#Low Code Experts

[stepfinity]

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[ryoflix]

sukuna as your personal fashion expert | f. reader, s/h prns., crack 'n fluff, slightly suggestive, estb. rl ؛ ଓ

sukuna is a coat hanger. 

yes, you heard that right. among his growing resume of boyfriend-slash-manager-slash-walking tripod-slash-ring light technician-slash-makeup guinea pig, he now holds the highly coveted position of personal wardrobe scaffolding. 

see, sukuna listens. which is dangerous and terrifying. because when you date a man who listens, remembers, and is also annoyingly perceptive, it means you’ve basically handed your entire closet into the hands of a fashion demon with opinions.

“you said the grey top rides up when you raise your arms,” he tells you flatly, not looking up from his phone. “don’t wear that if we’re filming.”

“you’ll get pit stains in the sage green one again,” he adds.

“the beige set makes your hips look good but the pants wrinkle like shit.”

you’re standing there, half-naked, sock half-on, blinking in slow horror. “how do you—?”

he finally looks up. slowly. knowingly. “i watch you get dressed every day. do you think i’m blind?”

and yeah, maybe you tease him and slap his ass when he holds up six different jeans for you like a tired little scarecrow, arms out, expression blank, eye twitching every time a hanger digs into his wrist. “left arm is for low rise,” he mumbles. “right is mid rise. pick one and hurry the fuck up, this shit is poking me.” you grin, walking a slow circle around him, inspecting like you’re at a boutique. 

“mmm. this one gives me a bubble butt. thoughts?”

his eyes flick downward. he’s silent for a beat. then—

“makes me want to bend you over the bathroom sink.”

“excuse me?!”

“you asked, babe.”

but his input doesn’t stop there. sometimes he lays out full outfits for you before you’ve even opened your eyes, muttering, “the brand wants clean lines today. you’re filming that serum demo, right? go with the mock neck and leather pants.”

sometimes he gently tugs a hoodie off your shoulder, deadpan: “you cannot do an unboxing video in a bleach-stained zip-up. we have a reputation.”

sometimes he just walks up behind you in the mirror, straightens a strap, tucks a loose thread, kisses the corner of your jaw and says, “perfect.”

and sure, he grumbles about it and pretends he’s burdened. but he’s the one who bought extra closet racks, the one who arranged your color-coded drawer system. the one who says, “if you’re doing soft glam today, wear the boots that make you look tall. your followers eat that shit up.”

he’s the one who catches your hand every time you reach for something last minute and murmurs, “nah, that’s not it. not today. go with the mauve one. that’s yours.”

because he sees you. every version. every era. every phase. and he just wants to make sure the world sees the best of it, too. and if that means becoming a human coat rack, so be it. 

just don’t tell him he’s sweet. he’ll bite. probably. unless you’re wearing that skirt.

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

_____________________

Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port… will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

_____________________

-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Upd: There is a next part!

Previous

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Carmy stood in the dimly lit laundry room, hands on his hips as he glared at the washing machine like it had personally wronged him. The display panel flashed erratically, like it was trying to send an SOS in Morse code, while a faint but concerning smell of burning plastic wafted through the air.

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. All he wanted was to wash his clothes—just one normal task in a sea of chaos. Apparently, even that was asking too much.

With a frustrated sigh, he muttered curses under his breath and gave the machine a half-hearted nudge with his foot, as if that might magically revive it. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. The machine remained defiantly lifeless.

“Wow. Bold strategy. Were you planning to wrestle it next?”

The voice startled him. He turned sharply to see you standing in the doorway, holding a laundry basket overflowing with brightly colored clothes. You were dressed in the epitome of Saturday comfort: an oversized t-shirt with a graphic that read 'Physics: It’s Not Rocket Science... Oh, Wait, Yes It Is,' paired with baggy sweatpants and ridiculously fluffy, colorful monster feet slippers. Your hair was slightly messy like you’d just rolled out of bed—or perhaps fought the laundry demons he was now dealing with.

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you tilted your head. “I’m impressed. I didn’t know machines responded to passive-aggressive foot taps.”

Carmy let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t have a better idea.”

“Well,” you said, stepping into the room and setting your basket down on the counter, “I hate to break it to you, but this thing looks like it’s plotting your demise. What’s the issue? Won’t open?”

“It stopped mid-cycle,” he explained, gesturing toward the uncooperative machine. “Clothes are stuck. It’s probably fried.”

“Oof. Smells like defeat and polyester.” You crouched down to inspect the machine, tilting your head like a mechanic sizing up a stubborn engine. “Looks like it’s giving you the silent treatment. Did you try apologizing? Promising to separate your whites and darks next time?”

“Funny,” Carmy deadpanned, though the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

You straightened up, planting your hands on your hips in a stance that could only be described as authoritative. “Well, lucky for you, Carmy-next-door, I happen to be an expert in broken things.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “Yeah? How’s that?”

You let out a playful scoff, crouching in front of the washing machine as if it were a patient in need of your expertise. “When you work in a place that runs on shoestring budgets and prayers, you pick up a thing or two about fixing stuff. I’ve practically got a minor in MacGyver-ing. It’s part of my many talents.”

He smirked, watching as you pressed a few buttons and tapped the side of the machine like you were coaxing it back to life. “Sounds like a tough gig.”

“Oh, it’s a blast,” you replied sarcastically with a grin, peering at the machine’s latch. “But the real fun is my lovely fourth graders and their… slippery fingers. Nothing keeps you on your toes like finding out your class stapler’s been dismantled to ‘see how it works.’”

“And you adore them,” Carmy guessed, his voice soft but sure.

“Ugh, to a fault,” you admitted, sitting back on your heels to glance at him. “They’re chaos in human form, but they’re my chaos. Like when Marcus decided to see if he could use glitter glue as a bookmark. Spoiler alert: he couldn’t. And then there was Kayla’s science project that involved exactly zero science but a lot of snacks. Kids are wild, but they’re kind of the best.”

Carmy chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

You huff a laugh nodding. “But they make all the broken stuff worth it... also, they’ve prepared me for moments like this. Fixing things? I’m a pro. Diffusing meltdowns? Also a pro. Dodging paper balls? Let’s just say my reflexes are unmatched.”

He chuckled quietly, his blue eyes softening as he observed your easy confidence. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Oh, hardly,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh.

He watched as you tinkered with the inner workings of the washer, the way your monster-footed slippers stuck out behind you, and the light in your eyes as you spoke about your students. There was something captivating about the way you moved—confident but never overbearing, your words spilling out in an endless stream of humor and warmth. For someone who probably dealt with endless chaos in your day-to-day life, you had an energy about you—warmth—messy and vibrant—that felt oddly grounding in his otherwise muted world.

Finally, with a triumphant click, the washer’s door popped open. A puff of warm, damp air escaped, carrying with it the faint scent of detergent. You rocked back on your heels, grinning up at him as if you’d just disarmed a bomb.

“And there you have it!” you declared standing up, sweeping your arm dramatically toward the liberated laundry like a game show host revealing a grand prize. “Your clothes are finally free, Chef Carmy. Laundry liberation, courtesy of yours truly. I accept gratitude in the form of snacks, coffee, or eternal admiration—your choice. But please, no autographs. I have to stay humble.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” Carmy said, huffing a quiet laugh as he shook his head, stepping forward to start transferring the damp clothes into another machine. His tone softened slightly as he added, “But thanks, really. I owe you one.”

You waved a hand dismissively, already moving to the next machine with your own basket in tow.

“Don’t worry about it, Carmy…” you said, your tone casual, though the smirk playing on your lips suggested otherwise. “But, if you do feel like you want to repay me, feel free to bring me more of those leftovers—like the ones you brought when I first moved in.”

He paused, eyebrows raising slightly as he met your gaze. “That’s what you want? Leftovers?”

“Not just any leftovers,” you clarified, turning back to load more clothes. “The fancy ones. Braised short ribs, perfectly roasted vegetables... whatever culinary magic you’re whipping up in that kitchen of yours. Don’t think I forgot.”

Carmy paused mid-transfer, glancing at you with a faint, almost embarrassed smile. “You liked those, huh?”

“Liked?” you scoffed, tossing a pair of socks into the machine. “I was ready to write you a thank-you sonnet. That braised short rib? Poetry in food form. You’ve ruined me for takeout forever.”

He chuckled softly, shutting the door to his machine. “It was just a test recipe.”

“Well, then I’d be happy to test more of your recipes,” you said with a wink, starting your own machine and leaning back against it. “Strictly as a favor, of course. I’m nothing if not generous.”

“Generous,” he repeated, shaking his head with a smirk as he pressed the start button on his machine. He glanced at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

“See?” you teased, flashing him a grin. “You’re already getting the hang of this whole neighborly exchange thing. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my expectations high.”

Carmy shook his head, letting out another quiet laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you quipped, settling yourself into the nearby chair and grabbing a book from the empty laundry basket at your feet. You opened it casually, like you weren’t fully aware of the fact that his attention was still on you. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Chef Carmy. I’ve got standards now.”

Carmy smirked faintly, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, arms loosely crossed. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended, watching as you flipped through the book, completely at ease. The light in the room, though dim and slightly yellowed, softened your features, making you look... warm. Pretty, even. The oversized t-shirt, the messy hair, and those ridiculous monster slippers didn’t detract from it—in fact, they only made you more endearing. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Instead, he tucked the thought neatly into the back of his mind, letting it sit there quietly.

The faint hum of the working washing machine filled the space, stretching the silence between you into something that felt oddly comfortable. He wasn’t used to that—not in conversations, not in moments like these. Usually, silence felt heavy, awkward, something to be broken. But this? This felt... different.

Still, the need to say something eventually won out, despite his lack of finesse with small talk. Clearing his throat softly, Carmy shifted his weight and finally asked, “So... uh, how are you liking it here?”

You glanced up from your book, your lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “In the building? Or in the laundry room?”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh, looking down briefly before meeting your eyes again. “The biulding, I guess."

“Oh, it’s not bad,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “The walls are a little thin—I may or may not know the entire plot of the soap opera your upstairs neighbor is binging—but they are decent. A little quiet, though, except for one guy who keeps kicking appliances. Total menace.”

“Sounds rough,” Carmy deadpanned, though his smirk gave him away.

“It is,” you said with mock solemnity before your smile softened. “But honestly? I like it. It’s... cozy, you know? Feels like a place where things can settle down.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. “That’s good.”

“It’s growing on me,” you admitted, closing the book and resting it on your lap. “I mean, it’s not every day you move into a building and immediately make friends with someone who’s probably going to be on the cover of Some Fancy Chef Magazine someday.”

��Friends?” he said, arching a brow.

“Yeah, friends,” you replied with a teasing grin. “Or at least laundry room acquaintances.”

He shook his head, his smirk softening into something closer to genuine. “Friend's better.”

"Good," You smiled, shifting slightly in your chair. “So, Carmy-next-door, aside from working and battling possessed washing machines, what do you do for fun?”

“For fun?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as though you’d just asked him to name every spice in his kitchen alphabetically. “Uh... I don’t know. Not sure I’ve got much time for that.”

“Not buying it,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Everyone’s got something. Come on, spill. What’s your guilty pleasure? Do you secretly knit in your downtime? Binge-watch trashy reality TV? Start a garden but refuse to tell anyone because it ruins your ‘serious chef’ vibe? And if you are, I know someone who could be your new best friend.”

He let out another quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “None of those, but now I’m thinking I should start knitting just to throw people off.”

“Do it,” you said, pointing at him. “Then you can make me a scarf. But seriously, what’s your thing? There’s gotta be something.”

Carmy hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “I guess... sometimes I’ll just walk around the city. Clears my head, you know?”

You nodded, smiling softly. “That’s a solid choice. City walks are like people-watching with a side of fresh air. What’s your favorite spot?”

“There's this park near the river. Quiet, not too crowded. Good place to think." Carmy tells her.

"Sounds nice," you replied, smiling. "I might have to check it out sometime."

"You should," Carmy said, his expression softening. He clears his throat, "I-uh, I used to draw, though. Sketch stuff when I had the time.”

“Used to?” you asked, leaning forward a bit, intrigued. “You mean you don’t anymore? Or are you just too modest to admit you’ve got sketchbooks hidden under your bed?”

His smirk faltered into something a little more genuine, a touch of shyness creeping into his expression. “I still do. Sometimes. When things aren’t too crazy.”

“Now that’s interesting,” you said, sitting back with a thoughtful smile. “What kind of stuff do you draw? People? Landscapes? Elaborate food masterpieces?”

“A little of everything,” he said with a small shrug. “But mostly recipes, or at least how I want them to look."

“Like a visual diary,” you said, nodding. “That’s actually really cool.”

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing big.”

“Carmy,” you said, tilting your head at him. “You just admitted to having an actual hobby, and I’m here for it. Don’t downplay it.”

He huffed, shaking his head flushing ever so slightly. “Alright. What about you? What do you do for fun?”

“Me?” you repeated, your eyes lighting up as you sat back in the chair, clutching your book like a prop in a comedy routine. “Well, let’s see. I’m a professional daydreamer, certified in overthinking, and an expert-level snack enthusiast. It’s an impressive resume, I know.”

Carmy chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching into a rare smile. “Sounds like a full-time job.”

“Oh, it is,” you said with a mock-serious nod. “But if we’re being serious... I like to read, obviously.” You held up the book for emphasis. “And I’m a sucker for a good movie. Big screen, small screen, doesn’t matter. I also like to go out with friends— go to clubs, a karaoke bar, grab dinner, play board games, complain about life. You know, the usual.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “Any favorites? Books or movies?”

“Hmm,” you mused, tapping your chin. “For books, I like a little bit of everything—mysteries, fantasy, even the occasional cheesy romance. Keeps life interesting. And movies... I’m a sucker for feel-good comedies. But every now and then, I’ll binge something dark and broody just to balance it out.”

Carmy nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Feel-good comedies? Got any recommendations?”

“Oh, I’ve got tons,” you said, your eyes gleaming. “But only if you’re ready for some real classics. Think Clueless, The Princess Bride, or When Harry Met Sally. If you’ve never seen those, we might have to reassess this friendship.”

“Clueless,” he repeated, remembering the movie because of Natalie who forced him and Mikey to watch it, one eyebrow-raising. “That the one with ‘As if’?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, pointing at him with enthusiasm. “See? You’re already on the right track.”

He smirked, shaking his head again. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“What about you? Do you watch movies, or is that too much fun for someone as serious as Chef Carmy?”

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I watch stuff sometimes. Nothing specific. Just... whatever’s on.”

“Lame answer,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ll work on that. I’ll make you a list. Everyone needs go-to favorite movies.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said, his smirk softening.

“Good,” you replied with a playful nod, leaning back in your chair. “And since you’re such a layer enigma, like an onion, I’m guessing you don’t do the whole ‘night out with friends’ thing often?”

“Not really,” he admitted, his tone quieter now. “Doesn’t happen much.”

“You should,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your tone teasing but warm. “You might surprise yourself. One minute you’re awkwardly standing in a corner, and the next, you’re reenacting a dance scene from Dirty Dancing with a stranger. That’s how the best stories happen.”

Carmy shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Not sure that’s my thing.”

“Hey, it doesn’t have to be Dirty Dancing,” you said with a shrug. “But everyone deserves a good night out now and then. Even mysterious chef-next-door types.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But no promises.”

“Fair,” you replied, looking over at him with a soft smile. “I’m just saying, Chef Carmy, you can’t live in your kitchen forever. Sometimes you’ve gotta step out and find your own rom-com moment.”

Carmy stared at you for a moment, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. He shook his head, as though amused by something he couldn’t quite put into words, but the warmth in his expression lingered.

The hum of the machines filled the room, a soft backdrop to your easy conversation. What started as playful banter drifted into more thoughtful exchanges—small glimpses into each other’s lives, quirks, and histories.

Minutes melted into what felt like seconds, neither of you noticing the time slipping away. For once, it wasn’t about schedules, responsibilities, or the ever-present noise of the outside world. Just two neighbors sharing stories in the glow of the laundry room’s dim light.

A/N: So, thank you so much for all the support. It really keeps me going. I'm thinking of making like a small series of this, like a few interactions before they started dating- maybe some jealousy along the way lol- the first date- maybe the future but idk.

Also, just in case I do, please tell me if you would like to be tagged.

Part 4?

@themorriganisamonster

[stevespookington]

We are heading into severe weather season in the US soon (and by soon I mean tomorrow) (disclaimer, this is all general advice. pay attention to the official weather sources in your area for alerts and important information. I am not an expert, weather info is just a hobby for me.)

National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA)/National Weather Service (NWS) has (for now anyways) the Storm Prediction Center (SPC) which is a great source of information to stay weather aware.

The SPC puts out Convective Outlooks. These show where thunderstorms and severe weather have the potential to pop up. (With temperatures warming up, the movement of warm air leads to convection in the atmosphere which results in thunderstorms and sometimes severe weather. There is a good blog post going into more detail here)

Specifically, the outlooks are:

Day 1 Outlook (today and early tomorrow morning)

Day 2 Outlook (the next 24 hours following early tomorrow morning)

Day 3 Outlook (the next 24 hours)

Day 4-8 Outlook (the next days, but these are never too certain due to the way the models work)

These outlooks are timestamped with Zulu time aka Coordinated Universal Time (UTC). You can see how that compares to your local timezone here.

Today (3/13/25), the weather outlook is okay, just a slight risk of thunderstorms across the US. However, Friday (3/14/25) and Saturday (3/15/25) both have a widespread risk of severe weather including strong winds and tornadoes.

If you are in any of these colored regions, stay weather aware! Now, this doesn't mean you have to panic, but keep an eye on the weather reports in your area!

I tend to check the SPC in the morning so I know when I have to really be paying attention to the weather for the day/coming days.

Below is more info on the color coding which you can read more about here. (In addition here is a powerpoint from the NWS with more information "12 Things You Need to Know: Severe Weather Outlooks")

Tips on staying weather aware, it's important to have access to several weather sources.

Check the SPC for updates!

Find your closest NWS Forecast Office via zip code on weather.gov

Keep an eye on the local news and local weather reports

Consider getting a weather radio! (info here from NWS) This is good for if you lose power/internet as you can check the automated radio stations near you

Check the radar (I use the radarscope app) but you can check online with websites like radar.weather.gov or wunderground.com

Ryan Hall Y'all is a youtube channel that livestreams during most severe weather outbreaks

More weather info:

Severe Weather 101

How NOAA Satellites Help Us Stay Ahead of Severe Weather Season

How to Use and Interpret Doppler Weather Radar

TropicalTidbits - Info on hurricanes and other tropical weather

NWS - Emergency Supplies Kit Info

Weather Prediction Center - similar to SPC but more generalized

What to do During a Tornado (via NWS):

Stay Weather-Ready: Continue to listen to local news or a NOAA Weather Radio to stay updated about tornado watches and warnings.

At Your House: If you are in a tornado warning, go to your basement, safe room, or an interior room away from windows. Don't forget pets if time allows.

At Your Workplace or School: Follow your tornado drill and proceed to your tornado shelter location quickly and calmly. Stay away from windows and do not go to large open rooms such as cafeterias, gymnasiums, or auditoriums.

Outside: Seek shelter inside a sturdy building immediately if a tornado is approaching. Sheds and storage facilities are not safe. Neither is a mobile home or tent.  If you have time, get to a safe building.

In a vehicle: Being in a vehicle during a tornado is not safe. The best course of action is to drive to the closest shelter. If you are unable to make it to a safe shelter, either get down in your car and cover your head, or abandon your car and seek shelter in a low lying area such as a ditch or ravine.

NOAA and NWS are under threat from everything going on right now. (Hundreds of weather forecasters fired in latest wave of DOGE cuts.) They provide vital services and do very important research about our weather and climate. While 5calls.org does not currently have a template centered on NOAA/NWS, they have similar ones that you could reference, modify, and use. (I have modified one below that you might consider using.) (5calls.org also has other very important scripts that you might use for other issues.) Please consider calling your representatives and telling them how important weather information is to everybody and that they should be protecting it, not defunding it. Not only for severe weather, but for climate change research and more.

Hi, my name is [NAME] and I’m a constituent from [CITY, ZIP]. I'm calling to demand that [REP/SEN NAME] oppose any legislation, or efforts by the executive branch to dismantle or abolish the National Weather Service or the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. The recent reduction in staff is unacceptable, and will put Americans' lives and property at risk to severe weather. Reduced warning capabilities will put lives at risk and could potentially make response and recovery more hazardous and more expensive. Thank you for your time and consideration. IF LEAVING VOICEMAIL: Please leave your full street address to ensure your call is tallied.

While this is geared towards the US, a lot of this information can be applied via resources specific to your country. And finally, to quote Ryan Hall, Don't be Scared, Be Prepared.

[nobodyinfart]

Is your love as unrequited as you think? Or does the team hide more than you think?

Maybe you’re just a lower rank soldier or just lack the confidence,, but you don’t believe that a love with the main characters of the task force would be possible, even in your daydreams as a hopeless romantic.

Johnny’s achievements are nothing to be humble about, being the youngest candidate to pass the selections process and being deemed a demolitions expert are ever praiseworthy. His cheeky demeanour makes even the quietest soldiers crack a smile, and lights up the base unlike any other. Maybe that’s why you code him as Sunshine in your journals,, scrawling affirmations of adoration between the margins. Coded lines of love decorated your many notebooks, all sealed within the depths of your cabinet to never see the light of day. Of course, you’d know it’s too selfish of you to ever confess, since there is no possible chance. Maybe you would change your mind if you ever caught a glance of how Soap casts his first look at you to see if you laughed at one of his corny jokes. Definitely making notes on what kind of jokes make you smile the brightest, obviously.

Although understated, Gaz is obviously brawns and beauty. Like, was it really necessary for him to have the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen? You can barely focus, line of sight often slipping down to his lips before moving them back up just to feign ignorance. You saw him as an aspiration at first, viewing his top place on the SAS selection rankings to be a goal to achieve. It wasn’t long for that awe to morph into something more affectionate. Dangerous territory, too dangerous that you decide to bury yourself in your training. Trying to snap yourself out of that lovesick daze, you push yourself to your own limits in the process. Using that pain to distract yourself, you definitely don’t notice Gaz’s worried gaze when you head towards the training grounds once again, his concern evident when he realises your hands are still bruised from the previous day. He’ll have to sneak some ointment into your gym bag again, somehow.

Ghost, who doesn’t know him? The stoic Lieutenant in the task force, prime of his trade in ambush and stealth. It’s tough to even get familiar with him, let alone be in a relationship with the lieutenant. Respecting his quiet demeanour, you have always kept your distance as a form of respect; never pushing more than what you know he can handle. A secret is that you always keep his tea bags in stock, replenishing when stocks go low. Simon hides a secret of his own; sometimes gripping the standard military knife you normally practise with to gauge your hand size,, just for an accurate daydream of how your hands would fit in his own. Would your fingers lace with his just as well as he imagines? Don’t tell anyone, but Simon has been staring at you long enough for Soap to notice, who knew Ghost could be so distracted?

Honestly, Price is the one you have to be the most cautious about. Out of everyone in the force, he is the most observant thanks to his expertise in the military field. Rugged and charming, it is not hard at all for Price to get your attention. His gravely chuckle lights a fire in your stomach, you desperately wishing to be the cause of it someday. Yet, a love between a Captain and his subordinate remains unfeasible on all sorts of levels, especially one as devoted to his job as John Price. Even if your love is impossible, you always try to make his life easier; doing paperwork with both speed and detail. Often, his heart softens when he sees a light peeking from under the door of your office, hoping for an opportunity to get to know the angel who files their reports perfectly. No matter how much he shouldn’t, he sincerely hopes to find a chance to make himself a stable placement in your life soon enough.

[anemhoez]

Otherworldly…

Boothill/AFAB Reader

tags: @bokukenmakuroo

WARNINGS: unprotected sex I GUESS?? he doesn’t ejaculate and its made of fine grade silicone sooo????

A/N: in where Boothill gets a check-up 🤭 ok ok so the recent quest let us know more about him and this has been in the drafts for a while so there will be inaccuracies hehe and alot left to my imagination, yes im a robot fucker HEHE! also please imagine my man with the prettiest most perfect robot dick you’ve ever seen, lord i just know its big…oh also im not a robotics or programming expert but they’re in space and stuff im sure tech like this exists in their world SOMEHOW loll

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

“Hold still, it should only take a few seconds.” you said to Boothill as he fidgeted under your touch. “I’m ticklish doc,” he said with a sharp toothed smile as you replaced one of the many sensory devices on the metal skin at his shoulder.

“The famous interstellar galaxy ranger being subdued by a bit of tickling? Don’t let your enemies find out.” Once finished, you reattached the cover and made sure it was flush with the other metal parts of his body. He truly was a technological marvel, sleek and efficient with not one line of code or piece of hardware going to waste. You considered yourself lucky to be his technician, a job offer you were pleasantly surprised by.

“You think I’ve got enemies?” he asked with sincerity, not believing that there were people out there who actually didn’t like him, or even targeted him. “I’ve seen the reports Boot.” you quickly pulled up a program on the screen in front of you to begin configuring the new sensor.

“Thats all…alternative facts, darlin.” you simply rolled your eyes and input some commands, ignoring his silly statement. “You say your synesthesia beacon was hacked?” you asked for reassurance, not once looking away from the screen and you heard as he sucked his teeth behind you.

“It sure forkin’ was, you think you can fix it?” You knew you were a great technician, fantastic even. But taking down an IPC virus? That was something you’d need a few days to crack. “I can try,” you cocked your head to the side, your statement causing him to jump up off the examination table in excitement.

“But aside from that and the sensor malfunction, is there anything else you need looking at?” you asked as you typed quickly. “You might as well get everything looked at before you head back out.” He stayed quiet though, not answering your question but instead turning away from you.

“Boothill?” you asked turning to him, realizing he was awfully quiet for someone who just jumped up for joy. He rubbed the back of his neck, “We have, doctor and patient confidentiality right?” he asked in a low gravely voice, as if someone would be able to hear him outside of your workshop.

“Dammit boothill! I’m a mechanic not a doctor!” you exclaimed absolutely sick of him calling you by a title you didn’t have credentials for. “So no we don’t but,” you stood up and walked over to him, turning his body around in a circle looking him over to see if it was something visible on him you could fix right away. “I’m not going to go around and talk about it if that’s what you mean.”

You placed a hand on your hip, “I may not look it cause I’m usually covered in grease and keep my workshop a mess, but I do consider myself a professional you know.” he sighed and looked at you, “Of course you are! You’re one of the best machinists I’ve ever had, it’s just. Aw fudge how do I even say this?!”

He resigned himself to feeling foolish for the worries he had. “I’m uh, having trouble with…intimacy.” he finally said, meeting your eyes. “Well, I’m also not a match maker so…” you looked at him with an eyebrow raised. He sighed and held his head in his hands, “Finding a partner isn’t the issue, it’s when I’m with someone. I can’t really feel it, you understand?”

You tried to picture it in your mind. Could cyborgs even achieve an orgasm? And even if they could, could they ejaculate? The scholar in you was fascinated, but the friend and professional in you was ready to help in any way you could.

You grabbed a tool from your bench quickly and headed back towards him. “Drop ‘em.” you said matter of factly pointing to his pants and he clutched his groin in reaction to you. “You fudgin’ joking? Wait, come on now-“ he stuttered through his words as a blush formed on his face. “Boot, do you want me to help you or not?” you crossed your arms, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, you can trust me.”

He had never had someone besides the technician who affixed his broken body to metal even look down there. He hesitated but given just how important this was to him, he sighed and dropped his trousers after undoing his belt. His cock was…to say the least…impressive. It even bobbed and twitched in a way similar to that of a person made of flesh and bone. Upon seeing it through the eyes of a machinist however, you started to notice just how intricately crafted it was.

“Aeons, just what exactly were they thinking with detail like this?” you asked with a small giggle before taking his appendage in your hand and detaching it from his body. “I’m not a love machine, if that’s what you’re insinuating sweetheart.” He explained almost immediately, as if it’s something that needed defending. He shuffled back into his pants, “This iron body of mine was made for combat, and revenge.” You shrugged playfully and raised an eyebrow, “So you didn’t ask them for this cock then?” you joked, holding it in your hand and testing its weight. “Alright, alright just…see what you can do?” He huffed and pulled his hat down over his eyes in embarrassment.

You began disassembling the object, looking for any visible damage. “You keeping it clean and oiled?” you ask and he just sighs, “This is so embarrassing but yes. I perform regular maintenance on myself weekly.”

“Only weekly?” you teased and he rolled his eyes, “Okay okay, I’ll stop.” you reassembled everything and took the device over to your computer, plugging a wire into the hidden port you found

“Let’s see what…oh wow!” you yelped as you examined the device’s programming. “What an interesting piece of tech!” you said with a smile. Now you were the one blushing. “What?” he said and came over to examine the code with you, only seeing an unfamiliar mess of text. “Is it broken?!”

You input a commend into the terminal and the appendage began thrusting on its own. “Quite the opposite actually, did you know it had this many modes?” You typed away and the device now vibrated so violently it rolled off of the desk and onto the floor. “I should’ve guessed what extreme vibration meant.” you picked it up and held it with both hands.

For some reason, seeing you holding it like you were about to jerk it off made him stare. “No I didn’t, but that’s not the issue I’m having. I’m having trouble really feeling, if you catch my drift?” he said and looked away again while coughing awkwardly.

“You mean having an orgasm?” You placed the metallic phallus on the desk with a loud thud. “I can check if you have any software updates, and maybe come up with something of my own.” you turned to him, “If you don’t mind leaving it here with me to tinker with it.” you said with a playful smirk. That was all he needed to hear as he turned to head out, “I’ve never been without it for long so, just be gentle okay?” he said as he headed out. You immediately turned towards him, “Hey! Just what do you think I’m gonna do with it?!”

************

You had stayed up late the past couple of nights, modding the mechanical cock. If your professor had told you all those years ago in university that you’d be working on an interstellar cowboy’s robotic dick, you probably would’ve screamed. But here you were, losing sleep to help a client yet again. You had reviewed so many lines of code that you were even seeing it whenever you closed your eyes.

“Warming mode?” you whispered to yourself and looked over at the cock half expecting it to shoot off into the ceiling, but nothing happened. You reached out and grabbed it, feeling a light warmth to it. “Oh!” you said out loud as you held it with both hands, the warm appendage oddly soothing in your grip. You rubbed the smooth artificial skin, gunmetal gray in color and detailed with thick veins. The smoothness of it was thanks to the layer of silicone skin that felt so much like the real thing it almost scared you. Not to heavy, but not too light either, almost the perfect weight and girth. A devious fleeting thought flashed in your mind, of how it could possibly feel inside of you.

You shook the thoughts from your head immediately and put it down, finally turning off your computer and heading to bed to get the rest you so desperately needed.

************

Boothill arrived a few days later in much better spirits. “Well? How’s my pecker?” he said loudly with his arms out as he walked over to you. You shook your head and grabbed a tool to reattach it to him. “This thing’s a monster.” you said tiredly and helped him with his pants once the device was back on his body. You observed how he adjusted himself in his pants, he was no different from someone with an actual dick in that regard either. Another one of those debaucherous thoughts came to your mind as you looked him up an down. Thats when you realized just how fucking attractive he was.

“Anyway, I adjusted some things so you don’t accidentally kill anyone.” You explained the various functions and modes, telling him the restrictions you put on certain settings so no one would get seriously hurt while fucking him. “Yeah I’d hate to burn someone’s uh, insides.”

“I also wanna see if I can get your beacon working again.” You handed him a wire and he connected it to a port on his neck. You started the download and waited for the hack to work. You looked at the cowboy who was currently smiling at you.

“I can’t thank you enough doc- uh Y/n.,” You smiled back and waved him off, “It was nothing, I’m happy to help.” you started re-organizing your tools as his software updated. “Bet you’re just dying to see if it worked, I don’t mind testing it out right now.” he suggested and took his hat off, placing it on your desk gently. Of course you’d want to know if your tinkering actually worked, but you knew the only way to test it was for him to…well…pleasure himself.

“Sure, you can use the bathroom and test it out. Let me know how it felt, in detail.” you said as a slight heat crept up your body. He looked in the direction of the bathroom, a smile spreading on his lips. “Actually, I was hoping you’d want to test it out, with me?”

His words shot straight to your core, your stomach jumping with sudden anticipation. Your cheeks went flush and you hoped you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be a little uh, inappropriate?” you put down your tools and turned to look at him. You inched closer and closer, knowing you weren’t about to pass up the offer. After all, it was your duty as a scientist wasn’t it?

He chuckled and started moving closer as well, “What’s so inappropriate about making sure your hard work pays off?” He was but a breath away and reached out to grab your hand and you let him intertwine his fingers with yours, his robotic hand surprisingly gentle. “In all honesty, I thought about it while I was working on…it.” He moaned out loudly, “That’s so fucking hot.” he said, stopping when he realized he finally cursed properly.

“Looks like your beacon is fixed,” you pulled the wire from his neck gently, “Don’t go getting hacked again.” you teased and his hands came to rest on your waist. “You’ll fix me though? Won’t ya?” he leaned in, closing the small gap between you two. You moved to wrap your arms around his neck and mumbled a soft “Yes.” into the kiss as he lifted you up.

He walked the both of you to the workbench that was high enough so that you were perfectly fitted in his embrace. His strong yet gentle hands trailed up your back and under your shirt, his mouth hot on yours as the two of you shared an intense kiss.

You allowed him to pull your shirt off of you, briefly interrupting the kiss. “You’ve got such great control of your mobility module.” you said in praise and he moved in to kiss at the exposed flesh now available to him. His tongue licked a trail along your collar bones to your neck, “Can you, taste? “ He chuckled against your skin as he sucked, parting your legs before pulling away. “Sure can.” he whispered gruffly in your ear before bending down and slotting between your legs.

You hesitated a bit when you saw his sharp teeth, worried about your sensitive skin down there. But as soon as he buried himself into your cunt you threw your head back, letting the pleasure take over and the worries fade.

He moaned, the highly sensitive sensors on his tongue allowing him to fully enjoy your taste. You tugged at his hair, moving it out of his face to get a better look at him. He met your gaze and pulled away, his elongated tongue shrinking down to its regular size impressively.

“And you say you’re not a love machine,” you teased and wrapped your legs around his neck. You wiped at the corner of his mouth and he opened it to suck on your thumb, “Mmh, I can be your love machine,” he said before moving back to work his tongue along your folds. You watched it extend in real time as he dove in deeper inside of you, spreading your legs widers to get his artificial tongue as deep as he could. You felt him so deep inside, an unfamiliar but delicious feeling, making you let out a loud whimper at the intensity of it all.

He snaked his arms around your thighs, pulling you even closer while he pulled up on the skin above your pussy. “Ahh!,” you moaned out and dug your nails into his scalp desperately. The cowboy groaned deeply, lapping up what poured out of you and soon introducing his fingers to fuck you while his mouth sucked hard at your clit.

You could feel yourself coming undone as his nimble fingers curved to find your spot, fingering you hard. You soon cried out as you climaxed, writhing under his touch and clenching down on his fingers as he stood to face you.

You immediately pulled him into a kiss, pulling your bra down to finally expose your breasts to him. His hands came to squeeze the soft flesh and he pulled away, staring at them lovingly as he chuckled. “What’s so funny?” you asked looking at him while you held onto the backs of his mechanical hands as he squeezed. “I’ve just…been wanting to do this for a very, very long time.”

He pulled himself from his pants and began sliding his thick metallic shaft against your wet folds. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are? I can’t believe it.” You patted yourself on the back mentally for your ingenuity. You moved to take him by the back of his head for another feverish kiss. He held you close, his metal abs and chest surprisingly warm against your skin. The two of you pulled away from each other with a huff after making out for a few minutes.

“You’re a fucking genius.” he praised and held your face in his hands, your face heating up at the compliment. “Thank you,” you breathed deeply and looked down at his cock that was still teasing you, desperately wanting him inside of you. “I’d love to see what else I’ve improved upon,” you said as you laid back down, opening your legs wide for him. Your hands went to your folds where you collected your slick and moved to tease your bud, “And if you’re any better than something I can manufacture on my own.”

You saw a glint in his eyes as he smiled wickedly. He took your hand from your cunt and along with your other hand, he pinned them over your head. He grunted as he finally entered you, his long hair cascading down on either side of his face as he moved in closer to kiss you.

Those thick eight inches of his robotic cock finally plunged into you, deep. You whined, the sensation feeling so familiar to the “real” thing but so much better. He growled and nipped at your bottom lip, all the while pushing in and out of you slowly.

“You curious about the modes? Or do you just want me at default?” he asked as he let go of your hands. “Surprise me.” You pulled him back to your lips and he kissed you roughly before leaning back up and pulling you towards the edge of the bench.

You watched as he lolled his head back, his body fully reacting to being inside of you. “This what I’ve been missing?” he asked rhetorically, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “How is it?” you asked, wanting to know if your improvements worked. “Amazing, It’s so warm and tight darlin’.” he hissed as he moved his hands to grab your ankles.

“I mean- ahh!” you were cut off by a particularly hard thrust, “What are you feeling?” you asked and kissed him briefly before letting him speak again. “It feels like every one of my sensors is activating at once, an overall good feeling? I don’t really know how to-” You cut him off to kiss him again, running your tongue over his sharp teeth before pulling away. “That’s okay, it seems like the program is working, fuck!” you exclaimed as his dick brushed over that oh so sweet and toe curling spot inside of you. You looked at him with pleading eyes, “You’re fucking me so good Boothill.”

Lost in the moment and moaning against his lips, you suddenly felt his cock getting warmer inside of you. The sensation filling you with new feelings of pleasure you’d never felt before. “Risky but, fuck that feels so good.” Your words caught in your throat as he thrust into you harder. “Got somethin else for ya.” He practically growled as his cock started to vibrate inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” his pistoning inside of you sped up as you came hard, clenching down on him and causing him to moan out loudly. The cry that fell from his lips was desperate, “Fuck how did you-?!” he couldn’t stop himself as he fucked into you faster and harder, “Get tighter?!” the vibrations along with the almost brutal pounding he was giving you brought you over the edge again and this time your juices squirted all over him.

He slowed down and pulled out of you, your essence slick on his shaft and spilling out of you onto the bench. You whimpered as he pumped his fingers into you, your cunt still extremely sensitive. “And you think what I’ve got between my legs is dangerous.” He said with a smile before bringing you to stand on your wobbly legs, re-entering you from behind and meeting your lips as you turned to look back at him.

Boothill gained that sane speed from before within seconds, his cock at default as he chased whatever high he could find. “You doin ok doll?” His voice seemed so sweet and gentle against the lewd and messy sounds of his harsh backshots into you. He then pulled you further onto him by grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Yessshmmmmmuhh, its- hmmssofuckiggood.” You babbled gibberish as your response to him, just scratching at the the cold slab below you. He fucked into you faster and faster, your pussy clenching down on him as you lost yourself in the full body euphoria that overtook you.

Boothill chuckled darkly and pumped into you harder, moaning as his peak neared with every thrust. He let out an almost howl, feeling your tightness around him bringing him over into a sweet, delicious bliss that he could really feel for the first time. “Fuuuck!” he sighed and stuttered against you, leaning over and biting down your neck gently as he “came”.

“Your hard work payed off gorgeous, that was incredible.” He praised as he slowly leaned back and pulled out of you. You turned to him seeing his very satisfied and flushed face, “Incredible is an understatement,” you sighed and reached down to grab your pants, “That was, fucking otherworldly.”

You were about to put your pants back on but he stopped you. “What the hell you doin’ darlin? I’ve only fucked one hole so far,” he looked at you with intense eyes as he moved in closer. “For fuck’s sake Boothill, you’re gonna ruin me for other people!” He smiled that signature pointy smile of his and gave you a kiss on the cheek.“Thats the point.” His voice was alot lower than it usually was, a sultry and sensual tone laced within it.

“Now, on your knees.” You obliged quickly, finally taking off your bra so that you were completely bare before him. You took his cock in your mouth eagerly, looking up at him through your lashes as you took him in fully. You were proud of your work, there was truly no technician out more brilliant and luckier than you in this moment.

Now, if only you could manufacture and program a way to have him ejaculate inside of you…

A/N: i think i blacked out writing this………hes sooooooo…..i will never be normal about him thank you so much hoyo for this rootin tootin hottie 🥴 GODDDDD SAVE A HORSEEEEE!!! 🤧 i also think itd be cute to have other scenarios with him like….him learning how to love someone again and- 😭 idk i just want some angssst and like, a life with him?!?!

[reasonsforhope]

Since the 1960s, the world has seen a spike in the number of natural disasters, largely due to rising sea levels and an ever gradually increasing global surface temperature.

The good news? We’re getting better at helping each other when disasters strike.

According to a recent study from Our World In Data, the global toll from natural disasters has dramatically dropped in the last century.

“Low-frequency, high-impact events such as earthquakes and tsunamis are not preventable, but such high losses of human life are,” wrote lead authors Hannah Ritchie and Pablo Rosado.

To conduct their research, Ritchie and Rosado gathered data from all geophysical, meteorological, and climate-related disasters since 1900. That includes earthquakes, volcanic activity, landslides, drought, wildfires, severe storms, and mass floods. 

In the early-to-mid 20th century, the average annual death toll from disasters was very high, often climbing to over a million. 

For example, the study cites that in 1931, 2.7 million people died from the Yangtze–Huai River floods. In 1943, 1.9 million died from the Bangladeshi famine of 1943. Even low-frequency events had extreme death tolls. 

“In recent decades we have seen a substantial decline in deaths,” Ritchie and Rosado observed. “Even in peak years with high-impact events, the death toll has not exceeded 500,000 since the mid-1960s.”

Why has the global death toll from disasters dropped? 

There are a number of factors at play in the improvement of disaster aid, but the leading component is that human beings are getting better at predicting and preparing for natural disasters. 

“We know from historical data that the world has seen a significant reduction in disaster deaths through earlier prediction, more resilient infrastructure, emergency preparedness, and response systems,” Ritchie and Rosado explained in their study. 

On April 6, [2024],a 7.2 magnitude earthquake rocked the city of Hualien in Taiwan. Days later, as search and rescue continues, the death toll currently rests at 16. 

Experts have praised Taiwan for their speedy response and recovery, and attributed the low death toll to the measures that Taiwan implemented after an earthquake of similar strength hit the city 25 years earlier. Sadly, on that day in 1999, 2,400 people died and 11,000 were injured. 

In an interview with Al Jazeera, Wang Yu — assistant professor at National Taiwan University — said that event, known as the Chi-Chi earthquake, revolutionized the way Taiwan approached natural disasters. 

“There were lots of lessons we learned, including the improvement of building codes, understanding earthquake warning signs, the development and implementation of earthquake early warning (EEW) systems and earthquake education,” said Wang. 

Those same sensors and monitoring systems allowed authorities to create “shakemaps” during Hualien’s latest earthquake, which helped them direct rescue teams to the regions that were hit the hardest. 

This, in conjunction with stronger building codes, regular earthquake drills, and public education campaigns, played a huge role in reducing the number of deaths from the event. 

And Taiwan’s safeguards on April 6 are just one example of recent measures against disasters. Similar models in strengthening prediction, preparedness, and recovery time have been employed around the world when it comes to rescuing victims of floods, wildfires, tornados, and so on. 

What else can we learn from this study?

When concluding the findings from their study, Ritchie and Rosado emphasized the importance of increasing safety measures for everyone.

Currently, there is still a divide between populations with high gross national income and populations living in extreme poverty.

Even low-income countries that infrequently have natural disasters have a much higher death rate  because they are vulnerable to collapse, displacement, and disrepair. 

“Those at low incomes are often the most vulnerable to disaster events; improving living standards, infrastructure, and response systems in these regions will be key to preventing deaths from natural disasters in the coming decades,” surmised Ritchie and Rosado.

“Overall development, poverty alleviation, and knowledge-sharing of how to increase resilience to natural disasters will therefore be key to reducing the toll of disasters in the decades to come."

-via GoodGoodGood, April 11, 2024

[mariacallous]

It feels like no one should have to say this, and yet we are in a situation where it needs to be said, very loudly and clearly, before it’s too late to do anything about it: The United States is not a startup. If you run it like one, it will break.

The onslaught of news about Elon Musk’s takeover of the federal government’s core institutions is altogether too much—in volume, in magnitude, in the sheer chaotic absurdity of a 19-year-old who goes by “Big Balls” helping the world’s richest man consolidate power. There’s an easy way to process it, though.

Donald Trump may be the president of the United States, but Musk has made himself its CEO.

This is bad on its face. Musk was not elected to any office, has billions of dollars of government contracts, and has radicalized others and himself by elevating conspiratorial X accounts with handles like @redpillsigma420. His allies control the US government’s human resources and information technology departments, and he has deployed a strike force of eager former interns to poke and prod at the data and code bases that are effectively the gears of democracy. None of this should be happening.

It is, though. And while this takeover is unprecedented for the government, it’s standard operating procedure for Musk. It maps almost too neatly to his acquisition of Twitter in 2022: Get rid of most of the workforce. Install loyalists. Rip up safeguards. Remake in your own image.

This is the way of the startup. You’re scrappy, you’re unconventional, you’re iterating. This is the world that Musk’s lieutenants come from, and the one they are imposing on the Office of Personnel Management and the General Services Administration.

What do they want? A lot.

There’s AI, of course. They all want AI. They want it especially at the GSA, where a Tesla engineer runs a key government IT department and thinks AI coding agents are just what bureaucracy needs. Never mind that large language models can be effective but are inherently, definitionally unreliable, or that AI agents—essentially chatbots that can perform certain tasks for you—are especially unproven. Never mind that AI works not just by outputting information but by ingesting it, turning whatever enters its maw into training data for the next frontier model. Never mind that, wouldn’t you know it, Elon Musk happens to own an AI company himself. Go figure.

Speaking of data: They want that, too. DOGE agents are installed at or have visited the Treasury Department, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the Small Business Administration, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the Department of Education, the Department of Health and Human Services, the Department of Labor. Probably more. They’ve demanded data, sensitive data, payments data, and in many cases they’ve gotten it—the pursuit of data as an end unto itself but also data that could easily be used as a competitive edge, as a weapon, if you care to wield it.

And savings. They want savings. Specifically they want to subject the federal government to zero-based budgeting, a popular financial planning method in Silicon Valley in which every expenditure needs to be justified from scratch. One way to do that is to offer legally dubious buyouts to almost all federal employees, who collectively make up a low-single-digit percentage of the budget. Another, apparently, is to dismantle USAID just because you can. (If you’re wondering how that’s legal, many, many experts will tell you that it’s not.) The fact that the spending to support these people and programs has been both justified and mandated by Congress is treated as inconvenience, or maybe not even that.

Those are just the goals we know about. They have, by now, so many tentacles in so many agencies that anything is possible. The only certainty is that it’s happening in secret.

Musk’s fans, and many of Trump’s, have cheered all of this. Surely billionaires must know what they’re doing; they’re billionaires, after all. Fresh-faced engineer whiz kids are just what this country needs, not the stodgy, analog thinking of the past. It’s time to nextify the Constitution. Sure, why not, give Big Balls a memecoin while you’re at it.

The thing about most software startups, though, is that they fail. They take big risks and they don’t pay off and they leave the carcass of that failure behind and start cranking out a new pitch deck. This is the process that DOGE is imposing on the United States.

No one would argue that federal bureaucracy is perfect, or especially efficient. Of course it can be improved. Of course it should be. But there is a reason that change comes slowly, methodically, through processes that involve elected officials and civil servants and care and consideration. The stakes are too high, and the cost of failure is total and irrevocable.

Musk will reinvent the US government in the way that the hyperloop reinvented trains, that the Boring company reinvented subways, that Juicero reinvented squeezing. Which is to say he will reinvent nothing at all, fix no problems, offer no solutions beyond those that further consolidate his own power and wealth. He will strip democracy down to the studs and rebuild it in the fractious image of his own companies. He will move fast. He will break things.

[trans-axolotl]

"Just as 'most prisoners walk into prison because they know they will be dragged or beaten into prison if they do not walk,' we can say that most of the psychiatrically committed walk into hospitals because they know they will be restrained or dragged in if they don't walk. Often, this power has not required the psychiatrist to know the exact source of the ailment they treat nor exactly how their methods act upon the mind; what matters is that the machine is running. A whole system, a tightly interwoven mesh of relays and discourses is in place to transform the psychiatrist's judgment into effective action: a working theory and classificatory system to organize the clientele and separate them from other objects of care or punishment (taxonomy or nosology); institutional spaces (the asylum is historically the most pervasive, but also clinics, group homes, psychiatric wards, etc.); judicial codes defining the status of the mad (generally analogized to animals or children); prescribed roles for legal actors (police, judges, forensic experts); a chain of bureaucrats to sort out matters of insurance, finance, and property in cases of institutionalization or guardianship; and approved mechanisms or surveillance and reporting to translate individual complaints into the state's administrative codes. There are as many points of contact as there are spaces of encounter and discourses of legitimation in the social world. One or more of these elements can be revolutionized without fundamentally changing the connection between the parts. For example, at various points throughout its existence, as we've already seen, a theory of 'social causation' prevailed over a biological one without changing the matrix that defines modern psychiatry, and the same can be said for some of the legal alterations to the patient's status throughout the twentieth century.

There is no psychiatrist-patient encounter set apart from a broader circuit of relations: patient-apartment-work-family-cop-partner-school-neighbor-psychologist-state-guardian-probate-judge-psychiatrist-hospital. And to be clear: our biology itself is shared and leaks throughout this chain at every step. Our bodies are permeable, open, they leak, bleed, consume, excrete; our bodies flow out into a common world, and are open to outside influence, as the COVID-19 pandemic has made so excruciatingly clear. A patient of the Utica Asylum put it beautifully in The Opal in 1852: 'Like fermentation in the chemical world, [humanity's] atomic adhesions are in constant enlargement and in silent operation, seeking out relations, and forming relations of unsurpassed beauty and comfort, because in conformity with nature and adapted to its condition, means and end.' Attempts to neutralize this network by relegating every actor and space in the chain external to the domain of the psychiatrist onto the order of natural history ('we're just responding to the demands of the family...' or 'that's a matter for the police...I just deal with the patient once they arrive here') expose this posture as a naively religious one. In denial of the profane world and its complications extrinsic to the holy circuitry of neural or endocrine highways of the One in isolation, they declare a monastic fealty to an object of study over and above the matrix that makes its study possible or their conclusions efficacious in any real encounter...

...If psychiatry still takes refuge in the desert of scientism--speaking in tongues of prolix jargon--it's because a paradise of healing did materialize, but not as a Promethean forge of liberated humans, nor even as solemn resting place of broken souls, but sank so low as to appear as nothing more than a mundane prison. Burdened by the unbearable weight of their failure, the next generation abandoned their project and ran away to the labs, relinquishing responsibility for the armies of the living dead. At least they hung a sign at the door of the asylum on their way out. It read: 'abandon every hope, who enter here.'"

-Storming Bedlam: Madness, Utopia, and Revolt by Sasha Warren, pg 32-34

[csuitebitches]

Book Review- The Wealth Elite: A Groundbreaking Study of the Psychology of the Super Rich, by Rainer Zitelmann Notes

I came across this book because I was looking for psychology books. I found the first of the book rather boring and too textbook-y. The second part is much better.

The author interviewed like 45 millionaire - billionaires. These were his findings.

—

48% stated that real estate was an ‘important’ source of their wealth, and one in ten described real estate as the ‘most important’ aspect of their personal wealth-building. And a total of 20% described stock market gains as an ‘important’ factor in wealth-building, although in this case only 2.4% stated that this was the ‘most important’ factor in building their wealth.

‘Creative intelligence’ is key to financial success. The following is a comparison between the percentage of entrepreneurs (and in brackets the percentage of attorneys) who agreed that the following factors played a decisive role in their financial success: seeing opportunities others do not see: 42 (19); finding a profitable niche: 35 (14).

The role of habitus

* Intimate knowledge of required codes of dress and etiquette

* Broad-based general education

* An entrepreneurial attitude, including an optimistic outlook on life

* Supreme self-assurance in appearance and manner.

He identifies a key quality that is essential for any prospective appointee to the executive board or senior management of a major company: habitual similarities to those who already occupy such positions.

Skillset of Entrepreneurs

* The ‘conqueror’. The entrepreneur has to have the ability to make plans and a strong will to carry them out.

* The ‘organizer’. The entrepreneur has to have the ability to bring large numbers of people together into a happy, successful creative force.

* The ‘trader’. What Sombart describes as a ‘trader’, we would more likely call a talented salesperson today. The entrepreneur has to “confer with another, and, by making the best of your own case and demonstrating the weakness of his, get him to adopt what you propose. Negotiation is but an intellectual sparring match.”

Entrepreneurial success personality traits

* Commitment

* Creativity

* A high degree of extroversion

* Low levels of agreeableness

Entrepreneurial success personality traits

* Orientation towards action after suffering disappointments (the entrepreneur remains able to act, even after failure)

* Internal locus of control (the conviction “I hold my destiny in my own two hands”)

* Optimism (the expectation that the future holds positive things in store)

* Self-efficacy (the expectation that tasks can be performed successfully, even in difficult circumstances).

constant power struggles with their teachers in order to ascertain who would emerge the stronger from such confrontations.

Secret of selling

* Empathy

* Didactics

* Expert knowledge

* Networking.

Conscientiousness is the dominant personality trait. Extroversion is also very common among the interviewees. Openness to Experience is very common

A high tolerance to frustration is one of the most characteristic personality traits of this group.

exceptionally high levels of mental stability.

primarily characterize entrepreneurs as being prepared to swim against the current and make their decisions irrespective of majority opinion.

“No, I never did that (lost my temper). I never get loud. But I can be resolute and say: “That is unacceptable.” And then you either have to go your separate ways or make a decision that the other party might not like. It’s the same in negotiations. I was always described by other people as a bit of a toughie.”

Having the courage to stand against majority opinion is probably a prerequisite for making successful investments, as this is what makes it possible to buy cheap and sell high.

Many of the interviewees spoke about their ability to switch off and direct their focus, even in the event of major problems. The interviewees consistently referred to their ability to focus on solutions, rather than torturing themselves with problems.

At least in the initial phases of wealth creation, most of the interviewees rated their own risk profiles as very high. This changes during the stabilization phase, when risk profiles decrease. In this phase, the hypothesis of moderate risk does apply.

Conscientiousness was the interviewees’ most dominant personality trait. It is important to remember that the Big Five theory’s definition of conscientiousness does not just include qualities such as duty, precision, and thoroughness, but also emphasizes diligence, discipline, ambition, and stamina.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

I know we have the circular Gallifreyan language, but do we have any pinyin like examples of Gallifreyan words? Also what language is primarily spoken by the populous since there’s several different types of Gallifreyan

What Gallifreyan words do we know?

We don't have very many. The problem is that Gallifreyan languages were never really designed for easy translation because, subtextually, many Gallifreyan words are impossible for humans to pronounce.

Gallifreyan languages are also layered, poetic, and sometimes have magical subtext that will literally rewrite your DNA. But! We do have a few written examples of Gallifreyan words like pinyin – aka, they give us Earth-based phonetic clues:

Arkytior – rose (Old High)

D'Arvit – a curse word, unspecified (likely Modern Low)

Gallifrey – they that walk in shadows (probably Ancient)

Gjara'vont – of darkest thought

Karn – winter (Old High)

Meyopapa – master

Mi'en Kalarash – blue fire (possibly Old High, could be metaphorically or ironically named)

Osuda – Fate (Ancient or Old)

Swowana – possibly snow

Tegorak – black mountain

Toclafane – a catch-all for bogeymen

Which Gallifreyan language is actually spoken?

The quick answer is Modern High Gallifreyan.

However, Gallifreyans don't just have one language—they have an entire linguistic caste system. Here's the basic family tree (Ancient, Neo, Sollifreyan are all theoretical):

📜 Old Gallifreyan

Old Low – Rooted in Ancient Gallifreyan phonics, it's the 'default' old Gallifreyan for general ye olde Gallifreyan chit-chat, packed with lots of swear words and probably lots of words for farming. ⤷Modern use: Unlikely anyone speaks it. Being Low, it's the language of the lower classes, so therefore, it is of no interest to Gallifreyan academics. 

Old High – Rooted in Ancient Gallifreyan phonics but far more complex, it's a language for the developing scientists and aristocracy of Gallifrey. It's attached to the Dark Times, so it holds coded powers. It is used in grimoires. If conjugated wrong, it could blow up a small moon. There are 10,000,000 letters in its alphabet and a lot of them look quite Greek. ⤷Modern use: Gallifreyan language experts at the top of their game probably know a fair amount. It's on the Time Academy syllabus as one of the more difficult subjects.

💬 Modern Gallifreyan

Modern Low – Related heavily to Old Low Gallifreyan, this would have developed alongside Modern High as the language of the lower classes, retaining its swear words and slang forms that the upper classes despise. It has however moved on to accommodate more mathematical principles and Time-related language and has 1,000,000 characters. ⤷Modern use: None of the elite in the Capitol would be interested in this, however, it's likely members of the lower classes living in the lowtown or as outsiders will know this language and use it fairly often.

Modern High – AKA the familiar 'circular Gallifreyan' (although it's been written in other forms, too). An incredibly secure language that's difficult for non-speakers to decode, and even the TARDIS has problems translating it for other species, which is why companions never see the TARDIS monitor in their native language. Posh, polite and functional, it's the one seen most regularly. ⤷Modern use: Spoken as the 'default' language of the Capitol in pre and during Time War Gallifrey.

🏫 So ...

We don't have much, but a few phonetic words exist. We also know that the most commonly spoken language is Modern High Gallifreyan—especially in the Capitol—although one day I'll tell you about the rest.

Related:

💬|🗣️👽Can humans/non-Gallifreyans learn to speak Gallifreyan?: How possible it would be to see a human speaking Gallifreyan.

💬|🗣️🤬Do Time Lords have their own curse words?: Taking you through all the bad words/phrases of Gallifrey.

💬|🗣️✍️How do Time Lords write coordinates?: How coordinates get written and work in TARDISes.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features:⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[theboytatu]

2023 EXO WRAPPED

newton's 4th law states that for every "it's so over" there's an equally opposite "we are so back" so taking that into account i present to you the 2023 EXO WRAPPED so we can take a look at how truly insane EXO's career was this year

so we started out the year on a positive note. baekhyun was about to come back from the military - every other member was available, and the rumors of an EXO comeback were growing stronger. things were looking UP!

sadly - our first "it's so over" comes into play a mere month into the year, when news broke that lee sooman was being ousted from SM after a hostile board takeover resulted in him reaching out to hybe to get enough juice to fend off the witch hunt

no one knew what the fuck was going on - every idol in that company was sending out coded messages begging for help and all the scheduled comebacks got delayed, half assed or canceled. thankfully the succession plot got discarded quickly and hybe dropped out from the race, resulting in kakao investing in SM as major shareholder and lee sooman officially leaving the company.

after a few months of uncertainty EXO were finally reunited for their anniversary fanmeeting - we are so back!!! this was the first time the 8 members were together on stage since 2018 so of course everybody was losing their shit. and then we got confirmation that the comeback was finally happening.

this was it. it was happening. the FIRST full group comeback IN FIVE YEARS... we had confirmation, so they couldn't take it back - right? RIGHT??? except.... the weeks kept passing and as time went on we knew nothing else about the comeback. the members were radio silent and SM was still getting their shit together from the hostile takeover. both EXO and shinee's comebacks got delayed (among others) and no one knew what was supposed to happen. every day we got another news article about the EXO comeback but the EXO in question was nowhere to be seen - the full spectrum of the exol experience:

what happened next constitutes what experts have called the biggest "it's so fucking over" in recorded history so you better buckle up....

the comeback was first confirmed on social media by numerous music producers who were often seen working with EXO. SM was still radio silent but we KNEW the album was being made at the very least. expectations were building up and the members were seen practicing together in the SM building.... and then.

kai got notified that he had to enlist WITH ONE WEEK'S NOTICE.... the comeback wasn't even done shooting. kai was dying his hair a different color everyday to cram an album's worth of content in a couple of days. in hindsight this was truly our biggest L of the year

and then SM lied about how the military had suddenly changed the rules of enlistment so they didn't know kai had to go. AN ACTUAL MILITARY OFFICIAL had to go on the record to disprove this and it turns out SM had lied because they fucked up kai's paperwork and he couldn't defer any more. just your average SM fuck up

anyway. we'd facen worse right? an exo member enlisting has never been a problem to release a comeback - so after sending kai off to his bootcamp the rest of exo went right back to business. that album wasn't gonna record itself.....

and then on june 1st the second airplane hit the exo towers.

the amount of articles and updates we got every hour from different parties was insane. no one knew what the fuck was happening and SM was busy fighting this PR nightmare with a smear campaign against CBX and by association the rest of EXO

exoplanet was on fire but we had a silver lining: SM stock was plummeting to an all time low. it looked like EXO freedom was on the horizon, but in a classic EXO move the members had ghosted us. no one had heard from them except for legal statements from their lawyers - but hey at least SM was a dumpsterfire!

mind you the comeback hadn't even been announced.... at this point we assumed that was the least of their worries and then word got out that the members had been trying to film the MV in the middle of the lawsuit and SM hadn't allowed CBX entry to the set... which was later disproved but no one even questioned that cause it's literally something SM would do

and then in what constitutes the single most bizarre album rollout in kpop the comeback was officially announced - with two prerelease songs and three MVs! and three members in a legal battle! sounds very 2014 right? well exols didn't give a shit, and then we got our next we are sooo back. the hype was THERE

after a lot of 📈📉📈📉 the lawsuit against SM was settled and CBX decided to remain in the company for the sake of the group, and the songs they prereleased were actually good so it was safe to say exoplanet was on their WE ARE SOOOO BACK era.... but SM wouldn't let us have it so easy so of course this happened immediately after

they started cancelling albums and understocking distributors but nevertheless... WE PERSISTED. the album was finally released and once again EXO, true to their title of the cockroaches of kpop, managed to break several records despite SM sabotaging them left and right. they had ONE music show win and THREE streams but it didn't matter. EXO was back.

after their comeback promotions lasted a whopping SEVEN days and then dipped from the face of the earth exoplanet was finally looking back to normal

baekhyun drunk texted fans on bubble and held live spaces on twitter where he fell asleep and snored in front of 30 thousand people. kyungsoo dropped a mini album that had been recorded and ready to go for over a year and then rumors of someone leaving SM started circulating on korean foums again. exols were busy counting down the days to sehun finally hauling his ass to the military and every time EXO SC had a fanmeeting we were sure he was going to leave. and THEN....

surprising absolutely no one, kyungsoo didn't renew his contract with SM and left amicably in mid october. suho sent this bubble the same day the news came out btw

we were back in our it's so over era which at this point for EXO and exols it's closer to our we are so back era.... it's kinda hard to keep up but at least nothing else was gonna happen. it was already november, the end of the year was coming and no one expected anything else in exoplanet for at least 6 to 8 months. this is already longer than exo's career so i'll just wrap it up in a second part!!

[daresplaining]

hi, I've never gotten into comics or superheroes or anything of that kind. My bf loves dc and marvel stuff though, so I'd like to ask about daredevil!!

what should I know generally about what he does, stands for, his backstory, and how he'd interact with the average superhero/civillian.

Hi; what a cool question to receive! I'm thrilled you're looking to learn more about superheroes/comics and am happy to provide you with a little Daredevil primer.

A Little Daredevil Primer:

Art by Javier Rodriguez

Publisher: Marvel Comics

Origin Issue: Daredevil #1, published in 1964

Real Name: Matthew Michael Murdock

Civilian Occupation: Lawyer (usually)

Powers and Abilities: Matt possesses superhumanly-acute hearing, smell, taste, and touch, and a form of proximity sense that he refers to as his "radar sense". He is an expert martial artist (his primary weapon is a pair of batons/billy clubs, though he also excels at hand-to-hand combat) and a highly skilled and fearless acrobat.

Origin Story: Matt Murdock was born and raised in Hell's Kitchen, a Manhattan neighborhood that was, at the time, a largely low-income community and rife with organized crime. His mother left shortly after he was born and he was raised by his father, Jack Murdock, a struggling boxer past his prime. Jack was loving but strict, pressuring Matt to work hard in school so that he could find a well-paying job and build a better life for himself. Matt's bookworm tendencies led to bullying at school and in the neighborhood, against which he felt unable to defend himself; one other thing his father was strict about was that Matt never resort to violence. His bullies gave him the sarcastic nickname "Daredevil" in reference to his perceived meekness.

One day, when Matt was in his pre- or early teens (the official original age is fifteen, but it has varied somewhat over the years), Matt witnessed a man about to be hit by an out-of-control truck. He leapt into the street and pushed the man out of the way, but the truck swerved and lost some of its load: dangerous radioactive material, which struck Matt in the face, blinding him. As he adjusted to his new life without sight, Matt found that his other senses had become superhumanly powerful. Fortunately, he was soon contacted by a gruff, blind martial artist named Stick, who taught him to manage his senses and also trained him in extreme physical combat and acrobatics. Having always been an athletic and adventurous kid, despite his father's insistence that he avoid such things, Matt eagerly embraced the training. Eventually, he went off to college, where he studied to become a lawyer and met his future law partner and mild-mannered civilian best friend, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson.

Meanwhile, desperate for money to pay for Matt's education, Jack Murdock signed on with a notoriously corrupt and dangerous manager in an effort to keep his boxing career afloat. Shortly before Matt's graduation, Jack found himself booked for one of the most high-profile bouts of his career. But there was a catch: his manager insisted that he take a dive and throw the fight, or else. Jack refused to compromise his morals and integrity, and in a stunning upset, KO-ed his opponent. Afterward, as punishment, the manager and his cronies dragged Jack into a back alley and shot him. Freshly graduated from law school and with strong faith in the legal system, a grieving Matt tried to seek justice for his father's murder in court, but Jack's manager had the money and the connections to avoid prison. So Matt decided to take things into his own hands. He fashioned himself a costume to disguise his appearance and gave himself the code name "Daredevil", reclaiming his mean-spirited childhood nickname as a symbol that he was no longer going to back down from bullies, despite the promise he had made to his father to never use violence to solve his problems. Armed with his combat training and his hypersenses, he tracked down his father's murderer and brought him to justice.

Once he'd caught the costumed hero bug, it quickly became a permanent part of Matt's life, as vital to him, he says in an early issue, as air. And alongside becoming a highly successful attorney, he's been Daredevil ever since.

Concepts, themes, etc.: Daredevil is what's informally known as a "street-level hero". These characters tend (with some notable exceptions) to be either non-powered or, like Matt, to have powers that are somewhat subdued; Matt's hypersenses are extraordinary and he makes skilled use of them, but there's still a big difference in power-level between him and, say, Thor. Thus, street-level heroes tend to be less involved in universe-shaking conflicts and more focused on everyday people and their issues; poverty, corruption, organized crime, and lower-powered (but still very dangerous!) supervillains.

As a lawyer, Matt is very concerned with justice. He fights hard in court for his clients and believes in the justice system, but he is also strongly aware of its failings, and usually seeks (often not quite ethically...) to circumvent the system using his superheroing and powers. He has a strong moral code and is very confident in his convictions, sometimes to a degree that leads him to disregard other perspectives and advice, or to barrel into situations without properly thinking them through. Matt has always been a flawed person (a Marvel trademark in general, going all the way back to the game-changing introduction of the deeply flawed Peter Parker/Spider-Man). Over the years, Matt has been established as a highly competent hero who makes big mistakes, a deeply intelligent person who often lacks common sense, one of the bravest members of the hero community (his most common nickname is "The Man Without Fear") but also a thrill-seeker whose impulsiveness and stubbornness tend to get him, and his loved ones, hurt. Matt spirals into anger and depression when stressed, and one of his key coping mechanisms when things get really bad is faking his own death. Even at his best, he can tend to be somewhat prickly, self-centered, and jerk-ish. But he is also deeply caring, falls in love hard, frequently, and fast, and will unflinchingly put his life on the line for just about anyone. These deep flaws and contradictions are a huge part of his charm for many fans (myself included!).

Tonally, Daredevil (like many superhero comics that have been around for decades) has shifted back and forth between whimsical and dark, between swashbuckling and violent. He originally began as something of a Spider-Man clone: a wise-cracking hero swinging around New York City. Matt has maintained this swashbuckle, his thrill-seeking, his sheer enjoyment of hero-work, and his snarky personality; the Daredevil identity has always been a source of freedom and empowerment for him, something he does for both moral and self-indulgent reasons. But at the same time, darker stories have introduced an element of violence and brutality to him as he delves into the messy criminal underbelly of the city. He has experienced true horrors and tremendous losses, some of them at the hands of his most dangerous villains, some of his own making. Matt can be scary at his worst. He is also infamous for his body-strewn dating history; many of his ex-romantic partners have died due to their proximity to Matt and his enemies.

Another key element to Matt Murdock's character is, of course, his status as one of Marvel's most high-profile disabled characters. The respect and accuracy with which his blindness has been depicted over the years has varied, and to date, only one actual blind writer has ever worked on a Daredevil comic, but in his best stories his blindness strongly impacts his relationship to the world around him, his perception of himself and his identity, and the choices he makes as Daredevil. He exists at an interesting crossroads: he is blind, but he also has superhuman sensory powers. To maintain his secret identity, he pretends to be sighted (and non-powered) as Daredevil. In his civilian identity, he is able to acknowledge his blindness, make use of the assistive technology he needs, etc., but has to hide his powers. These layers of secret-keeping are a Matt Murdock trademark; he is almost always hiding some part of himself from the people around him.

Interactions with Other Heroes and Civilians: As I mentioned, Matt is a street-level hero, a boots-on-the-ground kind of guy. His chumminess with the average civilian varies between writers and stories, often depending on the overall tone, but in general, he tends to be a hero who civilians like and respect but don't have many close interactions with. He watches out for them, a lot of people will know someone who he has saved, if they haven't been saved by him themself, but he's also a somewhat elusive figure. (With that said, his secret identity has been made public several times. He's historically been very bad at keeping it under wraps.)

As far as other heroes go, Matt has a rich web of connections and friendships within the NYC superhero community. He is particularly close with Spider-Man, and they have teamed up a lot. He also had a long-term hero partnership/romantic relationship with Black Widow (for a while, the title of the comic changed to "Daredevil and the Black Widow" to reflect this), and they are still good friends. He was on one of the Avengers teams and is still a card-carrying reserve member. However, he prefers to operate on his own. He likes to be in control and not responsible for waiting for/consulting/looking out for other people, and his hypersenses mean that having other heroes nearby can often be distracting to him.

Daredevil is an extremely layered and fascinating character (though of course, I'm biased), and this is only a little primer. However, I like to think I've built up a pretty hefty database of Daredevil information on this blog, so I recommend looking around a bit to learn more. And of course, I am always happy to answer questions. For now, I hope this helps!

[mslovett]

in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

pomefiore + riddle & trey x reader

aka the little things they do to make you feel special

—————————————

vil schoenheit

if you’re dating vil, you already know that the way he cares for people is by making sure they’re at their best, even if that means critiquing them - you’re no exception. However, he does his best to make your life easier, especially in that regard. You’re going to a fancy, formal event, without any fragrance? Well, Vil already predicted this might happen, and picked out the perfect one for you in advance to give to you when he pointed it out. Your eyeliner’s smudged? Suppose he’ll just have to do it for you, and he might even give you a kiss to make you feel better after. If you’re ever ill or feeling low, he’ll also be the one making sure you get better as soon as possible. Even if you have just the slightest fever, he’s telling you to rest to recover quicker, and getting a wet towel for your head. If he’s able (and he will try his very best to be) he’ll spend the whole day by your side, it’s almost shocking how caring one person can be.

rook hunt

he remembers the little things. Has a mental list of all your favourites, some that you probably don’t know for yourself. Your favourite colour? Easy. Favourite food or number? No problem. He’d even observe which temperatures you’re most happy and productive in. He wants you to know he pays attention to these things too - and that he cares about them. Anytime you mention a piece of media you like, even if it’s some super obscure thing he’s never heard of, by the next day he’s already an expert and asking you all the questions he can think of to indulge your little heart.

epel felmier

He’s very much an acts of service/gift giving guy. Although he may not have been comfortable doing this before, fearing it was too “feminine” he feels comfortable enough around you to gift you handmade little items. (He would also totally help you fix/sew up any wear and tear in your clothes, I feel as though he’d actually be very good at sewing and the like) However, one thing he’d never been to shy to do was show you off - epel would make sure the whole school knows your dating, and can be a tad bit defensive and jealous if he finds anyone else hitting on you.

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riddle rosehearts

he’s a classic gentleman, does everything you’d expect from a love interest in a movie and more. He is literally that video analysing the special medieval knightly way that Travis Kelce held the car door open for and walked next to TS. (this one goes for silver and sebek too obvi) (is that too niche?…) Anyways, he uses his organisation skills to his advantage. Valentine’s Day, your birthday, any special days the two of you find important together are all tediously planned to every little detail. Heck, he’d be making sure the red of the roses he got you were the right hex code. Which is where his experience arranging events like unbirthday parties come in handy.

trey clover

Like rook, he’s very observant. He gives you the most targeted compliments, because he wants you to feel confident, especially around him. Aside from being observant, he’s also your rock in this world. If you have any kind of trouble, you can go to him - wether you just need to vent or you need advice (he’s very good at telling when you need what). And when you do get advice from him, you know you can trust it because he (secretly) listens to you like the gospel and makes you feel heard.

+ he would totally bake for and specialise recipes for you :)