated floor to this sort of work. You can feel the energy of the room buzzing on your skin, music blasting from old radios and mechanics tossing tools towards one another in a familiar routine. Tomura leads you to Dabi and his HERO, Blue, though you’re instructed not to call it a HERO around him. With goggles over his eyes and gloved hands, he brings two wires from Blue’s ankle together, sighing at the way they spark each time they connect. 

“Dabi.” Tomura calls over the music coming from the radio hanging off of Dabi’s waist. He drops the wires and his gaze flickers toward the two of you. Pushing his goggles up to his forehead, he gives you a once over. His eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen—kaiju blood blue—and burn scars litter his body. He’s striking in a way you’ve never seen, almost too beautiful to be human. Giving Dabi your name, Tomura explains that you’re taking over as his handler, seeing as he couldn’t keep the last one for more than a couple of days. “She’s your last handler. If you can’t keep this one, then go ahead and fry your brain. See if I care.”

“You say that every time.” Dabi calls from around sucker as Tomura walks away, leaving you alone with your new pilot. 

You just your hand out in a greeting, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Eyeing your hand, Dabi shakes his head and turns his back to you, picking the two wires back up and connecting them again, despite the same spark from before igniting between the two. He looks back up at Blue, touching his fingers to the slim lines starting at the back of her ankle and running all the way up her leg. You peak over his shoulder at the wiring, noticing that he’s connecting two of the wrong ones. 

“It’s the wrong wire.” You tell him, and he spins around to look at you, tearing his goggles from his face as he scoffs. 

“Here we go.” He sighs with a roll of his eyes, pulling the candy from his lips and tossing it onto the tool cart without a care. “Handler know-it-all bullshit. This is my mech.”  

You push passed him and grab the similarly colored wire from beside a red wire and connect it with the one in Dabi’s right hand. Blue lights up cyan through the thin lines that run along each of its limbs and torso, connecting with the two cameras within its head, which seem to blink before the light reaches them. 

In an instant, you’re being pushed up against the hard metal, a strong arm over your chest—pinning you up against the HERO. Dabi, now having discarded his goggles, looks at you full of white, hot rage. 

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He growls. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, eyes flickering between the snarl across his lips and his angry gaze. For a beat, you both freeze, the air suddenly charged like you’re waiting for one another to strike. Snapping yourself out of his hypnotic stare, you push against his chest, forcing him to let you go. 

“If I’m going to be you’re handler, you’re going to have to trust me with her.” You remind him. He lets out a harsh laugh, like he can’t believe you would suggest such a ridiculous idea. 

“I don’t trust anything but this machine.” He speaks, turning away from you to seal up the machine’s exposed wires. It’s a challenge you’re willing to accept.

“Well, I’m here to change that.” You tell him, before turning on your heel to leave him alone. 

He thinks he’ll give you a week. 

…

One of the worst parts of being assigned a handler, Touya thinks, is the way that pilot/handler living quarters are set up. He assumes the academy, before it was abandoned and turned into a base for the league, created this sort of set up so that handlers could keep a close eye on their pilots. The handlers Touya has burned through up until now also assumed the same. 

The door that connects both the pilot’s and handler’s dorms doesn’t lock, and all of Touya’s past handlers have taken advantage of this fact. He’s been pulled out of bed far too early, pushed around and commanded and barked at. Most handlers behaved as if pilots belonged to them, which was the sentiment drilled into their brains from being thrown into such a fucked up system at a young age.—unless you were a pilot of status like a Todoroki. While he league dedicates a lot of its time to reversing these ideas, most handlers look at Touya like some kind of challenge, this arrogant pilot begging to be tamed. It never takes long for them to realize how easily he’s able to flip the switch on them. You’ll be no different.

But hours pass and you still haven’t entered. You don’t swing the door open and demand he apologize for his behavior earlier. You don’t try and punish him with training regimes, a command of a set of push ups, a schedule you expect him to follow, an extremely detailed meal plan. The entire evening comes and goes without so much as a sound on the other side of the door so he knows you’re even behind it. 

He falls asleep unnerved by this, waking up late into the night in a cold sweat, expecting you to barge in, rip the covers from his body and demand to train together. When he wakes up (peacefully) the next morning, there’s no sign of you. He rises from his bed, drinks orange juice straight from the carton and eats a candy bar for breakfast. He fiddles with the navigation screen from his mech that stopped working a couple of days ago, tools spread out on the counter in front of him. Once he’s got the thing working again, your knock sounds from the unlocked door between the two of you. He thinks this might be it, the commands he expects to fall from your lips at the ready as he swings the door open, but you stand there, nervous, hands twitching as your eyes finally meet his.

Greeted by a shirtless Touya, hair mused from sleep, cargo pants hung low on his hips, dog tags swinging against his chest, his scars on display, unashamed and proud. The sight of him knocks the breath out of you, and you clear your throat in embarrassment, hoping your state of dreaming comes off as nerves rather than lust. 

“Dabi. Or do you prefer Touya?” You smile. When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I wanted to see if you wanted to eat breakfast together in the caf. I think we should start over. Yesterday was—”

You’re promptly cut off, “I already ate breakfast.”

With a harsh slam of the door, he leaves you stunned in your room.

You eat alone. 

When you started as a pilot, back when you’d entered UA (a few years about Touya’s accident), you went into it believing you could change the world. The exam had placed you into the position of handler, and you were assigned a pilot who had always seemed a little frightened of you despite your obvious lack of authority. Bringing the fact up to your instructors did nothing. They all assured you that this was the ideal dynamic, that the handler always had the upper hand, but you hated that feeling. You weren’t a team like you expected to be; you were urged to control your pilot. You were there to keep them in line, not to be a pillar of support. The bond was never built on trust, and the soul link was always a looming threat. No matter how many pilots you went through, the link was never held as a gift, but a prison, something you would both be stuck with for the betterment of society, a sacrifice to make. 

You’d been expelled from the handler program after guiding your pilot to help save another in the wreckage of your first battle together, resulting in the damage of your pilot’s HERO. Your pilot was okay, but the other couldn’t be saved, and you were blamed for the damage of both mech’s. 

When you found the league (or when the league found you), you were working with the PLF, but proved to be a weak handler. Every pilot you were assigned to took advantage of your optimistic outlook on the kind of relationship dynamic that pilots had with their handlers. Despite all that you had been through at UA, and with the rest of the pilots you’d been paired with after, you never gave up the hope that handlers and pilots could behave as a team, or, even better, one entity. 

Tenko had taken one look at you and demanded you’d be transferred to the league. There hadn’t been much of a choice in the matter, not that you really cared. You were miserable everywhere else. But when you arrived at the abandoned academy and taken a peak behind the kudzu covered walls where each and every area of the building acted as multiple moving parts in collaboration with one another in order to create one massive system, you realized that this was the future you imagined for yourself—and for the world you lived in.

Tenko saw something in you that day, something you aren’t sure you even see in yourself. And so Dabi was your first task, one that’s proving to be very difficult. But he doesn’t treat you like all the other pilots before had. He doesn’t use you. In fact, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. And while that’s a problem, it’s still one you can work with. 

You’re broken from your thoughts by the sound of a voice through an overhead intercom asking for everyone to meet on the first floor of the academy at their earliest convenience. Judging by the quick movements of those around you, you figure you’d better head downstairs as soon as possible. 

The meeting on the first floor makes you very aware of just how small the league really is. While it’s definitely not a tiny organization, it’s still much smaller than both UA and the PLF. With everyone piled up like this in one group, you realize it feels more like a community, and the hum of conversation that surrounds you comforts you in a way you’ve never felt within the walls of any other academy before. 

There’s discussion about the upcoming mission, one which may be the league’s most ambitious yet; the plan to hijack a mech and kidnap a pilot may be a little unorthodox compared to the league’s past missions, but the jaded pilot they’re targeting has a high chance of joining the cause. Or that’s what they have assumed. As the bodies move and speak around you, it strikes you how different this meeting is from any other meeting you’ve ever been a part of. Tenko is less a dictator and more a wrangler for the disembodied voices of your peers. 

You don’t know much about his story, save for the vague details you’ve heard, but Tenko’s status as a lone handler is something you find yourself curious about. If he’s able to work without a pilot, why can’t you? It’s an idea you keep in your back pocket, one you think you can fall back on if things with Touya don’t work out. But you want them to work out. So badly. 

You aren’t sure what it is about him, but he’s reignited that spark inside of you. You know he’d rather you give up, and maybe the you from a couple of months ago would have, but something about him—and this place—won’t let you leave. 

As you observe the meeting, you take the time to look around the room, taking in your peers and their attentive faces as they listen to Tenko intently. You turn to your right, your eyes meeting a pair of blue ones, impossible to miss. Dabi holds your stare for what feels like ages, and when your colleagues erupt in a fit of many simultaneous discussions, you tear your eyes from his to observe the commotion. When you glance back in his direction, he’s gone. 

You don’t seem him again after that. You train with other handlers, get to know your peers a little better. Everyone else seems to be welcoming, and most offer you sympathy when they find out you’re Touya’s new handler. From what you can gather, he’s had his fair share of them, all of which have quit or left in hysterics due to his harsh nature. When you ask around about where he could be, you’re told that he’s most likely in the garage, a place you assume he’s in more often than not.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the garage. A place so completely different, so against the ideas and beliefs of any other academy you’ve been a part of, the chaos and community within is so foreign to you. You find Touya with Blue, working inside of her chest, where the cockpit is. 

“Touya!” You call up to him and watch as he peaks his head over the edge of her metal plating. Annoyance falling across his face, he jumps down from where he stands, landing hard on his feet in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” He questions, his figure so tall and imposing above you. He’s not particularly muscular, not even all that tall compared to Tenko, but he makes you feel small regardless, in more ways than one. Rolling your shoulders back, you stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down. 

“I figured you wanted your space today.” You explain, as Touya moves around you to get to his rolling cart of tools, forcing you to turn toward him and follow him if you want him to hear you. “I know adjusting to a new handler is rough, and I never want to make you uncomfortable. But I was thinking we could try some of those pilot/handler bonding exercises. It might be good to start training like some of the others do.”

He drops the wrench in his hand onto his cart with a loud thud, turning around toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “Pilot/handler bonding exercises? They really brainwashed the shit out of you at UA, huh?”

At the mention of your past academy, your eyes widen in surprise. You had no idea he knew about that. Clearing your throat in order to compose yourself, you speak again, “I left UA for a reason. I have no attachment to their methods, but you guys do the same stuff here, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I never asked for a fucking handler in the first place, especially not one as eager as you.” He spits, “Sure, you’re understanding now, all that bullshit about ‘giving me space,’ but the moment you get a lick of power over me, you’ll change. You’re not different.”

“I don’t want power over you. This is an equal exchange. Pilot’s and handlers are meant to be a team—” You try and argue, but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“That’s what they told you, right? We’re a team, and as teammates, you make sacrifices. And it doesn’t matter if one of you turns into the other’s braindead dog because that’s your place.” His words hit you hard, the exact thought process you went through when leaving UA, completely disillusioned with their idea of “teamwork.” He’s right, and you know it, but since coming here, you thought that wasn’t how it had to be.

“Look, trust me, I get—” You’re cut off again.

“You went to UA! There’s no trusting you.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’ll last here, anyway.”

“You are such a hypocrite! You’re from UA!” You retort, throwing your arms up in desperation. “You can hate me all you want. You can resist and resist and fry your brain ‘till there’s nothing left, but I believe in this shit. And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t, or tell me I’ll turn into something I worked so hard to get away from.”

Touya stands there, surprised by your outburst, completely unaware that you were capable of all of that. He doesn’t say anything back, and you roll your eyes. “So fuck you, and, by the way, her angel port is smoking.”

At your words, he turns in a rush, seeing the smoke billowing from Blue’s chest as he climbs his way up her form. Once inside his machine, he extinguishes the port and allows himself to relax. There are two things on his mind in this moment: how you could have possibly known it was the angel port without being inside of Blue’s chest and how, for the first time in a long time, he feels bad for his handler.

But for you, it’s the first time you’ve ever held your own against a pilot before, and that feels good.

…

Something feels weird.

Off, unsettling, strange.

He realizes, much to his dismay, that it’s your absence. Despite only having you around for such a short time, Touya has realized that your lack of presence now feels wrong. He hates it. He hates you. 

He can’t find you. You haven’t knocked on his door. You’re not in the caf, not the garage, not the sparring floor, not in your room. And he did check—without knocking. 

He’s not even sure how he can feel an absence. You aren’t a regular part of his life, and he never wanted you to be. But he feels all fucked up.

During training, Touya jams Blue’s halo core and she leaks vibrant neon from between her ribs. It takes him half an hour to get her reboot her system and rips one of the cables attached to the back of his suit in the process. He spends the afternoon cleaning HERO fluid off the sparring floor. 

During repairs, he shocks himself over and over while trying to fix her core, fingers burning from the sparks each time he arranges the wires inside. The cameras in her eyes won’t work from the reboot, and Blue won’t let him unlock the lens panel to fix it. It’s almost like she’s mad at him too.

He’s a complete mess. It’s your fault. He has no choice but to go looking for you. Again.

He searches every wing of the academy before concluding that you’re in your room. He barges through the joint door, spotting you at the counter in your tiny kitchen. You’re surprised by the intrusion, a frightened gasp falling from your lips as you jump in your seat. You turn toward him, prepared with angry words on your tongue, but Touya speaks first.

“You’re not getting an apology out of me, so don’t expect it.” He begins, moving to stand in front of your swiveling kitchen stool as he looks down at you. “But I’m willing to be civil with you, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what “this shit” is, but Touya looks a little worse for wear at the moment, so you don’t question it. He places a tray from the caf down in front of you that you hadn’t noticed in his hands upon arrival, says nothing else, and turns to leave the room. After shutting your joint door, you look down at the tray of food, noticing one of his suckers placed onto a vacant compartment of the tray. 

You’re greeted the next morning with a knock on your door, Touya dressed in his pilot’s suit on the other side as you swing the door open. “C’mon. You’re gonna watch me train today.”

You watch him turn around to leave, expecting you to follow. You rush to pull on your combat boots and grip your dog tags in your fist as you rush to catch up to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you fall into step beside him, taking a look around his dorm before he leads you through the exit door. 

“You need to get a feel for my fighting style.” He explains as you walk down the corridor. “I’m not saying I’ll listen to you when it comes down to it, but it’s important for you to know.”

You nod, agreeing that you should definitely observe him inside of his HERO. By understanding his moves, you’ll be able to understand the way he thinks, and you’ll be able to help him in actual combat if needed. He’s already said he won’t listen to you, but it won’t stop you from trying. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you, and you stop with him. 

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’m not your dog.” He tells you, seriously. He eye’s you up and down, taking in your expression as you nod at his words. “If anything, you’re mine.”

He begins walking again, leaving you in your spot, irritation filling your chest as you watch him, smug. “Asshole.” You curse under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He barks, turning to look at you abruptly.

“You’re an asshole.” You speak louder. He walks back toward you, making sure to tower over you intimidatingly as he looks down at you in annoyance. His eyes flicker down to the tags around your neck before hooking a finger on the chain and pulling you closer. 

“Watch it.” He drops the chain and walks away again. 

You follow him to the sparring floor, and he shows you where to go to watch. Stood behind a large window that looks over the sparring area, other members of the base watch the HERO’s engage in combat below. You spot Tenko and he motions for you to stand beside him. 

“I knew he’d warm up to you.” He comments. The last of the previous battle finishes and you watch the two enormous machines retreat to the sides of the area, their pilots emerging from their chests with their handlers rushing to the bottom of the mech’s in support. 

“He hasn’t. He’s not.” You shake your head. You aren’t sure why you deny it, if it’s some way to keep your expectations low or if there’s some kind of embarrassment aspect to the whole thing. Whatever is happening between you and Touya feels intimate and private, something that the two of you need to figure out for yourselves, not something meant for the eyes of others.

“Hm. Okay.” Tenko shrugs. “Guess not.”

You hadn’t noticed Touya enter his mech at all. You see the swing of one giant mechanic arm, too close to the window you stand behind, and you’ve shifted your full attention to the scene at hand. 

The enormity of the room surprises you, despite the fact that you had seen it just moments before. But when you’re truly looking at it, watching these huge machines go at each other, the way the ground shakes, the leaves outside shake, the deep forrest clear in view from the wall that opens out to the greenery (the lack of a wall is likely from the academy’s abandoned state, but it’s a good feature to have on the sparring floor when giant robots are toppled over onto various surfaces).

The way Blue moves is electric, mechanic movements almost feel fluid with the way that Touya pilots her, easily dodging attacks from their opponent and moving around them in the most graceful way a giant machine can. It’s beautiful, unlike any fighting style you’ve ever seen in a HERO before. 

“He’s showing off for you.” Tenko observes from beside you. You don’t argue with him, only because you can’t dispute it. This is your first time seeing him in action. It makes your heart beat out of your chest. There’s this ache like you should be inside with him, cables connected to both of you, tucked neatly inside of Blue together. 

It doesn’t take him long to get his opponent on their back, the heavy thump against the floor jostling the ant-like figures on the ground below, handlers waiting for their pilots to finish. It goes on like this for a while, his training, using different methods of combat and winning each time. He’s amazing, and you can tell why his reputation is the way it is, second only to Tenko, who you have yet to see in action. 

When he finishes his last session, you watch Blue walk to the edge of the room, and Touya emerges from her chest, jumping the long way down her body without any issue. You watch as he looks toward the window you’re behind. He waves at you, an acknowledgment of your presence, and you wave back, though you aren’t sure he can actually see you.

It’s the beginning of everything for the two of you. You think Tenko was right.

He lets you stay with him afterwards while he does maintenance on Blue. He helps you climb up the path to her chest, hauling you over the edge to sit inside with him. He turns around abruptly, holding a hand up before allowing you to walk any further.

“Do not touch anything.” He warns, completely serious, before letting his hand fall and allowing you further into the cockpit. You take in your surroundings, the guts of his machine, analyzing the different control panels and screens that line the interior. You can tell he takes good care of her, and he spends a lot of time in here. It looks lived in, stickers stuck to metal plating and pieces of him all over. He’s made a second home in between the ribs of his mech. You feel a little jealous, though you aren’t sure of what. 

The two of you sit against the left side of Blue’s interior, waiting for her updates to finish, the loading screen on each of her monitors display a fire graphic that grows with the increasing percentage on screen. Between you and Touya sits an opened bag of sour gummies, which Touya picks out the lemon flavor and drops the candy in your palm with each new handful he gathers. 

“How do you know all this stuff?” He questions around a mouthful of sour cherry, “Like, the real names for things, where stuff goes, how to fix them. That day with the wires…”

“I spent a lot of time around mechanics at UA, and then also at the PLF.” You explain, picking the yellow colored candy from his open palm as you speak. “I couldn’t connect with other handlers. I didn’t like how they thought, or how they viewed the pilot/handler relationship. Mechanics were mostly neutral, and they loved these machines like nothing else. They reminded me of why I joined UA in the first place.”

“Hm.” He nods, thinking about your past. “Well, I guess if you spent so much time around actual professionals…I could maybe use your help sometimes in the garage.”

“Really?” You question excitedly, a spark lighting up your eyes as you swerve your head toward him. He feels something tight in his chest at the sight.

“Yes, but only on the outside. I don’t want you messing with her insides, yet.” He establishes. “And never alone. I have to be there at all times.”

“Of course, yes, oh my god. Touya!” You smile, gripping his shoulder firmly, a gesture of thanks, communication of how much his trust means to you. “I’ll be so careful with her, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, you have no other choice.” He shrugs, throwing another pile of candy in his mouth. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

You take the threat seriously, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s realized that you’ve wormed your way into his life and he hadn’t even noticed just how entangled you were now. 

As the weeks go by, you spend a lot more time together. You work on blue together, and you rest inside of her chest, sometimes allowing yourself to drift off against his shoulder on especially tiring days. He sits beside you in the caf, and while he doesn’t always say much, the feeling of his arm against yours is comforting. You can tell people are starting to notice, and they’re starting to talk. You’re being dubbed someone who’s tamed him, but you know how far from the truth that is. 

Despite your differences and the petty arguments that come up when Touya feels like you’re intruding on his independence, you’re growing attached. You wonder if he is, too.

…

Spending time together in the garage becomes the new normal for the two of you. Being in each other’s dorms feels far too intimate, so you always meet in the garage. This way, one of you is always busy doing something with your hands. There’s no room for any strange feelings in the pit of your stomach to seep in. 

You sit in the crook of Blue’s neck, watching Touya as he repairs the lenses in her “eyes.” Blue has three pairs of eyes; in her head, her chest, and down near her hips, which all footage is projected onto monitors inside the cockpit so that Touya has a full view of what’s in front of him. 

He’s so peaceful while he works, you’ve noticed, almost like he goes somewhere else completely. It’s a part of him you don’t think many people get to see, a piece of him just for you, and you want to be selfish with it.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, leaning your head back against the metal. “But you can’t get mad.”

He looks up at you, still fiddling with a lens, a mocking look on his face. “I’m not making any promises.”

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the possible fallout of the question you’re about to ask, “What do you think about the soul link?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do it.”

You nod your head in understanding, “yeah, I get it. It’s weird, right? The idea that someone else would be inside your brain.”

“It’s fucking invasive.” He says.

“You know, at UA it always felt like a threat, you know. Like, it was a way for a handler to control their pilot, not a tool or a bond like it should be.” You begin, thinking back to how you viewed the soul link back then. You didn’t like how the bond was presented as this power that a handler holds over their pilot, a threat to keep their pilot in line. But, you could understand how the link could be used for good. “But since coming here, I can tell it’s not all bad. People trust each other here. I mean, there’s obviously some people who abuse it, but, for the most part, everyone seems to understand what it really means to be a pilot and a handler.”

You’re mostly just thinking out loud, but Touya doesn’t say anything to your ramblings. He continues to work on the lenses, and you can gather that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. But you can’t let it go, yet. There’s something you’ve been worried about since you met him.

“And what about…your brain? They say when a handler and a pilot don’t complete the soul link, the pilot will eventually fry their brain.” You can’t help it. You think about it all the time, what will happen when he can’t take it anymore. The closer you get to him, the realer it feels. “Are you ever worried about that?”

He looks at you, an expression you can’t quite make out fall across his face as he stares. It’s almost soft, the way he looks at you in this moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The truth is, this is a reality Touya has accepted. He’s not afraid to die, and he never has been. He’ll probably die inside of Blue, and he has no problem with that fact. He doesn’t need to be around for long, just enough to show his dad what he’s capable of.

“C’mon.” You stare. “That’s not fair.”

“Shit. I left some of the screws for this in my dorm.” He curses. He looks where you lounge, tucked into Blue’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

You watch him jump down, much higher than his usual height at her chest, but he lands anyway. He doesn’t turn to look back at you as he jogs away. You climb up the side of Blue, and look at the lenses in her head. They’re already repaired, and you know Touya used the excuse of missing screw just so he wouldn’t have to talk about the soul link.

But it’s the first time he’s ever left you alone with Blue before. 

…

As the mission draws closer, Touya throws himself into training. You’re on the training floor with him most days, standing behind that big glass panel as you watch him spar with his peers. He still doesn’t let you down on the floor with him until he’s full out of Blue and close enough to the edge of the sparring floor to get to you. You’re not allowed in the actual training area, and even though he says he doesn’t want you clinging to him, it’s really because he wants to keep you safe. Seeing your human body near the giant machines that are HERO’s makes him want to grab you and keep you inside of Blue’s chest forever. 

You can tell all the training is taking a toll on him. With an excess of headaches and the occasional nosebleed, you continuously get into arguments about him cutting back on training inside of Blue. There are other ways for him to prepare that don’t involve his fragile brain being hooked up to an entity that takes so much. He doesn’t listen.

Later and later into the night, as your fellow pilots and handlers disperse and return to their rooms to sleep, Touya stays inside of Blue, testing her movements and sparring against test dummies and obstacles. Once you and Touya are the only two left on the sparring floor, you speak into the intercom attached to your head.

“Touya, I think you should take a break.” You tell him, “It’s late. Get some rest and then we can pick it back up in the morning.”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m gonna stay for another hour. Get some sleep. I’ll be done soon.”

“No, Touya. You’ve been at it for hours. You barely took a break for dinner. C’mon.” 

“You know, you sound awfully like a handler trying to tell their pilot what to do.” He teases, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

“You are insufferable. I’m worried about you.” You groan.

“I’m fine. Go sleep.” He insists.

“If I find out you aren’t out of here in an hour—” Your line is promptly cut off, leaving behind static in your ear. You sigh and throw your com to the side. You hope he’s telling the truth.

With one last look at Blue, you make your way out of the training floor and find your way back to your dorm. 

Touya doesn’t answer the door when you knock the next morning. With a frustrated groan, you leave your dorm and head to the training floor, assuming he woke up early to get some extra hours in. The closer you get the the floor, you notice other members of the base rushing in front of you. Feeling panicked, you pick up the pace, jogging toward the training room to make sure something isn’t wrong. You collide with a body in front of you, nearly falling to the floor as you steady yourself. Toga stands in front of you, her cheeks red and eyes glossy as she explains something your mind can’t catch up to understand. The only thing you recognize is his name, and you’re running toward the training floor in an instant. 

You watch as Blue stomps around the area, her arms swinging in all directions, losing her footing as she moves. Knowing you can’t do anything on the floor, you make your way up to the overlook, finding Tenko yelling into your intercom. 

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” You ask him, pulling the headset off of his head and placing it on yours instead. 

“He’s out of fucking control. He won’t answer. I don’t even think he’s conscious in there.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in anxiety. “You’re not linked yet, are you?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes in frustration as you try to think. You know it’s the only way. You have to take some of the burden off of him, make him share it with you. It’s the only way he’ll survive right now. “Do you think you can get into Decay right now and knock him down somehow?”

He hesitates, “I can get inside. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to touch him at all.”

“You have to.” You plead, desperately. “I just need him down for ten seconds, tops. As long as I can get inside of her, I can save him.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, and maybe you are. But you know you can’t live with yourself if you don’t try something. Tenko nods.

“I can do it.” He tells you. You rush passed him, following the stairs down to the training area. You feel Tenk grab your wrist firmly. “You bring him back, okay?”

“I will.” You nod. 

He dodges Blue’s movements, weaving between her legs as he finally makes it to Decay. It takes a few moments for him to connect, but he goes straight for Blue. You watch the giant machines fight one another, but it’s clear that Blue’s lack of control hinders much of her ability. She needs Touya just as much as he needs her. It’s tough for Decay to dodge her swinging arms, but Tenko manages to knock her down quickly.

The fall shakes the room, but you waste no time running for Blue. Climbing over the side of her, you manage to touch your thumb to the pad on the outside to open her chest up. She begins to stand up, and you slip down, grabbing onto a bar beneath her ribcage. You let out a frustrated groan as you try to pull yourself up over the edge of the cockpit. Finally making it over, you see Touya sitting there, still connected to his pilot’s chair, eyes glazed over and blood gushing from his nose. You push the button that closes the panel in Blue’s chest, and you’re suddenly alone with him. 

Touya’s body is being jerked around by the movement of the mech, and you hang onto the walls of her chest in order to make your way to him. You situate yourself in his lap, taking his head in your hands as you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“You fucking asshole! I told you to take a break.” You sob, resting your head against his as you try and think of what to do next. “Touya, please. Please, baby, I need to you come back. Just fucking come back so I don’t have to do this without your permission, please.”

With no response from him, you wipe your tears, coming to terms with the fact that you have to complete the soul link now, or he’ll die. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Touya. Please forgive me.”

The soul link isn’t exactly an action so much as it is a feeling, an experience. There’s no trigger for it, no way to make it happen. It just begins. 

It’s Touya, aged thirteen, wild, chubby-cheeked and happy, in the pilot’s seat of his father’s HERO. It’s his drive, his determination, his anger, his hurt. It’s the day he snuck into battle, the day he couldn’t get out, flesh burning and fusing to the metal walls of his mech, the feeling now deep in your skin. It’s you, aged fifteen, hopeful, alive, shaking hands with your first pilot. It’s your heart, much too big and much too open for your line of work, it’s your passion, your fire, every piece of you that was broken down again and again until there was nothing left. It’s Touya and it’s you, and every single bit of your souls now tied together in one big knot. 

There’s nothing but darkness. And then there’s screaming. And then you can hear everything. Every thought running through Touya’s brain right now echoes in your head as you slowly come back to yourself. He can hear the same of yours.

It’s overwhelming at first, to have two sets of thoughts in your head at the same time, but you manage to focus. You can feel an anger inside of you like you’ve never felt. It’s almost like it’s your own. You need to come back. You’ve lost control of Blue.

In an instant, you feel yourself come back to your body, now straddling Touya like before, you feel his arms shoot around you and he tucks his chin over your shoulder to pilot Blue like he’s used to doing. He pays no mind as he presses up against you, but you feel your heart rate increase at the closeness. 

He’s so close.

I have to be. You’re in my lap.

Shit. I didn’t think—

Clearly.

I can’t fucking believe you. I told you we weren’t going to do this.

You were dying!

Then you fucking let me!

You’re jostled around in his lap for a moment as he stops Blue from destroying any more of the training floor, and Touya wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady.

He gains control of her quickly, moving her toward the edge of the room. You tuck your face into his neck, not wanting to distract him and keeping your thoughts at bay so you don’t overwhelm him. He powers Blue down, severing the neural connection between the two of you, and shoves you from his lap and into the pilot’s chair like you’ve burned him. He storms out of the cockpit, climbing out of his machine and leaving you inside. You think about the argument you had within each other’s head, how Touya would have rather died than be linked to you like he is now. 

You slump against the seat, comforted by the metal cage you’ve been left inside of. 

[creature-wizard]

A warning for trauma survivors looking for online support

You may have come across the acronym "RAMCOA", which stands for "ritual abuse, mind control, and organized abuse."

If you search the Internet for RAMCOA, you might come across a result like this:

If you click the link, you'll be taken to a site that briefly describes what RAMCOA supposedly is, with content like:

MC - Mind Control. A shortened form of TBMC, standing for Torture Based Mind Control. MC is also known as programming, where victims are repeatedly tortured starting at a very young age to intentionally cause a system of dissociated parts that function perfectly to suit the abusers' needs.

alpha : a base program, one of the very first implemented. it trains the victim's mind to accept every order given by handlers willingly. parts with alpha programming will often have no will of their own, and very little personality outside of following orders.

aiw : alice in wonderland. typically split into 3 different sections : black alice, white alice, and crazy alice. ideally, a system scripted with aiw would have all three. white alice makes sure the system forgets the trauma, black alice makes the system feel like theyll be a danger to others if they remember the trauma, and crazy alice makes the system think theyre making it up or going insane if they ever remember it.

Literally all of this comes from a conspiracy theory - specifically, the Project Monarch alter programming conspiracy. It was developed and pushed by far right conspiracy theorists. Most of what people run into specifically traces back to Fritz Springmeier, a man who claimed in the 90's that the fight for gay rights was part of a plot to enthrone the antichrist in the year 2000. The Project Monarch conspiracy theory was always adjacent to the Satanic Panic, if not a somewhat niche part of it. If you start checking citations, you will find many of these people citing Svali, a conspiracy theorist who gets a lot of her material from Springmeier. (Example 1, example 2.)

This is no accident. The term RAMCOA was created by the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation (ISSTD), which was created by and for psychologists who believed in the myths promoted during the Satanic Panic.

The RA part comes from "satanic ritual abuse," which was coined by Dr. Lawrence Pazder of Michelle Remembers (cw for descriptions of horrible abuses) fame. Lawrence Pazder is the man who effectively started the Satanic Panic. It cannot be overstated that Pazder, now a known malpractitioner, was considered the expert on ritual abuse during this time.

The MC part comes from "trauma-based mind control," which was coined to refer to the alleged abuses inflicted in Project Monarch. Parts of this conspiracy theory that can't be traced back to Fritz Springmeier can usually be traced back to Cathy O'Brien and Mark Phillips, two other (really racist) conspiracy theorists.

Ultimately, the entire conspiracy theory is constructed from tropes that go back to The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion (a known antisemitic hoax), blood libel, and early modern witch panic.

Searching the Internet for RAMCOA resources, ritual abuse, or trauma-based mind control will always bring you to conspiracy theorists.

(Also, the term OEA, which stands for "organized extreme abuse," will lead you to conspiracy theorists as well.)

So yeah, if you're looking for support, be very wary of this stuff. It will absolutely not help you heal; just the opposite.

[yoredoesmore]

The Life of A Married Couple | Soshiro Hoshina | IDMCWBM

a/n: “I Drink My Coffee With Blueberry Milk” is my new mini series featuring a stoic and always serious reader and her funny and teasing husband (Soshiro)! “IDMCWBM” is a long acronym but we will live 

(I'm not dead guys, exam season is almost over please bear with me! > <)

Husband Soshiro who has multiple folders dedicated to different pictures of you. One is for funny pictures, one is for candid pictures, one for professionally taken images and so many more the list goes on!

You who pretends to not be affected by the fact that you haven't seen your husband in 12 hours but the second someone mentions his name you melt internally 

Husband Soshiro who leaves his office door unlocked at night because he knows that you like to take a nap in there. You act like its no big deal when he catches you but he absolutely loves it

You who once tried to make his favorite dish for him but you ended up creating something so gruesome and terrible that Hoshina lost his appetite that day and has ever since claimed a new dish as his new favorite (don't mention the old dish, he will get war flashbacks)

Husband Soshiro who buys you a cup of flan every month and places it in the exact same spot in the fridge every time, because during your first date you mentioned your love for flan. (You actually prefer pudding over flan but he got it mixed up but that is a secret you will take to the grave)

You who personally tends to his blades, fixes them up and polishes them whenever necessary, since you are the only person Soshiro trusts them with.

Husband Soshiro who once overheard a cadet make an inappropriate comment about you and later that day completely demolished him during the combat training session. He walked away smiling, not even bothering to help him up, which earned him many suspicious looks from the others. (Especially Kafka found himself freaked out by the Captain's roughness)

You who goes lengths to ease up your husbands work life. “Oh, these folders are supposed to be inspected by the Vice Captain? No worries, I will handle them myself.” No matter how much needs to be done in your own office, you will do anything so that Soshiro can rest a little more.

Husband Soshiro who agreed to a “no display of intimacy/PDA in public and especially not at work” rule but he can't help himself but pull you into an empty training room every now and then and show you just how much he needs you. You pretend to be upset but not so deep down you need this just as much as he does (you end up initiating round two)

a/n: I could write these for hours :>. To everyone who has send in a request, please bear with me I'm working on them !! > < for the time being please accept my crumbs

[probablyasocialecologist]

Hasbara is a Hebrew word defined by the Israeli government as “public diplomacy” that seeks to “influence the perception of Israel abroad.” Critics like Noam Chomsky, meanwhile, have described hasbara more bluntly as a “sophisticated system of propaganda.” On the internet, hasbara now includes a network of websites and users dedicated to manufacturing pro-Israel posts and manipulating social media platforms to remove content sympathetic to the Palestinian cause. The online Hasbara Machine is sophisticated indeed, and its existence raises an important question: why doesn’t anyone in a position of power seem to be concerned? So far, the Washington Post is one of the only prominent news outlets to touch this subject. In an eye-opening January 25 article for the paper, Taylor Lorenz describes a variety of websites and apps that “help automate pro-Israel activism online.” As it turns out, this is an understatement. One website uncovered by Lorenz, called “Project T.R.U.T.H.,” claims to generate AI “fact check” responses to posts about Israel, ready-made for the user to copy and paste online. (The acronym stands for “Timely Responses for Unbiased Transparency and Honesty.”) Two others are called “Moovers” and “Words of Iron.” On these sites, users are not only supplied with pro-Israel content to post, but encouraged to report as “hate speech” designated posts that criticize Israel or express sympathy for Palestinians. When I first read it back in January, I found Lorenz’s article incredibly disturbing. So I decided to visit a few of these websites and see for myself how they operate. What I found only increased my alarm. 

[smilepilled]

The image descriptions are available on ALT text. The poster of this term directs its heartfelt thank-yous to @rwuffles, @hysangel && @wilted-blades for helping with such.

Floszuadarlit 【🪦】 a term for one who is queer { or not! } && feels haunted by previous historic of bigotry. This may have to do with being queerphobic as a whole, being anti-microlabels, against contradictory labels, neopronouns/xenogenders, or the like — but in the past. They feel guilty for it, and wish they had stopped sooner than they did. This term is made for mourning, and not for selfharm.

Etymology: "Uada" is latin for something along the lines of "haunted"; "Flos" is latin for many flower-related things; "Lit" is just the ending syllable, but was also chosen because it also means the person has been "lit" into the gentle, burning light of acceptance and community.

Flag symbol drawn by me this time... Mwehehe.

Made with { @floraeth } for The THIRD AND FOUR DAYS (LINK) of THE MOGAI TEAM-UP EVENT (LINK) by { @rwuffles } — our team is "THE SWARM" (LINK) !!!

Note: Very self indulgent, based on my experiences, and what I believe many others experience. This term will eventually have a nicer version in the following prompts, but for now, this is my offer for you! Please have a lovely day, and enjoy...

Anyone may use my terms and flags, however, I will block as I deem fit for my wellbeing (LINK). Please only post this to WIKIs with appropriate crediting towards me (&& others involved with my creation). Do not repost to any other social platforms, ONLY WIKI PAGES. Thank you!

Taglist: @radiomogai, @lovesse, @lunentity, @rwuffles, @kiruliom, @nqvo / @cheruvic, @inknoidd, @h-halos, @puppfie, @gender-mailman, @hypnosiacon, @losergendered, @rabidbatboy, @acronym-chaos, @daybreakthing, @gengernoway, @calypsoscyclone, @local-maneater , @scr-ppup, @sevvys, @puriette-archived, @floraeth, @bluecube-coins, @idwl. Please, feel free to ask to be removed from/added to the list. (You're also welcome to ignore this!)

{ BANNER ID CAN BE FOUND IN ALT TEXT ! }

[verysium]

need more of your sae for scientific reasons. very important

here you go lovely:

sae has zero taste in fashion unfortunately. if it covers his body and does not get in the way of football, then it works for him. that's also the reason why he accepts christmas sweaters with the most atrocious color combinations. he genuinely doesn't know that they're ugly (and also doesn't want to upset his mother and elderly aunties.) still has a pair of bright turquoise swim trunks from when he was a preteen with "i ♡ seagulls" printed all over them. he never threw them out and still wears them on summer trips. did not understand why half the beachgoers were side-eyeing him.

sae cannot comprehend internet slang. if you send him any acronym, he will read it out loud in the literal sense. would flick you on the forehead if you said he was becoming too millennial. he was born in the 2000s but cannot relate to anyone in the same generation.

sae would adopt a cat, but it would be a reverse adoption. the cat would choose him and not the other way around. he would not bother with it other than the required feeding and grooming. tried to play with it once, but it hissed and scratched at him. both of them just exist simultaneously in the same residence. sometimes the kitty jumps on his bed at midnight in order to cuddle. he would also name it something like "neko" or "el gato" or literally "the cat" because he is so unoriginal.

sae gives himself the whole patrick bateman monologue every morning when he does his skincare routine. he peels his face mask off in slow motion too. when you pointed out the similarities, he got mildly upset because he does not like being compared to anyone.

sae secretly hates the fact that rin is taller than him. he thinks about it a lot when he sees the family photos. sometimes wishes he grew just a little more during puberty. that way he would be taller than 180 cm.

sae cannot sing for the life of him. but if you are sick or having nightmares, he will hum you the lullaby his mother used to sing for him. gets shy when you compliment his voice, but his emotions do not manifest physically on his facial features. sometimes when he thinks you're finally asleep in his lap, he will brush your hair back and kiss your forehead.

sae sometimes feels a stirring in his chest whenever he spots a child in the park or an old couple on the benches near the boardwalk. he left for spain at a young age, so he inevitably gets the feeling that his childhood was stolen from him. if he ever matured to the point where he could see beyond his own ambitions, he would want to start a family.

sae loves it when he comes home from practice and sees you dancing around in the kitchen. he will watch silently as you prance around with a spatula and belt out the lyrics. sometimes he just wants to capture the moment and tuck it into his breast pocket and treasure it forever.

sae feels touched when you actually listen to what he says. because he is a man of few words, he usually has to be the one who listens, digests information, and offers sound advice. however, if you grant him the time of day to hear him out or gift him something that he once mentioned off-hand, he will feel strange tingles of the emotion he tries so desperately to deny.

sae is a skeptic. no scam, ploy, or false pretense will ever make it past him. he despises people-pleasers and does not understand why he has to conform to other people's standards. will not trust news outlets unless he personally was there as an eyewitness account or there is sufficient research backing up the claims.

sae is rather extreme when it comes to getting hurt. it is all or nothing with him. if he feels like you somehow penetrated through his walls and hurt him even in the slightest way, he will make the situation worse by hurting you back tenfold. usually he tries to justify pushing you away, and that just ends up driving him even further from you. tbh he really needs to work on his communication skills. rather than shutting down after an issue arises, he has to learn to put his own opinions aside and hear out the other party.

sae gets bored easily, but he is hesitant to try out new things in fear of not being immediately good at them. as the eldest child of his family and a hailed prodigy in his nation, there is the expectation that he must naturally excel at everything to set a good example. football is where he first found his talent and where he feels the most comfortable even if it isn't as inspiring and exciting as it once was. unfortunately, it leads to the onset of burnt-out-gifted-kid syndrome. that's also why he is seeking out a strong striker who can meet his demands and generate the impossible plays he is looking for. essentially sae needs someone to rekindle his original love for the sport.

sae gets defensive when he lets other people down, except this isn't immediately apparent. usually you would have to read between the lines with him. he bases his self-worth off both his own ambitions and the people close to him. if he disappoints someone important to him, he will be stuck in this sinkhole of internal turmoil. that's also why he lashes out at rin when rin reminds him of their shared dream he gave up on. he doesn't like his mistakes being pointed out, much less when his stoic image crumbles. he might also push you away and try to convince himself that you aren't worth that much to him in order to lessen his guilt.

sae needs someone highly intuitive and patient in his life. you need to be able to understand his emotions intrinsically because even he cannot grasp his own feelings. you also need to teach him how to connect himself with the outside world. because sae has primarily fended for himself ever since he was born, you have to convince him that it is okay to rely on others. his mentality is that if he reaches the top, no one will be able to touch him, much less hurt him. however, he sometimes fails to see how that simultaneously isolates himself from others.

sae is relatively straightforward when it comes to getting what he wants. if he somehow miraculously realizes and comes to terms with the fact that he loves you, he will confess it directly to your face. "date me or don't." it's not even a question. it's a factual statement.

sae is not as emotionally mature as the rest of the fandom makes him out to be. just because he does not show emotions in a traditional sense doesn't mean he necessarily has better control or understanding over them. for example, he gets jealous but would not know that the emotion he is feeling is actually called jealousy. rather than tease him about it, i think he would sincerely appreciate if you reassured him both verbally and physically through your actions. he is a man who relies on substance, so you need to prove that you'll be the one who stays with him through thick and thin.

sae oscillates between caring too little about others and caring too much. on one hand, he is more than willing to drop someone or something if his end goal has already been met. the ends always justify the means in his mind. however, he also feels doubt and uncertainty at times. like rin said, he hates losing. he objects to the blue lock program at first largely because he doesn't like the idea of a newcomer. he's already written off japan as a substandard country for football, so the idea of it being changed essentially challenges him directly. but again, this is a delicate line of balance. he is alright when it comes to being challenged mentally in football and seeking out a creative out-of-box solution. for instance, he is more than willing to accept rin's progress, shidou's unpredictability, and isagi's breakthrough talent. however, he is not okay with having his preconceptions destroyed as evidenced by his disillusionment in spain.

sae and ego would actually get along pretty well because they both have this one-track mind when it comes to football. players are reduced to numbers and metrics, and everything is evaluated as an advantage or disadvantage. ego is also ruthless when it comes to the elimination of the weak, and sae wouldn't disagree with that.

sae sometimes wakes up on the weekends and sees you in his bed, the sunlight raining down on your face. it is in this sort of domesticity that he wonders what life would be like if he wasn't a football prodigy. he craves normality not in the sense that he wants to be like everyone else but rather the idea that he needs to feel some sort of attachment or sense of belonging between you two. he could care less about the rest of the world but so long as you accept him, he would feel validated.

sae gives you free reign over his heart when he finally gives out and you're still there to pick him up. in his mind, he is worth nothing if he fails. if you're still there to reassure him and put him back together, he will first look at you like you're stupid for even wanting to stay with him. but once he realizes you stay only because you love him, you have his unconditional commitment. he would put a ring on your finger right then and there.

lmao that was long but that concludes my psychoanalysis on sae. hope that cures your insatiable need.

[nekrotiize]

I don’t have much of a horse in this race but I will say I will never understand the people who disparage “TME” and “TMA” as being “useless terminology” and “just reinventing the gender binary but for woke* trans people” when if you take 2 seconds to actually de-acronym those terms and look at what conversations they’re being used in, you’ll realize that’s just patently false.

“TransMisogyny Exempt” and “TransMisogyny Applicable” do not describe a new gender binary, and they are not nearly as invasive as some make it out to be. Personally, I find the fact that some keep hounding me about what’s in my pants to figure out whether or not my existence is acceptable to be far more invasive. What “TME” and “TMA” describe is literally just whether or not you are the primary target of Transmisogyny, a specific form of oppression that targets those who exist at the intersection of Transness and Womanhood. TME is a substantially broader category than some are pretending it to be. It covers anyone who isn’t Transfeminine - that’s it! Cis men are TME. Cis women are TME. Trans men + transmascs are TME. Quite a number of nonbinary people are TME. It tells people nothing other than the fact that you are not transfem. That’s it! That’s all it says. It’s a social category and that’s all. It’s primarily used in conversations about transmisogyny, too. You’re not expected to fuckin’ tattoo it on your forehead. Come on.

*There’s something fascinating to me about how “woke” will be used unironically negatively in these conversations at times, the same exact way conservatives use it. Especially considering it is not a negative term at its core, it was just a term used by Black Americans to describe a state of political awareness. I don’t think parodying conservatives is necessarily a bad thing, but the moment you start talking like one without a punchline in sight… Well, it really shoots the claim that you’re just trying to be more broadly accepting in the foot, does it not?

[lilyofporcelain]

DWC - 20 Nov - Day 4 - Surrender / Tranquil

“You simply hold it flat... and whichever direction the arrow points, is the direction of north. You need only consider a simple acronym for remembering the cardinal directions. Never. Eat. Soggy. Waffles.”

Afternoon sunlight stretched through the canopy of tall, looming deciduous gold, red, and orange trees above her. Around her, the scent of peacebloom, a soft field of white petals. Beneath her, a pool of dark hair like twilight in soft, light waves. In her left hand, a compass. She’d used it when she was down south, remembering what Andaeros had told her when she admitted she had no idea how to use one. And she remembered as she traversed clearings and rocky cliff sides that she still wasn’t wholly certain she knew how they worked.

Was there a compass for life? If so, then she certainly could have used it. Maybe she wouldn’t have taken so many awkward turns. Thinking about it like that, however, made her feel as if she was trying to escape responsibility. And to be fair… she wasn’t lost. Questioning herself without doubt, but not lost.

“I mean, is it because nobody has ever believed in you before. … Is it because you don't believe in yourself like we believe in you.”

Laeynna looked thoughtful as she turned Junarra’s words over in her head. The goblin had no way of knowing it at the time, but the words were more accurate and striking than Laeynna wanted them to be. It was one more thing for her to confront. One more thing for her to contemplate. Combining it with everything else she was trying to hold in her hands, it felt like it was the last thing she could endure before breaking. And she certainly… had broken. In one way or another, at least.

But Andaeros had weathered it. She wasn’t accustomed to that. Perhaps because she hadn’t allowed anyone to ever do so before. She kept replaying their conversation in her head.

“Let me help you, in some small way. If not for your sake, then for mine. To feel put to use.”

She’d always kept him at a distance. Proverbial arm lifted to keep a certain space between them. Some things she could handle. Sharing his bed, she realised, had been somewhat easier than the other things. Sharing her heart. Letting him into hers. Exposing herself. Revealing her secrets. Facing his judgement. Those had been so much more difficult. Many of those hurdles she had managed to clear with time, patience, and circumstance. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t supposed to be.

Laeynna had never wanted it to be.

Eyeing the compass she clutched in her hand, she gently shut it, deciding that it was likely not going to help direct her. Lowering her hand, she held his compass atop her heart and stared through the leafy branches above her thoughtfully. It wasn’t just her in a relationship. She couldn’t keep the same approach. It wasn’t fair or right to Andaeros. It wasn’t how she wanted it to be either. Once, he had reminded her that their relationship was based on mutuality. Mutual sentiments. Mutual needs. Where she had argued the concept of relying on him, he’d corrected her.

Would… it have been such a terrible thing to depend on him? To let him help her? Scraping her teeth along her bottom lip, the furrow in her brow was deep. It wasn’t just for her. It was for him, as well. If she wanted to be useful to him, then it made sense that he would feel the same way. If she forever made it seem as though she would face everything herself, then she would only succeed at building a wall between them.

“...I love you, Laeynna…”

Love. There was that, too. It still played repetitiously in her head. The first time he’d said it on a golden, sunny morning, it had nearly petrified her with fear. At least, a part of her. There was the part that had been extremely overcome with emotion, which was, in her opinion, not very like her at all. Days had made it a little easier for her to digest and to accept. Thinking it had been one thing. Saying it had been another entirely. Claiming the words. Committing to them. Letting herself accept them. Acknowledging that he was the one offering them to her.

Laeynna still had complications with it. The kinds that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her perception of self. He knew about some of it. How she viewed herself. And she had admitted to him relatively early on that she was always so much kinder to others than she was to herself. As to whether he knew how deep all of that went, however, she wasn’t certain. It was not a subject she really wanted to dive into, and convinced that he might eventually come to perceive her as an imposition, a burden, she’d struggled to say anything.

If she accepted his invitation, would it be too much? For him? For her? For them? Would she break everything? Was their love so fragile that she thought she could snap it so easily?

Shaking her head, Laeynna huffed out a breath. No. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Not when it took them as long as it did to get to where they were. For her, it wasn’t some trivial concept. Andaeros wasn’t… some passing fancy, and her feelings had never been trivial or meagre sorts when she actually started accepting she had them. If that was the course she had charted for herself, then it was the one she intended to travel. She would have to adjust how she thought about things. All things. Not just her deepened relationship with the disgraced spellbreaker, but also with herself.

Something had to give.

With a soft little sigh, Laeynna lifted the compass again, standard make. Durable. Steel alloy. Glass. As she carefully opened it, she flattened her palm, watching the arrow in red remain in the very same spot that it had been the last time she opened it. No. Maybe she still didn’t know how they worked, after all.

“...So,” she said aloud, mostly to herself, though in part to the compass in her hands. “Mister Ross’ compass, how do I tell him that I accept?”

— @daily-writing-challenge — Mentions: @andaerosdawnflare

[layover-linux-official]

Write One to Throw Away?

If you're in the software industry for long enough, you'll hear this advice eventually. There's an infamous Catch-22 to writing code:

You don't deeply understand the problem (or its solution space) until you've written a solution.

The first solution you write will have none of that hindsight to help you.

So it naturally shakes out that you have to write it at least one time before you can write it well, unless you're stricken with exceptional luck. And the minimum number of attempts you will need is two: one to throw away, and a second attempt to keep.

It's just math. It's just logic. Write one to throw away. It's got the world's easiest proof. You'd have to be some kind of idiot to argue with it!

Okay, hear me out...

As you work on bigger and older projects, you will continuously be confronted with a real-world reality: that requirements are an input that never stops changing. You can make the right tool for the job today, but the job will change tomorrow. Is your pride and joy still the right tool?

If you're like most developers, your first stage of grief will be denial. Surely, if we just anticipate all the futures that could possibly happen, we can write code that's ready to be extended in any possible direction later! We're basically wizards, after all - this feels like it should work.

So you try it. You briefly feel safe in the corrosive sandstorm of time. Your code feels future proof, right up until the future arrives with a demand you didn't anticipate, which is actually so much harder to write thanks to your premature abstractions. Welcome to the anger stage. The YAGNI acronym (you ain't gonna need it) finally registers in your brain for what it is - a bitter pill, hard-won but true.

But we're wizards! We bargain with our interpreters and parsers and borrow checkers. Surely we can make our software immortal with the right burnt offerings. We can use TDD! Oops, now our tests are their own giant maintenance burden locking us into inflexible implementation decisions. Static analysis and refactoring tooling! Huh, well that made life support easier, but couldn't fix fundamental problems of approach, architecture and design (many of which only came into existence when the requirements changed).

As the sun rises and sets on entire ISAs, the cold gloom eventually sets in. There is no such thing as immortal software. Even the software that appears immortal is usually a vortex of continuous human labor and editing. The Linux kernel is constantly dying by pieces and being reborn in equal or greater measure - it feels great to get a patch merged, but your name might not be in the git blame at all in 2 years time.

I want to talk about what happens when your head suddenly jumps up in astonished clarity and you finally accept and embrace that fact: holy shit, there is no immortal software!

Silicon is sand

... and we're in the mandala business, baby.

I advocate that you write every copy to be thrown away. Every single one. I'm not kidding.

Maybe it'll be good enough (read adequacy, not perfection) that you never end up needing to replace your code in practice. Maybe you'll replace it every couple years as your traffic scales. But the only sure thing in life is that your code will have an expiration date, and every choice you make in acknowledgement of that mortality will make your life better.

People are often hesitant to throw out working code because it represents years of accumulated knowledge in real-world use. You'd have to be a fool to waste that knowledge, right? Okay. Do your comments actually instruct the reader about these lessons? Does secondary documentation explain why decisions were made, not just what those decisions were? Are you linking to an issue tracker (that's still accessible to your team)? If you're not answering yes to these type of questions, you have no knowledge in your code. It is a black hole that consumed and irreparably transformed knowledge for ten years. It is one of the worst liabilities you could possibly have. Don't be proud of that ship! You'll have nowhere to go when it sinks, and you'll go down with it.

When you write code with the future rewriter - not merely maintainer - in mind, you'll find it doesn't need to be replaced as often. That sounds ironic, and it is, but it's also true. Your code will be educational enough for onboarding new people (who would rewrite what they don't understand anyways). It will document its own assumptions (so you can tell when you need a full rewrite, or just something partial that feels more like a modification). It will provide a more useful guiding light for component size than any "do one thing well" handwave. And when the day finally comes, when a rewrite is truly necessary, you'll have all the knowledge you need to do it. In the meantime, you've given yourself permission to shit out something sloppy that might never need replacing, but will teach you a lot about the problem domain.

This is independent of things like test suite methodology, but it does provide a useful seive for thinking about which tests you do and don't want. The right tests will improve your mobility! The wrong tests will set your feet in cement. "Does this make a rewrite easier?" is a very good, very concrete heuristic for telling the two apart.

Sorry for long-posting, btw. I used this space to work through some hazy ideas and sharpen them for myself, particularly because I'm looking at getting into language design and implementation in the near future. Maybe at some future date, I'll rewrite it shorter and clearer.

TL,DR:

Every LOC you write will probably eventually be disposed or replaced. Optimize for that, and achieve Zen.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for scamming my ex out of an extremely valuable virtual pet?

🐓🥤to recognize. This might be a very long post with a lot of added context for a very niche hobby and a very small actual conflict.

I religiously play a virtual pet site called Chicken Smoothie. It's a pretty old site as far as virtual pet games go, starting back in 2008, so there is a pretty solid established site economy. Just for some context, Every pet on the site has a rarity, ranging from "OMG So Common" to "OMG So Rare", being the most common and most rare respectively. But there are rarities within those rarities, where some OMGSRs can be worth more than others based on species and demand. For example, an OMGSR dog from 2008 will be worth more than an OMGSR rat from 2008 despite being the same highest rarity and year, because people prefer the dogs over rats. These pets can get extremely valuable. You can't sell them for real money (according to site rules, but of course there's a black market), but the site has its own virtual currency you can buy (with real money) and trade for called Chicken Dollars, and you can also trade a valuable pet for other valuable pets. It gets very complicated, with the community coming up with its own set of value terms each pet can have. I'm not getting into specifics there, that's not important.

Every year, on December 18th, CS has gift boxes you can adopt from. These gift boxes can contain any rare pet from any previous year, including special "Unreleased pets" that you can only get from these Dec 18th boxes, with a very slim chance. These unreleased pets are some of the most valuable and rarest in the game.

Recently, I had seen my ex posting on the forums. I didn't know he had an account, he had made it within this year, long after I got the fuck away from him, and I only knew it was him because he uses the same username everywhere. This person had groomed me, physically abused me when we were together (we no longer live anywhere near each other, thankfully) and has always been emotionally manipulative. He does not know I play, and he wouldn't recognize my account as me. I took a note of his account and left it be for a while, until December 18th hit and I took a peek at what he had got. And what he got was one of the new Unreleased pets, which currently at the time of writing this only looks like a box of cereal. (Most pets on the site have growth stages.) And even better, all his groups were open for trade, so I took a chance and sent an extremely terrible trade. I told him that this pet would only be a recent rare, and I offered him a "Very Rare" rarity (but not very valuable) pet from 2018, telling him I was overpaying. (In the CS community, this is known as Ninjaing, and it's Not A Good Thing To Do). I didn't expect him to accept it, I at least thought he'd be smart enough to ask in the trade advice thread that is literally pinned on the home page for December 18th, but he didn't. He took my word for it and accepted the trade, and now I own an unreleased pet that will eventually end up as an OMGSR.

What I did was not a bannable offence. He will not get his unreleased pet back. The CS mods are laughable at worst, incompetent at best, and don't do anything to stop scamming. They have an "eh, sucks to be you, sorry, be smarter next time" mentality when people get scammed (Which is insane because there are literal single digit aged children allowed on this site!!!)

After taking a bit to think about it, I do feel a bit guilty because I really would not do this in any other circumstances. I hate scamming. I did what I did out of anger and contempt, and I do feel a bit guilty because in essence, I scammed a new player that didn't have much else and didn't know any better.

I'm still keeping that unreleased cereal box no matter what though

What are these acronyms?

[punkedsolar]

The two individuals shown are representative members of the EBMs, of which there are two major families: the Bipae-leporae and the Quadrupedia-leporae.

Etymology The terminology selected by Coastal Sphynx is an approximation of 'two legged rabbit' and 'four legged rabbit'. EBM stands for Evidence Based Memorandum, though most New Petrans say 'Ebem' instead of using EBM as an acronym. EBMs themselves always use the acronym.

Taxonomy There is no current taxonomy accepted by all New Petran individuals because the EBMs refuse to update the central archive and have given no explanations as to why. This has lead to robust arguments over their status (generally assumed morphic) and their biology (unknown). EBMs who present as male are called 'bucks' and EBMs who present as female are called 'does' with the term 'coney' for all others.

A group of EBMs is known as a colony or swarm.

Description

The EBM, is a fast-running terrestrial creature; it has a dome of glassy material set high its head, long ears and a flexible neck. Its teeth grow continuously, the first incisors being modified for gnawing while the second incisors are peg-like and non-functional. An EBM is capable of gnawing through metal over time.

The limb musculature of EBMS is adapted for high-speed endurance running in open country. While no internal dissections have been permitted, observation has shown a flexible spine and considerable limb rotation that may mean that even the four-leggers are capable of throwing or hurling objects.

The fur colour is smooth and single coloured, and adjusts to levels of solar radiation, ranging from black through smooth blues to white. High levels of radiation mean paler colours, low levels mean darker. An EBM in a cold environment in midwinter will be entirely black.

Bipedal EBMs wear clothing, and quadrupedal EBMs tend not to. There are numerous indeterminate forms of greater or lesser functionality with movement, weight carrying capacity, and agility. Bipeds usually weigh less and are smaller in body size than quadrupeds.

Behaviour and ecology

The EBM originates from New Petra, and travelling is rare, but does occassionally happen.

Detailed behaviour and ecology is ultimately unknown - putting in a repair request that is approved into the central archive will summon an EBM who will then attend to the area of concern. EBMs seem to attend to other issues that have not had alerts, but with less urgency. They are commonly seen during the day, and only rarely at night.

Reproduction, socialisation, and similar topics are unknown - EBMs generally retreat back to the central archive once their work is done, and do not appear to communicate with each other even when working together.

They are not considered anti-social, and rarely cause any issues for New Petran citizens. They do vote and engage in civic duties, as well as engage with commercial operations - thus they may purchase food, clothing and minor items using New Petran Scrip. Any negative interactions are in the form of large EBMs blocking traffic while engaged in repairs, and issues of that nature.

No juvenile EBMs have ever been recorded, but Coastal Sphynx note that rabbits as animals hide their young until they are fully able to defend themselves.

EBMs avoid fighting and conflict wherever possible. When injured, they retreat immediately. Their speed makes such encounters rare. An EBM will not even defend another EBM - they will leave.

Morphic ecology notes

The two main shapes of EBMs and their willingness to work together lead to an assumption that the species is morphic, but what triggers any change between types is unknown. There are a number of intermediate anthropomorphic shapes as well.

Social notes

One can certainly talk to EBMs, and they do respond in the common tongue, but their conversational abilities are more or less bland and limited. They generally do not express interest in much - but they do seem to like music. Outdoor events or clubs are known to attract them in small swarms, which can kill the vibe for other, less strange New Petrans.

They do have names - the two above are called D-Comp and D-Res.