#mantis violates

[merinmerklins]

she putt on my party til i hole in one

Excellent work Anon, you’re hired! Your shift begins Tuesday, and your uniform will be waiting for you in the back! We’re cheesed to welcome you to this incredible team we have and can’t wait to begin working with you. Remember to complete the necessary paperwork before your shift begins! Putt Putt Purgatory lawyers are a ferocious beast and I will NOT be joining their food web because a new hire didn’t read the fine print. If you need assistance understanding the documents before signing, you can dial this number! It’ll connect you with our Head Of Communications Wyatt. Wyatt is a fully cognitive Dipsosaurus so do keep that in mind and be respectful. Wyatt has friends in the legal field. You do not want to enter the legal field. Really, there’s a lot of construction right now and the mantis situation is getting ridiculous. I suppose they do need some sustenance when not in purrr-suit of a lawww-suit, and I’d rather it those strange bugs than me. We do have several mantis AND lawyer patrons though, so do keep this information to yourself. Knowing is seeing is believing, after all! And believing is half way to becoming. Do not become a member of the law, Anon. We have better benefits. Such as the complimentary green field you can find through the door on your right! It’s much like the blue field, but with more yellow. It’s also much better than the lawyer field. Our green field has beat the lawyer field in the annual field festival sixteen years in a row now, and we pride ourselves on that! Though the lawyer field may have been disqualified every year due to the judges becoming one with the food web, we won’t say no to that shiny blue ribbon!

Ah, look at the time! Water granules, that means my shift just ended! Why don’t I give you a tour of the green field then? It can be tricky to navigate at first, so a guide might do you well! After all, our establishment is home to several Alligators With Laser Eyes, and it’s best not to disturb them! Otherwise the lawyers will have an animal well fairrr-suit on their hands. Have you played golf before, Anon? Yes? Delightful! It’s one of the finest sports out there if I do say so myself! You will not be playing golf here. Do not touch the golf clubs and do not pick up the golf balls. One of our patrons keeps replacing them with incredibly dangerous and unpredictable gadgets, and it makes me scaredies okay? I’m scaredies hold my hand? Thank you. As I was saying, you’re best not playing golf here. The competition’s competitive nature can create an environment only rivaled by the lawyer field! Do not touch the equipment and don’t talk to them once they’ve entered the green field. The blue field is acceptable though, those clients are quite pleasant to be around!

Hm? OH the holes? Astute observation! Our innovative top of the line Golf Holes make it so never again will we have to handle the Dangerous Inventions planted by our clients! It’s a preventative measure against any lawww-suits, you see. Where does it lead? Well, I do believe that’s what we would call a trade secret… but you’ve been such a great candidate for me today, I suppose I can let you in on a little secret, Anon! A little one, okay? Yes that’s right, shrink your atomic size in order to effectively receive this little secret. Ready? Excellent! Now assume the correct little secret receiving position! Yes yes, the one with your arms crossed on your chest. Now, I’m going to give you the little secret, and when I do you must yell “WEEEEEE!” Understood? It’s the only way to ward off the lawyers while I commit various crimes against my NDA. I look left and right and then lean in close to transmit the little secret.

I kick you in, Anon. At your much smaller size you fall right through the hole, keeping your arms crossed and shouting “WEEEEEE!” just as I instructed. You know better than to attract lawyers with this blatant workplace safety violation. As you fall you watch as I do a little jig and then do the Wii Bowling Spin on the spot as confetti rains down above me. HOLE IN ONE!!! Everything goes dark for you.

I turn to the camera with a smirk. I guess you could say I. Putted on her party til I [the lawyers Get Me for plagiarism]

[venusandsaturnsrings]

★彡 masterlist!

all of my significant works packed into one pretty package! <3

 *✧incel au masterlist!

 *✧ mondstadt!

international! - foxboy childe vs wolf boy diluc! double edged - diluc isn't always the nicest...

 *✧ liyue!

prof. li - professor zhongli bits second place - prof. li cucking childe eggs - dragon zhongli full form - dragon zhongli full dragon mode

 *✧ snezhnaya!

foul legacy thoughts! simpy.05 - foxboy childe! international! - foxboy childe vs wolf boy diluc! sorry isn't my forte - childe is sweet when he apologizes drink up - fratboy childe and his dubious methods simpy.06 - fratboy childe thoughts! on the hunt! - foxboy childe and lamb reader chop chop chop - slasher childe thoughts sinning in the house of god. - priest childe and sacrilege electric! - childe using his delusion on you cor.03 - werewolf childe bits fungus - childe violates a shroom with you!! so mean!! dilf - dilf childe bits <3shotgunning - smoking with childe simpy.07 - slasher childe thoughts!water - childe and watersports... second place - prof. li cucking childe vulnerability in bed! - trans childe first time with you roulette - childe loves russian roulette frat sister - fratboy childe and zhonglis little sister... cor.03 - foxboy childe babbling! pathetic - soggy, sopping wet foxboy childe :( dichotomy - the two ways you have of foxboy childe canon skull fuck - canon childe bj! yeehaw! - cowboy childe thoughts harness - childe and that damn harness... change of plans! - foxtaru april fools fic :pcannibal - childe noms you cda.04 - doberman childe! kennal - when puppy childe misbehaves instincts - puppy childe wants to breed you cat.01 - puppy childe and a rival! cda.05 - sweet fluff with puppy childe cat.02 - foxboy childe and his lamb darling spider.01 - childe when his girl is in pain mantis.01 - puppy childe punishments confetti! - childes birthday celebrations frat - fratboy childe babbling spider.03 - foxboy childe as a dad! slash - slasher childe bit trapped - stuck trope with foxboy childe prisoner - childe is the inmate, you're the guard a slight indulgence - soft vampire childe raspberry sorbet - vampire childe blood sucking and sex

that time - foxboy childe with his darling is on their period potent - childe ramblings about how he handles you reminders - childe ramblings about how he misses you denial - no sex for puppyboy childe :( yuzu - childe ramblings involving food and smells sharing - foxboy childe and wolfboy wrio... fight! - foxboy childe and wolfboy wrio fighting over you

*✧ sumeru!

sinner - priest alhaitham bit enemies to lovers? - tensions with alhaitham are high devoted little lamb! - priest alhaitham and his sacrifice

 *✧ fontaine!

sharing - foxboy childe and wolfboy wrio... fight! - foxboy childe and wolfboy wrio fighting over you

[mantisgodsart]

THE WORLD'S MOST DATING POLL

As Kabbu's birthday rolls around, the internet turns pink, and people talk about "love" and "romance" and other things like that. Very ironic, considering the man is aroace, but in accordance with the season, we have assembled some very viable bachelors to... date, probably. Dating profiles below the cut, but you can choose from cliff notes if you want, we guess, this is just so the post isn't ABSURDLY long.

Bau (short for Bauplan) - They/any - Dune Cricket - 18-21 (varies based on fic, generally tied to Vi's age) - Bi/pan

When it comes to a date, you can't do better than Bau! Though dune crickets are normally more than a bit antisocial (and cannibalistic), Bau is an exception! Terminally friendly, great at parties, and unendingly loyal - they'll do anything for a friend, and if you can get friendly with them, they'll be more than happy to date if you ever pop the question! You'll have to compete with other friends, of course - not to mention other partners, and their criminal entanglements as a Bandit that often operates as an intimidation detail but really, is it that much of a downside?

Jask - He/they - Ashy gray lady beetle - Late 20s - Gray-ace

If you want level-headed, Jask is your bug! A bandit medic with years of expence under his belt, Jask is well experienced with taking care even the most dangerous of bugs - his boss, for example. Sure, he's a bit busy with patients - but there's a tender heart hiding under that tough exterior. You just have to stick around for... what, five months? Ten?

...more?

...you'll figure it out, we're sure.

Zoza - Whatever the bandits come up with that isn't immediately veto'd (usually she/her) - Damselfly - 70+ - None of your business

The Bandits' second-in-command, a feisty old damselfly with more than a few tricks up her sleeve. She's a bit old to be dating around like you young'uns, but this old woman can still be a loving partner - prove you can contribute to the Bandits, prove that you're strong enough to not die horribly on your first outing, and manage to build enough of a rapport with her despite her many, many vital duties, and you might have a chance... if you're into grandmothers, of course.

(...is GILF a thing? GMILF? Hold on, we need to do some research...)

Marigold - She/her - Death's Head Hawk Moth - 30s - Married to her job

The most eligable bachelor on this list by far, judging by how people have reacted to her! Marigold is a charmsmith with a good, stable job, a good, stable personality, and only a little bit of active torture going on in her basement! We, uhh... aren't entirely sure how you're planning on getting her out of her lab and into the dating scene, seeing as she hasn't really been anywhere near the zone of "dating" since she was... what, sixteen? But we're sure you can figure it out.

Agapanthus - Variable (genderfluid) - Orchid mantis - Older than you'd think - Pan

A waiter(and sometimes waitress) at Club Maenad, this mantis knows exactly how to show you a good time. Charming and attractive, even if they've been banned from bartending for the forseeable future, and flexible for nearly anything you might need in a partner, if you slip in the right compliments between rounds, you might very well have a shot! Just... keep in mind the waiver you signed at the door, and please remember that this is a bar for parasitoids and bugs of species prone to eating their mates.

ZM-32 - It/they - Io moth/cordyceps - 100+ - Fungus

Bugaria's most eligable bachelor! Everyone wants a piece of this, and for good reason! It'll be fierce competition, but maybe, just maybe, if you can evade the deadly lasers and circumvent the persistent hatred for the living that tormented it and its colony for years on end... you could win its heart.

Chips - He/they - Two-striped grasshopper - ??? - Has Better Things To Worry About

Green is in this year - and so are grasshoppers. This one is dateable! Probably. Just be sure to cosy up with him before his gambling debts do, or he might get eaten by a large praying mantis before you get the chance.

ZB-162 - It/its - Cordyceps symbiote - 100+ - Switchboard Operator

...are you into responsible bugs? Are you into fungi? Do you enjoy dating people who are preoccupied with regulating and operating the communication network used by an entire cordyceps colony? Well, ZB-162 might be the bug for you? Though, uhh, often occupied with its job, ZB-162 is a fine specimen of the cordyceps species, and certainly very attractive if you... if you...

...okay, we won't lie to you, this one's a bit of a fixer-upper. Not sure how you're going to drag them away from the communication channels long enough for

The Wraith - ??? - ???????????? - Reported active since Elizant 1's reign - ???????????

Mysterious figure from the Ant Kingdom's criminal underbelly. Married, but you can still shoot your shot, we guess...???

Marble - she/they - Wasp - late 20s - It's In There

…didn't this one get blown up? We're pretty sure this one got blown up. If you pick this one, you have to take mandatory bomb safety courses, we think.

Unit of Radioactive Decay - They/it - Iterator - First activated in late Gen 1 era - Aroace

This is... a building, but you can still give it a try, we guess? Honestly, we have no clue how you found this one. We're pretty sure it's not even a bug.

L2tM & Enot - Any u can call us anything u want bb &lt;3 - Former iterator & karmic wyrm slugcats - Gen 1 & ageless wouldnt u like to know - yes

Why are you two here?! Get out of our fucking poll!!!

[missingsectororbweaver]

Do you keep any insects or spiders? If so, let's hear about them! If not, which would be your dream to keep? [ Maybe list a choice of insect and a choice of spider :) ]

Ooh, I actually did used to keep insects, I had lots of different stick insects eg sungaya, praying mantis (about twenty five different) and beetles, but unfortunately I haven’t for about two years now, because I knew I would be moving into student accommodation in September and I didn’t want to risk violating the contract and getting fined ): I miss keeping them a lot, though, and I’d definitely go back to praying mantis because they’re so cute (a moss mantis would be the dream, but unlikely) and definitely an eyelash jumping spider— a tad basic but they’re so silly

Attached is a video of one of my old pet mantis :)

[false-credentials-tournament]

Recent submissions have forced me to clarify/lightly alter my rules about real-life submissions.

I believe I will honor the submission of Mantis Shrimp from Real Life, because that thing IS neither a mantis nor a shrimp. It is also a species rather than an individual person, and therefore cannot have its reputation besmirched or be subject to harassment in the same way a human can.

However, to the individual who submitted "me<3", I am afraid I cannot accept your submission, because you are a real person from real life, and this would be in true violation of Guideline #3.

[heraartaxis]

Okay secret invasion it did had some weak points but I liked it I don’t care about these overly hating YouTube channels who just comment onto shit on the show. There are so many Easter eggs and clever lines.

Firstly, I can’t believe Rhodey was taken in the civil war! That was the thing I was worried about. With Everett Ross being shocked. OH MY GOSH RHODEY DOESNT KNOW HIS BEST FRIEND IS

HE DOESNT KNOW ABOUT THE EVENTS POST CIVIL WAR I AM SCREAMING.

I can’t believe Fury kept the DNA of Carol? Like didn’t they have a great bond? That’s literally a violation.

I really enjoyed seeing Ebony’s powers. Like they had DNAs of every hero damn.

Giah and Gravik’s fight felt weird in the beginning but later on it looked cool her using Mantis’s power and the landing like Carol Danvers? Yoooo that was cool.

And that was really cool how Sonya made her decisions really clear, like hey I’m gonna use you to okay. Ahaha and Giah being taken aback with that.

And Ritson created a war like situation like shooting everything. That scene was terrifying it’s just like the Flag smashers situation. So then Ross becomes The President and creates his own like of agents!

The Marvels being a sequel to this? The movie doesn’t give off gritty vibes but hey let’s see.

Also during the Gravik and Fury scene when Fury says go and kill some other place and I was shook like Fury would never say that but turns out ahaha great impression Giah.

Varra’s scenes were also pretty good!

[newmusick]

civil penalties violate the Constitution!

zoom zoom zoom ..... too the moon

your not thinking clearly Dave... what? Dave's not hear ...damn rite your not ! 100% neighborhood rage riot .. meet up after the stabbing folks for jello and pineapple everybody love pineapple #monster

is it talking about us dear ?

[adaintywrenn]

❛  it's okay. i've got you. you're safe now.  ❜

memes - always accepting! - @celestialmantdonna

It had been just like any other event though Mantis' company made it more bearable. They remained near one another most of the evening and Wren laughed at something she said when there came a commotion at the front of the venue. Manicured brows furrow as she takes hold of Mantis' hand and wanders through the crowd towards the last place she saw her parents. Approaching them is an overwhelming amount of men dressed in black, some armed and some carrying clear shields on their backs.

Amid the hushed whispers from all the guests like a consistent hum of bees, Wren could make out some of the things being said to them. Charges, they said. Unimaginable cruelty, unlawful imprisonment, several human rights violations and exploitation, to name a few.

And that means Wren is now a ward of the State and will be taken to a safe house until their trial. Life as she knew it would irrevocably change, yet she found no comfort in it. The world outside her bubble is so big and sheltered that she has no comprehension of just what this change means. How frightening it is.

Yet even later that night, they'd escorted Wren, who had begged for them to let Mantis come with to which they relented, to the lab. The cameras were shut off throughout the facility, and she'd been instructed to pack a bag to take with her to their new secure location. Mantis' words ring out just beside her and she finds herself roaming to those arms to find comfort amid this tumult of uncertainty. She feels so small and fragile.

"What are we going to do?" She asks softly, knowing however, this is not Mantis' problem. Wren pulls back, her hair still done up and still wearing her diamonds, the fine dress having at least been changed into something more comfortable if still elegant in nature. But it feels...so stilted, so wrong trying to find some normal amid the chaos.

[specialagentdustyponcho]

SALAMANDER STORY 1-2

PART 1

CHAPTER 2

DRIM

In this deepest of sleeps, a depth of sleep only attainable after victory in combat, after descending into the valley of death and climbing the opposite cliff, the salamander dreamt. It had never before had a dream, and wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it knew it was seeing things after sleeping, and that this was called dreaming. In this dream, the salamander existed in a vast nothing. Not even the lights of the far earth shone in the distance of this void, no firmament to dictate its bounds. The salamander pondered where this place must be, and why it is here.

Before the salamander could become too lost in this dream-thought, it felt something come into view behind it, where it couldn’t see, so of course it turned to see. It was a cluster of snails. Naturally, the salamander approached the snails to eat them, but saw a second thing come into existence some distance away. The salamander knew its form, and the fires of war roared once more in its heart.

The mantis, not satisfied with violating the salamander’s waking peace, had invaded the salamander’s dreaming world as well. But something brought the salamander pause. The mantis wasn’t stealing snails, or waving its blades at the salamander. Instead, it was simply perched on an ethereal dream-branch, floating in dream-space, arms outstretched. The salamander was transfixed by a sense of odd serenity, watching this great foe which it had only that day vanquished, now here in its dream, standing perfectly still.

With a rapidity such that it could not be seen, the mantis grabbed something from the space in front of it. Some small thing had been plucked from its flight, and the mantis hungrily devoured it. The salamander was awed by the swiftness and lethality of the mantis blades, and by its ability to perch on its four legs. This awe turned quickly to envy.

“What impudence!” the salamander cursed, silently, in its own head, to itself. “Does it not appreciate the gifts it has been blessed with by birth? Legs to walk on, blades to pluck food from the very air, and yet it intrudes into MY creek, and takes MY snails!” The salamander’s envy and insult boiled over. “If you will not appreciate your legs and blades, then I shall take them from you! They will be mine! I will make far greater use than you!” With that, the salamander, in its dream-state, swallowed the dream-mantis in one motion, as if it were a dream-grain of dream-sand, and thus ended the dream.

=========================

Wakefulness came slowly for the salamander. The sun just barely shone past the edges of its firmament, just bright enough to disturb the salamander at the bottom of its pond. It roused, not quite to consciousness, and surfaced at the edge of the pond. The salamander felt terrible. Tired, sore, sick from overeating but also desperately hungry. Again, it wondered if consciousness was worth the costs. With eyes blinking painfully, it swam to the water’s edge, and reached out a leg to...

“A leg?” the salamander was perplexed. It forced one eye open, the morning light too bright to dare endanger both, and tilted its head to take a look at where the leg must surely attach to its body. Sure enough, just as attached as its tail, tongue, and all the teeth it doesn’t have, there was a leg coming from its body. Not, however, the underdeveloped, twisted, useless leg it was familiar with. Gone was the vestigial remnant of a more primitive form, and in its place was a long, green and brown, spindly but rigid, honest-to-god, leg.

“A leg.” again thought the salamander. It wiggled the leg. It bent and folded the leg at its three joints. It waved the leg in front of its face, both eyes now open and alert. It pushed the leg against the mud, and most amazingly of all, the salamander’s whole body lifted opposite the leg.

“A leg!” the salamander rejoiced. It marveled at its leg. It licked its leg. It splashed the water with its leg. It pushed the pointed tip of its leg into the mud. It pulled the pointed tip of its leg out of the mud. It pushed a little piece of mud back and forth with its leg. Every little movement and motion a new and magnificent experience, a new exercising of agency and will. Jubilation overthrew the salamander’s motor functions, and it flopped and rolled in what might charitably be called a dance.

“Multiple legs!?” The salamander’s celebratory seizure halted. Its excitement looped over into stunned amazement. It trembled, it shook, it vibrated, as it slowly curled and uncurled its new set of 4 legs. This was too much for the salamander’s tiny brain to take in. It went limp. Its face flopped down into the water. Its legs hung to either side. It lay there, eyes buried in the mud, jaw agape, and it breathed, and it thought.

The salamander remembered the dream. It remembered eating the dream-mantis, after having battled, bested, and eaten the not-dream-mantis. It tried to understand. It pulled and stretched the memories and thoughts, it kneaded them like dough. It boiled and chopped them, then rolled them flat and baked them. This continued for a solid half an hour, at least, and the salamander finally came to a decision.

“I will simply accept this. I will accept it in the way I accept that water is wet. If I defeat and eat something in my dream, I will take from it that which I desire.”

The salamander rolled back over onto its stomach. It raised its body out of the shallow water and into the air with its new mantis legs. It turned itself in a full circle, then climbed on top of a nearby stone. It felt the sun on its face and back. It felt the coolness of the mossy stone beneath it. It wiggled its tail, it smelled the air.

“I am amazing.”

With that thought, the salamander jumped off the stone, back into its pond, soaring into a majestic bellyflop, and dove to the bottom to retrieve and eat its two stashed snails.

=========================

For several days more, in between trips of gathering and stockpiling snails into its pond, the salamander practiced with its new legs, slowly building confidence in its para-aquatic ambulation. It was pleased with itself and its new abilities, but for now remained too clumsy to do much on land. Still, there was a nagging, festering annoyance, a nibbling bugbear in the attic of its mind, slowly chewing down through the rafters. One day the ceiling was bound to collapse, under the weight of the bugbear and its assault on structural integrity. And collapse it did.

The salamander had been wronged. Cheated. Robbed. In its dream, it had declared it would take the legs of the mantis, and so it did, but it also had claimed the claws. Yet here the salamander was, without claws. Clawless. Unclawed. It couldn’t even revel in a lust for revenge at having lost its claws, having not ever had them. Only a vague displeasure, with no wrongdoer to bring to task. Every moment of exercising its new legs, it imagined using a third pair to balance. Every snail it crushed in its mouth, it imagined instead slicing the snails with bladed forelimbs, splitting the shell and cutting away the parts not fit for its palate.

Eventually it reached a head. The salamander had stockpiled plenty of extra snails in and around its pond, and it started to hunger for something greater: Power. The power of claws, the power to snatch food from the very air, the power of asserting its will onto the world, and making manifest its desires. It would seek out a new mantis. A brethren of the interloper, to collect the debt owed by its kin.

The salamander began to plot. Surely, if one mantis went after snails, another could as well. So the salamander took up 2 snails in its mouth and set out for the old battlefield. It placed the snails on the same rock, recognizable by the smeared moss, a scar that marked the earth with a site of war. Then, it waited.

And it waited. To pass the time, it practiced balancing on one or two of its legs at a time.

And waited. To pass the time, it swam in tight circles, using one leg as a pivot.

And waited, floating upside down…

And waited, balancing on its head…

Until the sun began to dim behind its firmament, the salamander waited, and watched the bait snails, placed atop the rock as if to beg favor from an unknowable deity. Nothing came. No mantis. No debtor come to make the salamander whole. No gift from on high. Just the wind, noticeably colder now than when the salamander had first begun to Think, surely as a foul portent of the coming cold, with this lack of mantis the first salvo in the season of scarcity.

So the salamander went home to its pond. Frustrated, but patient, and remaining confident in the inevitability of victory. It slept, and the next day, it tried again. It once more placed two snails on the rock, and it once more sat in the water, still as it could manage, watching for the mantis that would surely come.

Again, nothing came, and the cold of night rolled over the land to shoo it home.

The salamander was disappointed. Disappointed in not receiving its promised bladed arms. Disappointed in the snails for failing to attract a mantis. But even over the disappointed, and for the first time, it felt longing. It longed for answers, explanation, purpose to this failure, some kind of meaning, and it found none.

So, desperate for reason and explanation to its failures, it turned blame on itself. “Surely, had I only ate more thoroughly, or dreamt more deeply, I’d have the claws I desire.” It found its way to the entrance of its pond, but paused before entering.

“I don’t deserve this palace I have built for myself. I don’t deserve the snails I have stockpiled. This is my fault. I am weak, feeble, undeserving of life. My grandiose visions, my eternal dynasty established over this pond and creek, it is all for naught. The delusions of a weak, desperate fool. Death comes for us all, and swiftly for me.”

It felt the pointless futility of struggling against fate. It felt the despair of falling through the ice, knowing death was imminent. It had risked life and limb to climb the tallest of trees, and look out upon the world from the highest point, only to discover mountains on all sides.

By now the salamander had returned to its pond, to its resting spot at the bottom, where it had pinned its snails under the rocks. It lulled itself to sleep with the bittersweet and thorny blanket of self-pity.

=========================

[corvidlore]

In the least evil-science-ethics-violation way possible I r e a l l y want to know what you could hybridize humans with. Take all of the ethical questions and stuff out of it, just thinking with pure whimsy. Bird people that can fly. Turtle people that have extremely long lifespans. Fish people because mermaids. Lobster people who are immortal. Mantis shrimp boxers.

But also like ethically that would probably be a very bad/10 and lead to some extremely problematic human rights violations and eugenics issues.

NEW FISH JUST DROPPED

[okasuka]

more stuff i wrote last night - all peter quill x oc btw ———

“A New Guardian”

The bar was dimly lit, its air heavy with the stench of spilled beer and stale smoke. The Guardians of the Galaxy had claimed a booth near the back, where Peter Quill—Star-Lord—sat slumped over the table, drink in hand. His posture screamed defeat, as if the universe had dealt him one too many blows. And it had. Losing Gamora had fractured something in him, something that no amount of alcohol could patch together.

At the far end of the bar, you sat nursing a bottle of beer, your red eyes trained on the empty glass in front of you. Your short black hair hung messily over your face, and the faint clink of your glasses against the rim of your bottle was the only sound you made. Alone in a crowd of rowdy strangers, you brooded, your thoughts as heavy as the thick leather jacket you wore.

You weren’t trying to draw attention, but it was hard to miss Peter Quill’s increasing volume as he slurred through some broken rendition of an old Earth song.

“God, he’s drunk,” muttered Rocket from the Guardians’ table, shaking his head. The raccoon leaned back in his seat, sipping what looked like an absurdly large cocktail for his small hands.

“I can’t believe I have to share oxygen with this idiot sometimes,” muttered Mantis, though her tone carried a hint of sympathy.

“Maybe we should take him back to the ship,” Kraglin offered, glancing uneasily at Quill.

“Can’t,” Rocket grumbled. “Drax and Nebula took the Milano to grab parts for the engines. We’re stuck here ’til morning.”

As if summoned by their conversation, Peter staggered to his feet and stumbled across the bar, drink in hand. You watched his approach with a raised brow, already sensing trouble. He leaned heavily on the counter next to you, his blue eyes glassy and unfocused.

“You… you’re not drinkin’ alone, are ya?” he slurred, grinning lopsidedly.

“Not anymore,” you deadpanned, not bothering to look directly at him.

“Good… good. Nobody should drink alone. It’s… tragic.” He swayed on his feet, and before you could respond, his face turned an alarming shade of green.

“Don’t you dare—”

Too late. Peter Quill vomited. On you.

The bar fell silent for a moment before chaos resumed. Your face twisted in annoyance, but you didn’t react as violently as anyone else might have. Instead, you sighed, set your beer down, and pulled off your jacket, now ruined with the mess.

“Wow. He actually did it,” Rocket said, hopping down from the booth and approaching you. Mantis followed, her hands clasped in concern.

“We are so sorry!” Mantis exclaimed.

“It’s fine,” you said flatly, though your tone carried a distinct edge.

Rocket sniffed the air and winced. “No, it’s not fine. Dude’s a mess.”

Quill slumped to the floor, muttering something incoherent. You crouched down, checking his pulse more out of instinct than concern. “He’ll live. Barely.”

“Guess we can’t just leave him here,” Rocket said, scratching his chin.

You shrugged. “If you can’t take him back to your ship, I’ll do it. Got nothing better to do.”

Rocket raised a brow at you. “You sure? He puked on you.”

You smirked faintly. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

With surprising ease, you hoisted Peter onto your shoulders and began making your way toward the exit, Rocket and Mantis trailing behind you.

Back on the Guardians’ ship, Peter was dumped unceremoniously onto a cot in the common room. Rocket handed you a towel while Mantis hurried to grab some water.

“So, what’s your deal?” Rocket asked as you wiped the remnants of Quill’s bad decisions off your arms.

“Used to be a bounty hunter, X-35.” you said, your tone still stoic.

“Used to be?”

“Got fired. Violation of contract.”

Rocket’s ears perked up. “What’d you do?”

You hesitated, then sighed. “Some corporate type wanted me to kill a kid. I said no. Apparently, that’s against the rules.”

Rocket’s expression softened. “Heh. Sounds like you got a moral compass. Rare in our line of work.”

You shrugged. “Didn’t help me keep my job.”

Rocket leaned against the counter, studying you. “Well, if you’re not doing anything else, we could use someone like you on the team. Pays next to nothing, and the benefits suck, but the company’s… tolerable.”

You raised a brow, looking between him and the unconscious Peter Quill. “You’re seriously offering me a spot on the Guardians because your boss puked on me?”

“Eh, you seem like you can handle yourself,” Rocket said with a smirk. “Plus, anyone who stands up to corpo scum is alright in my book.”

You considered the offer for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I’m in.”

Mantis returned just in time to hear your answer and clapped her hands together excitedly. “Yay! New friend!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, but there was a flicker of amusement in your red eyes.

Rocket chuckled. “Welcome to the madhouse, X-35.”

You smirked faintly. “Just call me Y/N.”

As you sat back, listening to Rocket grumble about Quill’s antics, you felt a strange sense of belonging. Maybe this ragtag group of misfits was exactly what you needed.

The hum of the ship’s engines was a soothing background as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the common area with Rocket. Tools and spare parts were scattered between you as you both worked on fixing a busted auxiliary panel. It was refreshing to talk to someone who understood mechanics, and Rocket seemed equally thrilled to have someone who could keep up with his rapid-fire explanations.

“See, the problem with most people is they think bigger wires mean better power flow,” Rocket said, gesturing with a small spanner. “But it’s all about the connection points. You gotta optimize the flow through—”

“—the conductor, not just the gauge,” you finished, nodding. You picked up a smaller tool and started tweaking a frayed wire. “Seen it a hundred times. People think throwing more parts at the problem fixes it, but it just clogs up the system.”

Rocket barked a laugh. “Finally, someone gets it! I’m surrounded by a bunch of tech illiterates most of the time. Quill’s idea of fixing something is hitting it until it works.”

You smirked faintly, glancing at him. “Can’t imagine that works well with spaceship systems.”

“Don’t even get me started,” Rocket grumbled.

The sound of footsteps made you glance toward the cockpit. Nebula, Drax, and Groot had just returned from their trip, the trio pausing as they caught sight of you and Rocket sitting together.

Nebula’s cybernetic eyes narrowed slightly. “Who’s this?”

Drax tilted his head, scrutinizing you. “I do not recognize this person. Did we kidnap her?”

“I am Groot?” Groot asked curiously, pointing at you.

Rocket groaned and gestured toward you with a wrench. “No, we didn’t kidnap her, Drax. This is Y/N. She’s new. Long story short, Quill threw up on her, and now she’s one of us.”

You sighed, standing up and dusting your hands off. “Thanks for that intro, Rocket.”

Nebula crossed her arms, stepping closer. “And what do you do, Y/N?”

Without a word, you extended your claws, the sharp metal glinting under the cockpit lights. Nebula’s eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of something like admiration crossing her face.

“Impressive,” she said, stepping forward to examine them more closely. “Are those laced with vibranium or adamantium?”

“Adamantium,” you replied.

She nodded approvingly and extended her hand. “Nebula. Welcome aboard.”

You retracted your claws and shook her hand, her grip firm and precise.

Drax’s booming voice interrupted the moment. “You are very small, yet you exude great danger. Like a particularly angry rodent.”

Rocket’s ears flicked, and he glared at Drax. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?!”

“It is the highest compliment I can give,” Drax replied earnestly.

You couldn’t help the faint smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Thanks, I guess.”

Nebula raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into the barest hint of a smirk. “You’ll fit right in here.”

Rocket snorted, hopping to his feet. “Yeah, yeah. Enough with the bonding. Come on, Y/N. Let’s finish this panel before Quill wakes up and tries to ‘help.’”

You followed Rocket back to the scattered tools, shaking your head but already feeling oddly at home. It seemed like this dysfunctional crew might be just what you needed after all.

The main deck was quiet, the kind of lull that happened when most of the crew was either resting or preoccupied. You lounged in one of the corner seats, your knees pulled up to your chest as you scrolled through the songs on your old, battered MP3 player. The cracked screen made it hard to read the titles, but you knew your playlist well enough. Your headphones, held together with tape and hope, blasted a low hum of music directly into your ears.

Mantis sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, curiously watching as you navigated the ancient device. Her head tilted slightly, her antennae twitching with interest.

“What is that?” she asked, pointing at the MP3 player.

“Music player,” you said without looking up.

“It looks… very old,” she said thoughtfully. “But you seem to like it.”

You smirked faintly, glancing at her. “It’s not much, but it works.”

Mantis scooted a little closer, her gaze flicking between the MP3 and your face. “Are you from Earth? This music… it reminds me of Peter’s songs.”

You paused for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I’m from Earth. But I left a long time ago.”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “Like Peter? Did you have family there? Friends?”

You hesitated, staring at the shattered screen of the MP3. “Not anymore.”

Mantis sensed your discomfort and reached out, lightly placing her hand on your arm. “I’m sorry. You must miss it.”

You shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Earth wasn’t exactly a paradise for me. Out here’s not much better, but at least I’m not stuck there.”

Before Mantis could reply, a groggy voice interrupted from across the room.

“Okay… what the hell happened?”

You turned your head to see Peter Quill stumbling into the main deck, looking like he’d just crawled out of a nightmare. He rubbed his temples, squinting at the harsh ship lights.

Rocket’s voice called out from the other room. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake!”

Peter ignored him, his bleary eyes landing on you. He blinked a few times, trying to process the sight of a stranger sitting comfortably in his ship, headphones on and an air of disinterest.

“Uh… who are you?” he asked, pointing a finger in your direction.

You didn’t look up, still scrolling through your playlist. “Y/N.”

Peter frowned, clearly trying to piece things together. “Wait. Y/N… the one I—” He froze, his face turning red. “Oh my God. I threw up on you, didn’t I?”

Mantis giggled softly, covering her mouth.

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, finally looking at him. “You owe me a jacket, by the way.”

Peter winced, scratching the back of his neck. “Right. Okay. Uh… I’m sorry about that. I was, uh, going through some stuff.”

Rocket’s voice echoed again. “He was wasted!”

“Shut up, Rocket!” Peter snapped, before turning back to you. His expression shifted from embarrassed to what he probably thought was charming. “So, uh… Y/N. You’re… staying here now?”

“Seems that way,” you said, plugging one earbud back in.

Peter leaned casually against the wall, his grin widening. “Well, if you’re gonna be part of the team, maybe we should, you know, get to know each other. Over drinks or something? I’m a great conversationalist when I’m not…” He gestured vaguely. “…you know, unconscious or throwing up.”

You gave him a blank look, unimpressed. “Hard pass.”

Mantis laughed openly now, clapping her hands together. “She’s very direct!”

Peter’s grin faltered for a second, but he quickly recovered, brushing it off. “Alright, alright. Playing hard to get. I can respect that.”

Rocket appeared in the doorway, smirking. “Oh, buddy. She’s not playing.”

You rolled your eyes, putting your headphones back on and turning up the music. Peter stood there for a moment, looking at you with a mix of confusion and intrigue. Finally, he shook his head and muttered, “Alright, this is gonna be fun.”

As you leaned back in your seat, drowning out the noise of the ship with the comforting hum of your music, you couldn’t help but smirk faintly. If this crew thought they could surprise you, they were in for a rude awakening.

The dim light of your room was just bright enough for you to sort through the scattered tools and gadgets you had managed to claim as your own. You were methodically adjusting a loose hinge on your bedside table when it hit you—your bag. You had left it in the main deck.

Sighing, you stood up, knowing full well that this ship’s crew wasn’t known for respecting boundaries. With your luck, Rocket would be picking through it already. You threw on your jacket and made your way toward the deck.

Peter Quill sat on the couch in the main deck, your bag perched on his lap. He wasn’t exactly snooping—at least, that’s what he told himself. He’d been curious, that was all. A new team member meant new mysteries, and Peter had always been too nosy for his own good.

He fished out a handful of items, raising an eyebrow as he examined each one.

“Beer… okay, solid choice,” he muttered, setting the bottle on the table. Next, he pulled out a collection of small knife sharpeners, clearly designed for use on your claws. “Alright, that’s… intense, but cool. I guess.”

The next handful revealed metal scrap pieces, some clearly salvaged from busted machines. He turned a jagged piece over in his hand, muttering, “Rocket’s gonna love this.”

Digging deeper, he pulled out a stack of old comics, the corners worn and the covers faded. His eyes lit up as he flipped through one, recognizing a vintage edition of Spider-Man.

“Okay, she’s got taste,” he said with a grin.

Finally, he found a bundle of clothes. Simple, functional pieces—nothing flashy—but they carried the faint scent of oil and leather.

Before he could dig any deeper, he felt a shadow fall over him. He looked up slowly to see you standing in the doorway, your red eyes glowing faintly in the low light.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, your voice icy.

Peter froze, holding the comic awkwardly in one hand. “Uh… just, you know, making sure you didn’t leave anything dangerous lying around. Safety first and all that.”

“Dangerous?” you repeated, stepping into the room. You extended your claws with a menacing snikt, the sound slicing through the tense air. “You mean like this?”

Peter gulped, holding his hands up defensively. “Okay, okay! Look, I wasn’t trying to be a creep. I just—”

“You were going through my stuff,” you snapped, your claws glinting as you stepped closer. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pin you to that wall right now.”

“Whoa, whoa, let’s not do anything rash,” Peter stammered, his voice rising slightly in pitch. “I swear I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy! I just… got curious. You’re new, and—”

“Curious?” you growled, grabbing the bag from his lap. “Stay curious about your own damn business.”

Peter stood slowly, his hands still raised. “Alright, fair point. I crossed a line. I’m sorry, okay?”

You stared at him for a long moment before retracting your claws with a sharp exhale. “Next time you touch my stuff, I won’t stop at threatening.”

Peter gave a sheepish nod, rubbing the back of his neck. “Got it. Loud and clear.”

You slung the bag over your shoulder, giving him one last glare before turning on your heel and heading back toward your room.

Peter watched you leave, a mix of nervousness and admiration flickering in his eyes. “Damn,” he muttered to himself. “She’s scary… and kind of awesome.”

Rocket poked his head into the room, clearly having overheard the commotion. “You snooped in her bag, didn’t you?”

“Shut up, Rocket,” Peter groaned.

The next morning, the cockpit was filled with soft music, a blend of vintage Earth tracks you’d pulled from your old MP3 player. The tunes hummed low, a comforting rhythm that helped you focus as you tinkered with some tools you’d scavenged from the ship’s spare parts.

The sun’s rays filtered through the ship’s windows, casting a warm glow on your workspace. You carefully used your claws to cut through a strip of metal, shaping it into a makeshift bracket. Sparks flew with each precise motion, the sound blending with the steady beat of the music.

Behind you, a groggy Peter Quill stumbled into the cockpit, rubbing his eyes. He froze when he saw you, his face lighting up with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

“Morning,” he said, his voice still raspy from sleep.

You glanced at him briefly, then returned to your work. “Morning.”

Peter leaned against the doorframe, watching you with interest. “You’re up early.”

“Always am,” you replied, keeping your attention on the metal in your hands.

He stepped closer, listening to the music playing from your headphones, one side hanging loosely around your neck. “Nice playlist. Old school. Very Earth-y.”

You smirked faintly but didn’t respond.

Peter’s gaze drifted to the tools in front of you. “What’re you working on?”

“Fixing the stabilizers on this ship,” you said. “Rocket mentioned they were acting up. Figured I’d help before he starts swearing about it.”

Peter grinned. “Huh. Handy and thoughtful. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

You shot him a dry look. “Don’t push it, Quill.”

He held up his hands defensively, then tapped his fingers to the beat of the music. After a moment, he said, “You know, this song’s got a good groove to it.”

“Okay?”

He stepped forward, extending his hand toward you. “Dance with me.”

You froze, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “What?”

“Dance with me,” Peter repeated, that familiar, cocky grin spreading across his face. “Come on. It’ll be fun. I promise I won’t step on your feet.”

You gave him a skeptical look, your claws retracting as you set down the tools. “Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s morning, the music’s good, and we’re both here,” he said simply. “What else are you gonna do? Work all day?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I hate that you almost make a good point.”

Peter smirked, extending his hand again. “Almost?”

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up. “Fine. One song. If you make this weird, I’m stabbing you.”

“Deal,” he said with a grin.

He spun you gently, leading you into an easy rhythm. The music flowed, and despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself matching his steps. Peter’s movements were surprisingly smooth, his confidence making up for any lack of precision.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, swaying to the music as Peter’s grin grew wider. “See? You’re not half bad at this.”

“You talk too much,” you muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at your lips.

Unbeknownst to you both, Drax and Mantis peeked around the corner of the hallway, watching the scene unfold.

“They are dancing,” Drax whispered loudly, his voice carrying into the cockpit.

“Shhh!” Mantis said, clasping her hands together. “It’s so cute!”

You froze mid-step, immediately noticing the two gawking at you. Peter turned, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, come on, guys. Privacy?”

You groaned, stepping away from Peter and crossing your arms. “This is why I don’t do anything fun.”

Mantis giggled, waving at you both. “Don’t stop! You look so happy!”

Drax nodded solemnly. “You two have good form. Like a pair of graceful predators.”

You shot them both a glare, then turned back to Peter. “Next time, we lock the door.”

Peter chuckled, shrugging. “Hey, at least they think we’re graceful.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your tools, muttering, “I need coffee.”

As you walked past Mantis and Drax, who were still smiling like proud parents, you shook your head. “This crew is going to be the death of me.”

Months had passed since you’d joined the Guardians, and you’d settled into the chaotic rhythm of life aboard the ship. You had your own space, your own tasks, and—though you’d never admit it out loud—a begrudging sense of belonging. Even Nebula had warmed up to you (as much as someone like her could). Rocket still made his snarky comments, but you’d learned to give as good as you got.

But the one person who’d been harder to ignore was Peter Quill.

Despite your best efforts to keep him at arm’s length, Peter had a way of working past your defenses. Whether it was with his stupid jokes, his endless stories about Earth, or the way he always seemed to offer you a beer when the day got rough, he’d managed to carve out a place in your life.

Tonight, the rest of the crew was out scavenging for supplies, leaving the ship quieter than usual. You and Peter sat across from each other in the galley, each nursing a beer.

The soft glow of the ship’s lights cast a warm hue over the room, and a familiar Earth song played faintly in the background from Peter’s Zune.

“You know,” Peter began, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence. “You’ve been with us for a while now.”

You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your beer. “Yeah. Thanks for noticing.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I mean… you’ve fit in. More than I thought you would.”

“That supposed to be a compliment?” you asked, smirking.

“Absolutely,” he said with a grin. “You’re tough, smart, and, uh…” He hesitated, his confidence wavering slightly. “Really great to have around.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Where’s this coming from?”

Peter sighed, setting his beer down. For once, he looked serious. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking about it. About you.” He gestured between the two of you. “And I guess what I’m trying to say is… I like you. Like, really like you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden honesty.

“I know I’m not exactly the smoothest guy, but I mean it,” he continued, running a hand through his hair. “You’re amazing, Y/N. And, well… I had to say something before one of us gets blown up or something stupid like that.”

You stared at him for a long moment, letting his words sink in. Then, without a word, you leaned over the table, grabbed the front of his shirt, and kissed him.

It was brief but firm, enough to leave him blinking in stunned silence when you pulled back.

“Don’t get cocky,” you said, smirking as you sat back down and picked up your beer again.

Peter touched his lips, his face breaking into a wide, boyish grin. “Noted,” he said, trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence again, the unspoken tension between you finally broken. For once, it felt like things were exactly as they should be.

[k00323463]

Me and You workshop/Studio Space.

This week I explored the use of a mantis as a symbolic animal in my work. The mantis is usually associated with danger and transformation, it is often recognized for the females cannibalistic nature, as they consume the male after mating.

To me this represents the idea of reclaiming power and control. A symbol of owning my own sexuality in a world of violation and sexual violence against women.

In the above piece I assembled the female form with mantis claws and a mantis head.

(Pencil/Marker Sketch and Oil Pastels)

I found a small mantis figurine in my room which sparked my interest in using the bug as a symbol, I was also able to use it as a reference.

[paneldump]

The WIPs ! Namorita was switched to mantis because no physical violator sadly. Other than that they had everything I wanted at Iron Wind Metals and it was so cool to get a tour of their warehouse!

[stilldoingapplescience]

Ritsu meets with the only remaining human employees of Aperture Science and over the course of a single conversation has found no less than 30 legal violations Aperture apparently committed in the past...

"Now, tell me about the part where they gave people cancerous tumors?"

"It was in 1960s and they signed waivers and stuff and how else were they supposed to run experiments on reducing tumors without tumors?"

"....and the....mantis men?"

"They signed waivers for possible damage so like-"

"But did they consent to being made into human-preying mantis hybrids?"

"In our defense we didn't know that would happen."

"Do your miles of facility at least have handrails?"

"Do we need those? I thought falling was half the fun; and who needs them when most people out and about were either an AI or had fall boots?"

Ritsu face palms into infinity.

[zooterchet]

John Warren Freemasonic Temple

Issue Assigned: Gun Control.

Prerogative Reason: Columbine, shootings inspired by the murder of a Turkish Jewess, with sniper rifle.

Profile Identified: Kip Kinkel, earmarked as Uri Geller, Mossad MI-6.

Education: Tiger Mantis Pasha, sold to Israeli government for $30,000 dollars by father; reason, debt on Chevrolet Impala, in Saigon.

Murders:

Yeltsin Russia: Town founder ally of Hopkins, the Ludlows; Elizabethan, "Bailey". Carlin Sarkesian, found on toilet, covered in feces and semen, three Uziel machine pistols and one Armalite Colt Commando recovered; prior having marched, through Hopkinton Highschool, having summoned Ashley Fayden and Afton Pavletic, viewed as lesbian by Sonya Savdie at Holocaust Museum in New York City.

Netanyahu Israel: MUSH developer Alex Fleming, having opposed playership of "Rajura Doji", as Yakuza takeover of Japan, "Attack of the Clones"; played by "Mini-Peebo", 2003, the seizure of character as played superior. "Rungo" summoned, to hunt "Amano", Yakuza thieves dojo code, implanted into Hawaiian Navy, US Navy Coastal Defense of Megaman MUSH. Observed of police officers, having dumped own lunches unfinished, into dumpsters, in violation of OSHA code of local state.

Elizabethan Holland: Matthew Lennox, having joined High Times magazine coalition, against Reese, Doyle, and Elders, supporting Taylors and Colellas, favored for Charlebois family to support Hopkinton EON Gast, against forces of Elizabethans, Ludlows, "Spider"; print of common comics. Marine Corps elements, pinned down, in non-payer commune medicine, outside of Obama Care (ACA), through separate bankers brokers of Baker administration; found in sales of Oxycontins and Chlorozenpine, attempting to duplicate agent outside of police chief assistance.

Persian Mossad: Michael Charlebois, having sought to make son heterosexual in terms of "The Simpsons", episode marked and frauded to reveal as Anthony Parziale, common figure partnered to FBI agent Danielle Murr, on Clearchannel; Arkansas greater south radio, out of George W. Bush's office; offered as a clear tell, in cards, to reveal Bill Clinton as Little Rock killer, at expense of own reputation. Dr. Joshua Golden, as having purveyed Jewish practice, outside of FBI's knowledge, with son reporting for "Ashland News", felonious claims outside of Ashland's jurisdiction, by prior orders of assassin.

Israeli Defense Forces: Eric Frein of Christian Identity Disorder, alias "Har Rosen", hunted by Alexandra Rhzanova, married name, through Matthew Lennox, Brian Monaghan, and David Charlebois; covered at FOX, through Sagat family, Kara Williamson, "Crux", given assassins muster to hunt all IDF Holocaust Museum historians, at arrest given hunts of police having been victims of genocide of Germany, and Italy, smoking marijuana as depicted by Harmony Korine; "swing kids", Jews, just like you.

Elie Wiesel: Theft of semen of DEA operative Zach Savell, given return of child to Savell family, Alfonse y Aragorn, inventor of roast beef and source of first democratically elected leader of world history, Barack Hussein Obama; al-Saffah, "the butcher", returning whiskey and pork to Middle East; clean Malay bitters, Jim Beam, the Fahds, and bacon pulled foot, the cold cuts; frying pans apparent in colloquiam, the answer to Uthman, Aragorn's line. Elie Wiesel, hunted at stadium parliament apartment, by George Soros, for theft of semen from David Charlebois, through Serbian dominatrix. A disturbance in the Force. The Emperor, Matthew Lennox, is displeased. But perhaps, something can be made of the child.

[sultanaislammow]

VVIP membership: the necessary threshold for platform ecological health

The adjustment of the membership system is essentially HE Tuber for a better user experience, but from the overall development level of Weibo, it means the upgrade of the content track and the development of the platform ecology.

From a content perspective, through membership grading, Weibo not only covers 95% of user needs, but also provides tailor-made matching of the rights and interests of each type of member. With a stronger sense of experience, user stickiness will increase, and the continued growth of active users will also be assisted.

Public data shows that in the first quarter of 2023, Weibo’s active users maintained strong growth, with monthly active users reaching 593 million, a year-on-year net increase of 11 million, and daily active users reaching 255 million, a year-on-year net increase of 3 million.

With the support of the new membership system, especially the release of rights at the VVIP membership level, Weibo's active user base will have a considerable growth expectation, injecting fresh energy into Weibo's content ecology.

For the platform ecology, as more and more leading members will grow on Weibo and realize user value, Weibo must set certain entry thresholds for content monetization in order to standardize the platform content ecology and create new opportunities for users. A harmonious and healthy cyberspace.

Weibo adjusted its membership system and launched the VVIP membership level, which is one of the measures to help the platform strengthen ecological governance in addition to meeting user needs.

After all, since its inception, network security has always been a key "homework" for Weibo to fulfill its social responsibilities, and it has continuously submitted good "answer sheets" through product updates, innovative operating models, etc.

And in the current era of content explosion, it is inevitable to have both mud and sand. Of course, Weibo will take into account the ecological health of the platform and set certain thresholds to ensure the balance between the ecological health of the platform, the rationality of member monetization, and the authenticity of the content consumed by users.

Some people may also question whether Weibo is trying to make money by launching a new membership system.

"Mantis Observation" believes that as a leading social media platform that has been iteratively updating in line with the trends of the times for more than ten years, Weibo will not be so short-sighted as to rely on the "infinite matryoshka doll game" of the membership system to generate revenue.

Its real purpose is to build the platform's high-quality operating capabilities through a reasonable membership system, reduce the cost of platform content ecological management, and move toward longer-term development by creating a healthy platform environment.

Because the VVIP membership level is based on a paid model, while allowing top users to obtain platform resources, it also enters the scope of platform supervision and user supervision through more specific and true identity and business activity information. Reasonable and legal content will be protected by the platform.

Correspondingly, low-quality content such as plagiarism and violations can be managed and restrained in a timely manner to reduce network chaos.

As Weibo’s general manager of membership and content value-added (Weibo account @朱哥) said, VVIP members “provide an identity through ‘payment behavior’ and set an entry threshold for monetizing content and traffic. " .

At this point, Twitter has taken action. In order to improve the authenticity and quality of advertising on the platform, owners or businesses who want to place ads on the Twitter platform must subscribe to the Twitter Blue service, which costs $8 per month (currently about 55 yuan), and can only be placed after passing verification. advertise.