#part of me blames the algorithm

[howlingday]

Me: Man, I love this series!

YouTube: Oh, really? Would you like to see more~?

Me: YEAH!

YouTube: OKAY! Here's thirty different videos of people calling this show garbage and why it's a colossal waste of time to get involved.

Me: ...

[sunnyyflowerrs]

me: i need to lock the fuck in

discord and tumblr: exists

me: curse these addictive algorithms (rots day away)

[hugheswho]

Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep?

Summary: You come across an edit of young Luke while he’s asleep next to you in bed. You can’t hide your emotions and wake him up from crying so violently. 

Paring: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

Warnings: all fluff and crying <3

Author’s Note: Inspired by this tiktok i saw a few months ago that made me gasp out loud. Haven’t stopped thinking about it since

Word Count: 1.7k

It’s late. Really late. Too late to be on your phone. You’re too engrossed in TikTok, convincing yourself it’s okay to endlessly scroll as a way to shut your brain off after a busy day. Luke has been snoozing away next to you for hours at this point.

There really is no rhyme or reason to your For You Page. Some are recipe videos, some are stand-up comedy bits, and others are part 16 of a full-length feature film. You tell yourself you’ll stop scrolling once you find the best video of the night. The right TikTok that satisfies you enough to say ‘Okay, yeah, I should stop now.”

You think you’ve found it when you scroll once more and your boyfriend appears on your screen. You’ve never actively searched Luke’s name on TikTok, but it doesn’t surprise you that he shows up quite a bit. From the number of times you like the Devils' posts, send things to Luke, and, quite frankly, just say his name out loud, you know your phone is listening to you. The algorithm knows all. Can you blame a girl for indulging in some thirst traps of her boyfriend?

A soft smile forms on your face as the video starts, Hozier’s cover of Do I Wanna Know? playing over clips of Luke. Nothing too crazy, just some clips of him in interviews. You’ve seen this trend before and wait with bated breath, expecting the song to flip to the original Arctic Monkeys version with clips of Luke looking rather…. scrumptious. 

But that doesn’t happen. The song doesn’t change; instead, the shots of Luke do. It’s no longer the current-day man that sleeps a foot away from you. Rather, it’s young Luke. The boy who became your best friend at birth. The boy you grew up with. The boy you fell in love with. 

The switch to adolescent Luke feels like a gut punch. You can’t stop thinking about your lives together. How you’ve always had one another. Even in those clips of baby Luke, you knew him when he first learned to skate. You knew him during his time in the program. You know him now, fulfilling his dream of being in the NHL.

It suddenly became all too much. You don’t even realize you’re crying until a tear drops onto your phone screen. The more you rewatch the video, the more you cry. You think you have it under control, but every time the plot twist happens, your body betrays you, shuddering and gasping. You cover your mouth with your hand when you start to feel something shifting next to you. 

“Babe? What’s going on?” You hear a very tired and confused Luke rasp out. 

Still actively crying in the dark, you respond, “Nothing Lu, go back to sleep.” You hope he’s too drowsy that he can’t properly comprehend your mental state. There’s no way you can explain this to him right now. 

“Are you laughing or crying?” Luke asks, having definitely picked up on your unsteady voice. 

“I think both?” you answer truthfully. This is seriously ridiculous, you think to yourself. The absurdity of the moment makes you cry more. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Luke softly questions while leaning over to turn the bedside lamp on.

When the bulb illuminates the room, you get your first good look at his face since before you both retired to bed hours ago. And that just breaks the dam. The sight of his matured face, merely inches away from you, combined with the young, baby-faced Luke you were just watching on repeat, causes you to wail out a full-on sob. 

Luke’s eyes go wide, sleep fully gone from his body. He quickly caresses your arm up and down to soothe you.

“Am I that ugly?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

“No, no, not at all. I just…” you trail off. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

This can’t be happening. What are you even supposed to reply? Tell the truth and look like a fool? He’s never going to let you live it down. 

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” You settle on, hoping he’ll just let it go.

“It’s not stupid if it has you this upset.” God, why is he so good to you? Your tears still fall, this time at his tender care for you. 

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t,” Luke says seriously, staring into your eyes. You frown to yourself, not budging. “Baby, please tell me why you’re crying. I’m not going back to sleep until we figure this out.”

Looking back at him, you sigh, “It’s silly,” your last futile attempt to get out of this hole you’ve dug yourself into. If only you were a quieter crier. 

Luke just fixes you a look, his eyes boring into yours, as to say ‘I’m not dropping this.’ You finally cave and turn your phone towards him. Luke’s brows furrow as the video starts, confused about where this is headed. 

“A TikTok made you cry?”

You weakly roll your eyes at your chronically offline boyfriend. 

“When don’t TikToks make me cry?” you ask rhetorically, earning a laugh from Luke. 

As the video shifts to clips of young Luke, and your breathing gets a bit more staggered rewatching, Luke softly smiles to himself. His eyes look in your direction and see the look on your face. One full of love. 

Luke knows he’s still young, but those moments seem like a lifetime ago. He can’t believe how far he’s come in such a short amount of time. He’d say he can’t believe you’ve been there alongside him the whole time, except he can believe it. Because that’s who you are. That’s who you’ve always been to him. The person he could turn to for anything. When he wasn’t sure if being drafted to the Devils would be a good or bad thing for him. When he felt his whole life turn upside down in a second as he left Tampa after losing the Frozen Four. When he felt like he wasn’t the player he knew he could be during his rookie year. All those moments where Luke felt like the walls were crashing in on him, you single-handedly pushed them off of him. 

Then the video ends, and you both turn to look at each other. Your lips are pulled into the cutest little frown, eyes glassy and red, with a stray tear rolling down to your neck. Luke takes in the sight before him and bites his lip to make sure he doesn’t crack, but you see right through him. 

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T LAUGH!”

“I'M NOT LAUGHING! I’m just… smiling because you’re so cute.” Luke reacts, clearly laughing. 

You just pout, letting out a whine as you roll your head onto Luke’s shoulder. Instinctively, he wraps his arm around your waist to get you as close as possible. 

“Baby, why did that make you cry?” Luke inquires while softly brushing the hair on the back of your head with his free hand. His head rests atop yours. 

“Because you were so young and that was the boy I fell in love with but waited so long to tell when we could've been loving each other since then instead of both suffering in silence!” You blurt out in one whole sentence, no time for pauses, as your tears start back up at how much time you feel you’ve lost with Luke. 

“You’re acting like we weren’t in each other's lives then,” Luke replied amused at your dramatics but still soft enough to let you know he’s not dismissing you. 

“But we weren’t in the way we are now. And you were so precious then! But I didn’t get to kiss your face the way I do now when I think you’re being cute!” 

Luke fondly smiles before saying “we happened when we were meant to happen.” 

“You didn’t even know I loved you then,” you mumble as you wipe your tears, not happy your boyfriend isn’t indulging in your pity party. 

Silence washes over the two of you. Luke continues to stroke your arm as a means of comfort. He turns his head to place a kiss on your temple. 

“I did. I knew.” 

You pivot your head to look at your boyfriend. Faces only a few inches away from each other. There’s something about Luke’s eyes that act as a magnetic force. Once you catch a glance, you can’t look away. 

“Yeah?” you ask above a whisper, not wanting to seem too hopeful, as if he’d care about that. 

“Yeah.” 

You suddenly feel vulnerable. You and Luke have been in each others lives since birth. You started dating after his playoffs debut. Obviously both of you loved each other before then. However, you never really went into when you both fell in love. You feel exposed having told Luke you loved him since your early teens. 

Needing his reassurance, you quietly ask, “and you loved me then too?”

Luke’s stoic face lights up, a smile slowly stretching across it. 

“Completely adored.”

You swallow your nerves down with the revelation of Luke loving you back at the same time. With the new found confidence, you say “so why not then? Why didn’t we get together years ago instead of waiting?”

“We were young,” Luke shrugs before continuing, “I don’t think we would’ve been able to give each other what we wanted if we started then. We both had to figure out who we were before we committed to this.”

“But it’s us,” you defend, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Because it is. 

Luke laughs at your persuasiveness. 

“Look, we both wanted each other then, right? But we both had so much maturing to do. And once we did that, we both still wanted each other. That’s how we were able to find our way to where we are now. Neither of us were in the way of the other, we were just…on the sideline. Cheering each other into the right path.” 

The tears start again. You look down at your phone, picturing all the memories of you and Luke as toddlers, kids, teenagers, and now young adults. 

“I miss us being young together,” you confess. 

“You’re going to say that about us now in thirty years. We have the rest of our lives to spend together. And prove how much we love each other,” Luke reassures you, and you know he means it. 

“Now can you please put your phone away and cuddle with me?” 

[zlo-sovs-lifeboat]

I don't know why i keep doing this shit. The easiest answer is that it's the only thing i have left to do. And I've been doing it for so long i don't really know how to stop. It never does well, it never paid enough dividends to live off even when i fill my commissions beyond capacity and charged extraordinarily for it. I don't really enjoy it, which is a mute point because i haven't enjoyed anything in a long time

I guess it's just something to do while i search for a way of killing myself that works. Worst part about it is that i can't even die right, i try, but it never works, usually just makes my life worse.

I guess i am to blame for all of this somehow, fuck knows where i went wrong or how but it's my fault. People like to say "oh you make cool stuff" but these motherfuckers always disappear when i actually try to do something substantial. Maybe it's a curse. Maybe I'm such a cunt i drive them away. Maybe the algorithm just fucking hates me. The only thing i know for sure is that i am never gonna make it big. Lord knows i tried, i have been trying for more than half a decade, working harder and harder expecting labor to change things when it was clear it's a futile effort.And the only thing i have to show for that is 30000 twitter followers i got by literal accident, and nothing else. last year ,A full year of commission work earned me just shy of 4000$, i can't do this full time. I can't find a job either. so I'm just kinda... fucked i guess

[ohnoitstbskyen]

... y'all know Lae'zel is acting scared, right?

Video transcription: I've seen a lot of comments on my short about Lae'zel dismissing her entire character because she's mean and… I'm just checking in here… you guys know she's scared, right? She's terrified. She was kidnapped by the worst monster she knows, infected with the most horrifying death anyone in her culture can have, and then stranded on a hostile world, alone, with nothing to guide her except the dogmatic military cult indoctrination of a cruel lich demigod, telling her that her only hope of salvation is to follow Gith doctrine with total unyielding faith. And still she tries to save you. When she keeps insisting that you must get to the Githyanki crèche, it's our only hope, she's trying to guide you towards the only salvation she knows from the parasite, so she can share it with you. And Gith... aren't supposed to do that, saving an outsider is not part of the doctrine, she's breaking the rules trying to do right by you. None of that means she's not being an asshole, she's rude, dogmatic and unpleasant. But everything she does comes from a genuine, very misguided and abrasive, desire to do the right thing. It doesn't make her behaviour okay, but there is more to her character than just "being the mean one."

To expand on this a bit more than I can in a 60 second short, people acting from fear and from their damage is a major theme among the Baldur's Gate 3 companions.

Lae'zel is terrified and falling back on the only thing she believes will give her back some control over her situation, which is the dogma of the military cult she's in. Shadowheart is much the same, amnesiac and grasping on to the only solid thing she knows, which is her faith, which preaches deception, loss and duplicity as the only certain factors in life.

Gale is an inveterate people-pleaser desperately dependent on other people to help him feed his magic addiction, with his overtly affable exterior hiding a rolling boulder of guilt, ambition, greed, arrogance and legitimate hurt. Asterion is... well, no way to really lay out his deal without spoiling, but the boy has been through it and his self-destructive, hedonistic and selfish impulses are all coping mechanism and self-defense all the time.

None of that make their shitty behaviours okay, but in a fictional story, those kinds of flaws and toxic behaviours are what make for interesting stories and characters. I don't blame anyone for finding Lae'zel unpleasant and abrasive, but I do get a bit Old Man Yells At Cloud about people who casually brag about shoving her off a cliff-side, or murdering her because "she was a bitch" or whatever.

Like... being unable to face discomfort in your media is not a virtue, and lashing out reactively against fiction that doesn't validate your power fantasy isn't a flex.

Of course, I saw a lot of those reactions in YouTube comments and on social media, so my sample is biased by those algorithms, but still. A lot of people seem aggressively proud that they never engaged with her story because the terrified indoctrinated child-soldier wasn't immediately nice to them and I can't explain it but something about that reaction feels puritan to me.

[dressed2k1ll]

I’m giving up on men because

1. The fact that they all assume they’re experts in everything

2. The fact that they all assume they’re smarter than me immediately

3. The fact that they allow and use slurs to divide women like Karen, Pick Me, Terf, The Main Character, SWERF, prude, slut bitch

4. The only slur they have is incel which relies on the premise that they’re entitled to sex

5. Moms are expected to be perfect and if she makes a mistake she’s a bad mom. Dads are considered perfect despite their mistakes and even being a poor parent

6. They think sex is a service

7. They cannot have a magic sexual moral barrier that divides children from teens from women. I refuse to believe it. And the media sexualizes kids and infantilizes female sexuality… so what now?

8. That porn is so normalized and teen is a category and yet we can’t check a man’s porn viewing history before allowing them to coach, treat, or be alone with vulnerable people.

9. That some will and can and do have sex with corpses. That deadness is sexualized in fashion photography as arousing

10. That choking has become normalized in porn

11. That we know porn becomes increasingly more extreme through algorithm and capitalism

12. That they hide behind plausible deniability and think we are too stupid to see it - like the devils advocate position

13. That they convince themselves their plausible deniability is a moral standard

14. That even the normal married ones with little girls for kids are shitty

15. That they think their pleasure overrides the civil rights of a person

16. That they believe consent magically changes abuse into kink

17. That they don’t even know what misogyny is

18. That they think misandry is somehow comparable

19. That they think my hurting their feelings or making them feel uncomfortable is a violent act. That pointing out violence makes me the violent one.

20. That they defend Johnny Depp

21. That they’re afraid of false accusations

22. That they defend the reputations of men they haven’t met more than the reality of the women who report them lmao

23. They don’t take care of themselves physically

24. They can choose to be civilized but use animal evo psychology to defend subhuman actions

25. They believe that women’s sexuality is an economy for them

26. They created religion to usurp creative power from women

27. They convinced other men that humans came from a man’s rib, from a patriarchal god, when literally no man has NOT come through and from a woman.

28. They have sexualized every aspect of women’s existence including pain and crying

29. They’ve convinced women that empowerment is a feeling and not a change in power position

30. They blame their antisocial loneliness epidemic on us

31. The tried to use the Love Languages on us

32. They created psychiatry as a way to at least in part control women just as they created medicine to control and destroy midwives

33. They place the locus of responsibility outside themselves which makes them perpetual victims

34. They created purity culture

35. They created porn culture

36. They buy and use and masturbate to trafficked and vulnerable women and it doesn’t matter to them

37. They corner me in the workplace

38. They are always looking at us - I want to not be perceived sexually at all

39. They use women for all of their emotional dumping and we aren’t certified to handle it

40. They resent our happiness (shaming it)

41. We had to create laws to keep them from marrying and having sex with kids. Like, everywhere. We haven’t even succeeded globally

42. They hold women in power to an entirely separate standard than men

43. They’re lazy

44. They can solve complex problems and be incentive and self-improving at work, but are seemingly really incapable of doing this for relationships

45. They won’t see something unless it directly impacts them personally

46. They are emotionally unintelligent

47. They are violent

48. They are wilfully ignorant of the constant threat of sexual violence women face

49. They are making and using technology to get past consent

50. They believe women have a use value

51. They’re lying when they say they can’t show emotions : art, culture, music, etc belie this. And this is aside from the fact that we acknowledge their pride, nationalism, anger, boorishness, sulkishness, entitlement, jealousy, etc. these are emotions too.

52. They use power to get or pressure or coerce sex

53. They don’t mentor women professionally unless they’re sexually attracted to them physically

54. They’re bad and aggressive drivers

55. They’re predatory and some don’t know it ???????

56. They play dumb

57. They owe us reparations and refuse to even consider this - we were left out of Das Kapital

58. They try to turn their wives into their mothers

59. They moderate men and women differently in social media spaces

60. We can’t trust them as soldiers or peace corps

61. We can’t trust them alone with kids period - who do we tell kids to go to if they’re lost?!!

62. That they’ve turned violence into sex “body count” “fuck the shit out of you”

63. We can’t be honest with them - we have to tiptoe around them

64. I’m pissed more men aren’t speaking out about the obvious loss of civil rights of women globally - what the hell! It makes me believe that they kinda want it to happen (plausible deniability of course) because like it’s not gonna hurt them right?

65. At any given time I could pull up incidents where instead of intervening while a woman is being assaulted, the assault is filmed by other men. The reverse simply doesn’t happen.

66. They love borrowed authority

67. I hate them because when they ask “what do you want me to do about it?” And you say the most slacktivist thing, they won’t even do that. They’ll do NOTHING.

68. Because the most unsafe place for a woman in the world is the home

69. Because a woman is killed by an intimate partner globally every 11 minutes

70. Because the number one cause of death for pregnant women in the states is murder

71. Because they believe their morals are their best intentions. It’s like they all think they’re brave but he’s anyone done anything brave ?

72. They use weaponized incompetence to control people and be lazy

73. They believe sexism is benevolence

74. Because someone taught them that it’s the thought that counts and it almost never is the thought that counts

75. That gang rape is a thing

76. Because only a handful of men have most of the global wealth

77. They move goalposts: you can say what your experience is but they’ll discount it as one. You can say it’s others that have experienced the same thing and they’ll discount it as over represented.

78. There’s no acceptable way to be really angry with them, and express that, as a woman

79. They feel comfortable making comments about women’s physical appearance, touching us without our consent and bank on us not rocking the boat.

80. They refuse to believe in the wage gap

81. We could have child care as being mandated but because women are primary childcare givers, we don’t have this.

82. Medicine was only tested on both genders recently because it was too difficult to do apparently

83. Our medical issues aren’t taken seriously

84. Mass shooters are almost exclusively men

85. Because they moan about suicide rates and forget to mention all the women and kids and sometimes strangers that suicidal men take with them

86. They believe they’re entitled to sex - through payment guilt or force

87. They rarely care about what girls think unless they have a daughter

88. Cultures abort girl babies and before they just exposed them to the elements. As a result there’s India and China and the Middle East Hong Kong, South Korea, Taiwan Vietnam etc there are more men than women

89. They don’t stop female genital mutilation. And they could if they wanted to.

90. More than 100 million women are missing - the shortfall of the number of women in the world we would expect in the absence of sex discrimination

91. They desire us to be dependent on them. Independence terrifies them.

92. They let women leave the workforce during the pandemic.

93. They see male history, male writing, male law as standard and they aren’t. They’d freak out if the USA had 9 woman Supreme Court justices

94. They are more sexist than even racist

95. Male over female Domination is the first and most primal form of oppression

96. Prostitution is the first form of trafficking not the worlds oldest profession

97. They can compartmentalize the pain of others - especially if it doesn’t impact them or their family (their own private kingdom)

98. Every man assumes he’s the king and grows up taught that they deserve to own things, people and property

99. They see women as girls all as potential sexual objects. Especially if they’re mad.

100. They treat sex workers as a different class

101. Women don’t keep men as sex slaves

102. They’ve made the law such that women cannot logistically perform murder in self defence

103. They say porn is free speech and that it’s not real when it’s convenient

104. Despite all of this: all of the proof and every experience logged and litigated… that they don’t believe that women still are being oppressed under male supremacy.

105. Because someone has said it’s okay for drag queens to use “bitch serving cunt” as an expression of femininity- and claim it’s not misogynistic

106. Because of the so-called “husband stitch”

#misandry #misogyny #feminism #feminist

[woncheolisms]

services. (fushiguro toji x reader)

summary: With how hectic your life is, you have no room for relationships. But you still have needs, and so you decide to pay to have those needs met.

word count: 4372

warnings: fem!reader, escort!toji, porn with minimal plot, smut, unprotected sex, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, daddy kink, choking, biting, this is so self indulgent pls dont judge me.

A million guesses in the world and you never would have predicted that you would be spending your Saturday night like this.

The only sound in your living room was the tick, tick, tick of the wall clock, as well as your occasional fidgeting. Your jeans rustled from where your leg was bouncing, an outlet for your nervous energy. You played with the sleeves of your sweater, rocking back and forth just slightly. You couldn’t decide what you wanted to blame this jittery feeling on, your anxiety or the cold. You wanted to go with the latter but you knew that what you were doing right now meant it had to be the former.

Who else would be waiting for a fucking escort to come to their house?

You looked at the clock again and rolled your eyes at your own antics. It was still ten more minutes before he was supposed to get here. Why were you already so clammy and shaky? This was pathetic. Well, getting an escort was pretty pathetic in itself, but this had to be a new low.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected yourself to be in this position. When a coworker had been venting about how your grueling profession and long working hours left no room for having a personal life, you had enthusiastically agreed. It was something you had been struggling with for years. It was the reason your last boyfriend had broken up with you, saying your job was way too time consuming and he felt ignored. He hadn’t been wrong. You were working more hours than anyone else you knew. And while you loved your job and wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world, you knew it meant sacrificing relationships. Sacrificing love and intimacy and even the simple act of a physical touch.

At this point you were so touch starved it hurt.

Your coworker had then recommended this escort service, saying that it had literally saved her life. An over exaggeration on her part, you were sure, but when you had looked at their website and seen how systematic and professional everything was, you really were taken by surprise. The website was clean and organized, and it took everything into consideration. Hell, they even had you fill out a consent form that was almost six pages long, and it had every kink and sexual option known to mankind. The website claimed that the service had a sophisticated algorithm to make sure it matched every client with an escort best suited for their sexual needs, and it encouraged you to be completely honest when filling the form.

Your face had burned as you read through the form, but you thought long and hard about every option you ticked yes or no on. You were lost, truly, because you had a lot of fantasies in your head but many were ones you had never tried before, even with previous partners. It made you hesitate, and you wondered if these were things you wanted to try for the first time with a complete stranger.

“Oh, trust me, you do.” Mei Mei, your coworker, had responded when you talked to her about your woes. She swung her leg and she took a swig of her coffee, leaning back and giving you a teasing smirk. “When I say these men know what they are doing, they know what they are doing. I would argue this is the best option if you wanna be adventurous in the sheets. Because no matter how you respond, the guy will know how to handle it.”

So after many days of ruminating and carefully curating your form, choosing yes on every option you wanted to try, you had taken a deep breath and submitted it. You felt instant regret as soon as you clicked send, wondering what the fuck you were doing. You were a successful career woman, and here you were, hiring a man to come fuck you in sinful ways. God, what had you come to? If your ex could see you now….

Over the next few days, you went through the payment process and finalizing a time slot for yourself. You talked on the phone to a very nice sounding middle aged lady who had the perfect customer service voice, who told you all the details you needed to know, how many hours your were getting, sending you a number where you could contact the agency afterwards, and a whole bunch of other stuff, finally ending it by letting you know the name of the man they had matched you up with.

Fushiguro Toji.

You gulped as you wrote the name down on the paper you were noting everything else on, tuning out her next words for a bit as you stared down at it. So this was the man you were going to have sex with. Was this okay? Or had you completely lost your mind and your self respect officially?

When you finally hung up, you mulled over the option of just canceling. But the thought only annoyed you. Come on, Y/N, what’s the big deal? The lady on the phone said they were a large, country wide agency who had thousands of clients. So they’re probably doing something right. And who cares? You’re a hardworking woman, and you still have needs. You’re just fulfilling a need you have. That’s it.

Pull yourself together.

And so here you were, on a cold Saturday evening, waiting for this Fushiguro Toji to show up at your door. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the doorbell rang, just two minutes before the agreed time. You stood up quickly, swaying a bit because of how shaky your legs felt, before taking a deep breath and walking to the door. You put your eye up to the peephole, cursing when you saw only chest and shoulders, unable to get a glimpse of his face. You were so panicked that you didn’t even register that this meant he was extremely tall. You only clocked in that fact when you finally opened the door.

It was the first thing you noticed. Just how massive he was. Even though his loose sweatshirt hid most of him, there was no questioning how broad his shoulders were, or how he stood so tall that you nearly dwarfed in comparison. You felt your heart skip, swooning. 10/10 for the escort agency on the size kink option. This man was huge.

He had jet black hair, spiky but tamed, and it looked soft as hell. He looked down at you with a little smirk, and your eye caught the scar on the corner of his mouth. It somehow added to how sexy he was, and you swallowed hard. Yup, this guy was a walking wet dream.

You wanted to slam the door in his face.

He said your name questioningly, and you nodded to confirm your identity. Out of instinct, you said his name back, making him nod and his lip curl up just a bit more. You nearly shivered when his eyes quickly mapped over your figure. For a brief second, you wished you had dressed up a bit more than just your jeans and a sweater, but you doubted you could still look half as good as he did.

“C-come in.” You choked out, stepping aside to let him in. He lumbered inside, movements almost slow and lazy, but still smooth. Your breath hitched when his cologne flooded your senses. Fuck. He also smelled great.

Your hesitation only increased, but you shook your head. He’s probably been with a ton of women. His whole job is to look good and be good in bed. Of course he was attractive. The agency had promised that all their workers were physically good looking. You just hadn’t guessed they would be sex on legs.

By the time you closed the door, locked it and trudged into the living room, Toji was standing in the center of it, looking around with slow movements of his eyes. His hands were buried in the pockets of his jeans, and he was biting the inside of his cheek. He turned to look at you once you were in view again, and you watched him give you another once over. You tugged on your sleeves again, fueling your nervous habit. You heard him snort.

“My boss was right. You’ve never done this before.”

You blinked, not expecting him to say that, or have such a rough tone. It almost offended you, like he thought you were some loser. When he saw your scowl, he immediately raised his hands with a chuckle.

“Don’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart. It’s kinda cute. Just took me off guard, considering the shit you ticked off on your form.”

Now that made you flush and fidget. The knowledge that this stranger knew everything you wanted in the bedroom was a little unnerving, and pairing that with how heated his gaze suddenly got, and you felt your core stir.

“Would you like some tea?” You blurted out, at a loss for what else to say. He raised his eyebrow in response, making you cringe.

“Or coffee.” You added weekly. “Or we could uh…. just start. Um, go to the bedroom? I don’t-” Your face was so hot, you wanted to cry. Finally, you sighed and gave up, feeling your shoulders slump. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

This made Toji let out a hearty cackle, walking to your couch and dropping heavily on it. He patted the spot next to him, which you promptly took, unable to meet his eyes any longer. You convinced yourself that you couldn’t have done this worse, so there was no way to go but up since you had already hit rock bottom.

“Why’d ya get an escort service?” Toji asked, snapping you from your thoughts. You looked at him and saw genuine curiosity in his eyes, under the bored veneer that stretched over his face. You shrugged.

“I work too much. I wanted stress relief. My coworker said your agency was good. Now I’m kinda regretting it.” You explained concisely.

The tiniest of smirks took residence on Toji’s face at your last words, his body turned towards you. He hooked his arm over the back of the couch, resting his head on his balled up fist as he stared at you. “You won’t regret it by the time I’m done with you, sweetheart.”

Your breath caught at his words, body stiffening. To Toji’s trained eye, your movement was obvious, and it made him chuckle.

“You like that? Well, I can’t be surprised. You’re big on dirty talk, aren’t ya?”

He moved closer as he talked, one hand reaching out until his finger was tracing down your cheekbone, over your jaw, up until he reached your lips. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and your mouth opened on instinct.

“Wonder what kind of talk ya like more? Praise? You wanna be called a good girl? Or maybe the other kind? Maybe you’re a desperate little slut?”

His voice was rough, the air was charged, and despite the cold, heat flooded your veins. You felt like you could barely breathe, afraid to make any motion that could push Toji away. You felt your core pulse when he leaned forward.

“You familiar with the color system for safewords?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly. He hummed.

“Good.”

And then his lips were meeting yours.

It was slow, lazy, like all of his movements. His lips dragged over yours in an almost sensual way. His hand cupped the back of your head and tilted it to his liking, deepening the kiss more. His tongue teased your lips until you parted them, darting inside to slide it over yours. Your eyes rolled shut, shivers running over your spine, hands reaching up instinctively to curl into the material of his sweatshirt. He facilitated every move your mouth made, as if egging you to keep going, and you responded in kind, arching closer to him, pressing harder on his lips, even licking into his mouth a bit, albeit shyly. You felt his mouth curl as he pulled away, a wet squelch as your lips separated. You whined in protest, not even recognizing your voice, and he chuckled.

“We’ve got all night, sweets. Take it easy.”

His hands maneuvered you until he had you in his lap, and it was your first taste of Toji’s strength. You nearly keened at how easy it was for him to pull you around, and you once again felt your insides clench. Being on top of him made you feel intimately all the hard planes of his torso, and you finally let your hands wander. Toji didn’t stop you, watching your fingers disappear under his sweatshirt and meet his bare skin. You sucked in a sharp breath, tilting your head up to meet his lips again as your hands began their exploration.

Toji hummed, letting you guide the kiss this time, and you realized that he had played his cards very carefully to make sure you would come out of your shell. The thought turned you on even more, and you were absolutely sure that you had completely soaked through your lacy underwear by now. You pawed on his shirt, tugging it a bit.

“Take this off, please.”

Toji bit at your bottom lip. “Please what?”

You felt yourself flush hot, picking up on his implication. Another thing you had mentioned on your form. Your body stiffened but Toji squeezed at your sides, hands slipping under your sweater to rub your skin.

“Say it, baby. And I’ll do what you want.”

His lips were wandering, past your mouth, over your jaw and down your neck until his teeth were nibbling on the skin under your ear. Your eyes rolled up, subconsciously grinding down on his lap.

“Please,” you gasp when he sucked hard, likely leaving a hickey. “Please, daddy.”

Toji groaned, the first noise he had made all night, and it shot straight to your pussy. He reached behind him to tug his sweatshirt off, exposing him in all his muscled glory. Your mouth watered at the sight, hands running over him freely. You couldn’t believe you had this man under you, letting you grope and feel him up like this, looking up at you with eyes so predatory it nearly set off alarms in your head. Your touch was getting more and more firm as you continued touching him, his hands pushing down on your hips to encourage the way you were grinding on him. You felt his erection rub right between your legs, where you wanted him most, and you bit your lip in response. He felt big. Definitely the biggest you had ever had. You didn’t even have to look at it to know it would be a tight fit, and the thought of it made excitement zip through you. Your initial nervousness was dissipating, and all your repressed urges were now floating freely in your head.

You needed him to ruin you.

The thought made your movements more frantic, tugging and pulling at Toji, moaning into his lips when his hands wandered under your sweater and groped harshly at your breasts. God, when was the last time a man had touched you like this? You were so wet it made your whole body arch, pulsing with need.

“Daddy. Want- want you.” You whimpered in his ear, feeling his intake of breath at your words. Toji tugged your sweater off, pushing you back so he could take you in. You knew you already looked like a mess, and the thought made your face heat up. Toji smirked at you, stretching the little scar on the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, you leaned forward, licking at the healed over skin. His grip on your hips got impossibly tighter, and you knew it would leave bruises. He stood up, making you quickly wrap your legs around his waist, before walking towards your bedroom, which you pointed out. His lips never left your neck, nipping at any part he could reach, licking over you. You wondered if Toji had a thing for biting.

He was indulging everything you wanted, but a part of you wanted to indulge him too.

He tugged off your jeans and panties as soon as he had you lying on the bed, leaving you in only your bra. Your shyness seemed to have melted away at this point, your brain so foggy with need that you couldn’t think of anything except having him on top of you. Toji was quick to discard his own jeans, leaving him in his boxers, which were straining against the daunting bulge of his cock. You licked your lips at the sight, and the action didn’t go unnoticed by the man, who gave you a grin.

“You want my dick?”

You nodded eagerly, spreading your legs on instinct when he draped himself over you, slotting himself in the space you created. He hummed and licked his lips, eyes wandering over your figure. You felt yourself clench again at the heat behind his eyes.

“Let me get a taste of you first, sweetheart. Then you can have me.”

And then he lowered himself until his face was level with your bare pussy, breath fanning over it in a way that made your eyes flutter. You shouldn’t be shocked at how brazen he was, since this was his job, but it still surprised you. Your thoughts quickly melted away though, when he licked a fat stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, parting your lips until he could lick at you unencumbered, swiping his tongue over your heat over and over.

You gasped and arched into him, feeling shivers run down your spread legs. Fuck, he was good. Of course he was good. His movements were purposeful, like he had done this a million times before (which he probably had). His tongue seemed to know every little nook and cranny that needed attention, gliding over your cunt until he circled your hole, sinking into the opening. You cried out when the tip hit your walls just right, enough stimulation to feel good but not nearly enough to satisfy. His lips and tongue left you breathless and wanting more. His massive hands held your thighs apart, teeth nibbling at your clit slightly until you were whining under him.

“Fuck. Toji.” Your voice already sounded so wrecked.

When his finger tip prodded at your entrance, you barely had time to process before he was sinking in, knuckle-deep. You cried out at the intrusion, eyes rolling when he curled it and seemed to immediately find your spot. You felt his lips twist up into a smirk when you cursed, knowing he had you.

His movements were merciless, one finger becoming two and pumping in and out of you so fast you were sure he would rip you apart. No matter how hard you clenched, his fingers were undeterred, as if he was adamant on ruining your cunt. You could hear the squelching of your juices, the sound filthy and so sexy it put you right on the edge. Toji seemed to notice. His dark eyes burned into yours, mouth lifting from your clit to let his fingers do all the work while he watched your writhe under his touch.

“You gonna cum, babygirl? Gonna soak my fucking hand? C’mon, baby. Wanna feel this pussy drench me. C’mon. Cum.”

His voice was so rough, adding to the sensations until you felt dizzy, muscles snapping stiff as you came all over his fingers. The noises grew even wetter, your juices flowing past his knuckles and down to his wrist. He hummed his approval, the sound set deep in his chest, eyes zoned in on your fluttering lips. When he pulled out, you let out a long, deep sigh. Your legs were trembling as Toji made his way up to you, licking up your neck before nipping at your earlobe.

“You got such a perfect cunt, baby.” He moaned into your ear, hips grinding down and pressing his clothed cock against you. “Perfect little pussy, fuck. You tellin’ me you haven’t been feedin’ her with cock on a daily basis? Because that’s what she deserves. To be stuffed full with a big dick every night. Soppy little filthy pussy like that needs loving daily.”

You keened at Toji’s words, your breath catching at how lewd he was being. He hooked a thumb into his boxers and tugged them down until his heavy cock sprang free and hit his stomach, tip flushed an angry maroon shade and leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight, not even caring about how big he was or how wide he would stretch you. You whined and wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

“Need you, Daddy.” You breathed out.

“You have me, little girl.” He cooed, almost taunting. His lips were twisted into a wide grin, looking down at you with unbridled lust. You noticed how red the tips of his ears were, flushed down his neck as well. His hair was pushed back haphazardly out of his eyes, and his body was covered by a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes were blown.

When Toji finally sank his cock into you, in one slow stroke, he groaned and cursed loudly, sinking down to his elbows on either side of your head. He let out a long breath, cursing again before a large, rough hand came up and wrapped around your neck, squeezing the sides just a bit. You gasped and arched into him, eyelids fluttering. The light haziness in your head was now intensifying as Toji bullied his cock slowly but surely into your cunt, no matter how much it tried to resist the intrusion.

“Fuck.” His voice broke a little. And somehow, that was better than the orgasm he had just pulled out of you. Knowing you had that kind of effect on this man who had never met you before, that you were reducing him to this just by your body alone, made you feel powerful. You clenched around him on purpose, and his grip on your neck tightened, making you freeze. He looked down at you, his grin almost manic.

“You playin’ games with me, sweetheart? Nasty little slut. I never would’ve thought.”

He pulled out then, until only the tip of his cock was inside you, before surging forward, hips slamming hard into you. You screamed and arched, and Toji didn’t give you a second more, thrusting into you in earnest.

“You forgot I was the boss here, little girl. Me. Say it.”

You could barely choke the words out, having the wind knocked out of you with every brush of his cock on your g-spot.

“Y-you’re-” You screamed at a particularly brutal thrust, legs kicking and twitching. Toji’s grip on your neck tightened, and you could no longer breathe. Your eyes crossed at the feeling.

“Look at you. Can’t even say a word. Such a whore for daddy.”

When he eased his hold, you took in big gulps of air, only a few moments before he tightened his grip again. His movements didn’t slow down for one second, driving his cock into you at a maddening pace.

“I’m gonna-” You didn’t finish. You couldn’t. Because in that moment, your orgasm crashed into you like a freight train, so intense you could barely breathe, even despite Toji loosening the hold he had on your neck. Your vision blackened, stars bursting over it as you writhed and twitched under him. He didn’t stop fucking into you, didn’t even pause. He groaned when you came around his cock, and he kept going.

You realized that this was just the beginning of a very long night.

………………………………..

It was around 4 in the morning when you tapped out. Or rather, Toji finally let you tap out.

You had come so many times you couldn’t count. You had positively lost all feeling in your legs, and every muscle in your body was sore and buzzing. Toji had pulled and twisted you into every position known to man, spanked and slapped you around, choked you, tugged on your hair until your scalp tingled, and had stuffed his cock, fingers and tongue into your abused pussy so many times you felt like you were dying. It was the most you had ever felt, every sensation amplified, crying until tears soaked your cheeks, cumming until you just couldn’t anymore. He quite literally fucked the soul out of you, plain and simple.

Now you were lying on your side on the bed, watching with half lidded, barely open eyes as Toji tugged his clothes back onto his glorious, god-like frame. He had only a few marks. Your teeth marks on his neck and shoulders, and some scratches down his back. Compared to you, bitten and bruised all over, he looked unaffected.

He turned to look at you, smirking when he saw that you were already watching.

“You sure you’re done? Ya have me for two more hours at least.”

You nodded and let out an unflattering snort. “If I had to go one more round you might have to take me to the hospital.”

He let out a laugh at that, walking closer to you. He fished in the pocket of his sweatpants, pulling out a small, rectangular card. You could barely make out his name and number.

“Don’t call the service next time. Call me directly.”

You raised a teasing eyebrow. “You do personal services?”

He shrugged in return, sending you a sleazy wink. “Only for really sweet cunts like yours.”

You groaned and buried your face in the mattress, hearing him laugh loudly before standing up.

“I’ll see myself out.”

You didn’t move until you heard the front door slam, feeling your lips tug up in a smile. You would have to thank Mei Mei profusely for her recommendation. And now you understood that she didn’t exaggerate the effectiveness of this escort service.

This was definitely not the last time you would be seeing Fushiguro Toji.

[moonlightsapphic]

— sapphic allyship masterpost —

✨ Sapphics! 🗣️

Contemporary radfem (TERF/TIRF) rhetoric may permeate your 🫵 algorithm! Stop 🛑 and think 🤔 when you see 👀 content such as:

⭐️ Lesbianism is the most politically correct sexuality to combat patriarchy due to its exclusion of men. Therefore, other queer women should not “roll back their queerness” by dating men during the current climate. Who you date should not be made political, and to demand this from an individual for their participation in feminism is authoritarian conversion rhetoric. Sexual orientation (and who you love) is not a choice; it is a morally neutral natural human identity. A queer woman is not less or more queer due to her current partner, and a straight or bi woman in a relationship with a man is not automatically a lesser feminist. “Political lesbianism” during second-wave feminism ultimately invalidated lesbianism as an authentic romantic and sexual orientation, and caused devastating sapphic culture erasure.

⭐️ Lesbians and trans women are minoritised even within the LGBTQ+ community and can therefore never cause tangible harm to bisexual women and trans men respectively. This is because lesbians and trans women do not hold any power over bisexual women and trans men under cisheterosexism. This generalisation does not account for intersectional systems of oppression across race, nationality, class, disability, etc. Privilege (or lack thereof) is not quantitative and depends on context. Additionally, lateral phobias across different minoritised groups can cause harm. A lesbian can be biphobic, or participate in monosexism (a historically enduring system that causes alarmingly high levels of documented life-threatening harm to bisexuals), despite not systematically oppressing bisexuals under cisheterosexism. A trans woman can be transandrophobic/transmisandrist towards a trans man, despite not holding systematic power over trans men. Obviously, bisexuals can exhibit lesbophobia and transmascs can exhibit transmisogyny as well.

⭐️ Queer women who switch away from the lesbian label, and/or choose to date men rather than being loyal to WLW encourage lesbophobia by implying to men that lesbians can be corrected by “tradwife” culture. When formerly lesbian-identified women say they feel “healed” by discovery of their fluid sexuality or by a specific partner who happens to be a man, it actively harms lesbian visibility, validity, and safety. Victim-blaming a bi+ woman for the behaviour of bigots is known as bimisogyny. It buys into the radfem (and patriarchal) belief that men are innately subhuman monsters that only exercise restraint when when women demonstrate puritanical abstinence, rather than acknowledging men are fellow flawed humans taught to be violent under patriarchy. A woman who consensually engages in sexual and romantic relations with men is not responsible for sexual assault culture from men. That would be slut-shaming. Queer folks of any gender/sexuality are allowed to proudly find comfort in their identities and partners, as this is the goal of LGBTQ+ movement.

⭐️ Real lesbians (and who lesbians are really attracted to) are appropriately feminine, must identify as women, use she/her pronouns, and never want to be known as “boyfriends” or “husbands”; otherwise you’re just bisexual. Non-men who present masculine, don’t identify as women, or are attracted to non-feminine non-men genders “invade” lesbian spaces. This is lebophobia, butchphobia, and transandrophia. Butches, mascs, gender non-conforming women, genderqueer folks, and transmascs (including some trans men) identifying as lesbians are not only perfectly valid but also a well-documented historically important part of lesbian community.

⭐️ It is by default unfeminist for a woman to cater to the male gaze and male pleasure, because it will thwart feminism. Even fem(me) lesbians who pass as straight center the “male gaze”. This is once again misogynistic slut-shaming and victim-blaming, and leads to villification of sex work. The patriarchy depends on maintaining authority over women’s sexuality; attempting to oppose that using further suppression is just compliance to and repackaging of patriarchal purity culture. The feminist goal is women’s sexual liberation. Femininity and feminine sexuality are a complex performance done for the self, for other women (the female gaze), and also to contrast/complement/seek admiration of masculine partner (who may also be a non-man). It can be conforming or non-conforming to conventionally patriarchal standards. All of these effects are highly subjective and context-dependent. To imply fem(me) lesbians center men due to their femininity is lesbophobic and ignorant of lesbian culture. A more coherent feminist goal would be to advocate for more women to have agency over their own sexuality under the patriarchy, as actual sex workers are often the most underprivileged women.

⭐️ Formerly lesbian-identified trans men and bi women purposefully chose new identities that conform to and offer more privilege under the patriarchy. Because of their greed and/or brainwashing, exclusive lesbian community is disappearing. Bi women and trans men are hardly “privileged” in the cisheteropatriarchy, and are subject to similar phobias as lesbians since all oppression is linked. An individual’s coming out into their authentic identity is cause for celebration. Queer identity is often in flux; it is normal and healthy to reevaluate identity through multiple LGBTQ+ letters within a lifetime. No one owes their gender and sexual identity to feminism, nor do they have a choice in these identities; to dismiss an individual’s intelligence and demand otherwise is authoritarian bimisogynistic and transandrophobic conversion rhetoric. They will always be part of our community, even if they no longer identify with a certain subcategory. Lesbian community is smaller now because lesbianism by definition used to include more mspecs and genderqueers. Resources such as the “Lesbian Masterdoc” (whose very author now identifies as bi) are useful to some, but may cause others to not identify as lesbian if they face gatekeeping. Lesbian community can be grown by avoiding exclusion of those who are “excessively” mspec, fem, masc, or being/dating trans folks.

⭐️ Cis women are biologically fragile and should be separated from everyone else in sports for their own safety and to avoid being dominated by trans women. Trans folks should have their own category. Scientifically, gender is one of the least logical ways to universally divide physical sport categories to maintain “fairness”, but the practice has held strong due to patriarchal stereotypes based on binary beliefs of biological sex (ignoring and invalidating intersex folks completely). Each sport requires a unique set of ideal physical characteristics. Cis women are statistically at least equally as capable as cis men in many sports. Currently, transfems who are allowed to play professionally in women’s sections have to pass strict physical exams that even cis women are not subjected to. Trans women statistically cannot dominate women’s sports. This line of exaggerated transphobia is dangerous as it aims to gatekeep normal human experiences from trans folks, especially trans kids.

⭐️ Gender-neutral bathrooms, and trans people in women’s bathrooms, are dangerous for cis women as this may invite predatory men. Gender-neutral bathrooms are not uncommon in global cultures, and public bathroom hypotheticals are a historical vehicle for bigotry, such as when bathrooms were segregated by race in the US. It is transphobic to misplace blame and police trans peoples’ existence for potential bigoted cis men.

⭐️ Trans sapphics are men in disguise trying to invade lesbian spaces. Trans lesbians encourage the idea that lesbians are also attracted to men. Real lesbians have a genital preference for vulvas, but trans sapphics decieve cis lesbians into dating them anyway. These are transmisogynistic and lesbophobic stereotypes. Trans women are women and are not responsible for the existence of any bigoted men. Transfems with penises are not interested in dating anyone who is not attracted to them; many lesbians also do not have a genital preference, as the definition of lesbianism includes all non-men. While having a “type” is normal, publicly announcing and imposing it with no relevant context is body-shaming, and, in this case, transphobic, regardless of your personal internalised reasons. (You would not keep repeating how you wouldn’t date a fat person and no one else should either, because that would be fatphobic.) A good way to ensure lesbian community growth is to wholeheartedly accept transbians.

⭐️ Lesbians who have never been with men or someone with a penis are more queer and superior to those who have. “Gold-star gay” rhetoric is harmful to all queer and trans folks, and misogynistically implies a woman can be tainted by a penis. This is lesbophobic and transmisogynistic purity culture.

⭐️ Cis bi women with boyfriends are invading lesbian spaces. Bisexuals should create their own communities rather than invading gay and lesbian spaces. Bi women shouldn’t bring their boyfriends to Pride. This is generally a hypothetical issue, as the vast majority of in-person lesbian events and bars depend on attendance numbers to survive, and all sapphics, often along with friends and plus ones, are welcome regardless of their labels. The most important requirement is to be polite and present good allyship. Due to the nature of bisexuality, bisexuals have historically participated in gay and lesbian spaces as well as their own, and it is monosexist to demand their exclusion from a culture they were fully involved in building. Many bisexuals are in bi4bi M/F relationships, and their queer partners belong at Pride. Bisexuals should also bring their straight partners to Pride as LGBTQ+ community is small, and we need dedicated allies to show up for our movements.

⭐️ Bi women inevitably center men because their sexuality is inclusive of men. Bi women cannot love women the way lesbians do since only lesbians have fully decentered men, and it’s valid for lesbians to find it repulsive to date bi women who have been with men. WLW relationships are not by default more queer whenever the participants are exclusively lesbian, as bi women are not “tainted” by men; that would be a bimisogynistic purity culture stereotype again. Just like lesbians, bi women also have to unlearn compulsory heterosexuality, alongside additional monosexist androcentric stereotypes. Bi WLW demonstrate unique devotion by choosing sapphic love despite having other, more convenient options under patriarchy. WLW exist regardless of any alternate attractions, not in spite of them. There are many bi and straight women who happen to have men as partners but are well-involved in women’s and queer coalition, mutual aid and activism. On the other hand, there are lesbians whose activism consists of entirely hypothetical online identity discourse centering the exclusion of men, rather than focusing on building sapphic community.

⭐️ Most bi men are secretly gay and will never be satisfied with a cis girlfriend, it’s valid for women to be repelled by a man who has dated or has attraction towards other men. This is an androcentric biphobic stereotype and another manifestation of patriarchal purity culture. Many bi men identify as gay to avoid poor treatment, so the opposite is actually true. Bi men are not “tainted” by their relations with men, nor are they less masculine simply due to their sexuality.

⭐️ Bisexuality is a stepping stone to being gay and non-binary is a stepping stone to being a binary trans individual. This is based in monosexism, and the opposite is often true—gay men and lesbians often come out as fluid, and trans men and women often come out as non-binary. The creator of the lesbian masterdoc herself now identifies as bisexual.

⭐️ Validity discourse is a redundant non-issue distracting from real LGBTQ+ rights crises. Affirming the queerness and belonging of perceived liminal LGBTQ+ identities such as the bi+, aro/ace, and non-binary spectrums is crucial to preventing well-documented and life-threatening hardships faced by these groups. This is an important part of LGBTQ+ movement.

⭐️ Lesbians are always prioritising les4les because they are biphobic. Women are harder to date than men.* Like trans folks who feel most comfortable and understood in T4T relationships, lesbians are valid for seeking out les4les. Highly marginalised groups prioritising relationships with one another is not automatically a slight against outside identities. While monosexism is a real issue within the LGBTQ+ community, there are many women open to dating any sapphics. Sapphic dating under the patriarchy may be difficult, but it is a misogynystic stereotype to proclaim women are by default “higher maintenance” than men.

⭐️ Most lesbians are biphobic, most bi+ sapphics are lesbophobic, most trans men are transmisogynistic, most trans women are transandrophobic, and so on. Just like all humans, small fractions of LGBTQ+ subcommunities are very loudly phobic on the internet, amplified by algorithms that prefer rage bait. They often unknowingly adopting divisive radfem ideology with limited knowledge of queer history. Internet exclusionists are symptoms of wider issues, but are not representative of the real life vast majority of these groups, who are incredibly kind, empathetic, and inclusive.

⭐️ Everyone is a little bit bisexual.* This generalisation can especially lead to lesbophobic stereotypes. Monosexuals do exist, and this is disrespectful to the severe challenges lesbians withstand to realise their sexuality excludes men under the patriarchy’s compulsory heterosexuality. Self-identified queer folks should be wholeheartedly believed. Expressing suspicion towards an individuals’s identity is violating.

⭐️ Bisexuality is a TERF identity because it implies the existance of binary gender, and doesn’t include trans, genderqueer and non-binary folks. You should use “pansexual” or other terms instead. Bisexuality includes all genders, as the “bi” refers to “two or more genders”. The bi+ or multisexual spectrum contains many MOGAI identities, including pan. Every queer person should choose the term that they personally feel fits best.

⭐️ Kinks do not belong at Pride because no one consented to seeing public sex acts, it is offensive to folks on the asexual spectrum, and children will also be present. Public sex is not being performed at Pride. Some queer folks wear kink-representing outfits that are no more revealing than regular outdoor summer festival wear. Puritanical respectability politics based on exaggerated sexualization is a tool to erase LGBTQ+ folks from public life, by dividing and conquering one “bad” group at a time.

⭐️ Butchfemme culture historically belongs only to lesbians. Other identities should use masc/fem. Femme4femme and butch4butch are less queer than butchfemme. Butchfemme is not by default superior to other sapphic dynamics. Historical lesbian butchfemme identity and spaces were inclusive of all sapphics (including bisexuals) before lesbian separatism. Decades before that, butchfemme originated in ballroom culture that included BIPOC men-aligned queers. Bi+ sapphics can perform lesbian butchfemme, and all other LGBTQ+ identities can also use these terms.

⭐️ “Bi/pan/mspec lesbian” is a recently-invented identity for invading lesbian spaces and stoking lesbophobia by validating to men that all lesbians are attracted to them. “Bi lesbians” do not exist. They are lesbian TERFs because they believe lesbians don’t include trans women in their attraction. Or they are bisexuals with internalised biphobia as they don’t believe in bi fluidity. Lesbian identity is exclusive and can never be used by those who are mspec. “Bi sapphic” should be used instead. “Bi lesbian” is one of many valid LGBTQ+ labels that may appear complex, contradictory, or trivial. Statistically, a portion of lesbian-identifying women are mspec; bi lesbians make this part of their own identity explicit but do not intend to establish or imply that all lesbians are mspec. It is lesbophobic to impose attraction to men on lesbians, and it remains bimisogynystic to hold queer women’s identities responsible for the potential bigotry from men. Before the establishment of political lesbianism (by mainly cishet white women), “lesbian”, was a universal umbrella term for all sapphics rather than an exclusive label. It functioned similarly to the word “gay”, which can refer to an exclusively gay man, but can be used by anyone. “Bi lesbian” is a historically significant identity that emerged as resistance to the destructive effects of separatism on lesbian community. Prominent activists identified explicitly as bi lesbian to take pride in their bisexuality when purity culture-based bimisogynistic monosexism was rife. There are many valid reasons one may identify as a bi lesbian today, including limited non-actionable attraction to men, affirming trans/genderqueer identity (of the self and/or partner), or intimate connection to lesbian sexuality, gender, community, history, and lifestyle. While most contemporary bi+ sapphics choose to no longer identify as lesbians, they are not obligated to surrender lesbian terminology to radfem ideology; mspec sapphics have a right to lay claim to lesbian culture and identity, which they have equally partaken in for all history.

⭐️ Second-wave radical feminism isn’t bad because it actually did include BIPOC. Second-wave feminism was a complex, white-dominated movement that ultimately died due to its divisive and exclusionary ideology. There were many oft-erased marginalized BIPOC second-wave feminist voices, including queer Black women who favored intersectionality/inclusion and wrote excellent texts about it; for example, Bell Hooks critiqued the pervasive harmful rhetoric within the movement.

⭐️ LGBTQ+ identities are meant to be exclusive, with orderly definitions that are essential for meaningfully gaining relevant rights for each subcommunity. We reserve the right to correct or ignore people who misuse labels. Preserving lesbian spaces for monosexual lesbians only will achieve the eradication lesbophobia under patriarchy. LGBTQ+ identities have historically been based in complex shared experiences by multifacted individuals. For example, historical lesbian spaces were comprised of bi+ women, genderqueer and non binary folks, trans women, and trans men alongside exclusive cis lesbians. Imposing a queer person with labels they do not identify with is violating. Labels (and identities) are not definitive categories, and are meant for individual comfort and communication with no assigned “right” and “wrong” usage. The only “misuse” would be by a bigot specifically using a label to harm the subgroup, which is an arbitrary hypothetical. Safe spaces for minoritized groups with similar experiences, backgrounds and identities are important for recuperation and rehabilitation, but overall separatism is to the detriment to LGBTQ+ survival. The community at large is minoritised, and subgroups alone do not have a loud enough voice or visibility within the patriarchy. Historically, surviving queer spaces have welcomed all to even label-specific events.

Queerness is in opposition to patriarchy, which limits individuals in divisive assigned roles and separated classes. Queerness, by definition, is messy, complicated, and a celebration of unique individual agency. Movement cannot be sustainably achieved without intersectional inclusion and coalition—alongside those you do not relate to, and even those you may not agree with on all politics. This may require you to step out of your comfort zone, but that’s okay!

*not necessarily radfem rhetoric but still important!

Questions? Please read my sources! :)

🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

Disclaimer: I am a cis demisexual, bisexual femme WLW. Colonialism has erased historical sapphic cultures in many countries, including my own. As the US has established cultural dominance, my understanding is based off western texts and studies. LGBTQ+ experiences are diverse, but we also tend to reproduce patterns of existence and resistance globally, even without historical context. Unfortunately, this includes our mistakes, like succumbing to divisive rhetoric. Thanks for reading and kind suggestions & corrections are appreciated! :)

[spacedoutman]

To struggling Kissblr creatives:

I know it’s stressful to share your work and have it go unseen and even if it’s seen, you’ll always be below someone else on the ladder that is social media. Even with likes and views, you may still feel like your work is trash.

Let me tell you something. You’re not writing or drawing trash, you’re making art, no matter what form it’s in. In your work, you share a breath of you that nobody else can replicate, a piece of your humanity, your creative soul.

A part of you is in your work and that alone makes it special. Thank you for choosing to share that with us. Your work is a beautiful thing and no matter the likes or views, there’s somebody out there, guaranteed, who enjoys what you have to offer or will, even if you may not see them.

I understand how suffocating a lack of social media engagement can be and it is so easy to fall under the impression that it means your work is bad.

But another thing to remember is that if your work seems fall into the depths with no hearts or whatever, blame the algorithm first, not the quality of your writing.

Please hang in there my little obscure DaVincis. This is a love letter for all of you ❤️‍🩹 thank you for sharing your unique writing voice. One day, people in the far future will still enjoy your work.

Tag me in your shit and I’ll be your number 1 fan!

[arkofangels]

Flushed with Emotions

Pairing: Jean Loo Pissoir x Reader – Date Everything!

summary: After losing your job to AI, your life takes a bizarre turn when you receive the Dateviators—enchanted glasses that reveal the true, dateable forms of your household objects. One of them? Your toilet.

a/n: sorry for the corny rhyme idk what to write

Your day started the same as every other since you got fired. You'd shuffled into the bathroom, bleary-eyed and barely awake, trying not to think about your rent or the way your boss had said “the algorithm just does it better.”

Now you’re standing in front of your toilet. And it’s talking to you. In rhymes. With a French accent. And a chain that holds a mic named Ballcock.

You blame the sunglasses.

The Dateviators, gifted to you by a trench-coated weirdo outside the unemployment office, are perched on your nose. And ever since you put them on, your apartment hasn’t been the same. Your microwave flirts. Your vacuum growls. And now—this.

“Bonjour, mon cœur,” the toilet purrs, tilting its porcelain face toward you. His plunger-hat leans rakishly to the side, as if it’s seen some things. “You look like a clogged soul… in need of a flush.”

You stare. “Okay. Nope. No. We’re not doing this.”

Jean Loo doesn’t miss a beat.

“You flush your feelings, bury them deep, But mon amour, the pain still leaks. Sit down, relax, let’s unclog this mess— The bathroom’s a church, and you came here to confess.”

Your eye twitches. You point at the door. “Out. No rapping in the bathroom.”

“I am the bathroom,” he says, arms out like he’s Christ on ceramic. “And the rapper.”

You groan and walk out, only for Jean Loo to follow. Somehow his boots make a flush sound with every step, and the toilet-seat shoulder armor creaks dramatically when he moves.

“I didn’t invite you into the living room.”

He shrugs. “Everything in this home is mine to access. Or are you forgetting who handles your… delicate situations?”

You want to scream. You want to laugh. You want to throw the glasses out the window. Instead, you flop on the couch.

“…You smell a little like bleach.”

He leans on the doorframe, arms crossed. “Merci. I shower in Lysol. Most find it… invigorating.”

You bury your face in your hands. “Why me?”

He suddenly quiets. You peek through your fingers and see something rare—earnestness.

“You looked sad. Lonely. Your eyes were heavy like a tank with no flush,” he says softly. “And I—Jean Loo—do not let my cherie rot in solitude.”

You lift your head. “Did you just say I’m like a neglected tank?”

“…Romantically, oui.”

You sigh, but it’s a little less hopeless now. Maybe a tiny part of you—some small, unhinged recess of your unemployed brain—likes having someone (thing?) around. Even if he does come with freestyles and flexible hoses.

You lean back. “Fine. You can stay. But no freestyling during me time.”

Jean grins. “But all time with you is mon temps préféré.”

“…That better not mean what I think it means.”

He winks. “Would you prefer a bidet pun?”

You hurl a throw pillow at him. He catches it with flair—bowing like you’ve just thrown roses.

[starwarskawaii]

Annoyance and Empanadas

A Miguel O'Hara fic

Alright, here's that Miguel fic. Dedicated to Lan ( @chaithetics ) for always believing in and encouraging me. Proofread by my husband, @kitsunot . So if I made a mistake, blame him.

A/N: This is self-serving, reader is HEAVILY based on me. No word count because I am lazy.

Edit: possible part 2 if you guys like this one. So make sure to let me know!

CW: disabled reader, possible slightly ooc Miguel, mentions of Miguel's *gestures at his life*, no use of Y/N, second person voice, mentions of mobility aids, disability is not specified but is highly based on my experiences with fibromyalgia, female reader, mentions of brain fog, mentions of safe foods, reader is slightly implied to be autistic, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING

You were annoying. Not annoying like Peter B, who always had a quip and lacked boundaries. Not annoying like Miles, who questioned Miguel constantly. Not even annoying like Hobie, although you were a bit of an anarchist. The first thing you had ever said to Miguel was, "I support women's rights and women's wrongs. I do not, however, support men's rights OR men's wrongs, so I hope you've improved." No, you weren't annoying like any of them. You were annoying like Lyla. You were annoying because you knew him. You knew him entirely too well. Which was quite possibly the worst kind of annoying you could be.

You sauntered in on your purple forearm crutches, thinking of what you could say to piss Miguel off. As much as you'd like to pretend you were a quick thinker, the brain fog made it near impossible to come up with anything on the fly. So as you sauntered in, you thought of what you could do to make those veins pop on his neck and forehead. You liked those veins.

Miguel heard you coming. How could he not? Mobility aids are not stealthy. Not in the least. Miguel knew what was coming, and he braced himself for whatever quip you had up your sleeve. Your quips were worse than a Peter Parker's; you had studied him. You came from a universe Miguel stumbled on accidentally. A world where he and all the other Spiders were just characters in comics and movies. And you happened to be Miguel O'Hara's number one fan (and biggest hater, somehow simultaneously). You had made tons of posts analyzing him on some site, tumbling, maybe? He couldn't remember. He brought you on for a few reasons, but mainly to help the algorithms predict events in the Spider's lives.

"Ohhh, Miiiiiggy!" Came your voice, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What? I'm a bit busy, you know, " came his reply.

"Too busy for me, Migs?" You pouted and batted your lashes. You knew he couldn't resist that.

Miguel was surprised. No quips yet. That's a first.

"Too busy brooding to listen to your favorite right-hand woman?" There it was. There was the jibe at him. You loved doing that. You were probably worse than Lyla.

Lyla popped up and snickered "He was just brooding, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Migs, my love, would you care to tell me why the caf has no empanadas?"

"Aye, you came here to interrupt my ensuring the fate of the Arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse over an empanda?"

"They're your recipe, we all know they're the best in the multiverse" you reasoned with him.

"They're my mother's recipe, technically, and I'll make you some when I take you home." Miguel always took you home. You had a lot of issues with the stupid 2099 high-tech stuff, and it also required use of at least one hand, something you rarely had the luxury of, unless it was a no mobility aid or a wheelchair day. So Miguel made sure you were safe.

"Fine, fine. When are you taking me home, speaking of? Should I just wait here, or should I try to navigate the awful upside down maze you created while I wait for your self-imposed penance for the day to end?" Man you were annoying. Man you knew him well.

"I'll finish up soon. Wait here," his face softened as he looked over at you. You were making yourself comfortable on a chair, placing your aids to the side and getting into that position you liked to sit in. The one that seemed uncomfortable, but you swore was best for your hypermobile joints.

You reminded him a lot of Lyla. Lyla, who Xina had programmed to heckle him. Lyla, who he never had the heart to reprogram. You knew all his buttons. Just like Lyla. Just like Xina... You were also like Gwen. He had initially seen you as much more like Gwen. You had a baby face, so he had assumed you were younger. You had half-shaved hair, which you had actually gotten done because of some singer in your dimension, the year before Spiderverse came out. You had always loved Gwen Stacy, though. It wasn't hard to see why. You were smart, you liked nerds, you were incredibly confident, you were kind of punk, but also hilariously materialistic, not in a fancy clothes way but in a "I have to have this figure or I will cry" way. You were a lot like the Gwen of 120703. You loved that Gwen.

You were very different from all of them, though. He remembered stumbling upon your dimension by accident. A dimension where there were no heroes. A dimension where there were somehow still supervillains. A dimension where, even when faced with a lack of heroes, some people still had hope. You were one of them. He had initially infantalized you. Your mobility aids, your interests, the baby face, the fact that you clearly needed a caregiver, but stubbornly lived on your own all made him see you as younger than you were. You had had many arguments before he finally realized how capable you are. That you're tougher than most Spiders are, save for Sun Spider, who has EDS (you LOVED Sun Spider). That you deal with 24/7 full body pain, work a full-time job, and somehow manage to take care of yourself.

You had shown him so much. Like punk versions of him that you thought were hot. He hated them. He hated that you found that attractive. It made him question for a moment if his appearance was alright. Of course, you would like piercings and tattoos. You had multiple of each. He never really thought much of it before. You had shown him art of him pregnant. You both hated that one. He had learned so much about you. In a way, he had become the caregiver you needed. He made sure you ate, he popped into your dimension to help with your laundry, he helped you on low mobility days, he cooked for you, he helped you set up appointments and refill meds when your brain just wouldn't cooperate. He admired you. He thought you were incredibly strong. He made you empanadas because they're a safe food for you. He secretly loved the way you loved his cooking.

You cared for him. Really, truly, deeply cared. You had listened to his pain and felt it like it was your own. You were so empathetic. He realized that your disabilities and baby face and your being a few years younger didn't matter at all. You were more mature than he was. You knew pain, you lived with pain, you had lost so much and had dealt with it a long time ago. You helped him pick apart his mind, healing what had been broken by grief. He had spent so many nights sitting on the floor of your apartment, next to your couch, pouring his heart out to you. The girl who had fan art of him up on her walls. He was pretty sure he loved you, but too worried he was confusing gratefulness for that painful emotion he hadn't felt in so long that he couldn't bring himself to say anything. You were in love. How could you not be? He let you see him so vulnerable. He was also 6'9, built like a tank, perfect dark skin and hair, newly emotionally open, and had clearly come to genuinely respect you, in a way you struggled to find as a disabled woman. You were much less subtle about your feelings than he was. You flirted constantly. But he was as dense as his muscles.

"Alright, I'm done, cariño," Miguel said. "Time to go back to your dimension, and get you some food. Did you actually eat today?"

"Uhhhh, what answer do you want to that?" You said, only half joking, with a nervous laugh.

"You'll be the death of me, hermosa"

He was used to the quips. He was used to the forgetting to eat. He was used to it all, and he hoped it could stay that way. Miguel O'Hara loved how you annoyed him. And he hoped you would continue to, for at least as long as Lyla has.

[lokidips]

Van update... Vandate?

I write this to you, my lovely supporters, of whom I keep close to my heart, and even more specifically, those of whom have sent in asks or dmed me:

I promise you, as a very sensitive (specifically to rejection) person, your messages do not bother me, you are not a burden nor inconvenience. I am on here of my own volition, it is my choice to leave these gates open for you to walk through. That, I am aware, leaves you with expectation of a reply, and rightfully so. And I am here to apologise for my lack thereof, and to promise you, sincerely, that it is not personal. I am truly sorry that I don't get to all asks and dms, even if my abundance of free time certainly should allow for it!

But I am also here to confess that I am a very socially anxious person when it comes to interaction with strangers. It is, again, no fault of any of you lovely people, merely my own, uh... comorbidities, let's say (hello, fellow neurodivergent folk), that make it hard to make easy conversation. I have about two close friends in total, for reference (of whom I love <3).

In terms of the asks I receive, sometimes I simply cannot think of an answer I believe adequate! I understand the craving for more fuel for the hyperfixation fire! But, unfortunately for both myself and you, the ol' Van brain goes a bit blank...

In other news, my lack of posts (both on tumblr and ao3) can be blamed on said comorbidities once again! Blame the ADHD! But I am working on the next part of Conflict of the Mind and trying to motivate that plot bunny... come on, do something, poke, poke.

But! I am giving myself a deadline, 26th of April! An update to mark my... one year of not publishing to ao3... yay?

I also have other fics in the works, with our lil Loki. Where CotM has lane a little dormant, other bunnies have been popping up! Specifically, one featuring our lovely Jane Foster, an AU I'm quite fond of and eager to explore. Another actually features age regression as it appears in our world, with Loki as your average adult in a relationship with... how do we feel about polyamory? And just to reassure, I will always keep my tumblr and ao3 sfw and non-sexual, so never fear!

And in regard to art commissions, that decision has been put aside for now while I work on improving my skills and gaining the confidence to create what people request of me. I thank you all for your continued interest, it's a lovely contrast from Instagram's useless algorithm and makes me so happy!

Thank you for reading, let's make some stuff this year!

[weebsinstash]

Ok so tmi (on the tmi blog lol) but the first day of my Cycle I had a dream that I had just given birth and I was holding my baby and I was goddamn euphoric even though the logical part of me was like “???? I am 22 and broke i CANNOT have a baby rn” and I woke up crying and called my friends like I WANNA HAVE A BAAAAAABYYYYY I WANT A BAAAAAAABYYYYYYYY so basically. Imagine. Miguel catches you in a moment of weakness. And he NEVER. FUCKING. FORGETS IT.

Oh wow girlie those period hormones grabbed you by the uterus and absolutely REFUSED to let go

NO BUT FOR REAL don't look at me but I've been thinking of a concerning number of ideas where it's like, "Reader suddenly realizes they may want a baby and is actually putting serious thought into it and Miguel finds out (bet your ass Peter B tells him, i can see him as a "well intentioned" platonic guardian/mentor figure who sells you out to Miguel the second he thinks you're doing something risky or he thinks it's for your own good) and Miguel starts making all these plans and preparations behind your back to have a baby with you" and obviously I like the extra juicy option of "he found out you got extremely depressed and tied your tubes or something because you either see no point in you having a kid/think it's too late, OR, Miguel was the only person you were looking at as a potential father and you either decide it wouldn't work out or he does something to hurt you and you lose trust in him" so like, the double whammy combo of him being hit with the news you basically walled off your fertility that he's kinda fantasizing about AND you blame him for it

You see him chokeslam Miles on the train and having all these serious anger and stress issues and you're like "hmmmm don't like that" and basically make the tubal ligation appointment that week (but, you know, he'll either interfere before you can actually get it or even reverse it later on)

Like. Ugh I'm not sure if I should go super into detail bc I feel like I want to put this scene in the YouTwo fic or in a different idea i have thats more centered around motherhood, but, picture he catches you in his monitor room one day after you've lost your home dimension, you're having a little more than just a small identity crisis, and he catches you having Lyla show you the model for your life, or what the algorithm had predicted your life was supposed to be like before your universe just magically poofed away. You're just staring at these holograms with tears running down your face and he occasionally catches you starting to reach out like you want to touch what you see. He comes to stop you because he already knows all too well where this could lead, you can't become tempted to break canon and go somewhere else, but you beg him to let you watch just a little longer

"I was supposed to get MARRIED! I was supposed to have a BABY! I was supposed to have a family!! It's not fair!!"

And he's in total agreement with you because, who even fucking knows why your universe suddenly destabilized and vanished. He sees you as this person who has so much promise and potential who had their destiny and future literally snatched away from them and now you're lost and confused on what you're supposed to do, like really he totally understands why you feel so aimless. But watching these holograms is like torturing yourself, and he goes to stop you when you just keep crying because this is basically sending you into a critical mental health episode

"Someone was supposed to fall in love with me... we were supposed to have a baby... would I have been a good mom? Would I have had a boy or a girl? Cant you at least let me find out what my daughter's name would have been?"

And it's like NOOOO you can't hit him with the daughter card, don't you see what you've DONE!!! Gets him right in the heart. Now he's got this massive soft spot for you, bigger than it already was anyways, and he can tell over time you're just really starting to, grieve the future you were supposed to have, falling into a depression. Peter B is hanging around with Mayday like he usually does as both men can tell you're really staring at his baby today and he offers to teach you how to hold her. you're standing there misty eyed twirling one of her little curls around your finger as her dad starts volunteering information to you, "you know she's about XYZ months old now, they aren't really talking yet at this age but they're really curious about their surroundings and--"

Miguel watches as you start talking about children and suddenly get this really really tortured expression and just say "it's not meant to happen" and or some combination of "it's too late for me" and gives him his baby back a little too quickly in typical "I am clearly leaving the room to go cry" fashion. Meanwhile Peter B is like 38 wondering why you think you're out of time or it's not supposed to happen

Miguel's working one day and Peter is trying to shove his phone in his face, "you know I think this is one of the BEST photos of Mayday I've ever taken, she's looking so cute here, you just GOTTA see it" and Pete just won't let up and Miguel finally looks just to humor him because the man is being unusually annoying and, it's a photo of Mayday, duh, but being held by you, and you're clearly looking down at her with watering eyes and the smallest little smile that says "I'll die for you" and Peter is just all 😏 as Miguel is 'suddenly' interested in the photo. "That's a really good photo of MAYDAY, right? 😏 I figured you would like it, that photo of MAYDAY 😏" and Miguel is just grumbling and grouchy bc he sees what this guy is tryna do, but he's still like ".... send it to me later, I'm trying to work right now"

It's even worse if you're a member of his strike force because you're constantly around him, Peter B, and Jess. Miguel just, idly wondering where you are and deciding to walk around a little bit and eventually finds that you're having some sort of conversation with Peter B and Jess and he can tell you look really weepy as the other woman invites you to feel her baby kicking, like, you could not more obviously be developing baby fever, and you ARE around that age, and ESPECIALLY if you live in Nueva York because it's like, YEAH you're still a Spider and YEAH you help the Society with stuff but. Your home universe is gone, your canon is gone, you're kind of. Free as a bird really? But you're also scared because, if someone was destined to love you, does that mean it technically isn't meant to be to fall for anyone else? You can't exactly hook up with people at the Spider Society because of canon or them already having relationships, and you don't exactly have identifying documents if you wanted to try and adopt

I think it'd really reach a stressful breaking point if you and the strike force go to another universe to fight an anomaly and Miguel catches you staring out into the crowd of people you just saved and he sees what youre looking at instantly and his heart sinks. Another you, another normal you, never bitten by a Spider, is standing there with her husband and her little sputtering baby, and he has to all but drag you away as you cry "it's not fair, it's not fair, why does SHE get a normal life!!"

Sidebar for a moment, I think that's probably also one thing that would be so INFURIATING about the doppelganger stealing your life story because THEY have a home universe and YOU don't. They take your life, they take literally everything you have left, your friends, your sense of community, your literal purpose. I've already decided on YTs motivations but could you imagine you finding out YouTwo actually has a decent life and maybe even a husband and kid of their own and you're just furious because they're basically abandoning their duties back home not only as a Spider but as a parent/spouse to steal what YOU have? You can't kill them because it would break their canon and kill like countless people but Miguel and the others would def let you beat the shit out of your evil double and get some of your anger out. Like. Jesus could you imagine Miguel kicks you out thinking you're the fake and after you're gone, YouTwo breaks canon and that's what exposes them, or theyre exposed when they eventually take a trip back home and get caught. The Society's regret, the guilt, the anger, just marinate me with the drama

But anyways back to Being Sad and Babycrazy, you go missing one day and Miguel has to decide what to do when he finally tracks your bracelet and you're back in THAT dimension again. He has to physically track you down using your bracelet's signal because you refuse to answer his messages and you're, in the home of the other you while she takes a brief nap, in the nursery, holding her baby. Miguel quietly climbs through the window and you're in a rocking chair and you've got her hugged to your chest and your eyes are closed and you sense him and, obviously cry because you know you have to leave. Unlike with the holograms he doesn't give you any leeway on this, putting his foot down that this has to end here, this cant go on, this is already so dangerous. And, you're good for him and understand, leaving the baby back in its crib as you and Miguel warp away. You're heartbroken but ultimately understanding when he has to disable your watch's ability to visit that specific dimension again, and you're obviously extremely depressed for a while, having multiple Spiders coming to check in on you as word spreads around that you aren't doing well

I can just see Reader becoming kind of desperate because the only options for a baby you really have left is to either 1. get a serious relationship, which you're scared of because you have to trust that person and who can you even pick, you're nervous about breaking canon or something, or 2. Get some random person to impregnate you so you can run off with the baby

Miguel gets a call from Peter B that you went to a bar and you're EXTREMELY wasted as you try to pick someone, ANYONE up and like, you have admirers for sure but there's enough decent people around to keep the creeps in line, clearly you are in a vulnerable state of mind right now, and Miguel gets to tote your drunken ass back home as you drunkenly word vomit all your feelings to him because, unfortunately for you, he has your trust, and you need comfort right now, and you even ask him about what being a parent was like for him. You encouragingly tell him he shouldn't give up if he still wants kids, you trying to be genuinely nice and not trying to imply anything, blubbering about how he deserves to still be happy and he's still got time, and here's Miguel who's practically tracking your cycles at this point, TOTALLY not going to use anything you say to him while you're piss-drunk against you

Especially if you add ABO into the mix and you have a Miguel who's either Alpha/Omega and is already babycrazy af and he sees you literally fucking YEARNING for it, like. You've got a 6'9" Alpha basically looking at you, his poor lil Omega crush, with the big yandere goo goo eyes and how you need all this love and support and stability and how you're in need of a proper husband and of course he's all too willing to volunteer himself for the job. Even if he's too awkward to come right out to you and say it, he'll be thinking in his head and planning behind your back ways to take care of you, keep you away from any drugs/alcohol (no more smoking weed with metro boomin Spiderman, you've gotta detox your body to have a baby! Also, different concept but, Miguel basically keeping you in a bubble to control all your meals and recreational activities and all of that so he can make sure you're perfectly healthy for a baby)

Don't let this man catch you slipping up! Throw you to the Spider Society and you'll come back pregnant 😭 he sees you so depressed and wanting a baby and it's like well, if your life needs new meaning, he can help literally make one for you 😏 he's been feeling protective and nurturing of you anyways, so, it's an extra benefit for him to think of getting to have both you AND a little baby of your very own ❤️

[betterbemeta]

because I love to cook the youtube algorithm pushes me a lot of food porn videos which I guess are adjacent. But over time, something about them feels cruel to me. The influencers are living in an alternate universe. 'Surf n' turf fried rice?' 40 lbs of it for a tailgate?

I live in the USA, and the absolute cheapest online price for snow crab legs I could find was $10 a lb and I have no idea if the product's any good quality. As of November 2024, the wholesale prices before markup were over $8 a lb. I haven't seen them in my grocery store for under $14 a lb. Online, 10 lb cases of crab like he's carrying there go for almost always over $100. Sometimes over $200. There was a 2018-2019 population collapse due to a marine heatwave that knocked out over 10 billion crabs.

The stated price of a beef tenderloin varies wildly depending on where I look. I can find a USDA report that states that the retail cost of beef tenderloin in my area in 2024 was around $8-$11 per lb but I have NEVER seen it for under $15 a lb on sale in the store, at least recently. Grass-fed beef costs a lot more. Maybe I am not looking hard enough, and there ARE definitely ways to get meat cheaper, like buying a cow share. But like... do you get what I am saying? That meat fried rice guy is holding is potentially over $100 by itself. and why the hell do you need tenderloin to make fried rice, anyway? It's one of the more expensive cow parts, it's filet mignon.

I kind of find it fun to watch videos where a butcher cuts up wagyu beef because it's a luxury that I can't justify spending on myself. But after a certain point this stuff stops feeling like fantasy, and begins feeling cruel. Maybe this guy has special connections where he can get that much crab for below wholesale prices, or has special deals with farmers to get a $60 whole tenderloin when he wants. But its more likely he's just rich, or is projecting the image of being rich using investor or sponsorship money.

The USA has leadership right now that dismantled any agency that can control bird flu and is blaming egg prices on its enemies. Normal people will be watching their grocery bills further skyrocket due to isolationist tariffs, rent, utilities, and medical prices take more out of their food budgets than ever before. And it would not surprise me if the plan to make up the difference after the feds round up low-wage immigrant workers is to send them right back to work but like, even more literally enslaved.

And youtube wants me to see the altreality where some random guy brings the economic collapse of largely indigenous alaskan fishing communities, and cubed filet mignon, to a tailgate??? what 'let them eat cake' bs is this???

[mbep]

DAV Solavellan ending musings

This is too long to post on Twitter so it's going here, on the blog I haven't touched in years, because I have to scream into the void. I can't possibly compete with the hardcore Solavellans who have been following this saga for a long time (I only got into DA last year by playing DAI and the DLCs) so this isn't a comprehensive or deep analysis by any means, but I love them all the same.

I got into DA because the Twitter algorithm put Solavellans on my timeline and I am eternally grateful for that. I already knew all the story beats (and the big reveal that he's Fen'harel) before playing DAI and I enjoyed catching the moments where he's obviously hiding something. The scene in Crestwood and the parting in Trespasser still made me emotional, even knowing what was coming.

The final scene in DAV was short, but no less meaningful. I think that was mostly to avoid creating such a big gulf between romanced and non-romanced Inquisitors and I'm glad Bioware didn't create that inequality, on behalf of the non-Solasmancers.

The first thing I will say is that Gareth David-Lloyd does a phenomenal job with the acting. They've been great since DAI, and they're a big reason why Solas is such a charming, nuanced and compelling character. The whispered "vhenan", the strained "Mythal", the sobbing, how quiet "ar ghilas vir banal" is… They deserve at least an award (all of them in fact) for that.

The animation is amazing too: how Solas doubles over when Mythal finally acknowledges how she set him on this path and shares the blame, his wet eyes and facial expressions looking at the Inquisitor… The thing I love most is him not looking back when leaving, and her putting her hand on his shoulder as they enter the Fade. Very Orpheus and Eurydice, but he does what Orpheus could not: he does not look back. He trusts that she is there and if she is not and has a sudden change of heart and leaves him, he will not blame her. But she is there, and lays a guiding hand on his shoulder; "Ma ghilana, vhenan", as the Inquisitor tells him in Trespasser.

There are a lot of Trespasser parallels and a lot of people more knowledgeable that I have analysed them, but I love how much this scene is a response to that. So here's my two cents: "I walk the din'anshiral. There is only death on this journey." = "I am here, walking the dinan'shiral with you." Weirdly they spell "din'anshiral" differently in the subtitles LOL I personally think the Trespasser spelling is correct. This is the line that hits hardest, in my opinion. She says this the first time they see each other again, when they don't even know they are leaving together. She means that all this time, the years apart, she has walked with him. She has not stopped searching for him, trying to find a way to change his heart (as the epilogue of Trespasser says). All this time he thought he was alone, she was there with him: both have been feeling the pain of their separation, the burden that his duty to Mythal has put on each of them (him having to fix their mistakes and her trying to change his mind), the regret they both have that things might have gone differently.

"Var lath vir suledin." "I wish it could, vhenan." = "There is no fate but the love we share." The translation from elven is very sweet, but a very interesting choice. In elven she actually says "Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, vhenan." Two sentences that Solas says in DAI: "Banal nadas." / "Nothing is known for certain." Said by Solas to the nightmare demon in the Fade when it taunts him by saying "Your pride is responsible for everything that has gone wrong; you will die alone." The same quest reveals that Solas's greatest fear is dying alone. She reminds him of what he said then, that the nightmare demon is wrong: he is not alone, he can change that fate. "Ar lath ma, vhenan." Solas's confession of love to the Inquisitor. I don't think she ever actually tells him she loves him in DAI. Eight-ish years later, she says it back to him, proving that their love did indeed find a way to endure.

"I cannot bear to think of you alone." = "But you do not have to go alone." He is once again leaving to right a wrong. In Trespasser, he was leaving to do what he thought was best, what he wanted to do to fix his mistakes. Here, he is leaving to seek atonement, to soothe hurts not with violence, but repentance. And she once again offers to go with him. (I personally didn't choose this dialogue option in Trespasser because I don't think my Inquisitor agreed with what he wanted to do, but it's a very sweet line nonetheless) This time, with all that has changed, he is more open to letting her go with him, but he still cautions her: "Where I am going is terrible." I love the translation of her reply: "It won't be terrible if you're with me," because the order of the pronouns is interesting to me. Not sure if it's intentional, but I feel like I would have said "It won't be terrible if I'm with you." It's very subtle, but I think there is a difference: "if I'm with you" puts a lot of emphasis on the Inquisitor, i.e. "I make things better"; "if you're with me" means the same thing but it's humbler, less prideful, i.e. "I will be there for you to make things better".

The parallels in animation are also great. The way he turns when she speaks as he's leaving, the bow when he says "ir abelas, vhenan"… THE KISS. God, the way they hold hands like they do in Trespasser is insane.

The music in this scene is the best in the game, and it's a crime that it's not on the official soundtrack. Not just the atonement music, but the way it shifts into "Lost Elf Theme" from Trespasser once the Inquisitor steps forward gives this scene the emotional weight the music in DAV honestly doesn't have. The music is a big part of why I cried watching this.

Side notes:

-My Inquisitor looks nothing like she did in DAI LOL Hey, I was already hours into CC, it frustrated me that the presets were so different from DAI and I did not have the patience to tweak everything. Also I'm horrible at distinguishing faces. She still looks pretty so I guess she got a glow up during their time apart LOL Vivienne and Leliana took her to get a makeover in Val Royeaux.

-The DAV soundtrack honestly isn't bad. I enjoy quite a few tracks on it; "Where the Dead Must Go" and "Not the Chosen One" are among my favorites. The main theme isn't compelling though, and "The Dread Wolf" track would have made a better main theme (it's the best track on the album). The OST lends the atmosphere that music is supposed to, but it doesn't have the character on its own that the music in DAI does (thank you, Trevor Morris). I could be anywhere in the world doing anything and if I heard the DAI main theme I would lose my mind. "Lost Elf Theme" always makes me so emotional; it's a plea, a feeling of hopefulness and being resigned to one's fate at the same time.

[mariacallous]

Arvind Narayanan, a computer science professor at Princeton University, is best known for calling out the hype surrounding artificial intelligence in his Substack, AI Snake Oil, written with PhD candidate Sayash Kapoor. The two authors recently released a book based on their popular newsletter about AI’s shortcomings.

But don’t get it twisted—they aren’t against using new technology. “It's easy to misconstrue our message as saying that all of AI is harmful or dubious,” Narayanan says. He makes clear, during a conversation with WIRED, that his rebuke is not aimed at the software per say, but rather the culprits who continue to spread misleading claims about artificial intelligence.

In AI Snake Oil, those guilty of perpetuating the current hype cycle are divided into three core groups: the companies selling AI, researchers studying AI, and journalists covering AI.

Hype Super-Spreaders

Companies claiming to predict the future using algorithms are positioned as potentially the most fraudulent. “When predictive AI systems are deployed, the first people they harm are often minorities and those already in poverty,” Narayanan and Kapoor write in the book. For example, an algorithm previously used in the Netherlands by a local government to predict who may commit welfare fraud wrongly targeted women and immigrants who didn’t speak Dutch.

The authors turn a skeptical eye as well toward companies mainly focused on existential risks, like artificial general intelligence, the concept of a super-powerful algorithm better than humans at performing labor. Though, they don’t scoff at the idea of AGI. “When I decided to become a computer scientist, the ability to contribute to AGI was a big part of my own identity and motivation,” says Narayanan. The misalignment comes from companies prioritizing long-term risk factors above the impact AI tools have on people right now, a common refrain I’ve heard from researchers.

Much of the hype and misunderstandings can also be blamed on shoddy, non-reproducible research, the authors claim. “We found that in a large number of fields, the issue of data leakage leads to overoptimistic claims about how well AI works,” says Kapoor. Data leakage is essentially when AI is tested using part of the model’s training data—similar to handing out the answers to students before conducting an exam.

While academics are portrayed in AI Snake Oil as making “textbook errors,” journalists are more maliciously motivated and knowingly in the wrong, according to the Princeton researchers: “Many articles are just reworded press releases laundered as news.” Reporters who sidestep honest reporting in favor of maintaining their relationships with big tech companies and protecting their access to the companies’ executives are noted as especially toxic.

I think the criticisms about access journalism are fair. In retrospect, I could have asked tougher or more savvy questions during some interviews with the stakeholders at the most important companies in AI. But the authors might be oversimplifying the matter here. The fact that big AI companies let me in the door doesn’t prevent me from writing skeptical articles about their technology, or working on investigative pieces I know will piss them off. (Yes, even if they make business deals, like OpenAI did, with the parent company of WIRED.)

And sensational news stories can be misleading about AI’s true capabilities. Narayanan and Kapoor highlight New York Times columnist Kevin Roose’s 2023 chatbot transcript interacting with Microsoft's tool headlined “Bing’s A.I. Chat: ‘I Want to Be Alive. 😈’” as an example of journalists sowing public confusion about sentient algorithms. “Roose was one of the people who wrote these articles,” says Kapoor. “But I think when you see headline after headline that's talking about chatbots wanting to come to life, it can be pretty impactful on the public psyche.” Kapoor mentions the ELIZA chatbot from the 1960s, whose users quickly anthropomorphized a crude AI tool, as a prime example of the lasting urge to project human qualities onto mere algorithms.

Roose declined to comment when reached via email and instead pointed me to a passage from his related column, published separately from the extensive chatbot transcript, where he explicitly states that he knows the AI is not sentient. The introduction to his chatbot transcript focuses on “its secret desire to be human” as well as “thoughts about its creators,” and the comment section is strewn with readers anxious about the chatbot’s power.

Images accompanying news articles are also called into question in AI Snake Oil. Publications often use clichéd visual metaphors, like photos of robots, at the top of a story to represent artificial intelligence features. Another common trope, an illustration of an altered human brain brimming with computer circuitry used to represent the AI’s neural network, irritates the authors. “We're not huge fans of circuit brain,” says Narayanan. “I think that metaphor is so problematic. It just comes out of this idea that intelligence is all about computation.” He suggests images of AI chips or graphics processing units should be used to visually represent reported pieces about artificial intelligence.

Education Is All You Need

The adamant admonishment of the AI hype cycle comes from the authors’ belief that large language models will actually continue to have a significant influence on society and should be discussed with more accuracy. “It's hard to overstate the impact LLMs might have in the next few decades,” says Kapoor. Even if an AI bubble does eventually pop, I agree that aspects of generative tools will be sticky enough to stay around in some form. And the proliferation of generative AI tools, which developers are currently pushing out to the public through smartphone apps and even formatting devices around it, just heightens the necessity for better education on what AI even is and its limitations.

The first step to understanding AI better is coming to terms with the vagueness of the term, which flattens an array of tools and areas of research, like natural language processing, into a tidy, marketable package. AI Snake Oil divides artificial intelligence into two subcategories: predictive AI, which uses data to assess future outcomes; and generative AI, which crafts probable answers to prompts based on past data.

It’s worth it for anyone who encounters AI tools, willingly or not, to spend at least a little time trying to better grasp key concepts, like machine learning and neural networks, to further demystify the technology and inoculate themselves from the bombardment of AI hype.

During my time covering AI for the past two years, I’ve learned that even if readers grasp a few of the limitations of generative tools, like inaccurate outputs or biased answers, many people are still hazy about all of its weaknesses. For example, in the upcoming season of AI Unlocked, my newsletter designed to help readers experiment with AI and understand it better, we included a whole lesson dedicated to examining whether ChatGPT can be trusted to dispense medical advice based on questions submitted by readers. (And whether it will keep your prompts about that weird toenail fungus private.)

A user may approach the AI’s outputs with more skepticism when they have a better understanding of where the model’s training data came from—often the depths of the internet or Reddit threads—and it may hamper their misplaced trust in the software.

Narayanan believes so strongly in the importance of quality education that he began teaching his children about the benefits and downsides of AI at a very young age. “I think it should start from elementary school,” he says. “As a parent, but also based on my understanding of the research, my approach to this is very tech-forward.”

Generative AI may now be able to write half-decent emails and help you communicate sometimes, but only well-informed humans have the power to correct breakdowns in understanding around this technology and craft a more accurate narrative moving forward.