#and microsoft is being so damn difficult about it

[kn96artworks]

switched from libreoffice to wps because reasons

i'm a bit more used to wps layout (i have it on my phone) but now it won't stop messing up the text formatting when i copy paste text from somewhere else eg ao3 😢 i can only either paste them exactly as how they appear on the webpage or with formatting removed. tried the 'match current format' option and i still lost the formatting

why do microsoft gotta have to be such a bitch

[tangibletechnomancy]

The (Personal) Is (Political)

~7 hours, Dall-E 3 via Bing Image Creator, generated under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

Or, Dear Microsoft and OpenAI: Your Filters Can't Stop Me From Saying Things: An interactive exercise in why all art is political and game of Spot The Symbols

A rare piece I consider Fully Finished simply as a jpeg, though I may do something physical with it regardless. "Director commentary" below, but I strongly encourage you to go over this and analyze it yourself before clicking through, then see how much your reading aligns with my intent.

Elements I told the model to add and a brief (...or at least inexhaustive) overview of why:

Anime style and character figures - Frequently associated with commercial "low" art and consumer culture, in East Asia and the English-speaking world alike, albeit in different ways - justly or otherwise. There is frequently an element of racism to the denigration of anime styles in the west; nearly any American artist who has taken formal illustration classes can tell you a story of being told that anime style will only hinder them, that no one will hire them if they see anime, or even being graded more harshly and scrutinized for potential anime-esque elements if they like anime or imply that they may like anime - including just by being Asian and young. On the other hand, it is true that there is a commercial strategy of "slap an anime girl on it and it will sell". The passion fans feel for these characters is genuine - and it is very, very exploitable. In fact, this commercialization puts anime styles in particular in a very contentious position when it comes to AI discussions!

Dark-skinned boy with platinum and pink [and blue] hair - Racism and colorism! They're a thing, no matter how much the worst people in the world want you to think they're long over and "critical race theory" is the work of evil anti-American terrorists! I chose his appearance because I knew that unless I was incredibly lucky, I would have to fight with this model for multiple hours to get satisfactory results on this point in particular - and indeed I did. It was an interesting experience - what didn't surprise me was how much work it took me to get a skin color darker than medium-dark tan; what did surprise me was that the hair color was very difficult to get right. In anime art, for dark skin to be matched with light hair and eyes is common enough to be...pretty problematic. Bing Image Creator/Dall-E, on the other hand, swings completely in the opposite direction and struggles with the concept of giving dark-skinned characters any hair color OTHER than black, demanding pretty specific phrasing to get it right even 70% of the time. (I might cynically call this yet another illustration against the pervasive copy-paste myth...) There is also much to say about the hair texture and facial features - while I was pleased to see that more results than I expected gave me textured hair and/or box braids without me asking for it, those were still very much in the minority, and I never saw any deviation from the typical anime facial structures meant to illustrate Asian and white characters. Not even once!

Pink and blue color palette - Our subject is transgender. Bias self-check time: did you make that association as quickly as you would with a light-skinned character, or even Sylveon?

Long hair, cute clothes, lots of accessories - Styling while transmasc is a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't situation, doubly so if you're not white. In many locations, the medical establishment and mainstream attitude demands total conformity to the dominant culture's standard conventional masculinity, or else "revoking your man card" isn't just a joke meant to uphold the idea that men are "better" than women, but a very real threat. In many queer communities, especially online, transmascs are expected to always be cute femboys who love pink (while transfems are frequently degraded and seen as threats for being butch), and being Just Some Guy is viewed as inherently a sign of assimilationism at best and abusiveness at worst. It is an eternal tug-of-war where "cuteness" and ornamentation are both demanded and banned at the same time. Black and brown people are often hypermasculinized and denied the opportunity to even be "cute" in the first place, regardless of gender. Long hair and how gender is read into it is extremely culture-dependent; no matter what it means to you, if anything, the dominant culture wherever you are will read it as it likes.

Trophies and medals - For one, the trans sports Disk Horse has set feminism back by nearly 50 years; I'm barely a Real History-Remembering Adult and yet I clearly remember a time when the feminist claim about gender in sports was predominantly "hey, it's pretty fucked up that sports are segregated by sex rather than weight class or similar measures, especially when women's sports are usually paid much less and given weirdly oversexualized uniforms," but then a few loud living embodiments of turds in the punch bowl realized that might mean treating trans people fairly and now it's super common for self-proclaimed feminists - mostly white ones - to claim that the strongest woman will still never measure up to the weakest man and this is totally a feminist statement because they totally want to PROTECT women (with invasive medical screenings on girls as young as 12 to prove they're Really Women if they perform too well, of course). For two, Black and brown people are stereotyped as being innately more sporty, physically strong, and, again, Masculine(TM) than others, which frequently intersects with item 1...and if you think it only affects trans women, I am sorry my friend but it is so much worse and more extensive than you think.

Hearts - They mean many things. Love. Happiness. Cuteness. Social media engagement?

TikTok - A platform widely known and hated around these parts for its arcane and deeply regressive algorithm; I felt it deserved to be name/layout/logodropped for reasons that, if they're not clear already, should become so in the final paragraph.

Computers, cameras and cell phones - My initial specification was that one of the phones should be on Instagram and another on TikTok, which the model instead chose to interpret as putting a TikTok sticker on the laptop, but sure, okay. They're ubiquitous in the modern day, for better and for worse. For all the debate over whether phones and social media are Good For Us or Bad For Us, the fact of the matter is, they seem to be a net positive-to-neutral, whose impacts depend on the person - but they do still have major drawbacks. The internet is a platform for conspiracy theories and pseudoscience and dangerous hoaxes to spread farther than ever before. Social media culture leaves many people feeling like we're always being watched and every waking moment of our lives must be Perfect - and in some senses, we are always being watched these days. Digital privacy is eroding by the day, already being used to enforce all the most unjust laws on the books, which leads to-

Pigs - I wrote the prompt with the intention that it would just be a sticker on the laptop, but instead it chose to put them everywhere, and given that I wanted to make a somewhat stealthy statement about surveillance, especially of the marginalized...thanks for that, Dall-E! ;)

Alligators - A counter to the pigs; a short-lived antifascist symbol after...this.

Details I did not intend but love anyway:

The blue in the hair - I only prompted for platinum and pink in the hair, but the overall color palette description "bled" over here anyway, completing the trans flag, making it even more blatant, and thus even more effective as a bias self-check.

The Macbook - I only specified a laptop. Hilariously ironic, to me, that a service provided through Bing interpreted "laptop" as "Macbook" nearly every time. In my recent history, 22 out of 24 attempts show, specifically, a Macbook. Microsoft v. OpenAI divorce arc when? ;) But also, let us not forget Apple's role in the ever-worsening sanitization of the internet. A Macbook with a TikTok sticker (or, well, a Tiikok sticker - recognizable enough) - I can think of little more emblematic of one of the main things I was complaining about, and it was a happy accident. Or perhaps an unhappy one, considering what it may imply about Apple's grip on culture and communications.

Which brings me to my process:

Generated over ~7 hours with Dall-E 3 through Bing Image Creator - The most powerful free tool out there for txt2img these days, as well as a nightmare of filters and what may be the most disgustingly, cloyingly impersonal toxic positivity I've ever witnessed from a tool. It wants to be Art(TM), yet it wants to ban Politics(TM); two things which are very much incompatible - and so, I wanted to make A Controversial Statement using only the most unflaggable, innocuous elements imaginable, no matter how long it took.

All art is political. All life is political. All our "defaults" are cultural, and therefore political. Anything whatsoever can be a symbol.

If you want all art to be a substance-free "look at the pretty picture :)" - it doesn't matter how much you filter, buddy, you've got a big storm coming.

[foretnoires]

nishikimi drabble | i miss you [TG week: Day 3]

warning: lowercase

note: english is not my first language, i’m trying my best, enjoy 🤗

p/s: at first i was supposed to write another ship drabble but it ended up being nishikimi once i came up with this plot 🦆 for day 3 of @weektg the theme was angst which i included “melancholy” and “lost” in this fanfiction, yet i couldn’t bear making the characters suffer until the end, i just can’t 💀

❝ every time, everywhere ❞

7 am.

stepping out of the messy house, but his heart was restless. nishiki wondered if he forgot something important. ah, he just remembered, kimi nishino still hadn't given him a kiss and wished him a good day at work. he knew that, but how could he receive those two spiritual gifts when kimi was no longer here. they just broke up yesterday.

nishiki dazedly walked slowly to the company. his miserable life would be even more miserable from now on. stopping in front of a traffic light, watching the rush of people pass by, nishiki clenched his fists.

"without kimi nishino, this nishiki nishio will still be fine."

12 pm.

everyone in the company went to the canteen and he remained in the big room. it was just yesterday that nishiki was still enjoying the boxed lunch she woke up early to prepare. and because of that habit, he didn't bring any money to the canteen to buy food. he had to endure hunger until evening. kimi nishino had spoiled him too much already. and the idea that without kimi, nishiki would be still alive and well was quickly extinguished. he was beginning to regret agreeing to let go when she suddenly asked to break up last night.

5 pm.

on the desk were a bunch of files that the damn boss just passed by and gave them to nishiki, then went back to his office to sleep. but nishiki’s computer screen was just the blank white interface of microsoft word. there was nothing he could do since yesterday. even going to sleep was too difficult for him. he suddenly remembered last night, when they broke up, kimi said that she dared him to live on. kimi was a great prophet.

"hey kimi nishino, go back to being nishiki's seer."

he had a monologue like that while going crazy over the files.

7 pm.

sitting at the dining table, but he didn't move, didn't touch the food. nishiki was quite surprised that he could cook a meal by himself without her. so from now on nishiki nishio could live on his own. but it must have been a boring life.

he didn’t have time to cook a lot of food and then sit back and watch it. he just wondered if she had eaten by now. he remembered her whining because he boiled water and burnt his hands again. he always remembered the image of her frantically grabbing his hand, pulling him to the faucet and washing the burn.

"hey kimi nishino, i want to get burned again."

he poked his food with chopsticks and talked nonsense to himself. nishiki saw himself as a madman. hey, who wants to be a normal person when in love?

8 pm.

a couple about to break up in the movie and he burst out laughing. he didn’t understand why it made him so happy to see someone break up. maybe it was because they were about to be in the same situation he was in now: depressed, helpless, sad. nishiki tried to imagine that the male character stayed up all night and tried to contact the female character for the next few days. what a silly and idle guy. instead, he should reconsider how he lived and why he was asked to break up by the female character like nishiki was doing now. and nishiki admitted he's not doing well. look, that's true. his eyes were dark like the raccoon in the zoo kimi and he once visited. the male character went to the female character's house and waited for an hour. what's more funny was that the female character expected him to do the same. girls are really funny.

at this point, nishiki wondered if kimi resembled the female character. did she expect him to come to the front of her house and wait for her to go out? and did she expect him not to go home until she stepped out? he smiled faintly, kimi was not that type of girl.

9 pm.

he took out the computer from the briefcase that was thrown on the bed earlier and put it on the table, continuing his unfinished work. and if it wasn’t finished the next day, she could officially call him 'beggar nishiki' like she called him before. after typing the first few lines, he began to languish. it would be great if kimi nishino was here cheering him up.

nishiki jumped on the bed. he rolled back and forth, hit his head a few times to wake up and then tried to find a way out of this situation. or could he come to her house for an attempt?

10 pm.

standing in front of her house under the cold weather for a long time, but he didn't dare to ring the bell. he was trying to imagine the smug look on her face when they just broke up for a day and he came to her. or maybe she would happily hug him. taking a deep breath, he removed his hand from his pocket and rang the bell. in an instant, she appeared in front of him. her cheeks were red, she seemed to be very cold. kimi cried, stiffened. the jacket she was wearing was wet at the shoulders. nishiki vaguely guessed kimi had been crying all this while.

"did you just go out?" 

"no." 

"then why do you look so cold?" 

"been standing here for an hour." 

"why are you standing..." 

"same for the night before."

by this time, nishiki had understood, kimi nishino, like the female character, also wanted him to come to her house and wait. without saying much, he hugged kimi, stroking her hair.

"i'm sorry." 

"idiot, what are you apologizing for?" 

"i'm sorry for breaking up with you." 

"beggar nishiki." 

"it'll never happen again. i'm sure of that."

kimi suddenly smiled even though tears were still forming at the corners of her eyes. that night, kimi didn’t feel as cold as last night, because nishiki was here, by her side. something that made kimi sure, he would be with her forever.

"don't go anywhere. don't be in the mood for breaking up." 

"i know. i will stay by nishiki’s side all my life." 

"whether this nishiki becomes a beggar?" 

"you've been a beggar for a long time."

kimi laughed, she let go of him and ran away.

“kimi, get back here!”

“catch me if you can.”

nishiki chased after the girl, couldn't stop smiling. his kimi, would be his finally.

[hmsex2023-rorys3965039]

HMsEx Blog Entry 4

HMsEx Blog Entry 4

At the beginning of Week 4 I set up a plan using Microsoft office planner; I’ll use this to set short-term and long-term goals and check them off once complete.

I was quite happy with my pitch. I’ve never had a course with two lecturers before but I’ve been really enjoying the disagreements on some topics or experiences that Nik and Darrin comment on. The feedback I received was great, hearing Darrin’s opinion on the skateboarding psychology idea possibly being too informative or information driven. In that moment I totally understood, it was a risk I thought of beforehand as well. Then, Nik’s feedback telling me that using a narrative to drive the experience would be a good base for the information to sit on, and nicely maintain engagement. Very useful stuff that’s given me a lot to think about, thanks guys.

Research - Academic

Fear Extinction

A fundamental process within the realm of psychology and neuroscience that involves the gradual weakening and suppression of a conditioned fear response. This phenomenon occurs when an individual is repeatedly exposed to a previously fear-inducing stimulus in a safe and controlled environment, leading to a reduction in the fear response over time. The process of fear extinction is closely linked to the brain's ability to form new associations and rewire neural circuits, facilitating the gradual replacement of fear-related memories with more adaptive and less distressing ones. Understanding fear extinction has significant implications for treating anxiety disorders and trauma-related conditions, offering insights into therapeutic approaches aimed at diminishing irrational and debilitating fears.

What I’m concerned with is how one diminishes rational and reasonable fears; does it involve more than typical fear extinction?

Self – Affirmation Interventions

Positive Self-Affirmation Statements: Individuals create and repeat positive affirmations about themselves and their abilities to counteract negative self-perceptions.

Visual Reminders: Watching yourself do a trick on flat ground and thinking about the feeling of landing that trick is a method used for mentally preparing yourself to do that trick down something big/scary (Collins)

Self-Affirmation Exercises: Personal favourite, if I’m about to do a trick on some obstacle or terrain I’m not entirely comfortable with I’ll do it on flat ground as clean as I can, directly before my run up for the obstacle; this gives me an umph and a reassurance.

Social Affirmation Statements: Seeking and appreciating positive feedback and validation from friends, family, or mentors (Sherman & Cohen 2006). I can confirm that there have been a number of times where I’ve been greatly motivated by skater’s superior to me and have landed tricks that I otherwise wouldn’t have attempted. In Suzhou, where I started skateboarding, there was this one OG (mid 30s skater) who is the owner of a skateshop and skatepark. He always told me that he thinks I’m on the right track to getting sponsored, and as I know how skilful of a skater he is and can only imagine how good he was in his prime, I really valued his words. He always let me in his skatepark for free. When we’d go out together at night for a street session with other shop/park homies, his presence and instruction motivated me like nothing ever has before. He’d see some wack obstacle that the whole group would’ve just walked past and say “Yo, jump down that.” In a very chill manner. So, I’d get up sceptically and think like “damn I don’t know about this” but for him and the homies I had the confidence to at least give it a shot. Social affirmation statements, verbal or not, have lead me to do some of my best skating.

“The first couple techniques Collins mentioned are things that skateboarders already do, like working up from easy to progressively more difficult tricks, or getting positive affirmations from friends. Collins also agreed that taking a slam could be a good way to get over your nerves. “You might call it the Dr. Pepper argument. Like, what’s the worst that can happen?” he said, referring to a slogan Dr. Pepper uses in the UK.” ( NOTENS & COLE KOMMA)

What is a “Liminal Space”?

Streets are commonly regarded as “liminal spaces” as seen through edits on social media.

I didn’t truly understand the meaning of the word I’ve been using to describe places that give me this exhilaration. On social media the way “liminal spaces” in speak never explains what makes these spaces liminal or even what the word liminal means; we’ve just put a title on a place that gives us a feeling.

Both these definitions are relevant:

“1 occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold: I was in the liminal space between past and present | the paintings in this exhibition are the result of recent investigation into liminal states. 

2 relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process: that liminal period when a child is old enough to begin following basic rules but is still too young to do so consistently.”

(Oxford Dictionary of English).

The Street as a Liminal Space – (Hugh Matthews 2002)

Matthews observed that time spent on the streets was an important part of the day for much of youth is. The word street is broad, it can mean “out and about”, outside of the home or a friend’s home.

For many kids the street is the only place where they can meet informally; unlike adults who have clubs, pubs, residences, etc.

“As such, streets are places where adultist conventions and moralities about what it is to be a child that is, less-than-adult - can be put aside. They are spaces that are temporarily outside of adult society, particularly with the withdrawal of adults at particular times of the day (Sibley 1995), fluid domains or a thirdspace set between childhood and adulthood, where the process of separation can be played out (Matthews et al. 2000c). Within these interstitial spaces young people can express feelings of belonging and of being apart and celebrate a developing sense of selfhood. In essence, therefore, streets can be grouped among those places where the newness of hybrid identities, no longer a child not yet adult, may be articulated (Rose 1995).”

(Next paragraph not crucial but interesting potential way of understanding why some people may consider some spaces liminal where others wont)

“Yet here is a cultural dilemma, for whilst streets appear to offer freedom away from adult mores, occupancy of the public domain is rarely uncontested, particularly when young people come into contact with vigilant adults who are not prepared to relinquish their overarching control. In order to remain on the street, therefore, young people carve out their own cultural crevices, and create their own social fissures. Often these are places where adults are not commonly found: in this study children regularly congregated in back alleys, on derelict land, around lock-up garages, at the rear of shopping parades, in pockets of green space within neighbouring scrub woodland, in essence, within the forgotten and redundant spaces of the adult world.” (Mathews 2002)

Now if we refer back to Liminal’s oxford definitions earlier we see through Matthews’ reasoning that neighbourhood streets are inherently liminal.

Research - Creative Practice

Definition of the Liminal space aesthetic:

Schyguyy’s videos are exemplars of what I call Liminal Exhilaration. His most recent video really hit me with how I must look when I’m walking home at night and staring up at starry skies or dim street lights. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cv0C7EBNi0F/

Look at his face. This is how I imagine I look when starring up at nothingness. It’s this somewhat voluntary (I wouldn’t say deliberate) relaxing of your face muscles which often feels mindless, thoughtless and consumed by the simplest sensory stimuli like an infant. 

Here are some comments. They wrap up what I feel for his work quite well. This kind of exhilaration is not the type that makes you say “oh my god” in excitement; it’s better enjoyed through feeling rather than comprehension.

In the eternal seas of narrative or “meaning”-rich content we’re drowned with today, one can stand up and realise that the understandable is merely a pool we’re addictively submerged in.

In a citadel, high above the slums sits aristocrats who find beauty only in the glisten and shine of gemstones; comfortable in the instant gratification palace of their own incarceration, they will never come down and appreciate the beauty in what wasn’t made to be beautiful. 

Although very woke, the above is how I feel about a lot of content on social media and its viewers who’re stuck in the scroll.

Research - Technical

The Use of Color in Liminal Spaces – Shookey

Shookey’s Youtube video on his methods of determining what makes a space “liminal”.

“Liminal Spaces are art. No matter what the medium may be. Because of this, artists will make efforts to frame or shape said mediums to make them actually feel Liminal.” (Shookey 2021)

Monochromatic Colour

Always having a clear standout colour can make an image that looks real feel fake or unnatural.

Contrast (Between colours, shapes, or light)

Red outside this laundry room gives the feeling of danger. This is a literal contrast from the relatively normally lit and coloured inside, to the outside which looks as though it may be day time but with an unnatural red haze. The only time this would be visible in reality is supposedly during a dust storm, however, he say’s that in liminal space imagery this could be something much worse.

He says the lighting outside has either been altered or naturally balanced with the inside, so the contrast is not with inside-outside light but with the blue and purple. Purple gives feelings mystery and the unnatural.

Washed

This method is likely most useful for my project and the type of liminal spaces I want to display.

These examples have all been the uncanny side of “liminal spaces” that I still have to classify as “liminal” because of the fact that they play around the boundary of the real and the surreal. The above image is bizarre in how there is almost nothing visible other than this exit sign. The exit sign points to the fog but staying on the same path leads to fog as well; other than that, the exit sign is strangely lacking in information, no distance, no name, just exit and an arrow. This type of contrast is between the clear and unclear, ironically making the clear subject very unclear in a figurative sense. This technique could be very useful in controlling the viewers focus, hopefully in a way that can add nostalgia. Even though the exit sign’s meaning isn’t clear, the creator has utilized a very recognizable and understandable object to be the subject; I too will pick out objects that our brain has strong existing neural pathways to. However, my choices will not merely be recognizable objects amongst a bleak background (because almost everything today we see we have seen before) but objects shapes or environments that many people have attributed memory to.

I want to be able to make the viewer feel like they’ve seen this before, like they’re getting back part of a memory.

The type of liminal spaces I want to film are empty locations of our childhood (like streets as proven earlier) described as having an elegiac aura. Because video creators refer to this aura as particularly saddening, I will chose spaces that have general relation to childhood or adolescence but aren’t obvious; this way I hope to evoke that feeling of familiarity, to provide comfort, but not the eeriness of seeing your childhood memories in such empty lifeless states.

Exhilarating Project 1 - Skate fear edit

Just been thinking about how I might film this. I want the video to have this interesting 2d platform to it. It’s obviously 3D but the camera keeps the subject in the centre of the frame and at the same angle, requiring the camera to move exactly as the subject does.

Exhilarating Project 2 – Liminal Exhilaration

Exhilarating Project 3 - Upside-Down People

Still discussing.

Works Cited

Collins, D. 2019, THE SCIENCE BEHIND OVERCOMING FEAR IN SKATING [Interview], Jenkem Magazine with Nic N & Cole K.

Christensen, P.M., O’Brien, M. and Matthews, H. (2002) ‘The street as a liminal space’, in Children in the city: Home, neighbourhood and community. 1st edn. Abingdon, Oxon.: Routledge.

Sherman, D.K. and Cohen, G.L. (2006) ‘The Psychology of Self‐defense: Self‐affirmation theory’, Advances in Experimental Social Psychology, pp. 183–242. doi:10.1016/s0065-2601(06)38004-5.

The Use of Color in Liminal Spaces (2021) YouTube. Available at: https://youtu.be/xza58OeSSYo (Accessed: 01 August 2023).

[returntosaturn271995]

Friday, August 11th: Senior (Account Executive) Skip Day

I'm sure it's just the calm before the influencer storm, but I well and truly was not assigned a damn thing to do today. This is likely due to Halle's tenure as a freelancer ending when August comes to a close, which is fucking fine by me. Has anyone in the history of time done less to make over $1500?

Actually sadly yes, probably. But I refuse to get too comfortable or too proud of myself until I actually start doing something. It reminds me of when I worked for Sony at 23, literally being paid to essentially print things and sit there all day when I was 22. Big companies just kind of have fuck-you money to throw at useless cogs. Like yes, technically: I drafted contracts and edited creative concepts for the brand, and drafted a list of Influencers for review. But that shit isn't difficult. There are templates and processes and like 4 extra hours after that to just keep your Microsoft Teams on while you do your laundry.

You can be completely ineffective for like years before it even becomes a matter of review. Imposter Syndrome is currently in full effect or maybe I'm just realizing that no one is inherently more "worthy" or special than I am. Pleasantly though, my anxiety is at bay (which bay is still to be determined, but I'm comfortable.)

Either way, I'm online shopping! Currently rocking a two-piece black workout set with my black and white Asics and white scrunchie. It's around 4 in the afternoon and Makenna and I are just chilling on the couch and trying to lure her cat Blue from her room to the living room. She is currently very unsure even with treats on the table.

Today my Nike Run App plan is to go on a "Long-Run", which since I'm on an 8-week 5 K plan is legit just a mile. So I'm going to focus on speed. It's nice and overcast out so thankfully I won't die of heat exhaustion. Global warming has not been fucking around lately, Maui is currently on fire with over 55 people killed. Not that I'm comparing my getting hot in the summer to looming natural disasters. Or well, okay I guess I just did, but at least I'm running? Yesterday I did a recovery run at 9 miles per hour and then a 10-minute yoga stretching session.

Also read in "4000 Weeks" about the power of having your vacation or off time at the same time as others, as well as shared goals being a source of happiness. He specifically cited singing in choirs, which I completely remember and relate to from high school. The fact that I went to Iceland and Costa Rica to sing still surprises me sometimes and singing in a 1500-year-old church in 8 parts remains a religious experience in my heart. I've never been involved in a church or frankly into any hardcore doctrine, but I do miss feeling as though I were contributing in a real way to something important, beautiful, and bigger than myself. Something to think about.

In Jenny Slate's, "Little Wierds", the writing and stories are both poetic and silly. Also so relatable that I could cry. There are elements of nature, hope, despair, a 19th-century ghost woman at the seaside, and what I can only describe as vagina panic. She doesn't write like me at all and yet our souls have watched similar movies and gotten lost in similar forests.

In brighter news: The U.S. Department of Energy announced on Friday that it will spend $1.2 billion on the nation’s first two major carbon-capture facilities. 

[dospunksdao]

Stand clear of the closing doors please

bodaciouspirate for DOS Punks

Bing bong! If you've not heard by now, Sean Luke is the DOS Punks DAO Artist of the Month for July 2022, and already this month, we can join Sean in celebrating the release of his 17th artwork minted on Tezos.

'◌_▨' July 8, 2022

Damn good, right? It gets better! I have some exclusive Sean Luke content for you right here. Sean agreed to meet with me for an interview, and before he could change his mind, I hopped on a flight to NYC. He challenged me to pick the meeting spot, and I suggested Taverna Kyclades - a Greek spot I'd been to once before. It's in Astoria which is just a short car ride from LaGuardia, and I figured we could see what's good over some pan-fried cheese and cold beer.

BP: So how about this? Let's start at the beginning. Who are you? Where are you from?

SL: My name is Sean, and I was born, raised, and still live in NY.

BP: And what do you do? When did you start?

SL: I exist.

Time out. This response, "I exist," is pedal-to-the-metal Sean Luke. It's difficult for me to add context in this format, but give Sean a follow, interact with him, and see for yourself what he's all about.

SL: I started making art in the 80s and got ‘serious’ about it in the 90s.

BP: Tell me about your art. How do you do what you do? What is your process?

SL: I draw from over 30 years of art experience, so refining that down would be rather hard. For my current minted works, I use Aseprite exclusively, which is essentially Microsoft Paint with layers and an animation add-on.

BP: How did you choose which medium you work in?  When did you first discover your preference for this medium?

SL: I don't have a specific medium, but when it comes to my minted works, I chose Aseprite for a few reasons. The main one being that it's so bare bones and straight to the art. Again, if you're familiar with Microsoft Paint, then you will understand how quickly you can start drawing/painting in Aseprite, which I love.

BP: How closely are your creations connected to each other?

Time out, again. Just as I'm asking this question, a Chevy Impala cruises past the restaurant, windows down, and blasting Beastie Boys:

"But if you're hot to trot, you think you're slicker than grease I've got news for you crews, you'll be sucking like a leech!"

I looked at Sean who nodded along with me, approvingly.

SL: MOST of my pieces have no connection, but my current minted works are part of a greater cosmic quilt.

BP: If you were to direct people to a specific piece of work that you feel really nails what you are aiming for with your creations, which would it be?

SL: This is an interesting question, but for me there is no specific piece for something I am 'aiming' for beyond the enjoyment of creating.

BP: What inspires you?

SL: Lots of shit.

BP: Why do you create. What is it that pushes you to keep creating?

SL: I enjoy it. I enjoy creating LOL.

BP: Is there an ultimate goal for your creations?

SL: Enjoyment ...

BP: What advice can you offer to other creators?

SL: ENJOY what you are doing, and make art that you ENJOY. Too much enjoyment LOL.

BP: Thank you, Sean! I'll be seeing ya ...

I trust that you enjoyed this interview with Sean Luke as much as I did. In the next update, we'll take a look at some more of Sean's minted artworks including those collected by DOS Punks DAO.

‘passing_time’ February 13, 2022

[nctynuniverse]

Stressed

Nakamoto Yuta x reader

«s»

Words: 1200ish

A/N: I wrote this like in half an hour because I got so stressed at work I needed a break. Also this started being a fic for Ten but while writing my best friend texted me something about Yuta and well, now it's a Yuta one shot. Also it's my first smut so don't come at me. No beta read though cause I'm lazy.

SMUT AHEAD minors do not interact.

You were stressed. Like, super stressed. Work had been really busy lately and that day in particular it seemed that you’d only have to deal with bigots.

You felt like crying, which you did a few times trying not to be caught by your boyfriend, who happened to have a day off and was playing some stupid video game on his Nintendo switch, on your sofa.

Once, twice, then the third time you let a sigh out, Yuta decided he had had enough. He looked at the clock and it showed 3pm. You hadn’t taken your break not had you looked away from that damned computer the whole day. Not even for a second. You even had lunch while munching on some random leftovers you found on the fridge.

He left his Pokémon game there and stood up, stretching a bit, unnoticed by you right before approaching to your form.

Forecasting had never been your cup of tea and finance in general was difficult as fuck to you, but what could be done about it? It was your job after all.

And it was stressing the fuck out of you.

Yuta approached you from behind and placed his hands softly on your shoulders, a soft gasp leaving your lips before you looked up at him, offering a small smile only to take your eyes back on the computer a second later.

He huffed and rested his chin on your head, his hands traveling down your arms giving you goosebumps.

“Baby, do you need anything?” You asked, eyes still on the damned computer.

“Mmmh. Not really” he answered softly, then his hands stopped right on your shoulders again, giving you a soft massage. “But you need to take a break”.

You were pissed and he was right. Thus, you sighed and, easily convinced, changed your status on Microsoft Teams from ‘do not disturb’ to ‘away’. Then turned around.

“You’re right. It’s just that I’m in charge of too many things and I can’t make them make sense and everyone is leaning on me but I do not have the expertise on this a-and…”

You started babbling but he caught you right there, taking your hand and bringing you to the couch with him, laying you there, his body behind you, spooning yours perfectly. His arm crept from your nape to under your neck and stayed there, while his other arm was above you, his hand drawing circles on your stomach.

You shuddered and closed your eyes, lost in the feeling. He kissed your nape and his hand traveled from your stomach to your thighs, stroking them softly.

“Shh, relax. I can make you forget about it, would you like that?”

You let out a sigh and nodded softly, your job could be damned for all your knew. Meanwhile, his hand situated itself between your thighs, caressing their inside slowly, dangerously close to your core.

“I need words baby, tell me” and his hand went further closer “do you want me to make you feel good?”

His mouth was so close to your ear, it almost made you whimper. You nodded quickly, your hand grabbing onto his wrist.

“Yes, Yuta, please. Make me feel good”.

He left a kiss right behind your ear and bit on that same spot on your nape.

“Good girl”.

His hand then cupped your mound, while the other one grabbed one of your breasts, pinching the nipple over your clothes.

Your body shivered and a little moan rolled out of your lips. You closed your eyes just to get lost on the feeling even more.

His fingers played with your clit over your leggings and you were thankful to have chosen that item for your bottom that day, being able to feel every little movement he made.

Yuta, on his side, was also enjoying the situation a bit too much and you could simply notice that with the way his length ft hard on your butt, your hips bringing him some friction, making him groan.

Eventually, Yuta grew tired of teasing you and brought his hand inside your leggings, touching your core directly with his pads. He drew his fingers across your folds, gathering the wetness, making a bit of a mess.

“Baby you’re dripping and I haven’t even touched you properly yet” he brought his wet fingers and drew circles on your clit with them “kinda pathetic, don’t you think?”

You were experiencing pure bliss.His words were taking you to another dimension and his fingers expertly messing with you were driving you crazy. You wanted more, and you let him know, the best you could, mixing your words with your moans. He chuckled.

“How spoiled. But whatever my. baby. wants” the way he accentuated each word tapping on your clit had you almost cumming right then and there “she gets”. And after finishing that sentence, he slipped two fingers in you.

A loud moan left your lips and it worsened when he started scissoring his fingers inside you, thursting them in a quick pace, while you just couldn’t keep quiet.

“Baby you’re being too loud, why don’t you just” and he didn’t even get to finish the sentence because as soon as his free fingers were near your mouth, you leaned in to suck on them as if they were a lollipop, drool spilling from your mouth making a mess.

Yuta thought you were fucking hot and right before you could cum, he withdrew his fingers from your folds, gaining a muffled insult from you. His fingers still stuck in your mouth, he let out a laugh and lowered your leggings as well as his pants, pumping himself before teasing your folds from behind.

You sucked even harder on his lips at the sensation, and his mouth was again dangerously close to your ear. He smiled devilishly.

“Now, be a good girl and stay still, alright? Do you want me to fuck you?”

You nodded and that was enough for him to thrust the tip in, biting his bottom lip while waiting for your signal for him to go all in. Which didn’t take much to come as you wiggled your hips a little, letting him know he could take you hora ever he wanted to. And he did.

He finally took his hand from your mouth, wiping your saliva on your cheek and wrapped it around your throat, while the other one grabbed your hips, him thrusting inside you from behind.

Soft praises left his mouth while he chased both of your highs, you too lost on the pleasure to acknowledge anything beside how much a good girl you were for taking him so well. And that made you come even closer.

Not sure when but you felt him twitch inside you and you begged him to cum inside you, while his hand that was before on your throat traveled to your clit and drew circles there, causing you both to cum at the same time, making a mess on the couch.

Panting, you turned around lazily to look at him, both of you still almost fully clothed. He offered you a soft smile and kissed your nose, before pinching your butt.

“I hope I took your mind off work at least for a few minutes”

“You surely did. Not sure how I’m gonna go back from my break though”.

[dirty-bosmer]

So… I tried not to ask too many, but I couldn’t contain myself, so 3, 13, 19, 22, 25, 37 for the weird writer questions if you want to 😁

Eeeee, I will answer them all haha (or at least the ones that I have not already 🥰)

so 3 and 19 I answered already, but here are the rest! Thank you!!

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

Right now, Lucien being "in love." So god damn gross, I can't with myself. It's strange cause the thoughts come to me easily, but I am just too hesitant to write them down. There is some sort of system of checks and balances in my head that is preventing me from making him worse 😂 Things that come easy? Angst and sadness and thoughts of dissolution lol. I actually need to remove some of it from the Illusionist cause I realize I went overboard.

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

Not very 😩 I use microsoft word and I have one working document for all my chapters, and one for random scraps that I might use in future chapters. But what ends up happening is I write one chapter and then re-read, make edits, write more and realize it really should be two chapters rather than one. Then I have "chapter 21 a" and "chapter 21 b" and sometimes that process will happen again and now I have "chapter 21 the REAL one" and "chapter 22" and "maybe chapter 23 or maybe garbage." I also have some random thoughts on the Notes app in my phone.

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

I think I previously answered this one for Raminus and said that he likes to read smut lol. But I will give one more. Lucien is a baby when he is sick. Outwardly, he will play it tough and act like he is fine. He will refuse help from anyone else, but when he is back in Fort Farragut he will sniffle and whine and moan. He will wrap himself in his blankets and slurp his tea really loudly, then sit still and be like "I am dying." Dramatic 🙄

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

I would like to think that they could tell I don't actually approve of people acting this way haha. Honestly, I don't know 😬 that is kind of a scary thought. Hopefully that I value the complexities of human nature and realize that with topics or morality and good vs. evil, things are seldom cut and dry.

[mothspore]

walk me home

i still have literally no idea how to set this up so i guess here’s this 

pairing: logince

warnings: none

it’s literally just fluff uhhh

do i need a summary? someone please teach me how to do this i’m dying

Logan sighed as he stepped out of the lobby of his building. He had a long day at work, and didn’t feel comfortable walking home at night, especially not in the freezing rain, when he only really had a light jacket. And so, he ended up calling Roman down, because he was the only person Logan knew who would be crazy enough to be up at 2am.

One thing was wrong with his logic though—apparently, Roman wasn’t crazy enough to be awake at 2am. The phone rang, and rang, and rang, to the point where Logan was about to just suck it up and walk home on his own. Then he picked up.

“Logan? What the hell? Do you know what time it is?” Roman asked, voice still heavy with sleep. Logan immediately felt awful for waking him up, knowing how few hours of sleep he must get because of college.

“My apologies, I wasn’t aware that you were asleep. You usually stay up quite late.”

“Yeah, well, university is exhausting me. But why did you call? It’s not like you to call me just because, especially not at 2am,” he said mid-yawn.

“Well, you have a point there. It really—It’s not an issue, I can handle it on my own, I’m sorry for waking you. You should go back to sleep, I can walk home on my own.”

“What? You’re out?”

“Well—Yes, my work day ended up running a little late—”

“A little late? At 2am?”

“—okay, a lot late. Regardless, I only finished just recently, and I didn’t feel comfortable walking home alone in the rain. However, if it’s a matter of feeling uncomfortable or your health, the obvious priority is your health.”

“Well, it’s your health, too, Lo. You know to trust your gut, if you’re hesitant, there’s a good reason. And it’s raining, you could get sick. Where are you?”

“What? No, go back to sleep!”

“We’ve been talking for a few minutes now, I’m up. And I’m coming to get you. Do you have a proper coat?”

“Roman, no! I can walk home on my own, I’m just being overdramatic. You don’t need to come get me. Seriously. Go back to sleep.”

“Logan, shut up. Now do you have a coat?”

Logan sighed in defeat. He knew that now that Roman had his mind set, there was no changing it. “No, I don’t. Thank you, Roman. You don’t have to do this.”

“Uh, yeah, I do. What kind of person would I be if I just let you freeze out there?” Logan heard a noise that was undeniably Roman grabbing some coats. “Damn it! I forgot my roommate borrowed the car to visit family… Damn. Alright, I’m going to take a little longer than I thought. Here, go back inside your building, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Logan told Roman the address, and he hung up. He turned to go back inside, and then remembered the automatic lock on the doors. He was stuck outside in the cold until Roman got here. The icy rain splashed down on his head, leaving droplets on his glasses and soaking his jacket. He sighed shakily and shivered, hoping that Roman would get here soon.

He was very flattered that Roman seemed to care enough about him to run out in the middle of the night in the rain to get his stupid ass home. He chuckled a bit, knowing he’d do the same for Roman. Although he had to admit that his reasons were probably quite different than Roman’s. He doubted that Roman held the same...er, admiration for him as he did for Roman. It was quite frustrating at times, both having said admiration and dealing with the reality that it is more than likely not reciprocated. Sometimes, however, it was difficult to hold himself back.

When he saw Roman running at him through the rain, full speed, still in his fuzzy sleep pants, mismatched socks, and sandals, waving a heavy coat and scarf at him, he was having a particularly hard time holding himself back. Roman’s smile widened as he saw Logan’s bewildered expression.

“What on earth—Did you run here?!” Logan asked.

“Yep! Like I said, my roommate borrowed the car, so I couldn’t exactly drive.”

“You could’ve taken a bus, Roman!”

“Ah yes, the bus, the one that drives around at 2am. Busses have schedules, you know! The drivers have to sleep at some point, Microsoft Nerd.”

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but realized that Roman was right. “Well still, I feel bad for making you run through the rain like this, especially at this hour.”

Roman shrugged, handing Logan the heavy coat. “Eh, no big deal. I’m always up for new adventures,” he said. Logan adjusted Roman’s coat, which was a few sizes too big. “And besides,” Roman said, wrapping the scarf around the shorter man’s neck, “I couldn’t let you freeze your cute little nose off out here.” He booped Logan on the nose, earning a tiny surprised noise. Logan’s face burned. He desperately hoped that it was unnoticeable in the rain.

The two started walking through the storm, side by side. Logan was hyperaware of their proximity to each other. Every so often, their hands would brush or their shoulders would bump, and every time it happened, Logan would feel a shock of tingles go up his arm, warming his core. However, the warmth in his chest did little to combat the bitter cold of the rain. He shivered and pulled Roman’s coat tighter around him. The temperature continued to drop. Roman took notice of his shivering and wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulder. Logan’s cheeks flushed again, and he huddled in closer to the taller man.

Logan’s mind raced. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to say fuck it and tell Roman everything. It would be relatively easy to do, he has played it out in his head enough times to know what he would say. All he would need to do is say it. He mentally prepared himself to say the words he’s kept to himself for so long—

“There it is! There you go, Lo,” Roman said cheerfully, lifting his arm away.

Logan’s heart dropped. No! Just when he had gotten the confidence to actually say something… He slowed his pace gradually until he stopped. Roman turned back to look at him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. In that moment, Logan decided to risk it all, because he knew he wasn’t going to get another opportunity like this.

“Logan? Are you alright?” Roman began, but he never got to finish. Logan grabbed his face and stood on his toes, pressing their lips together.

Roman’s eyes widened in shock, stumbling backwards and arms flying up from his sides. Then he realized what was happening. He immediately kissed back. He snaked his arms down around Logan’s waist and pulled him closer to his chest. One of Logan’s arms wrapped around Roman’s neck, and his other hand buried itself in his hair.

Around them, the rain crystallized, and snow began falling in its place. The two men stood there in the middle of it all, lips moving as one. They parted all too soon, gasping for air. Logan found himself breathlessly cursing the low air capacity of human lungs. Roman smiled like Logan had never seen, and if he wasn’t already struggling to catch his breath, it would’ve taken his breath away. Roman grabbed Logan by the waist and lifted him in the air, spinning him around effortlessly. Logan squeaked at the unexpected movement. Roman pulled Logan back to his chest for a moment, kissing him again. He sprinkled kisses all over Logan’s face until he too was smiling like an idiot. Roman let him down, but grabbed hold of one of his hands.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been holding that back,” Roman whispered. Logan chuckled a little.

“I...think I can imagine,” Logan responded giddily.

Then Roman did something that really surprised him. He pulled Logan back into a tight hug. “I love you,” he whispered. Logan’s heart skipped a beat or eight. “More than anything. I’ve been waiting to tell you for so long. I love you, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes filled with tears as he buried his face in Roman’s chest. He smiled as he sobbed, whispering tiny “I love you too”s back at him. Roman melted and held him close. At the end of the night, they shared one last tender kiss before Roman headed home, but neither of them slept. The only thing they could think about was each other.

[im-actually-ok]

Fangs

Chapter two

First, next

Masterlist

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Platonic DLAMPR

Word Count: 1336

Genre: Semi angsty i think?

Warnings: Fangs, very slight body horror(the fangs), food, eating, sleep deprivation, fighting, yelling, all caps, slight swearing, mention of tying someone up for info (Remus), Remus being Remus. (i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know so i can add it, thank you!!!)

-----

Logan fixed his tie and sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. He /really/ didn’t want to do this. He had stolen some of Virgil’s makeup to cover his dark eyebags but Virgil was paler than Logan so the concealer didn’t look quite right but it was close enough. He had prepared more conversational flashcards and had fixed his hair and cleaned up his disheveled appearance but he honestly was not ready to meet the others for dinner, especially since his problem was in his mouth.

No matter how hard he tried to get rid of his fangs they wouldn’t go away, they had actually seemed to be getting sharper, the amount of times he had bit the insides of his cheeks was insane.

The worst part is they now caused him to lisp slightly as he spoke, which was annoying of course but the others would definitely notice if he spoke to them with a lisp, even if he covered his mouth. ‘Why does this have to be so difficult?’ he thought with a small sigh. He ran a hand through his neatly brushed hair and took a deep breath. Here we go.

For the first time in weeks he left his room, walking down the hall and down the stairs, entering the living room to see the others there, waiting for him at the table, talking, but they sounded… nervous?

He stayed up on the stairs, trying to listen in on their conversation.

“He /growled/ at me the other day! Actually growled!” Roman exclaimed in a hushed voice.

Patton was the next to speak, “we just.. We just have to talk to him, obviously something is wrong.”

“Have you ever even met Logan?? He’s not going to tell us the truth about what’s going on, he’ll just say he’s fine and continue to shut us out,” Virgil said with an annoyed huff.

“Grim Burton is right, we need to be sneaky about this,” Roman replied, “let’s just see how dinner goes, everything will be fine,”

“Have you ever thought about, oh, I don’t know, leaving Logan alone? I know I would absolutely /love/ it if all my friends went behind my back to plan ways to get me to spill my secrets,” Janus hissed, rolling his eyes at the others

“Seriously guys, lets just go with my suggestion of-”

“Remus we are not going to tie him down for answers.”

“You’re all no fun.”

He listened to them bicker and talk about him behind his back until he had enough. He walked down the remainder of the stairs and everyone went quiet.

“Logan! Hey, kiddo!” Patton said with an enthusiastic yet nervous smile

Logan simply nodded in response, coming and sitting at the table in his usual spot between Janus and Virgil and across from Roman

After an awkward moment of silence, Roman spoke up, “Uhh, me and Padre made pasta and salad and stuff, you know, healthier choices and stuff, I-I’ll go make up everyone’s plates,” he said, standing and moving to get the food.

Great. Soft food. Not like Logan could eat any of it, softer foods have been proven harder to eat with the fangs seeing as they’re designed for meat. Not like he could eat anything anyways, not without opening his mouth and risking them seeing…

Roman came, serving up each different plate and bringing it to the table, setting them down in front of the others and eventually in front of Logan who didn’t say a word. Roman swallowed nervously and continued to sit back down with an anxious chuckle, “uhh, bon appetit?”

Logan picked up his fork and for a hopeful second they thought he might eat, but then he continued to simply poke and prod at the food on his plate, eyes down as his glasses slid down his nose and were promptly pushed back up into place.

“So, uh, how is it, Lo?” Roman asked after a good five minutes of silence even though all of them knew that he hadn’t taken a bite.

Logan simply pulled out a flashcard that said ‘Lit, adj. Amazing, cool, or exciting’

“Oh, back at it with the flashcards, huh? When are we going to hear that beautiful voice of yours again, teach?” Virgil asked when he saw but Logan gave him a look that made the other shrink back and mumble a “geez, sorry,” and pull his hood up over his head.

“Now, Logan, don’t get upset with Virgil just for asking to hear you speak,” Patton said in a sterner parental voice which earned him the same look from Logan that he had given Virgil.

Logan rolled his eyes, standing and turning to get something from the fridge where they were unable to see him speak, “I am thimply not in the thpeaking mood, thank you very much,” he said, opening the fridge and grabbing the orange juice

“But you haven't spoken to any of us in for forever, Microsoft nerd,” Roman said, moving to stand, “And now you’re here at dinner, not eating and not saying a word, what are we supposed to think?”

A low growl started to grow in Logan’s throat as he stayed, facing away from them, “I would thay you’d think to mind your own busineth,” He growled, a lisp creeping into his words, grip tightening around the carton in his hand.

“Now, Kiddo, there’s no need to be rude,” Patton reprimanded.

“Logan we just totally /don’t/ want you to talk to us,” Janus said, standing as well.

“Anyone else notice Nerdy Wolverine’s lisp?” Remus asked from his position, leaned back in his chair with his feet on the table.

“Hey… yeah, what’s that about, Lo?” Virgil asked, sitting up a little to look at the logical facet.

“Why doncha give us one of them award winning smiles, eh? Been a while since we’ve seen them pearly whites,” Remus said with a smirk.

“Will you all jutht SHUT UP?!” Logan snapped, hand gripping the carton so tight he was crumpling it.

“Logan Sanders!” Patton yelled, going to scold him again but Logan turned, slamming the fridge and chucking the carton at the wall, watching it splatter on the hard surface.

“Jutht LEAVE ME ALONE!!” he snapped before walking to the stairs, and he could hear all of them calling after him and he felt Janus catch his wrist which he yanked away and growled at the other, causing him to step back as Logan continued up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door shut behind him, breathing heavily as he locked it and turned, pressing his back against the door and letting his body slide to the floor.

“Well, that /totally/ worked,” Janus said with a huff

Remus just smiled,“Woah, damn I forgot how hot the nerd could be,”

“Remus, now is not the time-”

“You’re one to talk, Pat, what was that?! He’s obviously having a hard time, you didn’t need to scold him,” Roman said, obviously upset.

“Roman you weren't any better,” Virgil snapped, “calling him out like that, you scared him off!”

“Oh /Roman/ scared him off?! What about you, Virgil?? Pressing him about the lisp, you could have been gentler,” Janus snapped and Virgil hissed at him.

“You’re all missing the point!!” Remus yelled and everyone quieted down, “That fucking nerdis our friend and you were all fucking idiots and hurt him, now quiet down because it’s all of yours faults,” He said, rolling his eyes and sinking out.

Patton sighed, nodding and sinking out into his room followed by Janus and Virgil until only Roman was left, standing there alone.

He looked over at the stairs, lips pressed together in a fine anxious line. He hesitantly made his way up the stairs and into the hall, finding Logan’s room. He could hear the heavy breathing on the other side of the door and after a minute he took a breath, raising his hand and knocking on the door softly.

“Lo? You there?”

“Yeah… I’m here…”

------

Part two!! Finally did it!! XD The next part should be coming soon, unless I get distracted or forget.

Fangs tag list:

@did-he-just-hiss-at-me @aegis-the-ace @occasional-fander

[worrynotso]

Stamp on the ground

AKA Logince Dance Dance Revolution (arcade) AU! 

Did a little bullet fic in impatentpending’s server (with input from @skyscrapersanddandelions) and now need to share it bc rhythm gaming.

-----

When it starts, Roman's already being extra about it. By the time Logan meets him at the arcade, which involves navigating a solid wall of noise to the very back where there's a thin crowd of regulars gathered, Roman's playing. 

Roman's a freestyle player and likes to choreograph routines to his favourite tracks. He has his shoes and socks off and he's weaving in between the two dance pads in Double mode, arms just as coordinated as his footwork and it's impressive as hell. 

Which makes Logan want to beat him, so badly.

The set ends, and Roman's got at least an AA on everything. He whoops and he's still grinning, breathing a little hard when he turns around and Logan's there, hands on both rails right off the platform

It's much less intimidating than he'd like given that Roman's a couple inches taller from this vantage point, but Logan doesn't falter 

Roman grins wider. This isn't the first time they've done this.

Logan leaves his shoes on. He makes a deadpan comment about proper hygiene but, as a technical player, he benefits from the longer reach his shoes give him to the foot pads

Logan's play style is the exact opposite of Roman's, of course. He plays for efficiency, holding the bar to conserve energy and making the most minimalistic movements possible to move as fast as possible, sometimes using his heels to hit arrows or to hold two arrows at once.

Roman thinks it looks ugly as sin to play this way

Startup and song selection is just their excuse to snipe at each other, predicting scores and gravely promising the other's downfall

Concerned onlookers can't quite hear their words over the music but they look like they're gonna throw hands

The first song is only on difficult, Logan insists on proper warm-up after all and Roman can't gloat if they aren't playing on the same difficulty

Roman dances like the foot pads aren't even there, one movement melting into the next like he's singing the notes instead of reading a board full of rapidly scrolling arrows.

Logan's moving more than he is dancing but it's no less beautiful, like someone programmed the steps into his legs and he's just executing the code with artful precision. Weight shifting exactly as it needs to, hands firmly behind him on the rail. 

Other regulars have seen this before. These two are so intense they only really co-op with each other, never taking part in tournaments even though they rank consistently within the top 7 at this location.

The song ends and both of them are breathing hard now, Logan's won by a narrow margin. Warm-up my royal heinie, Roman thinks when Logan cocks an eyebrow his way. You just wanted to have first win.

As they're sipping water, Roman's needling at Logan's play style, telling he's not doing the robot right if he's not even using his arms and other dumb jabs

Logan snaps and goes fine, but I hope you're prepared to lose gracefully and loosens his tie, setting it atop the dashboard.

Roman shoots back bitch, I do everything gracefully as the song starts and it takes him a second to realise that wasn't the sick comeback he thought it was

They're playing on expert now, a harsh electronic song with no lyrics for Roman to focus his attention. Still, he doesn't forsake his style (he's not new) and powers through each movement with a flourish. Passersby have started to stop and watch

Logan's hands are out to his sides for balance and he's not really sure what to do with them, but he can see Roman killing it from the corner of his eye and endeavours to do the same

They're both panting and breaking a sweat by the time the song ends, Logan's teeth grit because he knows he broke his combo at some point. 

Roman wins by a whole grade. Logan's eye twitches. He can't think about hubris right now cause he's just mad

Roman, because Roman, is shouting HA before the scores even finish loading, crowing about evened playing fields and how he's going to wipe Logan's name from the scoreboard

It's his pick now so he selects something with a deceptively slow bpm on expert, one of the tracks he's halfway through choreographing while Logan spitefully chugs water.

Song starts with a rush of arrows and Logan's hands are stubbornly out in front of him. 

Roman's singing under his breath, like he doesn't have enough to do. Logan misses an arrow in that first barrage and snarls.

The song doesn't get less intense from there. Logan's struggling to find footing, his usual center of gravity's off and Roman's groove meter is steadily creeping up, which just throws him off more. He knows this, why is he losing it now?

It's actually during a slow section full of holds that Logan trips and goes down.

He could have sworn that Roman was holding two arrows with the same foot, and by the time he tried to correct his own moves his ankle buckled on a wrong step and he was sprawled on the dance pad

Roman's at his side the next moment, kneeling next to him asking are you okay? You didn't hit your head right? Can you move your foot? Talk to me, Microsoft Nerd

Logan's mostly dazed, he didn't have much weight on the foot that buckled so it's just the palms of his hands that were stinging along with his pride.

Eventually he answers something reassuring, lets Roman haul him off the dance pad. They stay grasping each other's hand as they catch their breath, rest of the song scrolling on, forgotten

Did I see you finally doing something technical? Logan has the wits to ask. Roman flusters, stiltedly saying something about learning from the best. Co-best, of course. He adds.

They still unlock the extra stage, by some miracle. The crowd's dissipated, and they take their time selecting a track they both have memorised. Both know when the slow segments are.

They're still holding hands, through the intro of the track. It's slow enough not to be a distraction, and Logan finds it an adequate source of balance in place of his rail, as long as things aren't too intense.

Roman thinks of it like a complete circuit between them, allows his flourishes to ebb just in the moment, movement more conservative so he's not jerking Logan's hand about

They know when to let go as it picks up, but they're no longer at a disconnect

Logan returns to the rail when he needs it to pull off a flurry of arrows coming at them, but when he has the pulse of the song running through him, his arms start to follow suit. 

It's small at first, but they swing with the beat, with his shifts in weight and it feels right. He even crouches down to slap arrows with his hands, at one point.

By the time the song wraps up, they're both grinning like they're the only ones in the place, sweat beading on their foreheads and giggles bubbling from their lips.

As Roman's stepping off the dance pad, Logan sweeps his hand up and places a chaste kiss on the back of it. Thank you, he murmurs just loud enough for him to hear.

Roman positively beams, and it's hard to kiss Logan when he's smiling so damn hard but he makes a valiant effort.

Bonus:

Someone coughs loudly and pointedly when the pair lingers in front of the screen

It’s Virgil, another regular here

These weirdos take it too seriously, they pull drama every other week and he’s left standing here wishing they’d find another way to flirt every time

He just wants to play the stupid game dude

[its-tortle]

can you do 14 and 23 for the ask game? 🥺❤️ i saw a post about writing fonts and i found out i was neutral evil 😂 my default is lato, but i think i’m gonna change it when i write my fics

14. what is your defining personality trait?

this is so damn hard, helena 😫 i always find it impossible to make such judgements about myself, but i guess i’ll go with what i’ve been told? everyone says that they admire how unapologetically myself i always am, so i guess that’s a trait? depressingly, that’s due far less to being confident in myself and due far more to the fact that i have absolutely no filter and i don’t know how not to be the most obnoxious version of myself, but i’m working on not hating that, so i guess i’ll take the compliments.

that was a weirdly long-winded response with no definite answer, sorry 🙈 (but that’s what you get far asking such a difficult question 💕)

23. default font when typing?

honestly, most of the time when i’m writing academic stuff and nearly always when i’m writing fics, it’s comic sans! i remember is saw a writing tip on this hellsite that it actually makes writing easier cause it feel so much more like a brainstorm-y rough draft, and i thought i’d try it, and it’s true! it’s definitely just a psychological thing, but i really think it makes writing that much easier and takes some of the pressure off. feel free to try it, y’all!

otherwise, when i’m not using that ridiculous font i use cambria or average, depending on if i’m on microsoft word or google docs.

send me asks!

[nonelvis]

2020 fic meme

(xposted from Dreamwidth)

I didn't do this meme last year, because I wrote one (1) fic in 2019, uggggh. But this year I have seven! It's a 2020 miracle!

Fic written in 2020 All of these are varying degrees of adult-rated except for the G-rated "Fragment of a Fragment," and teen-rated "The Cold Curve of the Moon" and "Can I Teach You a Lesson?". (The latter includes sexual metaphors, but nothing explicit.) The Cliffs of Pandarium (Tenth Doctor/Dhawan!Master, Doctor Who; Teaspoon, AO3) Round the Back Way (Thirteenth Doctor/Dhawan!Master, Doctor Who; Teaspoon, AO3) The Cold Curve of the Moon (Tenth Doctor/Reinette, Doctor Who; Teaspoon, AO3) The Question-Mark Curve of a Cat's Tail (Tenth Doctor/Missy, Doctor Who; Teaspoon, AO3) Fragment of a Fragment (Eleventh Doctor, TARDIS; Teaspoon, AO3) Can I Teach You a Lesson? (Badgey/Clippy, Star Trek: Lower Decks; AO3) The Sixteenth Move (River Song/Dhawan!Master, Doctor Who; Teaspoon, AO3) Leitmotif of the year Sacha Dhawan is a ridiculously pretty man playing one of my favorite characters. Of course I'm going to write fic about his Master. Overall thoughts I am legitimately amazed I wrote this much during this miserable excuse for a year. I fully expected to spend the year depressed and writing absolutely fuck-all again, and instead, seven! whole! fics! Which won't seem like much for people who are more prolific writers, but for me it's a pretty decent year. My best story of the year It's difficult to define "best" in a year where I feel several of these fics are doing something especially good with language and/or plot and/or characterization, so I'm going to go with my favorite, the one I have yet to get tired of re-reading: Round the Back Way. I enjoyed the hell out of writing it, other than the fight choreography, and it came out exactly the way I wanted it to. also, Can I Teach You a Lesson? is pretty damned good despite being ... whatever the hell it is My favorite story of the year Also Round the Back Way, though I was really pleased with how The Sixteenth Move mostly wrote itself over just a few days – not to mention how pleased I am that as far as I know, I'm the first person to write River/Dhawan!Master. (GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, FANDOM. This pairing is hot like burning!) Most fun story to write And again, Round the Back Way, because I had to come up with various scenarios about where and how the Master would be spending his time during that 77-year period he was stuck on Earth, and more critically, how the Doctor would foil his evil plans. Also, the Hello Kitty notes she leaves him still crack me up. Runner-up: The Sixteenth Move, which began with "but what if River/Dhawan!Master" and detoured into "but what if River pegs him with the MacGuffin," and I basically was cackling to myself the whole way through. (Except for the truly awful pun midway, where I was yelling at myself for writing it.) Story with the single sexiest moment The Question-Mark Curve of a Cat's Tail: the pacing feels just right to me, and it turned out that the plot-driven reason for Missy not letting Ten kiss her until after they'd finished somehow made it sexier, at least to me. Most "holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story Can I Teach You a Lesson? No question. NO QUESTION. I mean, it's a story about a homicidal holodeck program shaped like a giant Starfleet badge essentially having sex with Clippy, the Microsoft Office Assistant. This is the kind of story where I spent the entire writing process going "I can't believe I just wrote that," and then you perverts liked it. Story that shifted my own perception of the characters apparently Clippy is generous in the sack Hardest story to write I don't remember any of them being unusually difficult to write, though The Question-Mark Curve of a Cat's Tail might have taken slightly longer than it should have. Biggest disappointment I knew that releasing rarepair fic literally 36 hours before the end of the year was not exactly a recipe for massive popularity, but dammit, The Sixteenth Move deserves more hits. Biggest surprise ... that said, I am always surprised when one of my fics turns out to be popular, or at least popular by my standards, so the sheer number of people who have read and loved Round the Back Way make me very happy. Thank you, folks. Most unintentionally telling story Legitimately Can I Teach You a Lesson?, because it's further proof that apparently I have the world's most useless skill: being able to write pornography between inanimate objects. (See also the last two chapters of The Office Supply Chronicles and the Juicero/Unicorn frappucino fic.) Story I haven't written yet, but intend to No idea on the fic front – I'm hoping, but am not expecting, that maybe I'll be inspired to write more Thirteen-era fic – but I'm chewing over the idea for a novel that will probably never go anywhere. Eh, we'll see.

[fabrilyshop]

My Favorite Player Calls Me Mom Soccer American Flag Veteran Independence Day T Shirt

Against trump wood essays and now racism E gonna bring nothing but races in the so called races against black people and Latinos so why they have a My Favorite Player Calls Me Mom Soccer American Flag Veteran Independence Day T Shirt Joe Biden I was running against Indiana Stan is divide and conquer in a nutshell. I GET I PROBABLY HAVE TO GO OVER TIME TO GET THIS GOAL YEAH BY THE WAY GOD IS ONSTAR NORMALLY THIS HAPPENS WHERE LIKE ON A SATURDAY WOMEN WITH THE GOAL LITTLE LONGER BUT IT OBVIOUSLY IF AT ANY POINT YOU GOTTA GO JUST A LITTLE WHERE I STILL ANOTHER BEER BEFORE I SPEAK OF ALL I STORE PUMPING BEERS ALL RIGHT SO YOU CALL ME YOU CAN CALL ME A GIRL ONLY ONE LIKING THE SPEAR BUT I LIKE IT TO THINGS THE WAY GIRLS LIKE MYSELF I LIKE PUMPKIN PORTER LIKE A DARKER BEER WITH A LITTLE PUMPKIN FLAVOR TO IT REALLY GOOD HONESTLY WHAT WORKERS LIKE WILL BE DOMESTIC ATTENTION YOU GET A LITTLE BIT I DON’T RECALL SEEING WHITE GIRLS SPECIFICALLY LIKED IT BUT WHITE PEOPLE YEAH YEAH DESPITE SEARCH LIKE A WHITE GIRL THING YOU KNOW THE BASIC GIRL AGAIN I SAW YOUR PROMO IT’S COOL THAT SOMEONE FROM THE CREATOR AS WELL SO BUT THAT WAS JENNY MAKE THAT THINKING THAT HE LOST FROM MY THE SENATOR WANTED A ACCENT THAT TOLD ME WAS THE NEW ONE AND I THOUGHT I SENT IT TO THE NOT WANT TO SEE IT OF DOUBLE CHECK DO YOU SEE THIS THOUGH SATANIC TEMPLE. I want to congratulate you use assessment is a kind of watching the law you know that even though you know they most people when the baby will be here by your side we kind of felt like every episode he realized that we can only see two media was right there know how I love being that they were going back to bed for soand I love the manand are going to have is always thousand bad day is not a FIMand has made me so badand he is making me as a slave East Coast Bay Areaand LA Baltimore those places may not be made on how I love love love those communities those areas to about those areas may lieand he was no crashing into the biggest ball is to teach is to the principles to ponies that will be but on every bite your mom’sand apply anybody you raise meand I appreciated Naomi for my family back together is making Ryan out on a broken nose in the eye mages because of affairs VAB no more just to fail as they make more life Dessau appreciatedand will examine the making of them were made in the 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get in a letter so Boband his wifeand I think it’s high go to the homesand you would get over with me to see you see me do my greatest agency over the things in my lifeand you seem to have my size so as I do like your life is like an open book after you had his East Coastand shot down I would do a lot of stuffand I have a lot of stuff on TVand I’m inclined not to believe everything you read the paper enough to see on TV no one will look to you as you got shot the whole competitionand to slow down was I damn shy to ask you to’s own ass carefully or something like a disrespectful bit more cautious because I have been shot five things I know he lives life I’m cautious now much of being a particularly know we all have choices to makeand my choices are made about what a change of relatives as I can change the different lies that is made is the light of day to like maybe not as a major Mandalay Bay this is often the parole board of nobodies they gave was about to make the believable I 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them that I may try to when he like my with a weekly licensed in Texas in one is seen number two small bottles of calling for dialogueand attention for nylon switching to a struggle for power is really still generally Tupac is intense a lot of money like this would mean keeping legal combat the to do so the thing okay no I don’t know the is no I see was the same as allow you to phase will go back is no so we knowand I think the place that we should as we see you so is the only feedback back by 25 notice chopping up to that you everybody know is aand everybody down think about Devereaux what was Ronald Reagan out as an effective home so they don’t affect us I take that shoe shop fight for his life semi ascending tray was a cartoon jubilee that meetings rate of the essay wasn’t there was a song in our essays whole case was solid witnessed I said it was why drain of the show was too busy time so they tell me Adobe is my heroand will be down for his home but he was just a rally this is meand how to be a part of our being around them in the class that was doneand I will come by sequence Basil find out about our legislators rosters about that will come out you find itselfand you know I needed wedding guide on gaining all the people put down for us to live as well as talk about other days like the tone is not a soundtrack you working on new movie right call gridlock and I was amazedand coming back into the deal is with Tim Roth from pulp fiction about getting on the movies is a big name female supervisor outside is my first as a Duracell light is out on a Satmar sentence outside parties big name onset supposedly people I would never get to mom’s outside to showed his range I got back on the southand the rest as I doubt would like to buy basically me to much solo songs Bernard was solved all down everyoneand just to show that you are a business model as well as a creative mind show that also have no size is not my mouth my way raisins business is to tell you what would Janet know one immediately over a number of project element of is my song made setting is my name todayand she so I was no evidence of some ICs charming like it was youand I imagine five years from now so 5G is so self evident job Devereaux will in person not dropping out of lipoma cryingand Bob is is no remedy decided no one to use say like that I to an easier to my music sometimes I think she that the moment as he was right all was sent out a lot this child is not a publishing company doesn’t count as a charity you need in California

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[gunnerpalace]

You really are delusional aren't ya? Btw latest update says that the voice actors for Byakuya and Ichigo would be on stage with Kubo to present the new project on the ANIME stage ;).

That’s not new news. Your boy already reported that one. Seems you’re not keeping up. Seems you’re also incapable of thinking things through. When Morita Masakazu shows up at KLab, does that mean he’s narrating an audio book for them? When William Shatner shows up at a��Star Trek convention, does that mean they’re making a new TV show focused around Kirk? No.Neither of those means such a thing. They’re easy paychecks to cash. Assuming they were would be called “reaching.” Reaching being the core reflex of delusion. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m done being nice to you. I’m done extending even the barest hint of a modicum of civility toward you. I’m tired of it.

So try this on for size: fuck you, you fucking projecting piece of shit.

I’m going to go through this finely and carefully, because I already wrote out my first angry reply to your dumb ass, and I was pretty satisfied with it, only for Tumblr to eat it. So now I’m even angrier at you, you stupid fuck.

Let me say that despite the number of words I am about to spill, and the specific vitriol behind many of them, I know you care. You care more than I do, in fact, because you are here anonymously commenting in my inbox, when you could be doing literally anything else with your wretched and pathetic waste of a life. You care so fucking much you’re willing to go out and waste your time trolling on the internet about dumb anime bullshit. In other words, you are perhaps one step above some peasant on a forum desperately trying to defend Apple, Sony, Microsoft, or some other major corporation, yet you are still about a hundred steps below what is commonly reckoned to be the level of human decency.

Right about now you’re probably thinking, “Haha, you’re getting mad about anime,” and the thing is, I’m really not. I don’t know you, and yet I do know you. I know exactly who you are, and I know exactly what you want.

Human behavior is pretty scalar invariant—that is to say, it looks pretty similar regardless of whether it applies to something big or something small. While yes, we are discussing some dumb anime bullshit on the internet that really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, your behavior is still readily identifiable. 

You want to live in a delusional little world where you need your ego to be assuaged, your aesthetic preferences to be fulfilled, and your emotional needs to be met, and you do not care for little inconveniences like facts or truth or properly cited sources because all those things get in the way of your feelings and there is absolutely nothing more precious in the universe to you than your feelings, especially feeling right and feeling justified.

You know how I know that? Because you’re not alone. People like you—shitheads like you—are at the core of things like the anti-vaccination movement, or climate change denial, or chemtrail or moon hoax conspiracy theories, or the fucking Flat Earth Society. Shitheads like you voted in assholes like Trump, Johnson, Morrison, Putin, Erdogan, Orban, and Bolsonaro. Shitheads like you nod along sagely at assholes like Xi when they explain the Uighurs just have to be exterminated for the sake of security. Shitheads like you agree with assholes like Stephen Miller, Steve Bannon, Nigel Farage, and Marine Le Pen when they appeal to your worst emotional impulses, and damn the consequences.

And just like the followers and supporters of all those things and people, when you are called out on your behavior, when you are smacked in your stupid fucking face with actual facts and figures and sources, you project. You turn around and you attribute everything you are guilty of engaging in onto the other party as a defensive reaction and paint yourself as a victim.

You are exactly like a Trump voter crowing about corruption while supporting the most corrupt motherfucker to ever hold office in American government. (And no, for this analogy to work, it doesn’t matter if you’re American or not, and I don’t give a damn whether you are or not.) There is actually no difference between your behavior and theirs, it’s just a question of the scale of the matter being discussed.

In other words, to reiterate: you are a piece of shit.

Shitheads like you are not just an annoyance that the rest of us have to deal with. In your willful and self-serving ignorance you enable—you aid and abet—the assholes of the world, be they great and loathsome like Trump or tiny and laughable like Jaymes, and allow them to do what they do. You are the closest thing to a personification of evil that exists in the world because of that. You are the literal bane of civilization. You are a cancer upon the body of humanity.

If our species is to fail, if we are to all go extinct before ever reaching the stars, if we are to rape and pillage our planet to death, it will be because of shitheads like you and what you enable.

You disgust me. It is difficult to capture in words, be they in English or any other language, the contempt in which I hold shitheads like you—and since you are currently filling my awareness even if you are not in my proximity, the contempt in which I hold you in particular. I want you to imagine the most callous and dismissive look that you have ever been given in your life by someone, and I want you to multiply its severity by an order of magnitude so you might have some inkling of the low regard in which I personally hold you. I view you as less than dirt and dogshit on the tread of my boots.

Your sycophantic ass-kissing of some attention-whore white guy on Twitter and your desperate, sorry need to believe that you got exactly what you wanted from a fucking manga when it did the textual equivalent of shitting in your mouth is, in many ways, even more sad and execrable than those masses that desperately need a strongman to lead them or who have perverted and betrayed their so-called values in the name of stability and security, because at least those people chose to compromise themselves and become slaves to movements at a scale that actually meant something. You can’t even meet that low bar.

You are a fucking waste of oxygen. You are beneath hatred. I would tell you not to write even a single word to me again, but I actively encourage it so that I can block you and I am never troubled to read the pained excretions you pretend are cogent language ever again.

Fuck you, you piece of shit.

Fuck you.

[jmeelee]

Sterek Bingo 2019 • Theme: Wild Card

1

Cora’s twenty-first birthday party is in full swing when the vibration of an incoming text jiggles Derek’s right ass cheek. He pulls his phone from the pocket of his too-tight jeans to find a befuddling text: There myst be sumething wrong w my eyes.

Derek’s future does not include being an Alpha, and that’s fine; he’ll happily leave the politics, management, and difficult decision-making to his older sister, Laura. Instead, he’s been training the last few years—learning languages and studying cultures and meeting werewolves all over the world—to become his pack’s liaison. He’s young, but his good name and reputation are already circulating, so he automatically thinks, this must be a young werewolf in need of help. Plus, it’s no secret to the supernatural community that his beta-shifted eyes are blue, instead of gold.

His thumb’s hovering over the touchscreen when a drunk girl bumps into him, her red solo cup full of cheap beer exploding like a water balloon all over the front of his olive-green henley. “Oops,” she slurs, lids drooping over bloodshot blue eyes. She gropes his soaked pectorals with her bare hands.

Derek’s eyebrows berate her before he heads for the staircase. He’s tired of pseudo-babysitting intoxicated college kids anyway.

By the time he’s showered off the stale booze and changed into pajamas, almost an hour has passed. He grabs his phone off the nightstand to finally reply to his cryptic messenger, and finds a new text: i can’t take them off of u.

What the hell? It wasn’t a cry for help at all; it was a lame pick up line. Derek’s mood sours as he imagines Cora egging one of her immature girlfriends into sending him the terrible come-on. The culprit is probably downstairs right now. He swipes over the message, deleting it, and powers off his cell before climbing into bed, pulling a pillow over his head to drown out the noise.

He’s so done with this day.

2

A week and a half later Derek’s pushing a cart up and down the aisles at the grocery store when his phone chirps. He stares at the flashing number of the unknown contact, wondering why it looks vaguely familiar before he opens the text. Did you invent the airplane? Because you seem Wright for me.

At least there are no typos this time.

He almost deletes the message right away, but the split second he hesitates gives him an excuse to type back. This is clearly Gustave Whitehead erasure and I won’t stand for it.

The return response comes before he can black out his screen. Dude. Are we having our first fight?

Derek doesn’t hesitate this time. Find someone else to annoy.

Rude.

He puts his phone away and staunchly ignores the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

3

He’s already in bed, and would never have heard the vibration except for his supernatural hearing. My name’s Microsoft. How about I crash at your place.

Derek blinks the sleep from his eyes enough to type back, I own a Mac.

In the morning, he sees the response. Harsh dude.

4

You must be a trumpet because you’re making me horny.

Wow. This is your worst one yet.

Is that a challenge, Derek?

NO!

Did it hurt when you fell from the vending machine? Because you a snack!

Please stop.

5

“Derek, answer that or I’m going to punch you in the face,” Laura threatens between spoonfuls of cookie-dough ice cream. The harsh buzzing of his phone sounds like a jackhammer to their sensitive werewolf ears, and it’s disrupting their movie marathon.

If you were a transformer, you’d be Optimus Fine. Oh lord.

“What’s with the sappy smile, big brother?” Cora coos.

Derek schools his face into a scowl. “Nothing.”

She throws the blanket off her lap and lunges for the phone in his hand. A tussle ensues. Derek is older and stronger, but she’s fast, sneaky and not above fighting dirty, and she grips the phone before he knows what happened. “What the hell is this?” She’s screeching with laughter, holding his cell out so Laura can look. “Who’s sending you lame pick-up lines?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” he gripes. “You put her up to this.”

Cora furrows her brow. “Uh, what?”

“The night of your birthday party, the first pick-up line came through. It was someone at your party. I figured you put her up to it as a joke.”

She checks the number again. “The only person I ever gave your number to was Erica, for official pack business. This isn’t Erica’s number.” She grabs her cell off the coffee table and punches in the digits. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Cora laughs so hard her eyes water.

“Who is she?” Laura asks.

“Not a she.” Cora holds out her phone with a shit-eating grin so Derek and Laura can read her contacts. “It’s Stiles Stilinski.”

Terse silence follows her declaration. Then Derek asks, “Who the fuck is Stiles?”

6 & 7

“Forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one…” Derek counts out his squats in a whisper, monitoring his form in the full-length mirror. He feels his phone vibrate, and the grin reflecting back at him is disgusting. He should be ashamed.

He gently places the weight back on the rack when he completes the set and digs the phone from his mesh shorts.

Is your phone in your back pocket? Because that ass is calling me!

Derek honestly can’t say what possesses him to turn around, open his camera app, and hold the phone over his left shoulder. Perfect timing ur not following me r u? he writes back, attaching a photo of his butt. A dude doing kettlebell lunges across the gym gives him the stink eye.

Stiles answers with a string of peach emojis, which Derek understands, and a single unicorn emoji, which he doesn’t.

I know who you are, btw. Stiles Stilinski, the sheriff's kid? Cora figured it out

Usually, the response comes immediately, but Derek’s walking out to his car before he receives two simultaneous replies.

Well since the cat (be gr8ful i didn’t say pussy) is out of the bag

my mother used to tell me to follow my dreams so… where will you be tonight?

Derek sits behind the wheel, staring at his phone, weighing the pros and cons. He’s never gone on a blind date before, and he’s been burned, badly, in the past. Being single is sometimes lonely, but at least it’s safe. He doesn’t want to put a defenseless, unwitting human in harm’s way. His brain keeps supplying him with a list of perfectly rational reasons why he should leave their playful correspondence in the sandbox of cyberspace, but his heart furtively whispers what if.

8 & 9

There’s a live band at the bar, guitar player crooning a popular rock ballad while Derek nurses a beer for show. He checks his smartwatch for the seventh time in a span of three minutes and happens to catch the message notification as it pops up.

Do you know CPR? You better learn because ur taking my breath away

He spins around, searching for guys on their phones, frustrated to find almost every man in the bar staring at their screen. A baby-faced guy plops down on the open stool next to him as Derek’s eyes scan the crowd.

“Scott bet me I wouldn’t be able to start a conversation with the most beautiful person in the room.” Derek glances back, startled, to find a generous mouth smiling at him. “What should we do with his money?”

His first thought: HOT. His second thought: young. “Tell me you’re twenty-one,” Derek greets him. “Actually, please tell me you’re legal.”

Stiles dramatically crosses his heart, eyes wide. “I only look seventeen, I promise. It’s a blessing and a curse.” He holds out a sturdy but slender, long-fingered hand. “I’m Stiles. It’s nice to officially meet you.”

Derek takes his outstretched hand in a firm grip and swears he feels a zing when their skin makes contact. It’s official; he’s been single too long. “Derek. Let me buy you a drink, and you can tell me how you got my number in the first place.”

Stiles winks as Derek flags the bartender. “A gentleman never reveals his secrets.”

“Gentleman?” Derek, cold, fresh beer in hand, arches a brow. “Based on some of the texts I’ve received, I’m not sure gentleman is the correct term.”

Stiles clinks his drink against Derek’s. “Touché.” He eyes Derek over the lip of his brown bottle. “So, did you lace your pilsner with wolfsbane, or do you enjoy the taste?”

Derek, mid-sip, spits his beer onto the bartop. “What the hell?” he sputters, mopping at the mess with the world’s least absorbent cocktail napkin.

Stiles calmly takes a sip. “Come on, dude. My father’s the sheriff, and this town is literally a supernatural shit-show. If that wasn’t enough, my best friend is Scott McCall.”

“McCall?” Derek leans closer, soggy napkins forgotten, to whisper, “The True Alpha?” Derek’s met Scott at a few local pack gatherings.

“Yup,” Stiles replies. “He was bitten by a rogue werewolf when we were sixteen. So you could say I’ve been a little-” He makes exaggerated air quotes- “involved in the supernatural scene the past few years.”

Derek leans back, accessing Stiles in a new light: deceptively lean physique, handsome, impish face, the ability to make Derek laugh, and take him by surprise. The laundry list of reasons not to do this quickly goes up in smoke in the face of being able to show his true nature to a partner. Stiles smiles like he knows exactly what Derek is thinking.

“So, what do you say? Do I pass the test? Should we give going on an official first date a shot?”

“One condition,” Derek demands, holding up his index finger. “You’re not allowed to use a single pick up line all night.”

Stiles squawks, tossing long arms into the air. “You might as well ask me not to breathe! Or the Mets not to lose!”

“Chicken?” he asks, leaning into Stiles’ space. Derek quirks a brow and lifts his chin, eyes drawn like a magnet to Stiles’ tongue when it sneaks out to wet his lips.

“Hell no. Challenge accepted. Eight pm Saturday night.” An impish grin. “I’m gonna date you so hard, Hale.”

10

As far as (official) first dates go, it’s pretty damn amazing. The conversation flows as easily as the wine at dinner, and Stiles’ running jokes and commentary during the shitty movie doesn’t bother Derek at all. He’s thrilled to find their easy banter translates to real life, after weeks of electronic flirtation.

“Hey,” Derek whispers as they say good-night at Stiles’ apartment door. He wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist, pulling him close. He brushes a kiss, feather-light, across Stiles’ mouth and smirks. “Are you a magician? Because when I’m with you, everyone else disappears.”

Stiles leans back, arms still locked around Derek’s shoulders. “What the hell, man! You said no pick-up lines!”

Derek tuts. “I said you couldn’t use any. I never made the same promise.”

Stiles’ eyes narrow. “Serious question?”

“Shoot.”

“Will there be a second date?”

A second, a third, and more, if Derek has any say in the matter. “Absolutely.”

Stiles’ grin is slightly manic as he untangles slim fingers from Derek’s hair. “Well then, there’s probably something I should show you.” He holds up a hand in front of Derek’s face and snaps his fingers. A spark of light fizzles to life before his eyes, emanating from Stiles’ palm, and burning ozone singes the fine hairs inside his nose.

“Huh,” Derek replies, dumbly. “I did not see that coming.”

Stiles’ coy smile ignites something hot inside him. “I have some other party tricks I could show you if you want to come in?”

Derek leans forward again, chasing the bright glimmer of magic between them, the one that’s been there the whole time. “Oh, absolutely.”

——

For @evanesdust and based on THIS PROMPT by @faladrast