#plain & simple

[notruevampire]

[valdotpng]

happy birthday bubbo!!!!!!!!! i still love u to death!!!!!!!!

[1989deluxealbum]

The Tortured Poets Department is a great reminder that women don't owe the world pretty. Taylor Swift doesn't owe anyone an easily digestible pretty pop album wrapped in a bow with short songs you can make TikToks to. She's allowed to present something raw, uncomfortable, and vulnerable to the world.

[shadowinthefire]

[inkskinned]

hey btw if you're in the USA at  2:20 p.m. ET on Wednesday, Oct. 4, they're testing the emergency broadcast system. your phone is probably going to make a really loud noise, even if it's on silent. there's a backup date on the 11th if they need to postpone it.

if you're not in a safe situation and have an extra phone, you should turn that phone completely off beforehand.

additionally, if you're like me, and are easily startled; i recommend treating it like a party. have a countdown or something. be surrounded by your loved ones. take the actions you personally need to take to make yourself safe.

i have already seen mockery towards any person who feels nervous about this. for the record, it completely, completely valid to have "emergency broadcast sounds" be an anxiety trigger. do not let other people make fun of you for that. emergency sounds are legitimately engineered to make us take action; those of us with high levels of anxiety and/or neurodivergence are already pre-disposed to have a Bad Time. sometimes it is best to acknowledge that the situation will be triggering for some, and to prepare for that; rather than just saying "well that's stupid, it's just a test."

"loud scary sound time" isn't like, my favorite thing, but we can at least try to prevent some additional anxiety by preparing for it. maybe get yourself a cake? noise cancelling headphones? the new hozier album? whatever helps. love u, hope you're okay. we are gonna ride it out together.

[antagonistic-sunsetgirl]

Cardassians are a very protective people

My favourite idea is that Garak is so scared of bringing Julian to Cardassia. Terrified. Surely she will eat him alive. The sun will fry his doctor and are ration bars even designed with humans in mind?? And oh, his people! Julian's part of one of the most dominant species in the Federation. He's probably never experienced Xenophobia in his life. If Cardassia hates him, how can Garak expect him to love it enough to stay, stay with him enough to start a life, a family-?

And then. I haven't decided how yet. Maybe someone at the hospital realizes Julian takes patient-doctor confidentiality UBER seriously. Cardassian doctors won't gossip about their patients, certainly not, but if someone with enough authority asks? Of course they'll share information. It's the state. Not Julian. He will go to war over your privacy. Some political adversery of Garak's is emergency-treated for PTSD by Julian and goes into the next debate fully expecting Garak to know every detail of that weakness, to exploit it. And he just. Had no idea. This man, a heavily rumoured, ah, intelligence expert, lives with this doctor. And he obviously has no clue about this thing.

News spreads. Julian starts getting the hardest-hit cases, the most vulnerable people. Cardassians that would never have sought treatment because they feel exposed, and an exposed Cardassian backs up into a corner and bites your fingers off. No matter what internal injuries are festering at their minds. But Julian has experience with luring Garak out of corners.

Gently, reliably, this man coaxes and heals until he becomes someone Cardassians trust with their deepest, darkest wounds. An old Gul shows up. As soon as he's shown into Bashir's office he bursts into sobs, full-blown panic attack. Cardassians never have panic attacks, certainly not in front of others, and certainly not Guls. But this man travelled four hours on foot because he heard this stranger listens and doesn't tell and understands, he accepts. Doesn't he know he did terrible things? But he soothes with Cardassian words on a foreign tongue and doesn't try to touch him until he asks to be held.

Soldiers whose minds can't tell if they're in space battle or on a reconstruction site. An old woman comes in and silently bares her flank. There's an old knife wound that was never treated and is gnarly on her skin, pulling it apart. This is not the first torture wound someone has silently asked to be healed, for the very first time, by Julian. A surgeon he doesn't know opens his door. He can't operate. His hands shake and all he smells is burnt flesh. Cardassia needs him so much and he just can't. Julian lets him watch his operations. See wins, watch people wake up again. Then there's the children. They say he doesn't even ask where your parents are. He just lets you sit with him. If you sob and tell him you're scared, so scared, does he even know what an orphan is worth on Cardassia, he'll hold you tightly like he wants to physically prove to you how valuable you are. He will say, clear and sure, that Cardassia would be lost without you. So foreign. If you tell him the memories are too much, he'll give you a sleeping pill that's not like the stuff you get on the street. It won't get you addicted.

He's odd, and a stranger. He has no scales but moves like that doesn't matter. He faints a lot in the sun. Garak knows Julian overworks himself and forgets how much more water he needs. He lives in constant terror that he won't be there the next time it happens, can't drag his doctor to the nearest house and pour water over his neck. And then it does happen. Garak measuredly leaves a very important meeting before breaking out into a sprint because his secretary informed him someone found Julian unconscious at midday. Garak finds him sitting in the shade. An old woman is frowning over him and insistently pouring small sips of saltwater down his throat. How does she know the right ratio? A young man is eagerly checking his pulse, pressing a little too hard from what Garak can tell, and has to listen to Julian's smiling intructions on what a normal human pulse rate is. A teen is standing at the side, not looking at Julian. Her gaze instantly snaps to Garak approaching. Like a vigil, she doesn't move from Julian's side and tracks Garak's movements until she determines who he is. Then he's levelled with a badly hidden reproachful glare, reprimanding him for leaving their doctor in peril for even a minute.

Garak takes Julian home with less words of anger than usual after these episodes. Most of it comes from fear, they both know. But he has realized that Cardassia apparently won't kill his doctor. And if she tries, her inhabitants will forcefully remind her that this Federation doctor with kind eyes and callused hands stands under the protection of a very, very loyal people.

Oh I am so writing this fic

[kugelfische]

dont fall in love

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Me when I really want to draw fanart for a fandom because it looks so cool, but I haven't the slightest idea about any deeper lore than surface level plot and symbolism

[fellowmellowo]

Garak would have loved tumblr. His blog would've been full of silly literature rants and hate posts (most of them toward gul dukat). I'd imagine he would also reblog a lot of fashion content and maby even post sketches of his own designs (the models often looking a bit too much like Julian to be an accident).

[violetren]

The great thing about the White Collar OT3 is that at no point does the introduction of Neal into El and Peter's everyday lives never feels like a threat to Peter and El's marriage.

Like from the moment Neal shows up at their house in episode one he and El hit it off.

Within the first 5 episodes Neal and El have figured out they have similar knowledge and interest in the finer things, they're sharing looks over how Peter talks about and will react to things, El is telling Peter to trust in Neal a little, Neal is helping make sure they have a lovely anniversary, and El is calling Neal in to mediate/help prove her point in mini arguments to make Peter do stuff.

They also work really well because while Peter, El, and Neal might all be slightly different flavours and intensities of hyper competent adrenaline junkie weirdos, all three of them are intensely loyal to "their people" so the second El and Neal recognised that they both trust Peter as someone who will always try to do the right thing and respect them they were like "oh green flag."

[notruevampire]

[primedirectiveposting]

Let them be in love! It's plain and simple

[lttleghost]

feminine butch Jesse Pinkman be upon ye...

Jesse is transfem - she/her with optional he/him (girl version) and feminine terms ONLY!! if you bring up how you think she is actually transmasc on this post I will not be kind to you

[perpetuallyb0red]

This took foreverrrrr

[skymallnine]

Do we have any indication of what the Cardassian visual spectrum is? Earth reptiles are kind of all over the map on this.

Personally, I like to imagine that it’s blue/green/infrared. This would have lots of fun ramifications, starting with

Redleaf tea

Humans call it redleaf tea because it’s red, while Cardassians call it redleaf tea because it’s hot. Like for them it’s redleaf tea because it turns the mug red. Drinking a tea “black” means it’s cold. Cue many hilarious misunderstandings re: Earl Grey.

Speaking of “grey”

…this would also add an extra, wacky dimension to Garak’s complaint about Romulan hearts being grey. Maybe their hearts only look grey at a specific temperature (shortly after being mysteriously murdered, one assumes). The infrared would have to match whatever green and blue tones the heart had; any warmer or cooler and it would no longer look grey.

Also, Cardassians would not look grey to other Cardassians. If we’re assuming they have less internal temperature regulation than humans, they’d be changing colors to match the ambient temperature, while humans remained a more stable color. In fact, the color of the room would shift to match them.

(the metaphors about the Federation write themselves)

Lighting

Anything warm would be emitting light, so everything is brighter by default. A warm, dimly lit room might appear equally bright to a cool, brightly lit room. But the light distribution and color temperature would be very different. The first room would have much more diffuse, warmer-colored light. The second room would have very focused, very blue-green light by comparison, appearing more like harsh fluorescents.

Clothes

Clothing would have a similar (infra)redness to the person wearing it. Matching fabric colors to someone’s complexion would be a very different process, since they’d automatically colorshift to be closer together. However, you could add more color contrast between the skin and the fabric by choosing insulating fabrics. Or maybe mixing different fabric types for different color effects. Warmer species could change the color of fabrics by touching them, adding temporary patterns/markings.

If you sell clothes, any species that doesn’t share your visual spectrum is going to get… interesting color combinations.* For example, where a human sees blue+purple, you’d see blue+dark blue. And purple, yes, but only when worn, and the purple hue would wash over the entire garment as it warmed up. Then, if someone with cooler hands touched the garment (perhaps on the shoulders), they would leave blue handprints.

*Cardassians might be able to infer shamelessly bullshit colors outside their visual spectrum by watching how they heat up. When Dukat looks at the red pah wraith earrings, they would initially look black, but they wouldn’t heat up as fast as a black gul uniform. So, weirdly, red would look more black to a Cardassian than black does — and black would look more red. A gul coming in from the sun would be the brightest thing in the room; Natima’s white dress would be more subdued, with a much dimmer (infra)red glow.

[antagonistic-sunsetgirl]

Don't get me wrong, I live for well-thought out, considerate Garak arcs. Exploring his relationship with our fave doctor, his personality, personal growth etc.

But nothing will beat the raw satisfaction of seeing that man get tossed across a room like a goddamn ragdoll. Indescripable joy.

look at him fly