#also see?

[sierra6x]

------@stingslikeabee gifted:

Valentine's Day was an odd one at the Killer Queen - one of the few occasions where Melissa closed up earlier, and not because she had any plans - but because her employees did. The barmaid wasn't keen on keeping people around when there was no need, so she let all the girls go home during the afternoon, as well as the other people who worked there.

Six lingered behind - as he often did; the empty bar was more of a home to him than a full house, and she didn't mind his silent company while she went through the motions. Melissa was about to turn off the kitchen lights when she saw something on the counter there: a bowl of strawberries, chocolate and a folded note from Charlie (who was working out stuff with his ex-wife) that read 'to my idiot boss and her favorite idiot'.

Melissa laughed then - if it had been anyone else, the woman would have likely ignored the tease, but her cook actually predated her management era. He was some sort of an older brotherly figure, who had been fond of Borys and stayed after she took over. He looked after the barmaid, and likely watched everything from behind the scenes - as much as the tipster tried to deny, she had favorites.

Or rather - a favorite.

Picking up both things, Melissa paused by the bar to grab a bottle of champagne, too - it had been there for ages, not a drink any of the patrons really asked for, but now she was doing the entire thing. The brunette returned to the main room and placed the celebratory items on the pool table, interrupting the solitary game Six was enjoying by himself and offering him a grin as explanation, motioning for him to get closer.

"We're both idiots according to Charlie - it's a gift from him. I suppose he's sad we're both lonely today when he's seeing his ex-wife," Melissa chuckled and made herself comfortable on the edge of the table, proceeding to pick one of the strawberries to dip into the chocolate and inviting Six to stand in-between her legs, offering the delicacy to him with a teasing grin, "Happy Valentine's Day, Six. You are my favorite idiot, you know - Charlie's right."

------HUMANS WERE SILLY little creatures of habit. it was easier to map something into the neurons by doing it repeatedly - a sense of comfort was established, stroked the mind in a way that sent ease into an otherwise shot system. six's system was pretty fucking fried. he'd heard the rumors that sierra agents usually burnt out and he could understand it. in some fashion he'd followed in their steps. turned his back on the program, on the cia, on the people that pointed their fingers and commanded someone die.

it was pretty nice to have bodily autonomy.

there were a lot of people all over the world he got information from. some he'd never met face-to-face ... always through dead drops or coded phone calls. sometimes he had short chats in public places where both parties wore sunglasses and did their best to forget any detail about the other (but secretly remembered everything just in case.) killer queen's was the only place that six kept coming back to. the only place where he struck a rapport with the fixer. the only place he had some shred of familiarity.

he'd liked borys well enough. the man was professional in his own sort of way and never grated against six's nerves. he was one of the people that stuck by when hands switched to melissa and struck some sort of chord there, too. enough that he came in his off-time, when he was stateside. not that he would ever admit those things.

too often he played pool by himself. sometimes another person balled-up and played him, but he was more than content with just games on his own. it was easier for him to keep track of what was going on around him. while regulars and visitors alike knew this was a sanctuary that didn't necessarily mean they abided those rules. occasionally six saw swift justice enacted against those that dare break them. once or twice he'd done it himself. but here he played a game alone on a table he'd moved to and fro more times than he wanted to admit. that meant he earned the right to play the fucking game alone.

he didn't even remember it was a holiday. (and when did a holiday count when it was literally bankrolled by a corporation??) it was just another tuesday night. here six sipped on ice cold water and knocked those little colored balls around while listening to people talk and schmooze, watching the girls bustle around like little bees and charlie whistle in the kitchen so loud that he heard it over the jukebox. sometimes when the song was loud enough people sang along to it like bad karaoke and six enjoyed those moments, privately, because he could just blend in without anyone remembering he was there.

but earlier than most nights the patrons slipped out. then the girls clocked out and scurried home. then charlie fucked off to wherever it was that old, nosy cooks went when they weren't occupying the kitchen. and six lingered, shooting pool while melissa closed things up. because he'd wordlessly walk her home every time he was around, just to be sure she was alright.

sierra six did not do those things willy nilly.

and when melissa wandered over with the champagne and strawberries in tow he already had an eye on her. the game she interrupted had been already paused, evident by how six leaned against the pool table with such a lax posture that deceived how attentive he actually was that it might be cause for balking. " champagne from him, too? "

one brow raised. amusement defined six's features in a subtle sort of way. he knew melissa would pick up on it.

" that's why i'm unmarried. " not the job. not the lack of social life. not the fact that he was owned by the government up until a few years ago. because of whatever song and dance charlie played with his ex wife. (buy that and he'll sell you another). without asking and without waiting to be told he set his pool cue down and reached for the champagne in question. turned out his various tactical skills applied well to popping corks, and the telltale THWUMP gave way to his success.

what would really make him an idiot was if he ignored her wordless invitation. well, mostly wordless. and for a moment he watched her posture, the expression on her face, the curve of her lips ... before he moved to where she'd intended.

he towered over her, even when she perched on the raised edge of the pool table. he didn't blink, either. just canted his head, leaned slightly forward (pushing into personal space well-beyond the definitions of comfortable friendship) and set the bottle down somewhere behind her. " yeah? " how many other idiots did she have? surely just the one.

the question hung for a moment before he bit at the strawberry, snatching it from melissa's fingers with his teeth and pulled back slightly ---not away, before claiming the berry with his own fingers. he bit into it proper, separated most of it from the green top, and chewed.

not once did he look away from her, either. direct eye contact throughout.

" you, too. " happy valentine's day. he reached for a berry on his own, skipped it entirely and opted to dip his middle finger in the chocolate instead, and offered it between he and melissa. in a dare.

even his grin emphasized it.

[werewolf-transgenderism]

just watched a video of a wildlife rehabber tube-feeding the teeny tiniest orphaned baby opossum and the comments are fucking KILLING me

baby opossum (too teeny, hasn’t finished cooking in the marsupial pouch like it ought to have done, doesn’t even look like it should exist):

the comments:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Knowledge Revenge.

[skipppppy]

This has to be an AU already right? I’ve never seen it. I’m doing it. My city now

The angst potential alone haunts me. How long do you think he waited for Ford?? When did it start to sink in that nobody was coming to save him, that nobody would miss him? Would anybody even want him back? How long did it take for his anger, his heartbreak, his grief to turn into acceptance and a belief that this was divine retribution? How long did he work, how many jobs did he take, how much wealth did he accrue, how many brushes with death did he have until he believed he’d “earned” the right to go home and see his brother?? Many such questions. I need to go deeper

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[bookwyrminspiration]

god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

[rivetgoth]

It's honestly crazy that discussion around testosterone HRT skews so much towards the beginning stages of it (to the point that you have dozens of guys thinking their transition is "failed" if they don't pass by like a year in lol) and what the initial changes of the first couple of months to years look like, like the classic laundry list of those early basic changes like bottom growth, voice drop, etc, when IMO literally none of that compares remotely to the depth and intensity of the long term total masculinization you start to experience like 3-5+ years in.

[bumblebeebats]

OP turned off reblogs so this is my post now. Behold, the "Objective quality vs. degree of ferality" scale

Here are a few of my own personal datapoints:

[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

*screams*

HAPPY FUCKING PRIDE

ASEXUAL AND AROMANTIC PEOPLE EXIST AND ARE PART OF THE COMMUNITY

NOW GO BE MENACES TO SOCIETY

[captainjonnitkessler]

>Join a union

>Hear people constantly complaining that the current union leadership is super corrupt, it's all just the same ten guys making all the decisions in secret and nobody else in the union ever gets to know what's going on

>Go to the monthly union meetings that are completely open to all 1200 union members

>The only attendees are the same ten guys every month, giving detailed reports about everything that's going on

[thunderon]

“long hair on guys doesn’t make them less masculine. think keanu reeves, jason momoa, danny trejo, or the guy at your local dive bar who rides a motorcycle”

*the crowd nods*

“so long hair doesn’t necessarily determine masculinity”

*the crowd, more hesitant, still nodding*

“butches can have long hair—“

*GUNSHOT*

[zytes]

this manatee looks like it’s in a skyrim loading screen

[mackerelllll]

from @/vero_muerte on tiktok, PLEASE look up the original video!!!

found this video at <2000 likes and i NEED more people to see this because. yeah.

[nbmudkip]

“how could you have forgotten that” i forget Everything. unless i remember

[atissi]

i don't really like when people say dungeon meshi is accidentally good autistic representation, because while i understand not wanting to make conclusions without explicit confirmation from the author, there's always the weird assumption that non-western authors somehow don't know about things like neurodivergency/queerness/etc. (on top of the assumptions that east asian authors are somehow more naive or oblivious to "western" social issues).

given that dungeon meshi started being published in 2014, it's not really a "work belonging to its times"—it's as contemporary as any other media we discuss on this site, which means it should be fair to assume it engages with contemporary topics (and at the very least, you shouldn't say that the representation is accidental with so much confidence)

but anyways, the chapter "perfect communication" in ryoko kui's "terrarium in a drawer" is some of the most straightforward autistic representation I've seen, and from now on I'm going to assume that laios's character writing is absolutely intentional in that regard:

[transformationofmatter]

please do look it up if you dont know the date bc there may be at least an approximate answer and otherwise the last option will completely dominate and this poll will be boring.

and dont be like 'but i cant sing'... just answer the earliest tune you know well enough that you COULD sing it

periods of western classical music provided only for reference