#just learn some if statements and basic shit

[cynlikesdanganronpa]

Hhhhheelllooooooo I see you wanted hirojim hc asks so I am here to provideeeee :D

hcs abt silly domestic stuffs, Hi roam it's social media presence in general, and their post canon life?

they probably tried long distance for a bit, and it probably didn’t work, so hiroaki just… kinda… moved. he has money-

anyways, they definitely have a cat. it probably is a little spoiled thing that bites people and is mean, so ojima probably tells hiroaki “the cat acts like you.” because the cat kinda does act like him. they probably adopted another cat at some point, and it’s probably a really cuddly cat, and the two cats probably are really cuddly and hiroaki pretends to be all nonchalant and swag or smthn but in reality he’s going all “awwwww little cat babies!!”

hiroaki probably mass-makes outfits for ojima and ojima’s just like “this is too many clothes for any living being please stop making so many outfits…” and hiroaki is like “nonsense i’m already sewing a new jacket.”

i don’t think either of them can cook which means they kinda have to learn how to cook which is basically just “HOW DID YOU FUCK THAT UP?!” “I DONT KNOW I ZONED OUT” and then them ordering pizza.

hiroaki probably starts posting silly pictures of ojima on his socials and tagging ojima (whom he forced to make an account, his only post is a selfie of him and hiroaki) and he never really made any announcement that he has a boyfriend so his fans are all confused and shit until hiroaki posts a selfie with ojima with him kissing ojima on the cheek and that’s when his fans figure out. ojima probably got a shitload of a hate train for that, but like, he has ONE post, and he does NOT gaf.

at some point he probably ended up getting stalked, and him AND hiroaki ended up making public statements and legal threats, which made the stalking *mostly* stop.

their sides of their room are so different because ojima’s is drawings and him and his brothers and hiroaki’s is posters and shit.

i’m probably gonna repost this with more hcs soon but that’s all for now

[mardmeehanabadi]

much of my time as a computer engineer is spent learning that I actually have no idea how computers work

[sadesluvr]

FEEL. — mickey 17

somewhat inspired by @darkoies doctor c.ai! (NSFW)

w/c: 2.3K

As he felt his body temperature slowly begin to drop, Mickey knew that he’d been cloned again.  

He’d grown to accept that there was nothing like climatising to the perfect 20°C of the lab, sometimes laying there for hours with nothing but a sheet to cover his modesty – only if he’d been lucky enough to be attended to that quickly. Mickey seemed to be reborn in a lab full of people, yet he was always alone. 

Blinking, he fought to adjust himself to the sterile curing lights, expecting to be faced with Dorothy or one of the other scientists. Instead, he was met with warmth; rounder, fuller features staring down at him with a curious look and a gentle smile. He'd certainly never seen you before.

“...Vitals are surprisingly low,” the voice spoke. “Is this normal?” 

Instinctively Mickey opened his mouth to answer, clamping it shut once he realised you weren’t speaking to him, but a fellow doctor across the lab. He hoped you hadn’t noticed. He felt a bit silly. 

“I’m just going to put this in, ok? It’s a small chip to help us track your endocrine system, hormones, endorphins – those kinds of things. You shouldn’t feel a thing, it’s virtually weightless.” You spoke again, eyes occasionally making contact as you glanced down to reassure him, but more focused on dabbing at his skin with a wipe.

Mickey took a short breath, having not particularly grown accustomed to needles throughout any of his seventeen iterations. 

“Uh-huh... Why do I -” 

“All done.” You grinned, withdrawing the tool with a smile.

He couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed, selfishly wishing a flare up of some kind, anything that could get him to spend just a few more minutes longer with you. Anything was better than a meaningless afternoon within the four walls of his room. Pursing his lips, he pushed himself to sit upright, allowing for him to get a better view of you.  

“How do you feel?”  

“Fine...” he began, wringing his hands. “Though in my position I’ve learned that’s not much.” 

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to be an Expendable. I admire your bravery,” you began, leaning in, your faces a few centimetres apart. “Chin up.” 

Goosebumps peppered his skin as he felt your breath on his cheek, the warmth of your hands felt even through your plastic gloves as you held his face in place, running a torch over his eyes. 

“It’s not all bad,” he chuckled nervously. “I get to keep my memories.” 

“I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. There are definitely a few things I’d like to forget...” 

“Like what?” he questioned, hoping that you wouldn't find his prying weird. He’d never get this far with any other doctor on the team. 

“Bad hairstyles for one,” you said with a soft sigh, stepping away from the man to enter something into a computer. "My entire college years, amongst other things.” 

“I bet they weren’t that bad,” he shrugged, brushing a wet, messy strand of his mousy brown hair from his eyes. “Nice girls like you definitely had a better time than me.” 

The statement seemed to illicit a smile.  

“Well,” you huffed as you scribbled something down on a clipboard. “Nice girls tend to finish last. That’s why I’m here. Other than the pay, being a doctor on Earth is pretty shit.” 

Mickey grinned, and this time let out a genuine, audible laugh, so unrestrained that his voice broke in the process. You hummed in amusement, presumably at the fact that the man had taken such glee in an offhand comment, before going back to your job and listing some rather important things about the tests being run.  

By that point Mickey had naturally zoned out, having heard all the doctors’ spiel before. What did it matter if hypertension could cause blackouts, heart attacks or death – he would just be reprinted anyway. In a fucked-up way, nothing really mattered... In what he thought would’ve been basic empathy, he hoped you could see him for who he was - less of a crash dummy and more of a human.  

- 

Marshall was fuming.

And by that nature, the whole lab was pissed off with you. 

The past few experiments had been complete failures – not due to misguided hypothesises, but because Mickey was a shitty lab rat. If you could even call him that.  

Over the few weeks that 17 had been cloned, nothing had gone to plan. Half the time, he’d passed out before research could begin, or hadn’t even been deemed fit to work. You’d only seen him in passing, being wheeled about on a table or through plexiglass – but you knew something was wrong…the numbers told you so. 

It was difficult. On Earth there were too many patients for you to really care about them in the way your cared for Mickey, but reading his past files and listening here-say from the other workers was enough to sympathise with him. From what Dorothy had told you, his past iterations had never been so stubborn, which was why it didn’t make sense for him to act up now. 

Arkady thought it to be a fault in the tech, that somehow he’d reprinted wrong…but you knew better.  

It was obvious he’d grown fond of you. You’d caught him staring multiple times, a distant smile dotted across his face as he carved out your visage through the haze of the testing room. Sometimes, he’d even wave. Discreetly, you did back. 

To be fair, you liked him too.

Naturally, it made sense for you to ‘deal’ with him. You clutched your clipboard to your chest as you walked down the empty corridors to a distant room, curtly waving away the guards as you entered. 

The brown haired man perked up, and if you weren’t facing expulsion – or death – from Marshall himself then you would’ve made a quip about it. 

“Oh - I, uh...They just shoved me in here, I have no idea what’s this all about —“ Mickey stammered, eyes glancing around the room frantically as if to search for a source of reason himself. You watched as he shrunk in on himself, seemingly realising from your crossed arms and pursed lips that you weren’t in a generous mood. 

“You shouldn’t be surprised. You haven’t been eating as much. Or sleeping,” you began, shoes tapping against the floor as you strolled towards him. He seemed to be trying (and failing) to divert his gaze from you, eyes as wide and watery as ever, and it occurred to you that it felt like a mean teacher punishing a schoolboy. “They wanted to throw you in the cell, but I convinced them to lend you to me under the name of science.” 

He nodded shyly and peered up at you from his bangs. 

“Our research is compromised if you go into a mission on two hours of sleep and low blood sugar. Then we look bad, and Marshall blows his gasket.” 

Mickey itched uncomfortably, contemplating something before the edges of his lips curved up into a small, jaunty smile. “...Isn’t there some kind of shot for that?” 

“That isn’t the point, Mickey,” you chided, ignoring his silly attempt at a joke. “Not everything can be fixed by a drug. We may be miles away from Earth, but most things are still down to basic biology. You’re still human.” 

The man sighed and cast his gaze to the floor, so much so that you couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you into trouble with Marshall. If you let me out of here, I’ll tell him it’s my fault.” 

You fought to hold back a small smile. Here he was, essentially a complete stranger – a literal lab experiment - and yet was ready to take a bullet for you. It baffled you as to why nobody else saw the gentleness of humanity in Mickey – probably because no one was willing to give him a chance. Being labelled ‘Expendable’ would do that, all too ironic that he was the most important on the ship. To the whole regime, really.  

“There’s no need to do that...” you hummed. “I’m just annoyed I’ve overlooked things.” 

“…Like?” 

“Happiness, for one,” you began, slowly striding around the room to place your clipboard on a small table. “And attention. We tend to forget that we need it.” 

Mickey swayed his head, seemingly taking in what you were saying as he watched you like a hawk. As if his body had been pulled taught with a string, his back visibly straightened as you stopped in-front of him, your shins touching the tips of his thigh. Swallowing, he angled his head to look up at you, and your gazes met. 

“Be honest with me, Mickey…Did you stop eating just so you could see me?” 

He swallowed again, briefly diverting his gaze before looking back at you, running his tongue over his lips. Mickey was always cute, but he looked especially delectable in this angle. 

“Y-yeah…” he stammered. “I really didn’t mean to get you in trouble —“ 

“Why did you do that? Did you want my attention?” 

“Uh –“ 

“Do you like me?” 

His answered came in the form of a shy nod and an uneasy grip on your legs. In the best way, you were going to ruin him.  

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “You can touch me. I want you to.” 

Reaching out to embrace your torso, Mickey found himself softly stunned as you pulled away, comforted with the sight of you removing your lab coat and aptly peeling off your jumpsuit, discarding it across the cold floor. 

The man wasted no time in latching onto you, rubbing his face over your bare skin as he pressed wet, impassioned kisses against your stomach, making his way passed your bellybutton and towards your underwear.  

You threw your head back as you pulled him closer, placing your hands on top of his as he roamed your body, lithe fingers kneading the shape of your thighs and ass. In any other circumstance, you would’ve been trying to pleasure Mickey – and you were sure you would eventually – but you got the feeling that he only ever wanted to make you happy. 

Your pleasure was his pleasure. He was useful that way. 

Mickey let out a soft whistle from his nose, momentarily pulling away from getting his fix. 

“You smell like strawberries…” he murmured before nestling into you. Who would’ve thought that the perfume you’d grabbed from Earth right before jumping on this metal container would awaken something in him? 

Grinning, a purr escaped your lips as you lowered yourself onto Mickey’s thighs, one hand on his chest as you gently pushed him onto the bed, his back springing up ever so slightly from the recoil. He looked so beautiful like this; all desperate and wanting, eager to taste your lips. 

Pressing your lips against his, you gave him what he wanted. Though you’d never underestimated him, you were rather surprised by how skilfully his lips moved against your own, barely missing a beat as his hands worked your way up to your breasts. 

He let out a moan as he gave them a squeeze through your bra, eyes darting frantically between your chest and the sight below him – your ass grinding perfectly against his bulge. 

“You’re so sweet, Mickey, do you know that?” you teased, popping up to quickly push down his pants. “I hate the way they treat you.” 

“You aren’t like them…” he murmured. “You’re perfect.” 

If it wasn’t for hormones clouding your judgment, your heart would’ve stopped upon questioning the melancholy statement. You’d only treated him as any good doctor would – with respect – and yet he was comparing you to some kind of deity. 

Mickey stopped you with a firm grasp on your forearm, just as you began to reach down into his boxers. You were mildly shocked, almost expecting him to be completely passive in the act, but wasn’t adverse to the offer. In fact you rather liked it. 

“Let me.” He whispered. 

You obliged. 

Mickey let out a loud whimper as he sunk into you, his cock bottoming out in you nicely. He was average sized, but it completed you. You felt every pulse and twitch as you moved your hips along him, coating pink cock in a shiny film. 

He’d pawed at your chest now, popping a breast from inside the material and putting it into his mouth, sucking and licking at your nipple. You moaned at the contact, though quickly but down on your lip to suppress any more noises. At the end of the day, you were still technically a doctor on duty. 

Then again, Marshall was so weird that he’d probably enjoy your gratuitous display – limbs flailing and Mickey’s hair clung to his forehead from ecstasy. The ship was cold, but heat filled your body, tingling from your loins and rising through to your cheeks.  

You were so preoccupied with Mickey’s visual proof of euphoria that you’d barely noticed that his hands had made their way to your lower body, his hands holding the sides of your ass in position as you writhed against him. 

“Shit…” you stammered. “You’re so good…Don’t stop…” 

Naively, the man shook his head, staring up at you with puppy eyes. In an effort to impress you, he bucked his hips up into your wet pussy, squelching sounds louder and prominent than before. He seemed to be hitting your spot effortlessly. 

“Beautiful. God, you’re an angel…” he sighed, his squeaky, yet raspy accent as prominent as ever. He sounded like he was from New York. 

You’d ask him about it some day. 

As Mickey’s pace slowed, and your walls clenched around him, you could tell that you were both close. Honestly, you didn’t know whether you’d flop into his arms or if he would cave in on you, but somehow, even millions of miles from Earth, you grounded each-other.  

[onion-souls]

I remember reading that in some of Lovecraft's later letters, he had a profound change in his racism and otherwise unpleasantness. Do you know what I'm talking about? Might you know where to find those specific correspondences?

(Going to be citing letters throughout this, which can easily be found by googling Lovecraft letter to [named correspondent] [date]. Don't have time at the moment to hyperlink everything.) I wouldn't say profound, but he mellowed out. His most extreme racism shows up largely in his 1910s to 20s writings, which is when he was talking about a "Teutonic master race" of which the Anglo-Saxon was the superior breed, the genetic inferiority of the Celts, and praising the KKK. This started to diminish largely due to exposure to people. He learned he was partially Welsh, and he began a deep friendship via correspondence with Robert E. Howard, who, like many Irish-Americans of the time, had a strong connection to a fantastical image of his Celtic ancestors revived through the late Victorian imagination. His anti-Celtic statements were always something of an affectation of British Imperial attitudes rather than anything that really made sense for a turn of the century Rhode Islander, and they were the first thing to fall away. His antisemitism also shifted after his meeting with his wife of seventeen years, Sonia Greene, and friendship with Robert Bloch; apparently he would still say dumb shit but they were quick to call him out on it. In his November 8, 1934 letter writer John Vernon Shea, he expresses embarrassment on some of his older and then still lingering views and specifically asks Shea not to quote them at Bloch. Possibly the most influential figure in his social circle, however, was James Ferdinand Morton, Jr., an anarchist political writer, Baha'i convert, and NAACP member frequently who took Lovecraft to task for his racism and basically helped him see that the KKK was a terrorist organization. Lovecraft had hideous views but he was also a rather soft sort - not from an anti-racist angle, but actual violence was a thuggish act unsuited of a gentleman. This was also what was causing some of his shifts in his antisemitic statements in that 1934-37 period; he was still bigoted, but didn't like the news that coming out of Europe.

But he also never dropped his anti-Black racism, and I would recommend looking into his correspondence to Morton, particularly his March 23, 1931 letter, where he dismisses Franz Boas' well-evidenced skepticism towards the then fashionable anthropological racial divisions. He was willing to change and even deconstruct his views on everyone else, but kind of put his foot down when it came to Black people. By 1934 (and note that he died on March 15, 1937), his attitudes had largely shifted to a kind of Anglo-Saxon Cultural Supremacism mixed with his growing sympathies with non-Marxist Utopian socialism (somewhat of the Edwardian progressive H.G. Wells sort), best expressed in his November 22, 1934 letter to poet Natalie H. Wooley [Collected with his letters to Robert Bloch] and a January 18, 1931 letter to Morton . He basically started to ease up on the genetic racism (though the anti-Black racism never went away, at least not in anything recorded his writing) and pivoted to a notion that anyone could plausibly achieve an equal level of civilization as the WASP/"Nordic," but he still had a strong streak of racial/societal separatism, expressing a distrust of "cultural mongrelism" as late as January '31 [to Morton]. The one thing I would push back on is the common statement that he was unusually racist and antisemitic for his time, which really isn't true considering that his most extreme statements were also platforms of mainstream political parties in the 10s to 40s, and the pulp fiction published alongside his works were pretty much just as shitty, if not worse. It's just that he and Howard are some of the few pulp magazine writers from the period that we still read, so the cringe lingers. He was always a bigot, despite some evolution, but what's particularly interesting about him is that he was willing to maintain a social circle of people who would call him out on it. Complicated guy, but I think a lot of this is wondering what he would have become if he lived to see the 40s to 60s and kind of hoping that he would have kept changing.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER EIGHT

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @h34rtsformilli @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l

warnings substance use, infidelity, sexual content

kalena speakss 🪽! good morningggg ;) song for this chapter is BPW by jasmine sullivan, you’ll know when to play it!

June 2025 — Los Angeles, California

The lights are low in the studio this evening, as per usual whenever I’m here. I’m not the type to have multiple people in my space, usually it’s just me, Kaylee, and my producer. But tonight I get to be wonderfully distracted by Page Madison Bueckers.

Her phone is propped up on a bottle of Patron, some audio playing from it as she makes a TikTok in front of me. I’m fighting a laugh in the midst of rolling a blunt, because everything they say about her lack of rhythm seems to be true.

“Oh you’re annoying.” She laughs, picking up on my obvious amusement and mushing my face with her fingers.

“Hips don’t lie.” I giggle. “C’mon, no way you thought I wasn’t gon’ make fun of you.”

“You a bully. Ion know why I’m friends with you.”

“Because I’m just so pretty.” I reply jokingly.

Paige rolls her eyes at my statement, retaking her original seat in the rolling chair next to mine and shoving her phone in the pocket of her black Essentials sweatshorts.

If there’s any color I love on Paige, it’s definitely black. The darkness perfectly accentuates the tan of her skin and the bright blond of her hair and the blue of her eyes. She’s been wearing it more lately. Which I find odd, considering the blazing heat in California this summer.

I asked her to be here. No other reason than being alone in the studio is usually a recipe for disaster. She took up my offer gratefully, almost too grateful but I was probably overthinking it.

“You gonna let me hear some unreleased shit, or what?” Paige asked. Her chair slides closer to mine until our arms are touching. Our noses are close too, my eyes boring into hers. Purple rimmed wide framed glasses sit on her nose, making them look bigger.

I look away quickly, leaning towards the monitor in front of me. “I can, yeah.” I tell her, setting the blunt on the rolling tray. “If you leak it tho’ I’d have to kill you.” I joke as my eyes pass through all the possible unreleased and unfinished songs on the file.

I watch her take the substance into her own hands, packing and rolling it in places I didn’t get to reach yet. I would normally be pissed off, watching someone else roll my blunt as if I couldn’t do it myself. But the way her tongue darts out to lick it sealed, pretty and pink and soft, then her perfect fucking face has me mesmerized.

“Who taught you how to roll?” I laugh, honestly a bit shocked.

“I was in college for five years, you think I didn’t learn?” Paige looks back at me, fingers still sealing it like a second nature.

“You probably shouldn’t tell people you were in school for that long.” I snide and her elbow meets my ribs.

I take it from her hands gracefully when she finishes, putting it between my slightly chapped lips. Paige takes the lighter, striking the flame a few times until it lights and bringing the flame to the end of the blunt. Her blues are basically eating up my soul, the tip of her tongue peaking out slightly in concentration until I take the first hit.

The weed fills my lungs fast, and I take the blunt away from my lips, smoke clouding the air. Paige was still in season, and due to her recent shooting outbursts, subject to multiple rounds of drug testing. She wasn’t smoking with me tonight, rather taking a few shots from the liquor not too far away.

I laugh at the thought, “they really been testing you?”

She nods, the light falling from her hands and back onto the desk. She’s so close, I can smell every note of her cologne. Lavender, some cedarwood.

“Literally this morning. As soon as I stepped off the court last night I got an email saying I got an appointment in the morning.” She chuckled.

To say Paige had been on a tear this month would be an understatement. 20 point games, double-doubles, off of crazy efficiency too. She’s shooting 57% from the field and 42% from three, but last night she shot almost perfect, literally, 10/10 on her first shots 13/15 on the game.

For someone who claimed to not be a big basketball fan, she has me watching and remembering her stats like i’ve been doing it for years.

“Okay, music.” She starts. “If you had to make a collab album with one artist, who would it be?”

I sit back and bit for her question, but the answer really wasn’t too difficult. “Frank Ocean, easily.”

“Really? I thought you’d say Drake or sum.” She chuckles.

“Him too!” I responded. “But Frank doesn’t make music with just anybody. If I get that, I’ll know I made.” I shrug. It’s a dream that’s a bit out of touch, he hasn’t put out music in years, but one can wish.

“Imma manifest that Frank feature for you, angel.” She smiles. Her hand reaches to brush my hair out of my line of sight before gesturing with it towards the monitor, “which one can I hear?”

I skim past all the music loaded up on the screen before clicking on a file, all the colorful waves pop up individually. The vocals, ad-libs, all the snares and drums. To me, it’s normal. I wasn’t a producer but after making music for so long, the technicalities become less and less overwhelming and more interesting.

“Wow.” Paige breathes.

“It’s a lot, I know.”

“Is it finished?” She asks me. I nod, shaking my hand side to side as to non verbally tell her ‘sorta’. The title reads BPW and yes it pretty much is finished, but I’m a perfectionist and I feel like most songs can always have more.

“You wanna hear it?” I question while looking her way. I take another drag from the blunt. “It’s kinda nasty tho’. The label only let me put two freaky songs on there, so this one got pushed back.”

“Only? You’re a freak, bro.” Paige replies. “Lemme hear it.”

The instrumental echos first when I hit play. Violin and bass, and then I remember I tried to avoid the piano for this song since most of my discography already is over taken by it. The intro is long, when I look over at Paige and she’s listening intently, I start to get nervous. “It’s still missing some thi—”

Her finger meets my lips, indirectly telling me to shut up. I sit there shocked. It’s soft, her finger, sliding down my bottom lip until her hand rests in my lap. It’s like i’m not even there, just another object in the room as she got consumed by the music.

I didn’t think I could be more turned on.

It’s the reason I write in the first place, the reaction and the feeling of absorption from my lyrics or my sound. But not many people around me get that. Paige so clearly does. It makes me feel warm, taken over with emotion because she sits there so focused, waiting for that first vocal.

—

Well shit, I think to myself when I finally hear the lyrics.

Maraye is crazy. She’s crazy for having me sit here and listen to her sing about sex while she wears those tight ass shorts, just days after telling me we are just friends. I can’t do anything about it.

My head slowly bows back and forth along with the sound of her voice. This song doesn’t deserve to be unreleased, it deserves to be in my library, on that playlist.

And even though we ain’t official

You know I ain't no regular girl

So tell me whenever I'm witcha

I got the best pussy in the—

I stare at her in awe, not just because of what I’m hearing but the way the smoke passes through her lips has me squeezing my legs together. My hand still rests in her lap lazily, I can’t will it to move, I don’t think she wants me to either.

It’s clear to me I have no self control. The other night, just minutes after dropping her off at home, I said I was done. Julian was a dickhead but that’s Maraye’s dickhead and I needed to respect it. Then here she goes, singing about how good she is in bed, and looking this fucking good. I need her. In all definitions of the word, I need her bad.

I stand up, needing some sort of space between us before I’m ripping every single thread of clothing on her body. I take a comfortable seat on the edge of the control panel, bowing my head with the melody. My heart rapidly beats in my chest, palms growing sweaty.

“You’re really good at this.” I breathe.

The song comes to an end, she presses a few buttons on her monitor that I don’t really care for. “Thank you, love.”

I force a large amount of oxygen into my lungs. Why did she have to say that? I was already struggling just being in the same room. Those damn eyes turning me into a mess between my thighs and here she goes.

A giggle escapes Maraye’s lips as she takes another hit. “Are you drunk?”

I shake my head. “Nah, ma. This tequila is hittin’ though.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm what?”

“Nothing.” Maraye mumbles. “Whatcha think about the song?” She asks me. She scoots the chair closer to me, wheels rolling against the hardwood until she’s seated between my legs.

“Only you could make singing ‘bout sex sound so perfect.” I comment. She really did sound angelic, the nickname so fitting. My arms are crossed over my chest as I size her up. It’s the first time I get a good look at her tattoos, normally I’m looking at her eyes or her thighs or shamelessly her tits. But the ink down her arm makes me crazy.

There’s one in particular that catches my eye. Linework of three faces overlapped, one blue, one green, and one red. I have no idea of the meaning, or what it stands for but the pop of color on her skin eats me alive.

Maraye shifts in her seat and a smile inches on her lips. Her hips moving in a way that intrigues me. “You alright there, angel?”

“I’m just fine, superstar. You?” She poses. I reach forward, taking the blunt from her hand and taking a drag. The way it clouds my brain let me know that I was not about to leave this room without making a move on her. I set it on the tray to my right, listing to her as she hums, “that song looked like it riled you up. I’m observant.”

I pull her in closer by the arm of the chair, if I couldn’t flirt I would sure as hell have fun teasing her. “I’m observant too. You been holding these legs together all night. Why?”

“Are you minding my business?”

“Yeah, ma. Now what?”

She doesn’t respond and now I want to know what she’s thinking. I want to get everything out in the open, all the things she wants to say but holds back on.

“The line is paper thin, Madison.”

“Like I asked, why you been sittin’ like this?” I ask again.

I know what I want her to say. I want her to tell me it’s me. That I got her so turned on that she’s sitting here with her legs practically glued together because it’s morally wrong to act on how she’s feeling. Even tell me that she wants to rip my clothes off as badly as I want to rip hers off.

Her foot taps against the floor, echoing off the walls alongside our in sync breathing. “I-uh. M’just crossed. Leave me alone” She begs, voice low almost like she’s shy. It’s cute.

“Jus’ crossed, baby? Y’sure?”

I don’t think i’ve ever been so forward with Maraye than I am right now. Everything running through my body right now is like a shot of adrenaline.

“Paige! You can’t be doing this to me right now.” She tosses her head back frustratedly. I’m stifling a laugh from where I stand. I knew I could get her flustered but this was too easy.

She looks back up at me, her eyes dark and slightly glazed over. The weed has her eyes rimed with red and oddly enough the smell it exudes from her is incredible. Nearly as intoxicating as the substance itself.

“Doin’ what?” I chuckle. “I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable, angel. You look tense.”

“You make me tense.”

I fake a pout. “Lemme fix it.”

“Why do you insist on not having a boundary or respecting mine?”

“I don’t think we’ve ever had boundaries, Raye.” I point out.

My hands instinctively reach for her own, standing her up so I’m not longer craning my neck to look at her. Still, the good four inches I have on her makes her eye me eagerly. Looking up like she’s giving in. “Paige we can’t.” Maraye sighs.

“So tell me to stop.” I muse.

“What?”

I trail my hands to her body. The left holding onto her hip while the other wraps around her waist. She doesn’t even try to fight me off, instead I swear she falls into me more. Her hand holds onto my bicep, avoiding eye contact with me.

I notice it. Every single act that is out of her normal. The stuttering and looking everywhere but me. She’s shy. I’ll take it as a good thing, that my actions have her reacting like a school girl.

“Lemme get you right.” I murmur.

Maraye’s mouth opens, then closes immediately after. My head pushes towards her, right where her neck meets her shoulder. I get a good whiff of her Chanel perfume.

“This is so wrong, P.” She whispers.

“Tell me,” I start with my lips up against her ear, “to stop.”

“The cameras.”

I look around the control panel, before spotting the on/off switch under the table. I flick it off, the red light by the camera in the corner blinks off.

“I—”

“Oh my God, just shut up.” I hum and it’s a matter of seconds before our lips are touching, moving against one another in sync.

It’s different than the first time. That one was slow, like we were still trying to figure it out. But this one? This one is hungry, fast and familiar. I can make out the taste of weed on her lips, tequila in the back of her mouth when my tongue reaches that spot.

Maraye’s hands are in my hair, tugging it between her fingers all hurried like I could slip away. Mine are everywhere. her hips, her thighs, her ass. I squeeze it before smoothing a hand over the area. A groan slips past my lips and into her mouth.

I’m pushing us away from the table, past all the chairs and wires until her back hits the leather couch behind us. I pull back, and her mouth is sucking on my tongue. I swear God himself would have to claw me off of her after that.

“Wanna take your clothes off.” I pant. My kisses move to her jaw, licking it before moving down her neck. I’m searching for that sweet spot, and when she moans in my ear I know I’ve found it.

It’s quite easily the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Maraye is quite easily the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Her stunning brown skin and curls that tickle my face with each suck I give to her neck. The septum in her nose and tattoos down her arm. To make things harder for me she smells fucking incredible, and the feel of her plush thighs in my hands reduces me to nothing.

My knee meets the center of her legs, that spot that makes her arch into me. I reach for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head and it hangs off the arm of the couch.

“I wanna fuck you right here, angel.” I mutter against her warm skin. Maraye cups my face, pulling my lips back to hers eagerly. She licks at my bottom lip before slipping it into my mouth. I swallow up every moan she gives me, so damn desperate for more. My hand grips her breast that unfortunately is confined in that black sports bra she wears.

“Paige, fuck.” She gasps against me. Her hand leaves my face to pull my glasses off, they’re unbelievably foggy and I didn’t even notice, too busy tonguing her down to care. She holds them before kissing me again and biting my bottom lip.

“You’re fuckin’ nasty.” I sigh, pulling her closer.

Maraye moans my name when I push my knee deeper into her cunt. I can feel just how wet she is against my bare skin.

“Lemme have you, ma.” I grunt, suddenly felling very hot in the UConn hoodie I have on. “Show me how good that pussy is, baby. You said it’s the best, yeah? Prove it.”

It’s carnal the way I need her. Like my sole purpose for being put on this earth was to please her. I’ll do it. Happily. Hell, I’m begging for it.

“Fuck. God, P.” She hiccups, letting my hands travel wherever they can reach. They settle on her hips, playing with the waistband of her shorts while my tongue continues to clash with hers. God, it’s messy. Saliva sticky on my chin.

I’m about to dig into her shorts when the door handle fumbles. I sigh gratefully that it’s locked but then I hear it, the clicking.

—

The fact that I have to fight with myself on whether or not I should push Paige off of me is very telling of my behavior. Someone is messing with the lock on the door, so with what leftover strength I have, I pull away from Paige and push her back off of me.

She reaches for my face and wipes the saliva from my lips, giving me one more chaste kiss before sitting back on the opposite end of the couch. I search for my shirt, which has now made it’s way to the floor. By the time I toss it over my head and hand Paige her glasses back and fluff my hair so it is naturally falling over the hickeys I assume Paige has left on my neck, the door is swinging open.

“God damn, Raye. You coul— oh. I didn’t know you had someone else in here.”

It’s Kaylee, which makes me let out quite possibly the world’s biggest sigh of relief. I play with my bottom lip, hoping she can’t point out how swollen it is from Paige biting it.

Her taste, like cherries and a bit of tequila, has completely overpowered any other taste previously in my mouth. She’s taken over my entire body.

“Hey.” Paige greets her, awkwardly clearing her throat.

Kaylee smiles and waves before walking to the controls. She drops her bag in the seat I had just occupied earlier. She stands still, then looks up in the corner, the light by the camera’s that are almost always on suddenly off.

She flips the switch before turning to look at the two of us.

“Huh. Someone turned the camera’s off.” She comments.

“Weird.” I reply.

Really weird.

[sansculottides]

playing disco elysium for the first time felt so familiar because it was made by communists. i kept getting the feeling of - i see you! i know you! every time i came across encyclopedia worldbuilding checks and recognized the tools of historical materialism brilliantly used. i wince when i see people describe DE as just being ironic about communism or whatever - no! this is the most communist game ive ever played!

sometimes i see people point to the deserter's character as evidence that DE isn't truly a communist work, but i don't think the deserter is meant to be a paragon of communism in the game. he's a revolutionary stuck in the past and that is his grave error. "The material base for an uprising has ended," "The historical condition for a revolutionary opportunity has passed. It will not come back anymore. However hard I try, whatever I do." but everything you've seen the game proves his statement wrong. DE's world still has the objective conditions for revolution because the working masses are sick of all the ruling order's shit, and there are plentiful opportunities to develop the subjective forces as we see in the communist quest that young people are willing to continue the communist struggle. but the deserter cant see that from his position and his trauma - ultimately this is what makes him fail as a communist because he has let go of the basic principles: that world is always changing; that change is made by people, through class struggle; that a communist must always be grounded and alert of their own material context.

the scene in the communist quest where you get through to steban and it tells you that "you're witnessing his ironic armor melt before you" - i think that was the devs taking their ironic mask off, too. i believe that because steban's reasons for his communism are the same as mine. we have to struggle even if it's hard and even if they kill us because this is what keeps us human. to struggle for freedom is the next best thing to actually being free. to fight for communism is to fight for the future. it is not about being imprisoned by failures of the past. in fact it IS about failure - because the movement is the working class's school in the struggle for power and we need to learn from each failure and move forward.

i just know that if my comrades and i were somehow in a room with the devs and we had to sing the internationale, we would all know the words. in different languages, but we'll sing the same melody and when we get to the part, the word "international" will be sung in unison. do you get me? i think disco elysium is to some young game-savvy communists of the world today as "what is to be done" was to lenin's generation. something something international communist solidarity...

[communist-hatsunemiku]

We could make a whole new religion based on Miku... I NEED SOME IDEAS FOR IT AND A NAME. I originally thought, Hatsunisim or Mikuism but give me ideas.

Idk if you are sorta new to my blog but yeah I'm basically building an internet following so I can launch my Miku Miku religion. I'm like, sort of fucking around when I say that, but am definitely interested in Finding Out, as the kids say.

The tenets of Mikuism are sort of nebulous atp, because I'm conciously trying to avoid the obvious path, which is "christianity but with Miku". A lot of the "Miku is a goddess" sentiment is christianity-coded, and I don't necessarily resent that! Art of Miku as a saint, art of Her hanging out with jesus, Miku as an angel, etc. is all cool and good, and I really love the fact that this idea of Miku as a god is already baked in for a lot of people, but I want to make Mikuism more than just christian shit with a new coat of paint. She has so much more to offer!

Also there is a bit of a gap between communism and express religious practices, a lot of communists are atheists, and religion is sort of a fraught topic in a classless, secular society. I want to see if Mikuism could somehow bridge that gap... I realize I am aiming extremely fucking high with that statement, but it is interesting to think about! Like I didn't name my blog communist Hatsune Miku as a joke! I really think there is something to it!

I made a post awhile ago that was an actual "tenet" or what have you, of Mikuism. I'll have to find it and reblog it! It had to do with the treatment of Miku merchandise and Her image more broadly.

ALSO VERY IMPORTANT to this project is the academic paper I was interviewed for almost a year ago now, I will reblog that post as well. It's extremely inspirational to me, and kind of hints at a path to true Mikuism that is distinct and more geared towards the spiritual needs of people today.

I'm working too much, have adhd, and cannot organize my life for shit, but I really want to still try and put down the foundation of Mikuism in a coherent structured way, have like actual tenets and practices, and try and establish a legit spiritually-enriching way of engaging with Miku. Because I genuinely genuinely learned what it means to have a spiritual awakening because of my love for Miku. Like I now understand on a deep level what people mean when they say they have faith, and the urge to bring this revelation to others is real, I feel that shit.

I will reblog this post with links to the posts I referenced, and I'll try and find some more of my posts I can tag with #Mikuism! I'm at work and have spent too long writing this post when I need to be working!

[thelesbianluthor]

Calling Kate selfish and saying she didn't care about Edwina's feelings is the most ridiculous statement ever made when she was the one that sacrificed everything FOR HER.

Edwina was naive and thought that Kate's multiple warnings were misguided protectiveness. Anthony never promised love to her, he stated he was not able to give it to her, but of course she didn't know him at all, she didn't understand him at all (and that was bc Anthony himself never intended to be open with her or anyone really) and that made her think that his courtesy could turn into love at one point. She thought her infatuation with the viscount was love. But she never really knew Anthony and that is not her fault.

I love Anthony but I will always say that most of the blame of Edwina's hurt falls on him. He was the one that kept following Kate, kept looking for her, could barely contain himself in her presence while still courting Edwina against Kate's loud protests and then proposed to the wrong sister.

Kate stopped being loudly against their union when Edwina said she didn't care about his disinterest in love and then pressed for the wedding with full intention on going back to India on her own because Edwina thought she loved him. Kate had never even considered the idea of taking anything when it was for herself. She had spent a life of service to her family and she would have done the same thing again, dismissing her feelings and wants in favor of her family, if Anthony had been able to keep his feelings in check.

Would that have been an incredibly sad ending and worst for all ? Of course it would have! Because Anthony would have never learned to let go of his trauma and would have spent his life keeping his family at arm's length. Edwina would have grown to resent Anthony because of his cold and detached demeanor. And Kate would have spent a life of solitude.

Anthony shittiest action was understanding he loved Kate and immediately going for the worst possible decision, asking Edwina to marry him, especially after what happened between Kate and him in the library. But I understand the reasoning behind his stupid actions. Do I still think he was a huge clown for it? Yeah obviously. But I know that it was a necessary stressful moment to amp up the angst and drama caused by his never addressed trauma and issues.

Either way the rules of their society, the stubbornness of everyone involved and the lack of honesty with themselves and each other plus years worth of unaddressed trauma are the reason behind it all.

I still think that some of the thing Edwina said when angry were not really fitting with the situation (i mean writing wise) but I can justify them if I think of them as words said in anger in the heat of the moment by a young girl who has spent her life following her sister like a guide and not having to worry about the world because her sister would always protect her and take the brunt of it all.

Also one thing that people that blame it all on Kate conveniently forget is that the moment she realized she had feelings for Anthony she WAS ready to tell Edwina, especially after Lady Danbury told her to be honest. But he proposed to Edwina and Lady Danbury told her it was too late to do anything basically and she should just swallow her feelings because the marriage was gonna happen at this point.

Not saying that it's Lady Danbury's fault because she is just trying to work with what society gives them and trying to keep the situation under control, like all the women in the show really...

The moment something was actually about to happen between Kate and Anthony she was gonna tell the truth but Anthony was a clown and society made it worse.

In Kate's mind, at that point, she was just gonna have to keep her feelings in check until the wedding because then she would leave for India and leave it behind.

I keep thinking I am done ranting about this but I see someone being a Kate hater and I have to ramble about all the shit my girl has had to deal with and defend her.

Also I am late to the party so I have many thoughts to express

[theseerasures]

(obligatory note that the footage does not usually look like this; i'm trying to reduce the washout on Laurel's face to make a point)

every time we watch Wicked Leah and i play a game of "how gay is it" during this part, because it does feel pivotal for Gelphie to fumble toward acknowledging what their relationship actually is here, before everything goes to shit. in my head the way it goes in the Original Cast Recording is that Elphaba takes the leap: Idina says two good friends so hesitantly, like she's worried just by calling it anything she's ruining what they have, and Cheno's Glinda responds with a warm reassurance. that's basically how it remained for some time, with Glinda's answering affirmation being on the whole more platonic, if equally emotional.

then at some point the onus shifted onto Glinda to Make It Gay. my intellectual self wants to say Kendra or Annaleigh started this trend, but since my insanity began with Katie (and Willemijn) she comes to mind first. there's always a moment right before friends where she wavers, which communicates two major things. the first, which is constant no matter her scene partner, is that Glinda feels the weight of this moment. all Glindas have to seriously acknowledge Elphaba's feelings to some extent here so they can assure/assuage them, but Katie always seems to extend the fragility her Elphaba displays rather than dispelling or shifting it. instead of Glinda assuring Elphaba that Elphaba is doing this right, we get the sense Glinda equally wants to get this right--but she's not certain how to do it either.

it can get lost because she's a serious Glinda in general, but what's unique about Katie's Glinda is how seriously she takes the project of understanding Elphaba. the most obvious example is with "i told you a really good one" during Popular, where Galinda is so fixated on WHY Elphaba would have these feelings she ends up neglecting them altogether, but there are some additional subtler moments in One Short Day. you just get the sense that Katie's Glinda is constantly on the verge of asking ten million followup questions about Elphaba, TO Elphaba, at this point in the show. she was wrong about Elphaba when they were enemies, which culminated in her being so cruel while Elphaba was kind; now she's going to learn everything about her new friend, so that whatever Elphaba does in the future she can respond in kind, with equal magnitude. (which, again, reads SO autistic for me.)

the second thing, which feeds from the first, is that if Glinda is as serious and vulnerable as Elphaba here, then the exact nature of Glinda's hesitation before friends alters depending on the Elphaba. as Wicked has aged (and Glindas have gotten gayer) Elphabas have accordingly shifted two good friends towards a statement of overwhelmed gratitude. she's still tentative about their friendship, but friendship is the sole realm she can even imagine at this point. in those cases Glinda's pause before friends turns into this neat reversal, where GLINDA now wants more (romantical) things out of their relationship but is shy about revealing her hand, because she's not sure Elphaba will reciprocate or because it's not fair to put that on Elphaba per the terms of their relationship. it's a super nice reading if you want a pining Glinda for a straight/oblivious Elphaba...

but that's not really what's happening here, because Laurel's Elphaba isn't just in love with Glinda. she seems pretty cognizant of it, too, so two good friends becomes a retreat from them being more than "good friends" in two distinct ways. it's an echo of Idina's hesitation with more explicit romantic intent, and her face afterwards betrays this very heartbreaking certainty that nothing Glinda offers back could be enough, because SHE wasn't brave enough in the first place to tell Glinda how she really feels. which would be bleak enough in itself, but played against Katie's Glinda--this empathetic tryhard who studied the Elphaba while she was supposed to be heterosexual--it becomes downright tragic. because Glinda KNOWS Elphaba is holding something back here. she knows that when Elphie makes that face she's worried about being hurt. and she knows, by now, that asking why immediately might make Elphaba hide more and ruin everything, so she's just going to have to guess. she says two best friends, because that IS what they are, but it doesn't feel like enough. she wants to acknowledge the thing Elphie can't say, even if she hasn't figured out yet what it could possibly be. she's going to try, though; not just for Elphie, but because she feels it, too.

and how could that not feel like a revelation for Elphaba? even the best case scenario she refuses to let herself think about, where Glinda reciprocates her feelings, would have come with the painful rawness of being seen through. but Elphaba could have never imagined this incipient possibility: that uncertainty can be something you relish, as opposed to something you fear. that she could be relished and not feared. they're not there yet, but that's the thing, isn't it? yet. and Glinda is going to try--Elphaba is certain of that much, now. they might get there, which feels like everything. they might, with time.

and why wouldn't they have enough time?

[cakeandpudding1]

Haii can you do a hcs of the Greek brothers (Zeus included but it's fine if you don't want to) to their S/O who is a mortal from the modern era?? I rllyy like your writing especially the Apollo's one ^^

Ofc! I'm sorry for the long wait 🙇‍♀️ I've been eating and rotting in my bed for a while. I dont really know about what you are requesting, there's only very little description. So I'll try my best ^^

RoR Greek bros with modern mortal s/o

Zues

- Mf is old as hell, literally. He'd be asking you all sorts of crap and wonder about the technology you have. He already knows about it, but he does like to stare and wonder what you do all day in that little rectangular piece of technology.

- He also tries to find ways to make you immortal, cus duh, he really likes you. But I think he'd be interested in cute little farm games online when you show him the stuff that you can do on your phone.

- he asks you to buy him a gadget, which you do so. but man, he sucks ass at it. You find him trying to figure out how to use it. Holding it upside down, pressing on all sorts of buttons until you have to lend me some help.

- he's also fond of the slangs and way you talk. He often uses your words too. Like "Lmfao!" Or "LOL!!"

- he wants to learn more about modern society, and everything there is to learn about. Until he found out about google. Mf now keeps on asking the stupidest questions, and even calls his brother's on facetime, just to talk to them about the stupidest shit.

- he'd laugh so loud when it comes to you telling him jokes from your TikTok brainrots and all.

- you talk to him about all the newest things happening, and all. And drama. But I think he's more interested in learning new words.

Adamas

- yes he does use the slangs too. I bet he'd randomly gangsta talk outta nowhere and make the most out of pocket statements.

- give him some love, he's just having fun especially after all the stuff he went through.

- I know damn well he makes yo mama jokes, no matter how old that stuff be. He's older than you bro, he's been alive for a very long time. So you better teach him more to mama jokes.

- your fashion sense was interesting, he wanna dress cool too. So he's gonna force you to show him clothes that he'd like to wear, and he'd pick the edgiest ones. 😭

- he often gets annoyed at how you're always on your phone and not paying attention to him, which makes him wonder what's so good about it.

- you gave him a gadget, which he now likes to watch anime in, or sports probably. Basically anything interesting.

Hades

- he finds you very endearing, and loves you very much. He'd find a way to turn you immortal so that he can care for you forever.

- yes he installed wifi in his place so that you could stay happy, and do whatever the hell you do on your gadgets.

- Bet you bought a TV and watched anime there with him, or maybe TV series or shows. Could even be horror movies. He loves to cuddle up with you whenever you guys watch a horror movie, cus he knows that he'll be the one to protect you when you get scared or tired.

- when you gave him a gadget, he didn't know what to use it for, but you said that he could chat with other people no matter where they at. And even store photos of whatever he wanted.

- it truly amazed him how far humanity had evolved. Now he can just search up anything he had questions about, or facetime his brother's, or buy something for you.

- he likes to listen to songs he finds, and now he's never really bored like he used to be. Maybe gadgets weren't so bad. He knows how to limit himself, and that's why he tries to limit it fro you too. He doesn't want your eyes to hurt, and wants you to get rest.

- there's so many things he wants to learn from you. And how humans do their daily thing. It's amusing to watch.

Poseidon

- Bro he really loves you a lot, he just doesn't show it. But it definitely caught his attention seeing the odd way you talked or acted.

- when you introduced him to a gadget, he just shook it off, not wanting to get into pathetic little things like that, but you insisted. So now there he was.

- he really thought that humans were babied. The fact that they all gotten so lazy over the centuries gave him the ick.

- but he did find some helpful words to use whenever it came to describing stuff. But that's till doesn't help with anything. Like y'all have google, you don't need to waste your time studying when you can just do a quick search and boom, all the answers are there.

- you guys had online shopping, you didn't need to use your legs to do some work when you could just order online. And so much more. Humanity was babied. Everyone was pathetic in his eyes.

- but, you were an exception. Cus he liked you lots.

- I believe that over time, he'd catch himself talking like you, like "it gives me the ick." 💀

- he's such a bitch, but it's ok. Cus it's Poseidon.

[satoblue]

Imagine wearing short silk Lacey slip dresses with no panties for nerdy gojo and sitting on his lap when he comes home and kissing him and caressing his face and our hand underneath his undercut and him playing with our pussys 🥹🥹🥹

thing is, satoru likes to act like he’s above sex and doesn’t need it but surprise surprise he’s addicted to masturbating (who could’ve guessed? the chronically online nerdy loser who can’t get any girls has to resort to using his hand multiple times a day 🙂‍↔️)

he’s seen the girls in porn and he wants to rut into one so bad. nerdjo talks all the shit he wants, degrading statements towards women, but when it comes time to actually speak to one he physically can’t. his palms get all sweaty and he’s stumbling over his words, their scent is so hypnotic and he gets so so dumb in the head, his cock thinking for him that he has to excuse himself every time (basically all bark no bite and yes he owns a pocket pussy 🙃)

when he finally gets his hands on a female, best believe he’s messing up. when nerdtoru sees you approach him in that little dress and rub yourself all over him (he doesn’t know where to place his hands so you move them to your tits for him) he’s already coming prematurely

he feels like he can’t breathe when you touch him, especially so intimately and sensually, his pupils are blown out and his breathing is heavy and he feels so dizzy and when you run your hands through his undercut he may or may not have creamed his pants again…. foreplay is clumsy enough as is, and he can’t seem to find your clit (even though he knows absolutely everything there is to know about the female body, somehow all that knowledge slips from his head and he’s struggling to finger you to orgasm)

the poor guy is doing everything wrong, constantly apologizing to you and berating himself in the head, struggling to rip open a condom (it’s his first time even using one) and having an even tougher time slipping it on that you need to help him yourself to his embarrassment, needing help to slip inside you cause you were just so wet and messy and his glasses fog up with so much sweat and heat that he can’t see or think straight

and why did he agree to this? when you asked him to come over to your dorm, batting your lashes so pretty, your mouth moving as you speak on how you’re struggling with the course work and need some help — he was already nodding his head yes

needless to say, the first time isn’t the greatest, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn. afterall, he’s very smart : )

[uselessheretic]

ofmd fandom has a racefaking scandal which lol i mean lmao even if u will. anyways, two things i guess as someone who doesn't even go here anymore

a black guy named atticus should've been your first red flag like let's be so serious rn

and 2. this is indicative of how fandom, and ofmd especially, weaponizes identity within it for clout where they're incentivized to exaggerate or wholesale make shit up about themselves as a way of adding validity to their views. "listen to poc voices" has always been a useless statement that gives white people permission to not engage in critical thought and instead rely on poc labor to form an opinion. and it's hilarious that this is somehow the response white fans have to this situation because they are allergic to the idea of picking up a fucking book and actually learning about critical race theory and history instead of the 20 something year old faceless blogger writing meta.

it's telling how often white fans gravitate to these viewpoints where their "authentic" and "necessary" writing on race becomes some of the most cited and propped up examples because, even subconsciously, white fans prioritize whitewashed experiences of racialization that already fits their worldview on how they imagine a poc thinks.

white people are able to succeed in this type of grift because ofmd fandom gaslit itself into thinking that reading text posts counts as educating themselves. which basically means they're doing an activism by reading fanfic and making sure they have only the most correct and woke headcanons lol its been years and you bitches still haven't picked up and finished a single book about race! you have no idea how to critically examine race relations and apply that in a real world context without jumping to the next poc's blog and hoping they have the answer!

this is why these people, despite claiming their hobby is "activism" and that they're an educational resource, will almost never post about current events. even though they claim they're helping combat ignorance in fandom, they'll never provide a source. they'll never link an article they read. they'll never recommend a book for further reading. they'll never remind people of upcoming digital workshops. they'll never suggest a documentary. they'll never actually try to give people the tools to learn for themselves because they don't have them. they just have oomfs ~really good and sooo smart~ meta they wrote based off of vibes and a prayer.

ofmd fandom is locked in a state of permanent ignorance and it'll stay that way because it likes it that way.

[sysmedsaresexist]

Something about that last post just really fucking irked me.

Normalize asking questions about your experiences and things you're not clear on

Yesterday, I had to ask some friends a question.

Any uterus having people that have had the electro therapy on their back-- very specific but Google isn't helping

Can the electricity on the lower back cause a period???

Wow, fucking cringe, what a faker, doesn't even know how her own uterus works, how do you make it this far in life and not know this stuff, FAKE UTERUS

I was so embarrassed to ask. I was scared, too.

And yet, I got an answer that I hadn't been able to find on my own.

Yes, it can happen.

Nice!

Well, first off, A, thank God I'm not hurt or dying, that's a relief. B, no one laughed. C, this shit isn't common knowledge.

Even if you think it's obvious, it's not.

Things can be related in the weirdest ways, and sound totally strange at first, and they turn out to be totally normal experiences.

What is dissociation?

Doctors say it's super complicated to understand, don't worry, you're not alone.

What's the difference between normal and pathological dissociation?

Oh, boy, let's sit down for this one.

What's the difference between trauma and abuse?

Fantastic question, first, are you doing okay? Second, it's complicated.

Could these two symptoms be related?

FUCKING PROBABLY, let's talk about it.

All these overgeneralized, sweeping statements, made under the guise of "correcting misinformation," and really only trying to prove people wrong instead of educate, hurt other people with that thing.

"Your doctor is ALWAYS right," fuck you, no they're not. "They know you better than you know yourself." Ohhh, fuck no, that's dangerous. "You MUST fit the criteria 😤."

The criteria:

WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE TRYING TO HELP?

Because you're failing spectacularly at doing any kind of good for the community you want to "help".

You lost the point so hard that your posts are now actively dangerous to people with CDDs that don't think clinically enough for you. You lost the point when you use papers that directly contradict each other over basic facts, and don't even realize it in your rush to be "right".

"Trust your doctor 100%," about any other disorder, would get you instantly canceled. Are you overweight? A POC? A woman? Trans? A combination? Well, you're fucked.

You, yourself, have probably never thought that.

So why did you say it?

Who cares what they're calling themselves, who cares whether the term is clinical, are they getting the help and support they need? Can we help clarify anything for them?

Using a people focused approach in therapy is totally fine, THIS HAS NEVER BEEN AN ISSUE. It may be a doctor-focused issue, but it's not a treatment issue. In other words, for every doctor that prefers a parts focused approach, there's one that'll use a people focused approach just fine, if that's what you want to do. Good job getting into therapy, congrats! That's what's important.

"Fictives," are so well documented that complaining about them is laughable.

Alters can take years to come forward after events, and may latch onto a character years after their actual formation. Who cares if the person can pinpoint the cause, or if they don't even care enough to try, are they getting the help and support they need???

Instead of saying, "that's impossible," let's start asking, "how can I help?"

Instead of saying, "your opinion is wrong," let's address actual misinformation. Talk to pro/endos about the trauma basis of DID. That matters a fuck ton more than whatever you're arguing about.

Instead of laughing at people who don't know things, learn to socialize and present corrections in a pleasant conversation. God forbid you're seen "being nice," to the other side.

As a very good friend said, better than I ever could, this whole "prioritizing research always over listening to others' lived experiences" is just the plural version of "academic theory on queer experiences is most important." You need both.

Many things can be true, all at the same time. Opinions are onions, they all make me cry or whatever the saying is. Single research papers should never be used generally. If you put all the papers together, anything is possible. This paper doesn't specifically talk about that thing so it's not possible.

Another paper, just a click away:

Are people happy, healthy, and feeling supported in their life?

Fantastic, that's what matters.

This blog is open to basic questions that people are scared to ask. I would also highly recommend sending @cdd-safe-haven those kinds of questions. It's completely unrelated to syscourse, hopefully the information will help more people.

[hellostarposts]

Episode 80 - The Librarian

I think that it's safe to assume that mystery man is the librarian.

Jon thinks that everyone is a danger to him.

Norwegian?????

OMG ITS JURGEN LEITNER.

So its a book (seven lamps) that causes the victim to feel like the walls are closing in.

Additionally, said book interacts well with Smirkes architecture.

So I was right the tunnels were created by him.

We already knew that the books didn’t have to be read out loud.

So it was Jurgen changing the tunnels.

Awe it’s kinda sweet that he was changing the tunnels for Jon.

So the Not-Them was trying to get Leitner.

A disappearance.

Reading 1 or 2 words hides him from the prying eyes of Jon’s Master (elias).

Where are the tapes of Leitner talking to Gertrude.

Over 20 years???

Is in fact connected to mill bank prison.

Am I supposed to feel bad for Leitner? Because I’m starting to feel bad for him.

Leitner is just what Jon could become in the future.

He did not want to be a nepo baby.

Uh did Salesa learn from LEitner.

Smirke also had writings to accompany his architecture.

He got a house built to store the books.

Weird visitors, they are the “students”

One assistant was stabbed through the throat by a monster with too many teeth and limbs like knives.

One assistant was pulled into a cavernous moore that opened up on the floor.

Another ran into a door that shouldn’t have been there.

Another was plucked away by a hand that reached down from the ceiling.

Last one was pulled into a pulsating pile of meat.

Some rooms were consumed by darkness

Others were consumed by flames that left the books untouched.

At least Leitner is honest about the mistakes he made.

1000 books?!?! God, I want that many books.

Were him and Gertrude a thing?

All of Gertrude’s assistants died? 

Key of Solomon was a mistake. Several different powers.

ENTITY EXPLANATIONS INCOMING

Next to the world? That's a fun way to put it.

So the entities are in fact controlling the pocket dimensions.

Similar to the old pantheons but more complicated.

We glossed over how the church of the divine host is worshipping one of them.

So the books have some of the entity’s essence within them?

Micheal is The Distortion (it is lying)

The spiral is made to confuse and cause insanity.

Leitner did not kill Gertrude.

Mic drop is that it’s Elias.

Which files do you need?

So Elias manipulated the camera because he can control eyes?

Jon we all kinda knew that the institute was not a regular building,

The eye = the beholding

JON DON’T GO START SMOKING.

Awe Leitner misses Gertrude.

NOOOOO ELIAS IS GONNA DO IT AGAIN.

The Stranger?? The Unknowing???

So Elias wants to stop the entities but on his own terms.

Beating him to death is like the least efficient way.

Oh god the sound of dripping blood.

Ha ha Elias is an idiot and didn’t take the tape.

Jon is going into shock.

I still like Tim’s attitude about dealing with the stuff.

Oof Jon is being framed for another murder.

That is actually so much information to process all at once. Yay we finally meet Leitner, boo for Elias beating him to death. At least he was able to open Pandora's box of entities for Jon. Who is now going to either be on the run from the cops or in a padded room. 

After last season's finale basically being an accidental discovery. It’s so nice to see Jon be completely fooled into doing exactly what the Not-Them wanted him to do. Also, on the topic of the Not-Them. Who gave it the right to be so good at taunting? Because that shit was top tier. The amount of dread it created within me because I just know it’s going to be a part of the breakdown that Jon is going to have. 

This is a fantastic season finale but it’s also giving “to be continued”. Like what do you mean we get to meet Jurgen Leitner who opens a massive can of worms for Jon. Causes Jon to go back to smoking (which I hate but it also makes total sense). We find out that basically every statement is just a small group of bored entities being weirdos. And they all want Leitner dead and I’m assuming will soon want Jon dead.

I’m going to guess this once and probably forget about it. Whatever is going on with Elias is either he used one of the books, or was given powers by one of the entities. Because what do you mean Master??? Obviously he’s in charge of the institute but if the institute is a “living” thing then would it be an extension of Elias? There’s too many ways I could theorize that. Much simpler to say that he’s the bitch of an entity.

I’m so surprised that Tim and Martin seemingly made it out of the distortion without turning out like Helen. I like to think it’s because they were together and thus had something to ground themselves. However, they immediately find Leitner’s dead body with no Jon in sight will definitely lead to Tim doubling down on the Jon hate train and poor Martin is going to be so conflicted. 

Okay this has gotten to a point where I am just summarizing but like how else am I supposed to digest all of the bombs that were just dropped.

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

Thinking about disabled AK!Jason tonite with a disabled s/o

Let's be fr this man could/should be an ambulatory wheelchair user but he won't because he doesn't know that's a thing and wouldn't think he deserved it. If you're an ambulatory wheelchair user maybe one day you manage to lovingly bully him into just TRYING it and it is life changing

He uses his ambulatory energy to do Red Hood shit nbd

if he doesn't use a wheelchair he's got at least 2 braces--shoulder and knee

Baby has chronic pain, arthritis, chronic migraines from being beaten

Missing some teeth too

take this boy to your neuro or your ortho!!!! he is totally unaware he does not need to live like this. better living through chemistry

let's get him some therapy too

you WILL have to go to his drs appointments with him. mans WILL freak the fuck out for ANY medical procedure, has very serious medical abuse trauma. if he can see how your drs help you he is much more likely to go if he can see that you are benefiting from your providers and that they haven't harmed you

if you're scared of drs he will FULLY stand behind you. probably not that healthy tbh but he gets it

having a special Migraine Protocol for each of you (it's basically just a snack and a drink, blue light filter glasses, a sleep mask with headphones for that special Migraine Playlist)

make your own pain scales and talk through frequency of pain bc when you have constant or near constant pain it fucks up your ability to quantify it so making your own pain scale is helpful (he probably uses shakespeare plays or authors. like a 5 for jason is twilight, because you can see some problems but it's fun and fluffy but when you start looking closer OH NO SO MANY PROBLEMS)

pain meters on a wall near the kitchen so you can know what you're working with

CBD patches

the AK suit is basically a giant brace/mobility aid so you help him figure out how to adapt it for his red hood persona, how to make it lighter and allow for greater ROM

will remind you to do physical therapy

resistance bands ALL OVER THE HOUSE

learning bodywork techniques

AT LEAST once a week using a special oil or lotion to work into some of his bigger scars to make the tissue more mobile

giving him a back/neck/scalp/face massage

after a while obvi that's a lot of trust he's putting in you

NOT deep tissue. don't hurt him more. you can have effective therapeutic massage without hurting a person

trager work involves basically shaking a limb and letting the weight of the muscle do all the work but it feels weird the first time and he'd just start laughing at you

specially if you do his glutes

but it feels really nice so he stops laughing and it does help his lower body pain

putting magnesium lotion on each other's neck and shoulders

start to ask each other "are you angry or in pain?"

hand massages

teaching him to stop pushing through the pain

one of his knees is basically bone on bone so you always know when the weather is changing

if u both have bad knees u just don't even when the weather is changing. take some pain meds, use your topical pain reliever of choice, prop those joints up and snuggle in bed. watch a youtube series or he can read to you

heated blankets as heating pads supremacy

occasionally he'll be in pain and the kind of pain where you feel like you're going insane, so as a distraction he will go online and buy a bunch of weird pain-relieving gadgets and you'll spend a week trying them out

(sometimes his pain fog shopping spree is blind boxes, or nail polish, or statement shirts)

all of his siblings know to come to your place if they get beat tf up because your medicine cabinet is UNreal

you're about to give cass or steph a Controlled Substance Pain Reliever and you pause "this is technically drug dealing, isn't it? dOn'T teLL rEd hOOD" jason is literally patching them up right next to you

soft blankets

reminding each other it's ok to take it slow

he's constantly tearing into the other rogues for not having ADA accessible lairs (except Ivy who successfully argued that the plants make it ADA accessible which will do. FOR NOW.)

[liedownquisition]

Dickroy people hyperbolically insisting they will kill themselves if Royjay wins and I have to use all my strength to keep myself from going you promise? in response because I have some sense of decorum and basic appropriate conduct 😔

akljdkjl They're SO DRAMATIC about it. Guys it's not that fucking deep. Other statements I've seen include "If DickRoy doesn't win then I'm going to kill YOU" and so on and so forth.

(Sorry Anon, I'm going to use this ask to complain about a different argument)

And the one that's really been getting me because holy fucking shit is the argument that "DickRoy is better because Roy is an actual person in it."

You know, I considered arguing that, actually, there's a lot of great fanfiction out there that doesn't minimize Roy and that the sanitization of his character is largely due to the batfanon black hole that everyone acknowledges most of the time but for some reason with JayRoy it's like a whole separate thing and not a by-product of popular tropes that are generally Bat-centric with everyone else as their accessories.

And by the nature of typing that paragraph I have, in a way, made that argument, but I've also somewhat changed my mind on how I want to really discuss this because I think there's a larger issue at hand here:

Fictional characters aren't people, you cannot erase their personhood because they don't have any.

I'm so sorry about whoever lied to you about that.

A lot of people are mad that JayRoys are willing to engage with and discuss Roy's addiction in an interrogative and compassionate way. They're not going to phrase it like that though. Because if they did phrase it like that it would betray the fact that they would rather ignore that part of Roy's character entirely except perhaps for brief little one-off references

You know, like how Dick Grayson only brings it up every now and then to throw that fact in Roy's face as an insult every time he's feeling pissy, especially when Roy is telling him something honestly kind of fucking true that he doesn't want to hear.

Frankly... I don't actually think I care if most of the shippers did or do erase Roy's "personhood." If I don't like their content I won't engage with it. There are plenty of ships, plenty fo fandoms, where this same phenomena happens all the time. Especially because we are talking about FANfiction.

AMATEUR fiction which is often clumsy and raw and inexperienced, that doesn't know how to realistically step back and have extensive focus or reference to more than one characters' struggles at a time. Even the worst fanfiction is a learning experience for the writer. Over time they might get better, or they might not. It doesn't matter. All that matters is t hat they enjoy themselves, and that other people sometimes enjoy it too!

We're all just out here doing our best, and trying to have a good time. We're not out here to make award-winning fiction, we're here to make the blorbos kiss, because they're not people, they're imaginary dolls and we can do whatever we want with them because it's not for you, we're not appealing to a broader market.

It's just for fun, and I think when you start arguing about character personhood, you're taking it too seriously.

Would I, personally, prefer to engage with depictions that display a degree of understanding of canon and respect for the characterization that's been laid out over decades? Yeah, I won't lie. I like that more. But, what I consider that to mean and what YOU consider that to mean and what THEY consider that to mean are all very different perspectives and interpretations.

There are sooooo many comics. And it's not a fucking crime to not read all of them and remember that in Bleebus Bongo Adventures Volume 4 Issue #516 Beefgus said he doesn't like Lemon Cake when you write your bakery AU and have Beefgus pick Lemon Cake off the menu and claim it's the best one they've ever had and that because they've had so much good Lemon Cake and have a lot of opinions about it in their life it's a real compliment.

There's nothing wrong with changing around character dynamics and relationships for an AU. And, technically, by nature, most fanfiction is already an AU, because it's not canon. And, maybe if they're trying to argue it's canon compliant then maybe it's a little more like "I don't think you and I read the same canon" but I don't really see that tagged a lot on SHIPFIC unless it IS a canon ship which obviously JR isn't lol.

They're just... Look if other people are playing with dolls in ways you don't like then I'm not sorry. That's their prerogative. Stop being so dramatic, you look like a child throwing a tantrum.

And I'm getting really tired of being the bigger person about it when they're taking every chance they can get to be anything but.