#Adeption

[stardust-bridges]

Club Furies Premiere: Luct Melod - Ademption [Idelstates]

The British label Idlestates has prepares a fascinating sonic renaissance with its stunning return after a brief hiatus. It does so with a tantalizing thirteen-track Various Artists compilation. Sound delve into the avant-garde realms of electronic body music and industrial electronic music. A highly anticipated release features a carefully curated selection of pioneering artists who are…

[bevsi]

I’m not even an anti-internet person like I love the internet, I just get so frustrated with the passive way people have become accustomed to using it now. not actively seeking things out or engaging with communities, just turning their brain off & letting the algorithm feed them whatever it wants. & I can’t help but feel like that’s partially to blame for the current state of things (anti-“woke” backlash is easier to digest if you turn your brain off when online)

[arcane-gold]

i started origins again. this is pim. he was made to die

[xiranjayzhao]

Hey, all! My friend Soumi, an Indian international student in South Korea, recently fell victim to a scam that drained her of 37k USD of life savings. In Soumi's own words:

"I trusted the wrong person at a time when I was trying to send the money home to my dependent, elderly parents and was trying to move out of my one room apartment, where the ceiling is leaking and affecting my health.

Now I’m trying to survive for the sake of myself and my elderly parents--my father 79, my mother 72, both retired. We don’t have a financial safety net. My mother has severe degenerative joint disease with spinal spondylitis and is preparing for a knee transplant (~6 lakh INR or USD 7,000). If anything were to happen to them—or even to me—I don’t even have money to fly home to look after my parents. I don’t even have enough to afford food, and because I haven’t been able to pay for my medication, I’ve been struggling with insomnia, anxiety, and depression. Without my antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds, I haven’t been able to sleep at all. My health issues including GERD are worsening, but I’ve had to skip treatment."

Please chip in if you can to help her survive this crisis and reblog to signal boost

If you live in South Korea and are able to help her pursue justice, please reach out to her directly! As a foreigner in SK, she has faced so many barriers, and help from SK citizens would be invaluable.

[encounteratnearpoint]

This is killing me. In the episode Qpid, Picard’s old flame Vash reappears and she and Picard are catching up, having a flirty conversation over morning tea.

Then Dr. Crusher unexpectedly shows up and immediately tells Vash that she and Picard have morning tea together very often.

She then proceeds to sit down in the seat Picard was sitting in and starts DRINKING PICARD’S TEA??

Then she offers Vash a tour of the ship, leaving Picard alone in his room.

Power move of the century.

[inkyrainstorms]

Ford still can't seem to wrap his head around this moment. It feels to soft, too normal, but he manages to drag the words out from wherever they're stashed in him to stutter out,  “You don't have to, Stanley, honestly it's my own mess-” “Quit it Poindexter, it's just the dishes.”  Ford's mouth clicks closed, and he turns the sink on again. 

— Chapter 10 of AME

And then Ford promptly made his foot and mouth very, very well acquainted at a frankly astonishing speed

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face this entire sequence ripped my heart out and rearranged my guts so. You know. I had to.

[doublxpresso]

A dance...

Part of the Royalty AU written by Eden, in collaboration with @quarriart and @fluffy-rulos

Read the fic: A prince's favor

(Guangshi (E), 14k+, illustrated!)

[destiny2-names]

Not pictured: they were ignoring everything around them and just shooting each other

[turtleblogatlast]

I adore the idea of Leo developing a love for glam rock not only because he likes the music but also because of how many glam rock bands had vibrant and extravagant eye makeup - looks that his own red stripes were right at home with.

Like just imagine a little Leo rifling through his dad’s music and choosing to vibe with glam rock specifically because he was like “:0! Like me!:)”

[peatchoune]

Mechanical arm AU

[phantom-of-the-keurig]

Because media comprehension and critical thinking is so dead I hope bad batch season 3 has a scene where Dave Filoni, in animated form, walks into frame with a chair where he then sits down and makes direct eye contact with the viewer as he says, “This next scene was directly influenced by the current day veteran crisis and the difficulties many ex-military members face while trying to integrate back into the civilian world. In fact, many of the themes and stories within the bad batch are reflections of what many service members experience, told through a Star Wars lens-”

And I hope he doesn’t blink once the entire time

[burntlikethesun]

can't stop thinking about poor Ruby having to improvise song lyrics to a great big goblin king and just coming up with 'it's good to meet you, good to greet you... good to say "how diddly deet you"'

[point-two-two]

Reading this paragraph it occurred to me: yet another thing that the webtoon was not able to convey due to medium is that Yoojin has an incredibly sharp eye for talent even aside from his skill. He's thought things like this before (e.g. that Myungwoo should sell his cooking) and it's interesting to see that that twig skill is very much linked to his personality just like everyone else's skills are

[childrenofcain-if]

That one scenario where C and MC have a kid has my heart completely 😭 Can we get a follow up for that? How are things going on in the joint household? I'm also very curious to see what C would name their kid 🤭

the hershey’s kisses glinted in the late afternoon sun, crinkled foil catching the golden light that streamed in through the window. aster sat cross-legged on the sofa, a small island of contentment in the messy sprawl of school bags and discarded socks she’d left in her wake.

she was humming under her breath as she unwrapped another piece of chocolate, oblivious to the way her shoes lay in two opposite corners of the room and how her lunchbox sat precariously balanced on the edge of the coffee table.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and watching her with the detached amusement of a parent who knows they’ll have to clean up the mess but hasn’t yet summoned the energy to do so.

C was in the armchair, one foot propped on the edge of the ottoman, clicking through their macbook with half an eye on aster. it was domesticity in its sweetest form, the kind you don’t think about when you’re young and idealistic, imagining love and family like perfect polaroids on a wall.

“did you give her those?” C asked suddenly, their voice louder than the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

you blinked and set your coffee down, moving closer to inspect the crumpled foil wrappers littered around aster.

“nope,” you said after a beat. “not exactly either of our flavor. that’s… what is that, cherry? we don’t have those in the house.”

C arched a brow, and without missing a beat, turned their full attention to your daughter.

“aster,” they said, voice soft but with a worried edge, “where did you get the chocolates?”

aster’s head snapped up, her chalcedony green eyes lighting up with excitement.

“felix gave them to me!” she said, her grin wide enough to show the little gap where her front tooth had fallen out last week.

C froze, their hand tightening slightly on the edge of their macbook. you, on the other hand, were far more amused.

“felix, huh?” you said, crouching slightly to meet aster’s eye level. “and who’s felix again?”

her grin grew impossibly wider as she happily declared: “my boyfriend!”

you chuckled, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “oh, really? you have a boyfriend now, kleine ster? when did this happen?”

“this morning actually!” aster exclaimed, bouncing a little on the cushions. “he gave me the chocolates at recess and said he liked me, and i said i liked him too, and now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend!”

C’s eye twitched, a muscle jumping just beneath the surface. they sat up straighter, their attention now fully honed on your seven-year-old’s revelation.

“did he now?” they said, their voice tight. “and what else did this... felix boy say?”

aster frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “uh… he said i could have the last red crayon in art class.”

“generous of him,” they muttered darkly, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“C,” you said warningly, but they ignored you, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone about to conduct an interrogation.

“and does this felix… hold your hand?” they asked, their tone too casual to be actually genuine.

“sometimes,” aster admitted, her brows knitting together.

C’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “does he share his lunch with you?”

“yeah, today he gave me his oreos!”

C’s jaw twitched. you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“C,” you said again, a little louder this time. “let it go, darling. they’re just kids.”

but they were too far gone now, leaning forward as though proximity might grant them any sort of control over the situation.

“aster,” they said with all the solemnity of someone at a funeral, “you can’t have a boyfriend. you’re too young. your brain isn’t fully developed. you’ll... you’ll explode! you’ll leave your parents all alone then and it’ll make us very sad.”

aster blinked at them, unwrapping another hershey’s kiss with deliberate slowness.

“i will explode?” she asked, clearly confused by this turn of events.

you rolled your eyes. “no, you wo—”

“yes, you will,” C insisted, cutting you off. “and anyway, you’re not allowed to date anyone until you’re like 30 and paying taxes. it’s a rule.”

“that’s not a rule,” aster said with the stubborn certainty of someone who knew she was right. she really was her parents’ daughter. “and felix is a good boy.”

“‘good,’” C muttered under their breath, glaring at the imaginary felix as though he was lurking in the shadows, waiting to hand their precious little star another chocolate. “i’m going to fight this seven-year-old.”

“C!” you snapped, stepping between them and placing a hand on C’s shoulder. “calm down, my love. it’s harmless.”

C leaned back reluctantly, their gaze flicking between you and aster, who was now watching them like they’d sprouted a second head.

“fine,” they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

***

after dinner, aster sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined a tiny instruction manual for building LEGOs with the intensity of someone decoding the human genome. her fingers, small but deft, picked up pieces and slotted them into place, her movements sure and deliberate.

C sat beside her, their long legs folded awkwardly beneath them, one hand bracing their bad knee. their fingers worked slower than hers, more hesitantly. the gap between them—her bright enthusiasm, their cautious quiet—was almost laughable. but C didn’t laugh.

they watched her instead.

aster had inherited their stubbornness, the precision of their thoughts, the way they spoke with certainty even when they were wrong, the hard-headed refusal to back down in the face of a challenge. but she’d also inherited your warmth, your easy charisma, the way people seemed to orbit around you like you were some kind of gravitational force.

she was both of you, but neither of you. something wholly her own. and she shone so brilliantly.

“non,” aster said suddenly, shaking her head. she spoke in a tone that was equal parts exasperated and amused, the way one might speak to a child who couldn’t quite grasp a simple concept. “that piece goes here. look.” she leaned over, plucking a flat blue brick from the pile and snapping it into place on the half-constructed spaceship.

“ah,” C said, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “of course, petite étoile. how foolish of me.”

she beamed proudly, her confidence growing with each small victory.

“it’s okay. you’re still learning,” she said magnanimously, patting their arm. honestly, it amused C greatly to see her reflect you back when you both argued everyday like your life depended on it.

C snorted, shaking their head. “merci, mademoiselle.”

“pas de problème,” she replied breezily, her accent and pronunciation impeccably like a parisian native.

C felt a pang of pride so sharp it was almost painful. french had been one of their gifts to her, a piece of their heritage they had handed down like an heirloom. and she had taken to it effortlessly, as if it had always been hers.

she slipped between languages with a grace that left C in awe, her young mind absorbing everything like a sponge.

“wat is dit?” she asked suddenly, holding up a strange piece they hadn’t encountered yet.

“hmm,” you said from where you were sprawled on the couch, your legs stretched out and a book resting on your chest. you barely looked up as you answered her in dutch, explaining what the piece was and where it might fit.

aster nodded thoughtfully, her small fingers turning the piece over as she considered its possibilities. C watched her, their heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief.

how could someone so small hold so much brilliance? how could she be so much more than they had ever dared to imagine for themself?

“do you think felix likes LEGOs?” aster asked suddenly, breaking their reverie. she was staring at them now, her eyes—C’s eyes, pale green and perceptive—narrowed in thought.

C felt their jaw tighten at the mention of the boy, the ghost of their earlier irritation flickering to life.

“i have no idea,” they said evenly, focusing on the spaceship.

aster tilted her head, clearly unconvinced by their tone.

“he’s nice,” she said firmly, as though this simple fact should erase all of C’s doubts.

“i’m sure he is,” C said, their tone carefully neutral.

you glanced up from your book, smirking slightly as you watched the exchange. let it go, your eyes seemed to say.

but it wasn’t that simple.

it wasn’t about this felix boy, not really. it was about aster, about the inexorable passage of time, about the impossibility of holding on to something as fragile and fleeting as childhood. she was growing up, and there was nothing C could do to stop it.

C reached for another LEGO brick, their fingers brushing against aster’s. she looked up at them, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“tu vas bien?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

the question caught them off guard. for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. how could they explain the tangled mess of emotions that had been simmering inside them all day? how could they tell her that the thought of her growing up terrified them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate?

“i’m fine, petite étoile,” they said eventually, forcing a smile. “just tired.”

she seemed to accept this, turning her attention back to the spaceship. but C couldn’t help noticing the small furrow in her brow, the way her hands moved more slowly now, as if she was trying to puzzle something out.

they watched her in silence, their heart aching with a strange, bittersweet kind of love.

***

later, when the spaceship was complete and aster had been tucked into bed, C found themself sitting on the edge of your shared bed, their head in their hands.

“okay,” you said, sitting beside them. “do you want to talk about what exactly is bothering you, my love?”

they sighed, looking up at you now.

“it’s just… strange,” they said, their voice low and tired. “she’s growing up so fast. too fast. i feel like i blinked, and suddenly she’s not my little girl anymore.”

you stayed quiet, letting them find the words.

“i still remember holding her in my arms for the first time,” they continued, their voice thick with emotion. “i remember her first steps, her first word, the first time she looked at me and called out for me. and now… now she’s talking about boyfriends and whatnot.”

they let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through their hair. “i didn’t have this. a proper childhood. a father who cared. i don’t know what i’m doing half the time. i just… i look at her, and i love her so much it terrifies me. so much so that i still don’t understand how my father could—”

“hey,” you interrupted gently, placing a hand on their arm. “you’re nothing like him. you’re such a wonderful parent, C. she loves you so much. you can see it every time she looks at you. and yeah, it’s hard watching her grow up. but that’s the deal. you love them, and you let them go, little by little, so they can become who they’re meant to be.”

C nodded slowly, their eyes softening as they looked at you. “i know you’re right.”

you leaned in, pressing a kiss to their temple. “of course i’m right, i always am.”

they rolled their eyes, but a small, tired smile tugged at the corners of their mouth.

“do you think…” they hesitated, the tips of their ears turning adorably red. “do you think we should have another one?”

“another what?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

they scowled, burying their face in your neck.

“you know what i mean,” they mumbled, their voice muffled. “don’t make me say it out loud.”

you laughed, stroking their hair. “we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

but you already knew the answer.

[canisalbus]

I feel like modern au Machete would really like watching/listening to asmr videos to relax. Nail tapping, wood etc, no mouth sounds (because they would freak him out). Vasco would be more of a rain/fireplace sounds kinda asmr enjoyer

Mmm, maybe? Asmr is a pretty varied genre, and I feel like there's a lot of irregular/messy/gross/unpredictable material that would have an irritating effect on him rather than relaxing.

Machete might occasionally give mindfulness exercises and audio guided meditation a honest try, thanks to his therapist's recommendation. He'd be secretive about the whole thing because of his own scepticism and embarrassement about having to resort to such "unscientific methods" to keep himself stable. His results would vary, but it would be vastly preferable to his previous favorite coping habit of stress smoking.

Vasco would be a rain/fireplace sounds enjoyer, yes, and I can imagine him layering them with his music of choice on occasion. But he's also a natural-born grass toucher so if he needs a moment to clear his head, he might just go for a walk. Lately I've been envisioning him having an interest in vinyl records and (film) cameras, so he might not be overly reliant on screens for fun and relaxation as a person.