#ways that won't make sense to a lot of people. But it makes sense to me and thats what matters. If someones a robot. If someones an

[badassthezubat]

Wanted to add on to above, especially for anyone that hasn't gotten to experience this yet as an adult: This doesn't stop in the workplace, but as an adult you have the power to not put up with it in a way you couldn't as a kid. These people exist in every field, in every job, and if you encounter them the thing you have to remember is that this is THEIR problem, not yours; you aren't imagining it, and you did nothing to cause it. Don't let them make you feel bad about yourself or shrink into yourself just because they're shitty.

Anyone that's moving into the adult world or in the deep end already, don't ever feel like you have to stay some place if there's a piranha in the fish tank. The absolute best thing about adulthood is that you can just fuck off and leave, and that you can seek out and FIND places that won't make you feel terrible. As a kid, you had no power and just had to ride out the misery- regardless of what anyone tells you, no one has that power over you now, and you do NOT have to tolerate that kind of behavior, regardless of who the person is. You may not be able to change the environment, but you CAN find a better one. Nothing about you justifies their behavior, and their lack of empathy is their own problem, not yours.

(More under the break, because the word vomit got out of hand)

In a workplace, the sweet, neurotypical anti-bullying woman will be just as well loved as she was as a teacher- she might be your manager, or your boss, or in HR, or just a well-liked colleague that's been there a while. They could also be a sweet old guy that genuinely gets to know you, or a manager that always beelines to talk about a movie he just watched or always gives a wink and a nudge to make you feel welcome. They're always quick to discuss the importance of mental health days and taking care of yourself, and they'll be in the same environment as a lot of genuine, kind people that want to help and create a good environment, and probably put a lot of work into MAKING the environment better for most of the office.

Bullying as an adult in the workplace can be just as overt or incredibly subtle as when you were a kid, and hard to pin down- it can be joking-not-joking comments about you in front of the group, or a weird sense that colleagues you've never spoken to before are suddenly not respecting you, or are talking down to you out of nowhere. It can be feeling like no amount of work is good enough, or like you're spending more time worrying about what you're doing wrong and getting pulled aside for minor mistakes than doing your actual job. The person may flip 180 outside of work and act very friendly, warm, and trustworthy, which will make you doubt yourself, or wonder if maybe you're overanalyzing- especially if you're not neurotypical. I have horrific ADHD, and for me I spent more time than I should have blaming myself for fucking up so often, especially when my manager was "just trying to help" and was always delivering the criticism in a kind tone. She would always say she was trying to toe the line between being supportive and professionally strict, and would joke about how she was pulling the "mom voice" out on me, which I would laugh and thank her for. She would sandwich criticism between stressing the importance of mental health and cute stories about her kids, and then I would start hearing other managers use the same words to describe me and my work (lazy, overthinking, not ready for my position, seeing my work as busy work, etc) even when I had been honest with those managers and working late, unreported hours just to keep up with the workload. I worked at that office for six months, and by the time she fired me I had lost 40 lbs, had dark bags under my eyes, and was consistently working from 7 to 9 or 10 nearly every day of the week. I was a shaking, anxiety ridden mess in ways I hadn't been SINCE K-12, and finally got fired at 2pm on a Wednesday- right after I met a deadline I'd stayed til 9 the day before to work on, as I was finally managing to eat my lunch. I got pulled into a conference room, let go, and wasn't allowed to collect my things before I left- in the time it took an Uber to arrive my email had been shut off, I'd been removed from the website, and other coworkers had already been told about it. The next day I woke up for the first time in months feeling genuinely good and relaxed, and when my belongings arrived via courier later that day (lmao) I was genuinely relieved that I never had to go back.

The people like above see themselves as good people, and for a lot of people that may genuinely be the case- but people can justify a weird amount of cruelty towards someone that's 'different' or 'weird', and they honestly genuinely believe that they're being kind, or that they're right to treat you poorly because you aren't succeeding or reacting well like everyone else. Their kindness to everyone else becomes a bias, because every person they've helped becomes evidence that if YOU'RE struggling, that's because YOU are a problem, because look at everyone else this didn't happen with. At the end of the day, you have to be kind to yourself, and believe yourself and what you experience even if no one else does.

One of the good things about getting older is that your sphere of people can constantly shift and widen as you go through life- and I can promise that there ARE genuinely good, kind people in the world. I left that job with four new friends that I still keep in touch with, and every comment above is evidence that for every shitty person you encounter, there ARE people who notice and are bothered by that person's behavior. They could become friends or remain strangers, and they may not be in an environment where they can help as much as they'd like, but I can promise that behavior like this is noticed and noted as a black mark against that person- not you. Don't let people kill your joys in life or make you hate yourself, and don't let those people become what you expect from every person you meet- they don't deserve that much power over your day-to-day.

Look out for people the people like this, and look out for anyone suffering because of these people. The shit from your childhood won't go away, but it also never has to happen again, and it can help you support other people now the way you wish you'd been supported then. (Or be incredibly vindicating to Not Put Up With It now, the way you couldn't when you were a kid- best fucking feeling.)

every piece of ""autistic representation"" in hollywood sucks not just because of the infantalization and inspiration porn but because movie executives always fail to realize the real universal autistic experience: spending your childhood slowly and unfalteringly realizing all of your friends not so secretly hated and/or merely tolerated you at best and you've missed every social signal about it ever

[syscest]

i think i might be plural, and i think it’s a good idea to get to know the others better, but right now, i’m sort of always in control, even if they’re fronting. i’m scared if i let them develop more and think of themselves as more independent, this won’t be the case, and i don’t want to lose my control or my continuity of memory, but i don’t want to self-sabotage the unit by intentionally starving parts of my brain, either. do i just have to take the risk?

I think "plurality is like when aliens take over your brain and you get to use it and your body less and less" is one of those deliberately flawed interpretations of systemhood cooked up by people intent to undermine plural voices via shock value.

When you accept your own plurality, the definition of "I" changes. I think a lot of people think that this is conditional, that this isn't always true: I think it's always true. Some, if not many properties you once associated with "I" shift over to "we". Even if your sense of self feels contiguous and undivided, and you keep your name and pronouns as a member of your own system - "I" has changed.

Yes, it is functional, useful, to speak of many pluralfolk as multiple people. But we do not exist at this extreme any more than we exist as singlets. Your headmates are always a little bit you, and you are always a little bit your headmates - and that's okay. You can still have your own experiences, have your own feelings, but there is a thread that connects you. As much as the symptoms of that very system to system, it's always there. That's why acceptance of systemhood is a leap of faith - you're releasing the death grip on what you (your system) is capable of experiencing, and being scared that thread isn't there, hoping it'll keep you grounded when you need it.

*ahem* anyway outside of philosophising, contiguous memory is a matter of system configuration, not of acceptance. Either you already have weird gaps in your memory wherein accepting and working with yourselves as a system can help make that experience more workable and comfortable, or you don't and (realistically) you won't - at least not in the way you're imagining.

[gingerswagfreckles]

And like obviously this doesn't mean that extreme wealth disparities aren't real and getting worse and that poverty doesn't contribute enormously to crime rates, including violent crime. But it's just like anything and any intellectual frame work of understanding the world- taken to extremes, it sheds the uncomfortable weight of nuance, becomes simpler, cleaner, and more digestible, and ceases to make any real sense.

It's how you get people unironically blaming the existance of sexism and racism on capitalism, and how you red pill an entire generation of progressive young people into advocating for lynch mobs as the only form of community policing. Because they will not engage with the reality they live in, which is much more complicated and much darker than what they've been taught to believe online. When you are willing to force reality to fit into a simple oppressor/oppressed narrative without any nuance, and when you're willing to insist that every and all problems in the entire world will be solved once everyone commits to your ideology. Well then situations that challenge that ideology become threatening, and you have a motivation to become hostile against people that acknowledge them.

There's a very obvious flaw in the idea that utopia will be achieved by defeating capitalism, and that flaw is that The Capitalists themselves disprove the theory that people won't act in their own self interest and hurt others when all their needs are met. Like that's kind of the whole "capitalism is the root of all evil's" thing. The idea that The Capitalists have everything they could possibly want or need in a million lifetimes, and still want more. And still cause harm.

Instead of grappling with the obvious fact that people can have all their needs met and still cause harm to others, though, a lot of "progressives" and "leftists" go into this bizarre reality denial where they now need to talk about Capitalists like they fundamentally aren't human, like there is some genetic difference between The Rich and The Working Class. Which is obviously crazy, but this is what happens when people treat academic theories as religious doctrine, and cease to engage with reality, in favor of committing to The Cause. No, it doesn't make sense, and yes, all of human history stands as a testament to the fact that capitalism is in no way the only evil that's ever caused mass human misery. And yet instead of acknowledging this complexity and the fact that utopia is not, in fact, just around the corner if we just kill the right people.... People instead dive head first into conspiracy theories about Jews and historical revisionism that puts flat earthers to shame.

[ineedtogetintotomspants]

Class Bus Trip (part 2)

Summary: after you helped tom get off on the bus, during a class trip. You somehow meet him again and things don't end up as planned

Warnings: a lot of smut, bit of degrading, tom kinda forces himself on u, a lot of titty sucking :3

Authors note: if u haven't read part one first this won't make a lot of sense! So go read it first

SMUT BELOW!

Georg's attention drifts away from you and Tom as he instinctively checks his phone, hoping for a message from his girlfriend. Tom takes advantage of Georg's distraction to whisper sneakily in your ear. "That was crazy, wasn't it?" A shiver runs down your spine as he gives you that slutty little smirk. "Yeah... But don't tell anyone... Please." You beg, knowing that he'd probably go around bragging about using your ass to get off at the back of the bus. You'd rather die than have the reputation of some kind of slut. 

"Nah, I won't tell anyone. I'm respectful!" Tom assures you, but there's a hint of sarcasm in his tone that makes it hard to fully trust him.

"Tom have you seen my phone charger?" Georg suddenly interrupts, while fidgeting with his phone.

Time Skip: After getting off the bus, the teacher split the class into groups of three or four. You stuck with your girlfriends, and had a pretty fun day with them at the amusement park. All you could do was try everything in your power to distract yourself from what happened with Tom. You avoided him the entire day—and luckily, you never ran into him. You’re not really sure why you didn’t want to see his face. Maybe he made you feel guilty? Or maybe it was the fact that you’ve never had your first time, and sharing such an intimate moment with someone as unserious as Tom made you feel like he took something precious from you. He’s the kind of guy who sleeps around with countless girls, sometimes without even knowing their names, and then walks away like it meant nothing. 

At the end of the day, everyone headed to the hotel. Since the trip lasts four days, the plan for the next few days includes visiting monuments, museums, and historical landmarks with your class and teachers. You're in a single room with your three girlfriends, chatting and getting ready for bed and they're still clueless about what happened between you and Tom. You're definitely not planning on telling anyone.

It's 2am, everyone's asleep, except you, still tossing and turning in bed, can't get that fuckass dreadlocks boy out of your little head.

"Fuck, why do i have to get attached to people so fast? I'm so stupid. I'm making such a big deal out of what happened on the bus, when Tom probably already forgot about it.." 

Slowly, without making too much noise, you get out of bed to go to the bathroom. There's a women's communal bathroom located right at the end of the long hallway, the male one right next to it. You sleepily waddle yourself inside and close the door, briefly checking yourself out in the mirror, looking a little tired, residue of smudged mascara under your eyes, messy unbrushed hair. "Ugh, whatever."

Once you've finished using the toilet, you turn to wash your hands at the sink, but all of the sudden you find yourself face to face with Tom.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" you flinch in disbelief.

Tom chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender, clearly showing he means no harm. He turns on the sink and starts washing his hands, completely unbothered.

"What the fuck are you doing in the women's bathroom, you weirdo?"

His gaze locks with yours, his brown eyes scanning your face as if you're the dumbest person alive. "You're in the men's bathroom."

"Don't fuck with me!"

"Hehe... Don't you see the urinals?" He points at them with his hand. You didn't even notice them when you first came in.

"Fuck. I'm so stupid." You sigh in disbelief.

He playfully raises his eyebrows at you, kinda in a flirty way. He's such a manwhore, you fucking hate him.

"Is this a coincidence or did you purposely try to find me to continue what we started on the bus?"

Your eyes widen at his boldness, but at the same time, you feel a slight tingle down there.

"Honestly, that was the hottest thing I've ever experienced in my life." You admit, without any filters.

"Ja?" He smirks proudly, although his confidence can't seem to mask the sudden nervousness creeping up on him.

"Yeah." You nod.

"You will let me continue what we started. Won't you, baby?"

He looks at you shyly from the corner of his eye, gauging your reaction. His heart races as he waits to see if he's overstepped or if this attempt might actually work. You swallow hard and clear your throat, trying to come up with an answer, but you feel conflicted. The sight of him leaning against the wall, impatient, in his baggy sweatpants and hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his veiny, crossed forearms, and his dreads tied up, is incredibly tempting. Tom abruptly snaps, his patience completely worn out as he grabs you by the waist and spins you around, his hands on the edge of the sink, trapping you against the sink, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip bones. "Fuck" he breathes out roughly, one hand sliding up to grip your waist while the other moves to support himself against the sink.

"I was actually jerking off... thinking about you... Then i came here to wash my hands... Couldn't fall asleep..." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah... Really. Just let me fuck you already." He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers softly. His hand continues its trail, slowly moving upward until it reaches right beneath your breast. He grips your hip with his other hand more firmly, pressing harder against you. "Are you still gonna play innocent or..." He moves his hand higher, deliberately brushing against the side of your breast. "Let me..." Without even asking for permission, he grabs your tits, squeezing them gently through the thin fabric of your shirt. 

"These are so perfect. Not even wearing a bra hmm?"

"No, I don't wear a bra when I go to bed." 

He lifts the hem of your shirt all the way up to just below your neck, exposing your bare tits, and you gasp as you catch a brief glimpse of the slutty reflection in the mirror, he peaks right at you from behind. 

"Look at yourself, whore."

Without hesitation, he begins to fondle both of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh like dough, he buries his face between the curves of your neck, inhaling deeply, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses.

"Mmmh Tom..." you mumble his name desperately 

"Yes, baby?"

"Tom..." You whisper his name once again, unsure of what to say. You want to tell him a lot of things and ask him to do all kinds of filthy things to you, but you're so overwhelmed that you're unable to form a proper sentence.

"You want Tom to suck on these perfect tits?" With both hands, he squeezes your tits together, while looking in the mirror, licking his lips hungrily. "They're so big."

He spins you around again, he quickly lowers himself to be at eye level with your chest. He parts his lips, sucking one of your hard nipples into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing out, making wet, pornographic sounds, suckling like he's starved, looking up at you with desperate puppy eyes. You can't help but squeeze your thighs together and moan from the heavenly sensation. 

"Your mouth feels so good. So good." 

He can feel you trembling above him, your moans encouraging him to suck harder. 

His reddish lips wrap around your nipple, his metal piercing scraping gently against your sensitive skin each time he sucks. He leans back and purposely spits directly onto the same spot he was sucking, admiring how his saliva slides down. It's so lewd, makes him harder than a rock.

"That's so hot..."

[stellargh0ul]

Can I get uuuuuuuuuh non-gender-conforming reader worried that Perp won't want her cause she's not feminine enough. With a side of Perp being absolutely obliterated with how much he loves/wants her? Thanks🙏 lots o' love.

Right back atcha!

-

staring into the mirror, you run your fingers along the bottom edge of your short-cropped hair, right where the strands end. you fight the urge to sigh—you’ve never had a problem with your haircut before, always liked the way that short hair looked on you and how it made you feel, but in the face of the people around you, it’s starting to feel more like a badge of shame than a cool haircut.

it’s hard, when you’re looking at all the beautiful sisters of sin who surrounded you, not get at least a little self-conscious. you’d never been one for makeup or high heels or swaying skirts that twitched when you moved, and that had never bothered you before you arrived at the Ministry.

before you starting dating Perpetua, that is. because now you’re forced to see the beauty he’s surrounded by every day and measure yourself lacking in comparison.

you’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, staring into the mirror, that you barely even notice as he comes up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. Perpetua rests his head on your shoulder as you stare into the mirror, looking at you in the reflection.

somehow he seems to pick up on your negative mood—he’s always got a sixth sense for that kind of thing, you’re realizing, some sort of special ability to sense when something’s bothering you.

“tell me why you’re frowning, little lamb. I don’t know how it’s possible to frown when one looks as ravishing as you do in this moment.”

“…I was just thinking,” you say, because you know he won’t accept it if you tell him nothing’s wrong. “about how I look. would you… prefer it if I was a little more feminine? with long hair, or maybe, like, makeup?”

he’s frowning even before you’ve finished speaking, pulling back from you a little bit so that he can turn you to face him. you go reluctantly, sure that you know what he’s going to say, and he does indeed purse his lips as he looks you over.

“I love you as you are,” Perpetua says, his voice firm, with no room for argument. you open your mouth to try anyway and he leans in to kiss you, stealing the words from your mouth with his lips.

by the time he relents, you’re almost dizzy.

“there’s nothing you can do to change my mind on that, no argument you can make or case to plead. I want you as you are, as you feel confident to be. you do not need to try and impress me with anything that isn’t your true self.”

you look away from him but he reaches out to grab your chin, forcing you to look into his mismatched eyes. squirming on the inside, you can only swallow hard and give a silent nod, fighting the tears that threaten to pour out of you.

his arms are warm, firm.

“you are perfect just as you are. you do not need to change a thing.”

[oxxytocinoverdose]

That was so good😶‍🌫️ and don’t worry, your style is so good I’m sure the majority are into it😋 plus I think most readers would focus on Morro, like I do.

I was wondering if you could write more from his pov? the way you portray him JUST makes sense. Resurrected Morro is definitely gonna be exactly how you write him. How about a oneshot where Morro comes back after a mission injured, and reader spoils him and takes care of him? Kinda a mix of fluff and suggestive??

Also do you prefer for the requests to be specific or no?

I’m so happy you find my portrayal of Morro to be accurate to canon!! I think he'd still be a little bitch. Just matured. By his pov I’m going to assume you mean first person perspective writing. So sorry if that’s not accurate to what you wanted! Feel free to request again if you meant it another way. Because it's from his pov and there are a lot of things my version of Morro would not openly admit, he will be a bit of an unreliable narrator. You will have to assume a lot of what he says he feels and does is an exaggeration/ is too toned down. To answer your second question: I like specific requests because I overthink about what people actually want. If a request isn’t specific, I like being reassured that they just want me to do whatever with the small details. With that being said, hope you enjoy :)

Losses, back to back

Resurrected !Morro AU, Morro x reader, reader can be of any gender, fic takes place after the events of day of the departed, Morro!POV

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───

They let me in without even asking who it is. I suppose I sort of trained them to recognize frantic banging on their door as me, but still, it's dangerous, isn't it? They've got no sense of self preservation. I don't know how they survive without me.

'Took you long enough." I mutter, scrunching up the cloth from my gi into my cut.

"Sorry you had to wait five seconds. What the hell happened to you?"

I shut the door behind me. They're already pulling me by my arm toward that conveniently placed couch. I come here so often, I practically live here. So I'm guessing they didn't want me to walk even four feet into their place without somewhere to lay down. What bullshit. I don't get hurt that often.

"It's nonsense. I had this guy cornered, but because my luck is just so shit, there happened to be this blade that fell from the fuckin- heavens or something like that, and it almost took my head clean off— I won't lie, but I moved in time, sorta, and it only gave me this nasty cut instead..."

They look mortified. They look funny, so I have to laugh a bit before I ask them what that face is for.

"You almost died, Morro. That's not funny. Why do you have to be so reckless all the time? I don't wanna wait for you at home just for you to never show up. And then find out on my own something happened to you."

Well that's just unfair. They sound like a kicked puppy. They look like a kicked puppy. And the hypothetical situation they just described sounds horrifying.

"...Geez, relax, relax. Don't start crying on me. I'm alive, aren't I?"

"But one day you could not be."

"That's just part of my job! I'm a ninja!"

"But you sound like you don't take your own life seriously."

The cut stings, and I make that pretty obvious with the wince that leaves my mouth. I swear, they think I'm trying to distract them from what we were just talking about-- I'm not! It just hurts like a bitch.

They get back from washing their hands. I'm apologizing for bleeding onto their couch, floor, carpet— and they keep saying it's all good, calling me baby; I really don't deserve this.

"You wash your gi often?"

"Yeah... what do you take me for...?"

"You were just holding it against your wound for so long... if it were dirty, it'd get infected."

"I sweat a lot in it. Fell into a lot of dirt. I doubt it's clean. Even if I washed it."

"I'm gonna disinfect it, alright? Here, bite down on this."

She hands me a towel. I shake my head.

"Nah, don't need..."

"Morro. You serious. Your ego just has to come before everything? I don't want you to chip a tooth, I'm telling you, it'll hurt."

"I'm telling you I don't need to bite down on something like I'm bitchmade-"

"You're going to chip your fucking teeth if you don't cooperate. Stop arguing with me when you know I'm right. This isn't to embarrass you, or shut you up when you make too much noise, it's what's best for you. You're going to listen to me and stop rejecting help all the time, as if you always know what's best for you, because you don't. That's why you got hurt in the first place. So take it."

It’s quiet for a few seconds.

“….mm..." That hurt a bit. To be honest, I caved. I was in the right, obviously, but.. no need to win every argument, you know? Especially not the they're so demanding like that. It's really hard to not.. obey, I guess.

I hate that I can feel their eyes on me while I sound like a literal dog. Whining into their stupid little towel. They're so focused on making it better, meanwhile Im being... perverted, to say the least. I kinda wish I was making noises like that for a different reason entirely. What they put on after disinfecting it feels nice. It's cold.

"I'm gonna bandage it now, alright?"

I have to help a bit with that part. Getting it around my waist tightly and all. The gauze keeps it together. And now I can finally breathe. I see their hand coming up to my face, and I look up. They wipe the side of my eye, noticing a little tear there before I did.

"I'm sorry. For raising my voice at you."

"It's alright... I- I mean, I'm sorry... for, I dunno, being childish. The towel helped."

"That's good to hear..." Their hands are on my shoulders. They lay their head on my chest, which is so humiliating, because they can hear my heart racing like it's about to beat out of my chest. I kiss the top of their head, which makes them nuzzle deeper.

"Stop... fucking around with your life. Please."

"I was exaggerating the story, alright? You don't have to worry.. the blade was never gonna kill me...'

"You just... get so focused on a goal... you don't pay attention to anything else. Don't let that happen to you while you fight."

"I won't. You don't have to baby me so much."

"You're surrounded by other ninja every day. People who are much better at treating wounds than I am. You came to me anyway. You wanted to get babied."

I don't respond. I'm just gonna pretend I didn't hear that.

"I'm sorry for makin' you put up with me."

"Don't talk like that about yourself. You know I'm going to argue with you and win, every time."

I'm about to reply whey press their lips into mine, hand under my jaw, the other on my sternum. I kiss back, my arms too tired to properly hold them. But God, am I grateful.

I lost two fights that day.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　

[aeolianblues]

Hm. Optimising code is one thing but I feel it's a whole separate topic of discussion from choice of languages. Sure, at the end of the day, nothing is going to beat the speed of lightweight languages that are one layer above assembly. The fastest solution to everything is 'code it in C'. But the more you work collaboratively in larger groups, the more you have to reach a fine balance between efficiency, usability and readabillity/maintainability.

I work with data scientists and with engineers who use our code. Sometimes you will sacrifice the quickest and most efficient code for readability. Apart from just good commenting and documentation, I've also stopped used lambda functions because it makes life easier for the data scientists to read (some of them use lambda functions exclusively. Some of them are also big stackoverflow googlers, that's all I'm saying).

I was working on some Keras code for image recognition within an engineering team. The engineers work close to the hardware, and work in Linux environments to control their motors, so there was a lot of C++ and ROS code in our database (Robot-OS). Could've trained CNNs in C, but I would've started killing people if I had write Tensorflow and Keras functions in C++ or Java— think I read somewhere that they're deprecating Tensorflow for Java but don't quote me on that...

When the complexity of a task goes up, it does make sense use the right tools for the job. I agree that, e.g. not every game needs to be rendering ultra-high resolution polygons or whatever (I am not a game dev, clearly) and software that once was written in a few 100 megabytes really shouldn't take up 50 GB today, but you should still be making sure you're using the right tools for the task, and sometimes part of the 'task' just is that your code should be easily accessible and not mystical four years later. Still falls under the principle of 'don't be an asshole'.

Anyway, the intention of this post was 'stop bullying Python coders, they know what they're doing. Worry about the new legion of 'coders' that ask ChatGPT to write all their code for them and may not even know what half their code does. That's one hell of a way to get inefficient, Frankenstein code and also clueless devs who won't be able to fix their own shit. They've given it a name to try and make it seem legitimate, I think we should bully them instead before this becomes a widespread problem/'

I don't like that the dev community picks on people who are most fluent in Python, when the ChatGPT-using "vibe coders" are right there. At least Python babies are coding. Bully the non-coders instead.

[mr-weirdo-mcgee]

So like why are people complaining about the "bad parts of a fandom" being...rule 34? And that's like it? They don't even say it's the gross incest or minors nope just....rule 34? Like...how do you join a fandom then be like "omg f-freaky art!" Like no shit?? They got to be like really young or something right? (Gonna be honest...it was on YouTube shorts...so ...yeah I feel like that could be why) And one person complained about rule 34....on Twitter??? Twitter.com?? That one?? You didn't expect it THERE!?

[doodlejoltik]

my favourite writing device is having an un-Rei-liable narrator

[atsukunaritai]

ワンルームエンジェル　第１・２話　　　　　 　　　one room angel - ep. 1&2

[anarchonist]

That post about guilt and shame only being effective as deterrents but not in inspiring anyone to change their behavior in any meaningful way got me thinking about those other posts about progressive circles consisting way too much of people not with a desire to do something right but instead with a fear of doing something wrong, and...

Yeah. Those two are related. Guilt and shame are the weapons of the status quo, designed to instill in everyone with a conscience a fear of failure, of hurting others, of being a bad person. And it's pretty fucked up when people are being shamed for that, since, well, shame doesn't inspire any meaningful change. So the problem persists, deepens, even. Since by shaming someone for not getting over that shame, you've now discouraged them from thinking about that instilled shame and maybe finding a solution.

It's shame and guilt all the way down. Perhaps shame and guilt could be used against people who tend to shame and guilt others in order to shame and guilt them out of shaming and guilting others? I don't know. And that's a true shame.

[vicedmuses]

as they gave into their primal instincts and started to feed, james made sure that he got a little bit more comfortable. the prey was caught. he no longer had to work for his meal or show off for someone else. so, in order for the man to stop moving so much, he moved his right up up from his neck and his fingers were placed right on the upper portion of his back jaw, underneath his ears. he applied pressure there and soon enough, it was almost as if the man froze in place. there was a lot of writhing around though, pain settling in through the pressure point. even that part was fun to feel. 

as both of the human's scents filled the air, something within james seemed to twist. especially when he saw ellie feeding from the tap for the first time. there was a sense of hedonistic pleasure that engulfed him that was hard to explain. barely any coherent thought formed as he sunk his fangs deeper into the man's throat and continued to drain him of all of his blood. he didn't waste a single drop. he was sure to position him in a way that even if he did move, which the hand on the pressure points ensured that he didn't, he would just be able to lick it up and continue forward. his newborn was also a fast learner. this was the first time that she had drank from a human, to his knowledge, and she was doing it amazingly. the difference between animals and humans, in his point of view, was that you could be more savage with the beasts. they normally carried more blood, so it didn't matter if some of it was spilled. humans were fragile and smaller. they were also more reactive, fighting until they no longer could. so he was happy that ellie seemed to take to it and flew with it. 

finally, when he was done, he let the body drop down to the ground. "to answer your question." he crouched down next to the man, but his eyes were glued onto the other vampire. “i'm two hundred and forty-five years old. i was turned when i was twenty-five.” he would let her do the math. he didn't even know if that was what she was going to ask in the first place, but that was always the question when someone saw him hunt. “i've been tracking prey since long before that though. when i was a little kid. it was the only thing my father ever taught me to do.” which coincidentally where he had gotten his child of the moon gene from. “final thing when feeding from humans, you have to make it look messy when you're done. like an animal was the one that had their way with them. cover up your tracks.” he used his sharp nails to claw at the man's chest, roughing his body up a bit. the cuts ranged from his torso to his face, leaving his legs pretty much in tact. “then people won't question who did it, more so what did it.”

Ellie was in love. Her gaze didn’t waver from Cecil; she drank in her dark, frightened eyes, softened by time She reached up and brushed her thumb across the curve of her cheek, where the skin had grown calloused with age but still held a quiet firmness, still full and warm. Even with the lines that gathered near her eyes, she was beautiful. Bountiful. Just like James, she didn’t want to share this harvest with anyone else. The wind picked up softly and with it carried the flush scent of their prey. It was strong, suffocating in its sweetness.. it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the coven got a whiff.

Their lovely night, ruined.

Ellie watched James move with big, curious eyes tracking his every step. There was something soothing in the way he carried himself, each step taken with calmness and deliverance. She loved that about him. There was so much to learn. So much to understand. “I see,” she said, her voice light and giddy, like their conversation was something innocent like which wine they’d bring to the dinner party. “Make sure they don't wriggle around so they don't lose too much blood. Got it," Ellie felt she loved James too, in this moment, listening with reverence. Cecil resisted, at first. Even though Ellie was stronger, it had taken her a second to grip her nape so tight that she stopped movin' around like a bug. But it didn’t take long for her to realize it wouldn’t matter. Still, it had her thinkin'. She wondered, jus how long James had been doing this to know exactly what to do? How long had he been transformed? "James," she asked languidly, carrying out the syllables in his name. "How long have you?..." But she didn't say it, feeling oddly shit about it. Did vampires like to talk about that sort of stuff?

Ellie watched the flicker of hope fade from Cecil's face, and smiled eerily tenderly, “It won’t hurt,” she assured, as raking her fingers through now matted, damp hair. As the newborn listened to James drink, her own appetite grew. "I'll be gentle." Ellie watched as beads of sweat trickled down her pale neck, the smell so tantalizing, and unable to help herself she traced the path down her skin with her tongue. She kissed her neck, then her chin, and lastly her lips; it was almost romantic. Cecil whimpered as two sharp fangs dipped themselves into her skin. Puncturing skin was easier than she'd thought it'd be, and in that moment Ellie dissolved. So good. . . it was dulcet, like a tart peach. At least, what she remembered a peach to taste like. Maybe ambrosial.. far too complex to place, but decadent, and the young vampire got ahead of herself, drinking far too much, far too quickly. Ellie lapped greedily, her hands having to hold the body she sucked from upright due to all the blood loss as some ran down her face.

[narcopathyfiles]

really hot take that i sincerely really hope i can properly get across because i find it very important. but. i think that people should not be obsessing over politics and how fucked the world is rn and Please stick around just a little longer so i can explain it i'm not saying it should be ignored. i'm not even in a place where i get to ignore it. i'm a working class woman of color in a country that is just a little bit less fucked than the usa right now. we had a fascist government that lasted from the 60s to almost the 90s .people were getting jailed and literally tortured when my parents were kids. i'm not trying to talk down to anyone who feels helpless and scared because i find it really reasonable.

but the human brain can only handle so much misery before it shuts down, consuming a constant stream of horrible news can and will burn you out. a lot of people are already burning out!! you might not notice it happen to you because it feels like it makes sense and the world is just going up in flames and there's nothing to be done. but the thing is that whenever rights are taken away people need to fight to get them back and if you're stuck with feeling so hopeless you can't even think of what to do to help yourself and others then you won't do it.

you can't be aware of every horrible thing all the time and you should not be. seriously please have Some form of escapist hobby or something to keep yourself sane and remind yourself that life is worth living because that's what will give you strength when you actually have to do something to try to change your situation. no one is able to help everybody and that doesn't make you evil it just makes you human. do not get stuck on the guilt and fear because it will paralyze you and then you won't be able to help anyone at all.

[emeraldxphoenix]

@cffidelityy continued from here

Loki has always tended towards jealousy. Whether by nature or by virtue of being the younger, less-favoured, son is unclear, but what is clear is that being married has somehow only made his possessiveness worse. Not that he ever believes Sigyn would be unfaithful – he knows the thought would never so much as cross his wife’s mind – but the god has been falling in love with her since the night of their wedding ( – slowly at first, now it’s like a damn avalanche – ) and is increasingly determined to hoard her affections and attentions for the rest of their lives.

Weight shifts from one foot to the other, torso still pressed against hers within the alcove the trickster had tugged them into before speaking. “Mine,” he agrees with another growl, head dipping to press his mouth to hers in a demanding kiss, uncaring about the blood from his split lip painting her lips too. Sigyn knows she is his, just as Loki is hers, but from the way Fandral had been staring at her all evening, it seems he had needed reminding. A split lip is a worthwhile price to pay for the sight of a bloodied nose and black eye on the swordsman’s face.

[zeroducks-2]

I know it doesn't matter and doesn't mean anything but I'm curious if you'd be willing to share how many ppl follow you here

Eh, I'm sorry but no. I'm not sure what would be considered a big following here on tumblr and surely I don't feel like I have one, luckily enough because I prefer the "few but good" side of things. Still, of the people who follow me I suspect that many did because they saw an art they liked or read a meta they enjoyed, but didn't really stop to check who they were following and would strongly dislike my stance on many things (like being vehemently anti-censorship or liking some hardcore kinks, and being generally kind of a hissy bitch). I've had people following for a while, then noticing some of the aforementioned, therefore they sent anon hate and blocked me (sometimes I see it happening in real time and it's especially funny).

But, anyway. I might be willing to tell a mutual in private how many blogs exactly follow me and I myself follow if they asked, but I won't put it out there for everyone to know. Since I can avoid it, I don't want anyone comparing themselves to meaningless numbers either in a positive or negative way, I hope you understand.

[cloud-somersault]

every time i hear someone sayin' they only read completed fics but also complain because there's not enough 100k slowburns, i get so irrationally mad.

how do you think fics get completed? do you think the author sits on that 100K slowburn for months and posts it all at once? maybe interact and give some engagement