#redundant. whoops.

[gholdengodaily]

[ Reply To ] [ @book-of-legends ]

"Assuming it has- but I figure you wouldn't be able to use the Universe Gates for other things if a war was still going on. How'd they go from tools of war to being used the way they are now?"

[hauntingofhouses]

i know I've mentioned my interpretation of mizu's gender a million times on here but i don't think i ever fully elaborated on it.

so on that note i just wanna ramble about that for a bit. basically, it's my reading of the show that mizu is nonbinary, so let me dig into that.

putting the rest under the cut because it ended up being pretty long lol. also here have a cute mizu pic of her being happy and most at ease with herself, symbolised by her letting her hair down. <3 ok let's proceed.

thus, when i refer to mizu as nonbinary, i am interpreting mizu as a woman, but not ONLY a woman. not strictly a woman. she is also a man. she is also neither of these things, she is something in between, while at the same time she is none of these at all. i've said as much many times, but i just don't want people to think that when i say nonbinary, it inherently means a "third androgynous gender" that essentially turns the gender binary into a gender trinary. not only is that going against what the term nonbinary was crafted for (to go against rigid boxes and categorisation of gender identities), but also, not all nonbinary people fall under that category or definition, and that's definitely not the way i interpret mizu.

okay before i go deeper i'd just like to address some important things. first of all, this post is an analysis of canon, and thus everything i am arguing for is about my own interpretation of the show, and not some baseless projected headcanon i am projecting onto the character. please remember there is a difference between an interpretation (subjective; interpretations will differ from viewer to viewer, but ultimately it is firmly rooted in evidence taken from the source material) VS a headcanon (unrelated and often even contrary to what is presented in canon; opinions wildly differ and they cannot be argued for because there is no canonical evidence to back it up).

ALSO please note that nonbinary is an umbrella term. this means that it applies to a vast range of gender identities. other identities that fall under the nonbinary umbrella include agender, bigender, genderfluid, and so on. however, it's my personal preference to use the term nonbinary as it is, simply because i'm not a fan of microlabels (more power to you if you do like them and find they suit you more though!).

also, before anyone fights me on this, let me clarify further that gender means something different to everyone. it's not your biological sex or physical characteristics. but at the same time, gender is not mere presentation. you can be a trans woman and still present masculine—either because you're closeted and forced to, or because you just want to—and either way, that doesn't take away from your identity as a woman. same goes for trans men. if you're a trans man but you wear skirts and don't bind or don't get top surgery, that doesn't make you any less of a man. because gender non-conformity exists, and does not only apply to cis people! some lesbians are nonbinary and prefer using he/him pronouns while dressing masculinely, but that doesn't mean they're a man, or that they're any less of a lesbian. neither does this mean that they're a cis woman.

the thing about queer identities in general is that, like i said, they mean something different to everyone, because how you identify—regardless of your biological attributes and fashion or pronouns—is an extremely personal experience. so a nonbinary person and a gnc cis woman's experiences might have plenty of overlap, but what distinguishes between the two is up to the individual. there's no set requirements to distinguish you as one or the other, but it's up to you to decide what you identify as, based on what you feel. either way, by simply identifying yourself as anything under the LGBTQ+ umbrella, you are already communicating to the world that you are not what a conservative, cisheteronormative society wants you to be.

which is why i find all this queer infighting on labels to be so ridiculous. because we're all fighting the same fight; the common enemy is a societal structure that divides us into set roles and expectations purely based on our biological parts. that's why biological essentialism in the queer community is a fucking disease. because by arguing that women are inherently weak and fragile and soft and gentle and must be protected from evil ugly men, while men are inherently strong and angry and violent and exploitative of women, these people are advocating for the same fucked up system that marginalises and abuses women as well as effeminate and/or gay men.

anyway. i'm going on a tangent. this was meant to be a blue eye samurai post. so yeah back to that— the point i'm trying to make is that there's no singular way to identify as anything, as everyone's views on gender, especially their own, is specific and personal to the individual.

so with that being said, yes you can definitely interpret mizu as a gnc cis woman and that's a totally valid reading of the text. however, interpreting her as nonbinary or transmasc also doesn't take away from her experiences with misogyny and female oppression, because nonbinary and transmasc folks also experience these things.

me, personally, i view her as nonbinary but not necessarily or not always transmasc because i still believe femininity and womanhood is a very inherent part of who mizu is. for example, from what we've seen, she does not like binding. it does not give her gender euphoria, but is instead very uncomfortable for her both physically and mentally, and represents her suppressing her true self. which is why when she "invites the whole" of herself, she stands completely bare in front of the fire, breasts unbound and hair untied. when she is on the ship heading to a new land in the ending scene, she is no longer hiding her neck and the lack of an adam's apple. we can thus infer that mizu does not have body dysmorphia. she is, in fact, comfortable in her body, and relies on it extremely, because her body is a weapon. instead, what mizu hates about herself is her face—her blue eyes. she hates herself for her hybridised racial identity, hates herself for being a racial Other. hates that she has no home in her homeland. thus it is important to note that these are not queer or feminist themes, but postcolonial ones.*

* and as a tiny aside on this subject, i really do wish more of the fandom discussion would talk about this more. it's just such an essential part to reading her character. like someone who's read homi k bhabha's location of culture and has watched this show, PLEASE talk to me so we can ramble all about how the show is all about home and alienation from community. please. okay anyway—

nevertheless, queer and feminist themes (which are not mutually exclusive by the way!) are still prevalent in her story, though they are not the main issue that she is struggling with. but she does struggle with it to some extent, and we see this especially during her marriage with mikio, where we see her struggle in women's domestic spaces.

on the other hand, though, she finds no trouble or discomfort in being a man or being around other men—even naked ones—and does not seem stifled by living as one, does not seem all that bothered or uncomfortable navigating through men's spaces. contrast this to something like disney's mulan (1998), where we do see mulan struggle in navigating through men's spaces, as she feels uncomfortable being around so many men, always feeling like she doesn't belong and that she's inherently different from them. mizu has no such experiences like this, as her very personality and approach to life is what can be categorised as typically "masculine". she is straightforward and blunt. her first meeting with mikio, she tells him straight to his face that he's old while frowning and raising a brow at him. she approaches problems with her muscles and fists (or swords), rather than with her words or mind. compare this with mulan, who, while well-trained by the end of the movie, still uses her sharp wits rather than brute strength. this is a typically "feminine" approach. it's also the approach akemi relies on throughout the show—through her intelligence and persuasive tongue, she navigates the brothel with ease. mizu, in contrast to someone like mulan and akemi, struggles with womanhood and femininity, and feels detached from it.

thus, in my opinion, mizu is not simply a man, nor is she simply a woman. she is both. man and woman. masculine and feminine. she has to accept both, rather than suppress one or the other. her name means water. fluid.

as a side note, while i do believe mizu is nonbinary, i also primarily use she/her pronouns for her, but this is a personal preference. i find it's easier to use in fanfic (singular they is confusing to write stories with, but again, that's just my feelings on it, and this is coming from someone who uses they/they pronouns). i also lean towards she/her because it's what the creators and all the official promotional copywriting of the show uses. and even though i am a "death to the author" enjoyer, i feel that when interpreting things that are left open-ended, it does help to look at the creators' take on things. also because, in general, being nonbinary simply doesn't necessitate the use of they/them pronouns. nonbinary is not just a third gender. it's about breaking the binary, in any which way, and that's exactly what mizu does, constantly.

also, i'd also like to mention that one of show's head of story even referred to her with the term "nonbinary", rather than simply "androgynous" (see pic below). and it's possible this could be a slip up on his part, in which he believes the terms are interchangeable (they're not btw), but regardless i find it a very interesting word choice, and one that supports my argument.

so anyway yeah that's my incredibly long rambling post.

TL;DR nonbinary mizu rights 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻 congrats if you reached the end of this btw. also ily. unless you're a TERF in which case fuck off. ok i'm done.

[punkbxt]

the people in charge of nutrek dont care about the ideals and premise of star trek and star trek: picard is its biggest tell. its a story that would have been much better if they hadnt brought back legacy characters but also would have been much better had it not been written at all because nobody wants more space cops

the moment picard decided to wash his hands clean of the romulan android situation was the moment i knew that oh this isnt the picard everyone has come to know and love. at his core who he is someone that would not let anyone die if he could help it. like thats his thing if he has the power to help he will!! and yeah sure thats shown in pic too but he literally was like ‘fuck you federation im not gonna help u ignore the romulans cries for help’ when he fr coulda just asked for forgiveness after helping with the power he had as a respected captain or whatever he is. something EVERY oldtrek captain has done time and time again

and yes! characters and their ideals change over time but not fucking like THAT

pic takes a tragedy, a genocide, and takes the romulans, a species that has for the most part always been the enemies of the federation and makes them easy prey. it makes them evil except for those that defected or disguised themselves (look up white passing and what it was actually for and why its a thing). and to put it into more understandable words:

lets say the federation is usamerica (bc for all intents and purposes thats literally what it represents) and that the romulans represent people of color and jews. pic serves for us on a platter that the genocide was just another thing that happened and “its okay they died anyways. romulans have never been on the side of the federation and never wanted to be anyways so no loss” this is what the federation believes

pic has been severely affected by white supremacist and antisemitic ideology and like while yeah science fiction is used to discuss and challenge the oppression we experience today, youd think a franchise that has always preached about diversity inclusion and acceptance would finally get over mass genocide of a “lesser” race as a form of storytelling. its uncomfortable and not in a way in which it makes you think but in a way that shows that even hundreds of years in the future vitriol prevails and it fucking sucks. its harmful towards people of color and jews when even in science fiction we cant escape that someone out there wants us dead

we’ve had enough of white supremacy and antisemitism taking a lil seat at the table to cause ruckus there are 100% other things that could have created and interesting dilema. the federation is literally on some cristobal colon shit n the more nutrek that gets made the less star trek holds up the ideals of diversity inclusion acceptance and love that it preached from its inception. we are instead given a narrative that yeah no matter how long you fight no matter how hard you fight you will NEVER win because systemic racism always wins in the end. its a tired and weak narrative and just goes to show if you dont have any other engaging stories to tell just stop telling the stories and stop ruining characters by making them do things they absolutely wouldnt even stand for

we r stuck with characters that suck up to other characters just because of their legacy and the writing when everyone deserves to be way more mad at picard. sidenote all of the genuine progress that has been made in television with diversity and representation has gone like 20 steps back when it comes to portraying people of color bc not ONE from the main crew passes the paper bag test (again ive only seen season one) which further goes to show white supremacist ideals subtly shining through

the point of star trek is that there will be a better more welcoming loving kinder future than the present and the past. and yeah theyve never been good at portraying that exactly because hope cannot exist without despair. but if you do not learn the mistakes of the past you are bound to repeat them and clearly these writers have not been studying the source material

hope this helps idk man i just b saying shit sometimes sorry if some stuff is repetitive

[grimark]

emerging from my uni's course enrolments portal covered in blood and snot and dried tears and visibly trembling

[awkwardlyaaron]

For the amount of fireworks your not supposed to have in oregon I am hearing a LOT of fireworks

And they think they could deal with stricter gun laws?

You can't even stop people from blowing up pretty pollution bombs every year

[yuenthevoices]

Hay I’m the anon who recommended nautica to you I got one more her name is velocity she’s from a transformer series called more then meets the eye

She’s a medic and some great headcanons of her would be her learning about the human body and how it affects her relationship with her human s/o

hey again anon! thanks for another great recommendation! honestly i just loving thinking about how the more medical/scientific bots would react in general to how funky human functions are so this is kinda just kick that i needed to yap about it. it'll also just be more general headcanons and not Velocity specific (even tho i already love her). i'm sure somebody else has written something about this or something similar but this is kinda what i think of it

funky human functions (aka cybertronians being worried as shit)

i'll just start with the obvious of humans being organics - they find it weird, but not THAT weird

sure somethings they need to get used to, such as how fragile humans are compared to them, but i don't think that's specifically what would weird them out

i think the main thing that would freak out many of the medical/scientifically inclined bots are some of the (stupid) functions of the human body

their human buddy/partner having a side stitch/cramp seemingly out of nowhere and has to take a minute

or when their human sits/stands up a little too fast and they kinda sway a bit or just immediately fall back into their seat like "oh whoops i stood up too fast"

their bot kinda has the medical student syndrome where they rush to basically the worst conclusion, like "omg wtf are you experiencing organ failure???" and the human's just like "nah thats normal give me like a second" and lo and behold they are in fact fine after a minute

doing research on the human body they would find so many seemingly redundant functions we have or just inefficient compared to what cybertronians are used to

for example, how there are commonly humans born with conditions where something in the human body just doesn't work properly - like eyesight problems, essentially any ailment where the human body produces too much or too little of something that they need, etc.

of course it's not exactly easy to replace organic body parts so like they're researching human treatments as well

even if they do study human functions for a while, i still think there would be some niche things that would surprise/scare them

ex: that feeling when, as you're falling asleep, you're body just jerks like you got hit with a taser - i specifically imagine Ratchet with this one because i think he'd have the funniest reaction - but it's usually some variation of first asking if the human's alright, and then asking why tf that just happened

[reverieblondie]

Meeting

Pairing: Gabriel O'Hara X Spider-woman!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Some Plot, Mutual pining, Lots of teasing, Miguel is a cock block, Inappropriate use of a work table, Lab sex, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Hair Pulling, Fingering.

Summary: It all started with a boring Spider Society meeting...then you two just couldn't stop seeing each other.

A/N: So I usually only write about Miguel but I was inspired to make the when I saw h4mmiee's Gabriel doodles, Please check them out they are great:

Here

Here

Anyways, I will hopefully have two more Miguel x reader fics up by Friday, so please look for those. I hope you enjoy this in the mean time, it was supposed to be shorter but I got carried away, whoops.

Word Count: 6,552

Another dull meeting at the spider society, Miguel O’Hara the boss man himself stands on the stage giving us our usual depriving. Don’t go on missions alone, report anomalies in your dimension, turn in all paperwork promptly, keep an eye on new recruits, blah blah blah…

This all feels so redundant now, we have these meetings every six weeks on the dot. All the spiders are here getting our lecture from Miguel, as he stands on his stage. You were standing in the front row so you got an unobstructed view of the leader. Usually, you get lucky and get to stand in the back, losing yourself in a daydream to pass the time, with the others who are also not particularly fond of the meeting's usual dull tones. But today you don't have such luck, being in the front means you have to look interested or you could earn a scolding from Miguel. No thanks. 

As you look at Miguel you see the select few who got to stand up on the stage with him. His closest allies get the pleasure of standing on the rise and looking out to the crowd; those with this honor are Jess Drew, Peter B Parker, and Ben Reilly. unsure exactly why those three get to be there but they seem to always be the ones Miguel tells the most things to. Miguel's AI LYLA also makes a cameo, though a small one with her glowing at Miguel's shoulder. But someone is missing you notice. 

Then there he is emerging from the doors at a quickened pace trying to get to his usual spot on the stage. Gabriel O'Hara, the Spider societies lead technician, is the one who helps develop the tech here and works to keep everything functioning. You didn't know him personally, in fact, the only time you ever have had a chance to see the infamous Gabriel O’Hara was at these meetings. Everyone knew that Gabriel and Miguel were brothers, the resemblance was uncanny from what you could see. 

It was a little-known fact that Gabriel was always working in the back labs somewhere so not a lot of people had stories of him. Those who do, always positively speak of him. Apparently, the brothers were like opposites. Interesting… 

Gabriel spills onto the stage beside Ben trying to brush off the fact that he is definitely late and will properly get a lecture on punctuality from Miguel after this. Your mind wonders, thinking about Gabriel and his role in HQ, and why he was late. Why did he even come to these? If you were him you would find an excuse to skip these meetings using the whole I'm not a Spider-person as an excuse. 

Wrapped in thought you don't realize that your eyes are glued on him, watching as he gets in his usual place, looking out to the crowd. You haven't even noted that you are staring, but he has. Gabriel slides his eyes towards you, then he flashes you a grin. The sudden smile seems to wake you up from your thoughts. You quickly avert your eyes, A bit embarrassed being caught staring and thrown by the smile.

 Wait, did he just smile at me? No right? I mean we don’t even know each other?

You look back up and his eyes have returned to Miguel giving his speech. A tinge of disappointment rushes through you. But almost as if he can hear your thoughts he looks back at you and smiles again adding a slight wave. 

Looking to your left looking then to your right you try to figure out who he is waving at. Looking back at him he gives a slight chuckle before mouthing the word “hi” to you. 

Okay yep, he has noticed you, I mean it would be rude not to respond right?

Smiling, you give him a “hey” in return. He eyes you for a moment before mouthing “How are you?”. This makes you giddy, is he really doing this now? “Good” you mouth in return. This was definitely a turn of events. And here you thought you were going to have to deal with another grueling meeting with nothing to distract you, but here he is.  

You mouth back to him “You were late” wanting to tease him for his unprofessionalism that you definitely didn’t care about. His eyes light up at your words “I know, work-related” he responds with a smile and a slight roll of his eyes. Adorable just adorable; you nod, well he's definitely keeping you interested. “Did I miss anything?” he tilts his head giving you a knowing smile, he knows he didn't miss anything, it's always the same thing at these meetings. You shake your head no “Same as usual”. 

Gabriel is amused by this and starts to mouth some more words but quicker this time. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare trying to catch what he is saying but he's moving his mouth too fast. He finally stops and smiles at you pleased with himself. All you can do is look at him and shake your head not catching what he is trying to say. This seemed to only encourage him to continue to mouth words at you quickly then stopping to see your reaction.

You smile and shake your head again and mouth “I can't make out what you are saying.”. Gabriel's eyes widen slightly and his lips creep into a sly grin “I know”. Oh, he's enjoying this, now playing this little game with you. However you can't deny you're enjoying playing back. 

It's then that your spider senses shake you slightly, looking over you realize that Miguel is no longer talking. Jess is talking about teams and mentoring positions available. Not listening because all your attention has gone to the fact that Miguel's eyes are glued to you with a confused look on his face. Quickly you stop smiling and avert your eyes from him. Miguel's glare, then shifts to Gabriel, leaning in, Miguel whispers something to Gabriel and then goes back to listening to Jess. 

 Shifting your eyes back over at Gabriel,  his eyes move back to you, he mouths the word “busted”, grinning widely. This earns a chuckle from you, he was busted but he didn't seem to care all that much. 

You and Gabriel continue to steal looks from one another for the rest of the meeting. When the grueling meeting comes to a close and people start to flood out of the room you give Gabriel a small wave goodbye and head out the door. 

It seems like everyone is eager to get on with their day moving out of the meeting room in haste. Once you are finally out you head to where your duties are, you were on paperwork duty for the week and you absolutely were dreading it. Not wanting to think about the grueling task ahead, You think back on Gabriel and giggle to yourself. He seemed like a playful person completely different from his older brother. 

Then your spider senses start to tingle and you quickly look to your right. There's Gabriel with his hand extended out to touch your shoulder but your senses gave him away. Seeming surprised by your sudden turning he smiles at you and then puts a serious look on his face furrowing his eyebrows, “Don’t you know you're not supposed to goof off during meetings? You could miss something important.” He says in a mocking tone.

Laughing at his impression of seriousness, you quip back “Oh? is that what you think?” You put your hands on your hips and cock one to the side. His Smile spreads wide at you, looking at you up and down for a quick moment. 

“It's what my brother told me I should think'' he holds his hand out to you “I’m Gabriel O’Hara, and you are?” you shake his hand introducing yourself, and swapping pleasantries while you do. 

His hands are bigger than yours and have calluses from him working hard on different machines all the time. Now that you're closer to him you can see the differences between him and Miguel, like Gabriel's green eyes and slight freckles that dust his cheeks. His hair was exactly like Miguel’s but he kept it loose rather than brushed back. Also with him up close to you now you could get a better look at the goggles attached to his head and a striped scarf that hung down from his neck. He was good-looking, and he knew it. The hint was the confidence that flowed out of him.

“So where are you heading off to now? A dangerous mission? Going to fight crime and save the day somewhere?” A smile is painted on his face as he asks you. “Oh yeah I have a very dangerous villain I have to fight, it's called paperwork and if I don’t turn it in on time the whole universe could shatter” Everyone in the society thought that the paperwork we had to do was ridiculous, this universe was so futuristic and we still had to fill paperwork? The hell?

Gabriel tsks “That danm paperwork, you think we could find a better way to log reports? Well if you find yourself with some downtime you should come by the lower floor tech lab, that's usually where I'm held up at.” 

You nod “I might just do that,” you say walking backwards to your work area keeping your eyes on Gabriel before turning around to get your work started. 

Gabriel watches you walk away, your hips swaying in a way that he can't help but smile at, he is appreciating the must wear your spider suit rule right now as he watches your form, his eyes glued to the tightness of your suit and the way it leaves little to the imagination.

 “Oh I am in trouble,” he whispered to himself with a shake of his head, before walking down to his lab. 

-----

Turns out that getting downtime while working at the Spider Society is a lot harder than you originally thought. It had been a couple of days and you finally had nothing on your plate to take care of so you slowly made your way to the tech lab on the lower level to hopefully have an impromptu meeting with Gabriel. During your time working you couldn't help your thoughts running back to your first meeting with the younger O’Hara. So it was only natural you were eager to get to see him again.  

Never having been to this part of HQ before you note that it was pretty deserted, the only things you could see were all the different machines, some whirling and operating while others were broken down into parts. This place seemed like a maze with you having to take turns constantly and having to go a different way when you would hit a dead end. This is where he works? No wonder he was late to the meeting. He probably got lost down here. 

Continuing to walk,  you start to hear what sounds like a voice and it sounds irritated. As you get closer and closer you can hear it more clearly and the words that are being slipped. 

“Come on you know you wanna…” 

“That's it keep humming for me, very good…”

“Mierda…” (shit)

The words you were hearing caused you to blush, is that Gabriel? Who is he talking to? When you round the corner you see Gabriel working on a machine, he's completely focused on his work. The whole body is crouched down in the machine, small grunts and the sound of metal scratching can be heard as he works tentatively.  The machine would seem to start working when Gabriel was working on it but quickly would shut off as he started to move out from under it. 

Getting closer and leaning against a machine a smirk on your face as you watch Gabriel work. From this angle, you can see his muscular back, oh? Hiding some lean muscle huh? Being so close to him you can observe his muscles tense as he continues to get more irritated, the smirk never leaving your face. 

“Come on your dirty thing, work for me!” 

The machine starts to whirl and work as he continues his tinkering. 

“That's a girl, work for Papi”

“So does talking to the machines help?” you say startling him

“ah, ¿qué carajos?” (What the fuck!?) Gabriel jumps at your voice and hits his head on the machine, he looks at you with goggles on his eyes as he rubs his head. standing there you can't help your giggle at his surprise. He lights up in your presence, quickly he moves his goggles to the top of his head to reveal his green eyes. 

 “Hey! You finally got some downtime!” He quickly stands to his full height with a warm smile looking down at you. 

“Yeah I did, I am a pretty busy woman so it took me some time to get all my stuff done.” you smile at him he seems excited to see you again, which causes your chest to warm up a bit.

 “Do you often talk like that to your machines?” you tease him. 

“Talk dirty? Yeah sometimes if they are being difficult” He says a bit embarrassed but quickly hides it with a smirk. 

“So you talk dirty often then?” you ask with a smile spreading to your lips, wanting to tease him more. But this only gets him to step closer to you and lean down to you slightly, his eyes roaming all over you, watching you as if you just told him a dirty secret about yourself. 

He smirks and looks deep into your eyes, making your heart race and your lower stomach tighten “Why? Are you enjoying it?” 

Oh, he's teasing you back, “Probably not as much as the machine is.” 

Gabriel looks over to the machine and smiles to himself before turning back to you. “Oh yeah, they can't resist my charm or these hands” he holds his large hands up to you in a playful gesture that has you blushing. 

Gabriel goes back to working on the machine stealing glances your way. Walking around you look at the different machines running your finger along some of them. “So how come you only come out during meetings?” darting your eyes to look at his tall figure up and down, when you do you catch his emerald eyes following your form as you walk. 

Moving away from his work, eyes still glued to you he shrugs. “Oh, I don't know, probably because Miguel doesn't like me getting distracted and leaving my work.”

Coming to a stop you look at what appears to be his work table, filled with tools and parts that you couldn't begin to understand. Pushing yourself up you sit yourself on the edge, slightly swaying your feet. Eyes glued to Gabriel as he begins to walk closer to you. That sly smirk on his face filled with mischief that you just couldn't resist. 

“Yeah? What gets you so distracted from your work?” 

Gabriel chuckles and looks to his feet for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Well, I have a proclivity for flirting with pretty girls”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it's very bad, I just can't resist the pull they have on me.”

“I couldn't even imagine how hard that is for you.” 

Gabriel stops right in front of you and leans both arms down to the edge of the table, trapping you between them. Being so close to his face you are trapped looking into his eyes, his tantalizing scent takes over your senses. Flirty smirk still glued to his face he slowly leans into you dragging his hands slowly back. 

“Sometimes it's downright painful.”

His closeness causes your face to flush and your heartbeat to race. Leaning in slightly. 

Gabriel looks from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes again. A slight hum left his lips. Leaning in you know you hardly know him but the tension between you two has been electric. This has to be what he's wanting right? Then he quickly pulls back holding a tool in his hand. 

“Pardon me, I just needed to grab this from behind you real quick.” 

That cocky tease just totally played you! 

Eyes wide you Quickly readjust yourself trying to make it look like you weren't just leaning in for a kiss from him. Gabriel just eyes you and laughs to himself. Great he's an incredibly cute flirt who knows how to push your buttons, you're starting to understand why Miguel keeps him busy in the lab. It's not that he's distracted by us, we would be distracted by him. 

-----

After your first meeting with Gabriel going to his lab to flirt and hang out with him became a common occurrence. Now is flirting on the job acceptable? Not really you knew getting caught would mean some serious Miguel wrath but you justify to yourself that Gabri might just be worth it. 

The more you spent around him the more and more you wanted him, but you were not going to be the one to break first. The two of you seemed to be in an unspoken game, the game? See who can tease the other until they confess their feelings, or break the tension first. He was a tease and proved to be good at the game, but you will be damned to be the one to break first. The tension between you building and building till someone was going to burst. With any luck it would be him, you just need to be patient and play the game to the best of your ability. 

You two were not the only ones to note the sparks between you. People had started noticing the flirting and the stolen glances. Though to save your skin you had to play it off as just harmless fun, though on the inside you were burning with want. 

“You know Miguel won’t like that you're getting so close to his brother,” Jess says as she picks the tomatoes from her burger

“I say keep going, maybe one day you will be his sister-in-law and he will have to see you at family BBQs” Peter chuckles as he steals Jess’s unwanted tomatoes to stack on his burger. 

“Okay, wow, we are not talking about marriage. We are just flirting a little here and there is no harm, no foul.” taking a bite out of the blue and red burger, it's funny you thought that the food coloring would make it taste strange but the 2099 burger was actually decent. 

“All I am saying is be careful flirting so close to trouble, speaking of…” 

Jess trails off as she nudges her head behind you. Turning you see Gabriel approaching, quickly turning you check your teeth to make sure you don't have anything caught. This action causes Jess to roll her eyes and Peter to give you a thumbs up. Turning back around you kick the chair out next to you for Gabriel to sit. 

“Lunch out of the Lab? What's the occasion?” 

Gabriel sits down with a giddy smile “They are serving Birria! So I had to come get some.” Gabriel starts to eat the stew-like soup with glee. You watch Him enjoying his lunch, in a moment of relaxation, you rest your palm in your hand as you just observe him eating. Gabriel turns to you a mouth stuffed with birria, you quickly adjust your stare from him back to your burger. Seeing that you are watching he quickly swallows his food and hits his chest from eating too fast. 

“What did you get?” he looks over to your plate and sees that you are eating the burger with his brother's face, he scrunches his nose at you. When he does you note how this makes him look like his brother but you wouldn't mention that. 

“What's with the face? It's pretty good” You take a bite and chew and Gabriel's face contorts with disgust. 

“Yeah no I’m not going to eat something that looks like my brother” 

“Your loss”

“Here, put that monstrosity down and try some real food” Gabriel takes the spoon away from his lips and fills it with the hot liquid. Grabbing your chin gently with his warm fingers, he turns you to face him, that flirty smirk on his face and he watches you with hooded eyes. 

“Ah~” He teases as he brings the soup to your parted lips. Watching as you take the soup hypnotized by his emerald eyes. Taking the spoon in your mouth tasting the perfectly seasoned liquid, you can't help but blush at the fact you are using the spoon he previously had his mouth on. An indirect kiss is all that floods your brain as Gabriel just watches you, fingers slightly rubbing your soft skin. 

“It's good huh?” His voice purrs staring at your lips

The sound of a clearing throat breaks the tension as you look at Jess, she shakes her head and Peter just smiles as he takes in the moment you two just shared. Feeling your face heat up you quickly avert your gaze back to your unfinished lunch, your sudden bashfulness doesn't seem to faze Gabriel as he swings his arm around your chair and leans closer to you. 

“I could give you more if you want,” his voice whispers to your flushed ear, sending your brain swirling. 

It was a loaded question, he knew it, you knew it, but would you crack? 

Then just as if it could sense the tension Gabriel's watch starts to ring and Layla makes her appearance. 

“Hey Gabri, Miguel says he needs to see you.”  

“Can it wait till I’m done with lunch?”

“He insists it's urgent” 

With that Gabriel sighs and quickly eats his soup, taking the bowl to swallow down the contents. Turning to you he winks “Duty calls, see ya bichita.” 

Quickly darting towards Miguel's office his scarf and large jacket look like a flowing cape as he runs off. Staring, a smile tugging at your lips as you watch him go, but then you feel a set of eyes piercing you, you turn to see an unimpressed-looking Jess and a giggling Peter. 

“What?”

“Girl, you're in trouble” Shaking her head she leaves you at the table and Peter follows behind her laughing. 

-----

The next day you hadn’t seen or heard from Gabriel so it was the perfect excuse to go see him. Walking into his lab you see Gabriel. He seems sweaty like he's been doing strenuous work. The subtle sheen of sweat resting on his face makes your mouth water. Moving around the lab he's picking up what seems to be heavy machinery, this is what must have made him all sweaty not that you're complaining. 

Gabriel tries to lift what seems to be a very large, very heavy piece of equipment, he tries to lift it, even tries pushing but it’s not bugging. Sauntering over you look at his struggle, it strangely excites you watching him, face contorting in frustration, skin glowing from sweat, breath heavy with exhaustion. Wonder if he looks like that during…Taking a deep breath you calm yourself before you approach. 

“Hey Gabri, looks like you're struggling a bit. Let me help you” 

Bending over you go to grab the equipment Gabriel tries to stop you. “Wait it's too-”

Before he can get the last word out you have lifted the equipment over your head holding it with ease. 

“Huh, sometimes I forget you have super strength…” he marvels as you move with the machine with ease. 

“What? I don't have super strength? I'm just that jacked.” You say in sarcasm before You flex your arm to show off your muscles. 

Gabriel laughs, “Must be nice to be able to lift whatever you want.” 

Opening your mouth you go to rebuttal his comment but as you're placing the equipment down you see how Gabriel's face seems to flush from watching you work, he quickly turns to hide his flushed features. This is an interesting development, he's made you nervous about two times now. Maybe it's time we make him nervous…

Walking up behind Gabriel you quickly scoop the taller man from his feet and hold him like a bride, a wide grin painted on your lips as you take in his slight squeal and shocked expression.

“Yeah, it sometimes has its perks like getting to surprise people” You boost with him in your arms. If you didn't have powers you could never lift him. Not always loving being a spider-woman. It's moments like this that make everything worth it. 

“Aw don't worry, I won't drop you” You tease him as he tries to change his expression to fit that of someone who is unfazed, failing miserably he decides to lean into the role of a saved civilian. 

“Oh Spider-woman your my hero” he bats his lashes at you 

“All in a day's work Sir, no big deal” 

“Oh, well I just have to repay you somehow, you know for lifting that heavy machine and lifting me to carry me” You gently put him back on his feet, his tall stature immediately towering over you as you do. 

Craning your head up to meet his eyes you feel his hand brush against your jaw, thumb rubbing your cheek. “How about a kiss Spider-Woman?” Leaning down he is inches from your lips, noses almost touching, those green eyes studying your face. Is this him breaking? Is he going to pull back? Is this real?  

“Can I kiss you Y/N?”

It's real, you can feel your heart thrumming like crazy. This feeling is so intense. 

Your lips part and you start to rise to your tiptoes. Gabriel's other hand finds your soft neck as he leans down. Hands searching for anything to grab, they find a place gripping onto his striped scarf. Finally one of you broke and it’s led to this perfect moment. 

“Gabri, I think we need to relook at the go-home machine, I think if we can program it to work faster we could, oh…” Miguel stops walking and tapping away at his watch when he sees you and Gabriel in such proximity. Face contorting from surprise to confusion, to annoyance. 

Damnit…

Gabriel and you quickly let go of each other and face Miguel. Miguel walks closer to you two, his face in that unhappy glare. 

 “What are you two doing?” he asks placing his hands on hips narrow waist

“I-I-Uh-” you nervously stumble over your words trying to find an excuse. 

“She was helping me out, I needed someone with strength to lift some heavy equipment” pointing to the large machine you have effortlessly moved. 

“Well looks moved, you should head back to your dimension if you're done with your duties today,” Miguel says in a serious tone. 

With a quick nod, you slip past Miguel and look back at Gabriel. Looking back at him he looks like he is bracing for a lecture from Miguel. Feeling guilty because you know those are never fun. Miguel starts tapping his watch, something he does before lectures, you assume to think of what he will say before he says it. Gabriel's eyes land on you, he looks serious preparing for his talking to, then just like a flip of a switch, he gives a mischievous smirk with a wink. 

And with that, you knew you were going to break first. 

 -----

Miguel made sure to keep everyone extremely busy after he saw you and Gabriel together, maybe you were reading too much into it but it seemed to be the only correlation. It had been four days since you saw Gabriel and you were getting antsy. The almost kiss played on a loop over and over in your mind. The sudden distance between you two only made your thoughts of him run rampant. The whole absence makes the heart grow fonder thing was right. Not seeing Gabriel for four days made you realize how much you enjoyed being near him and how desperate you were to kiss him finally. You two had teased each other and flirted enough, it was now time to do something about it. 

As you wind and twist your way through the maze you make your way closer to Gabriel's lab, you didn't know what you would say or do once you saw him you just knew you had an uncontrollable urge, a desire to be near him and you couldn't wait anymore. 

Finally getting through the maze of a lab you reach your goal, Gabriel.

Gabriel sees you enter the lab, giving you a sweet smile and putting down the small apparatus he was tinkering with. 

“Well if it isn’t Spider-Woman, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Gabriel strides over to you still insistent on teasing you like always. Danm, He gets cuter every damn time you see him. That cocky strut is like he knows why you're here like he knows how bad you have it for him. Hating to lose the game but you're going to burst if you don't, just swallow your pride, tell him…

“My w-watch, it's acting weird.” you quickly stumble out. Okay, what the fuck? That's not the plan? What the hell is the matter with you?

Looking at you with concern Gabriel grabs your hand lifting your arm to examine the watch. 

“Well, that's not good bichita. Step into my office, let's see if I can't help you out.” 

Guiding you through the lab he takes you to his work table. Swiftly he grabs your hips and lifts you on the table. A small Squeak leaves you for a moment, you're here to confess and he's still making you nervous, danm…

He takes his time examining your watch. Nesting himself between your legs making your breath get shaky. He then raises his eyebrows in concern and shock. 

“Oh wow this isn’t good, it's really messed up…”

“What really?” You look down in surprise. 

Gabriel taps his index finger on your nose making you look back up to him. “No, it’s perfectly fine, now why are you really here?”

Taking your arm back you adjust your watch on your wrist looking at him irritatedly. “Don’t scare me like that…” 

“Well don’t lie to me, what’s up? You don’t need a reason to come see me, you should know that?” 

Starting to chew on your bottom lip you look at him and nod. “I know, I just…the thing is…I hate losing.”

Lifting an eyebrow confused he pry for you to elaborate. “Okay? What did you lose?”

Holding your head down you sigh and point between the two of you. “This I lose the game, which sucks because I almost won if it wasn’t for-” 

Before you can finish your sentence Gabriel's hands gently grab your face and lifts it to meet his emerald eyes, then his soft lips are meeting yours. The kiss was tender and passionate, his large hands carefully gliding down from your face. The slow movement of his fingers leaves a heated trail on your skin. Finally, his hands met yours, intertwined his fingers with yours holding your hands tightly, as if he didnt you would disappear. With a swift gradation of intensity, the kiss from his instant lips has yours parting making your body quake as you begin to feel the slight teasing of his tongue to yours.

Pulling back he's the first to relinquish the kiss looking into your kissed-hazed eyes. “I lose…this stupid little game between us, I lose, you win.” 

Grabbing onto his scarf you bring him closer so you're whispering into his lips. “You're not going to be a sore loser right?”

He laughs slightly “I will gladly lose to you whenever you want” 

With that you pull him into a passionate kiss, quickly heating to a blazing fever that has you both instantly stripping each other trying to cool the raging fire between you. 

Before you know it you're bent over his work table, bare for his taking. Warm lips kiss up your spine while his index finger explores your soft folds, finding you already desperately wet. 

“Wow, I don’t even need to prep you, so fuckin’ wet for me,” Gabriel says, his finger still rubbing through you teasing at the opening of your slit. 

Moaning and leaning into his finger you're desperate for him but he's insistent on still teasing you. Slowly he begins to plunge his finger into your walls and the sweet stretch has you rocking back and forth only to get worse once he slips a second in curling into you. 

“Amas mis manos, ¿verdad?” (You love my hands don't you?)

Nodding you are willing to agree with anything he says as long as it means more. A chuckle leaves his lips and he takes his other hand and starts rubbing tight circles on your clit, slightly pinching the bud to make your hips jump forward. You can't help the embarrassing moans that escaped your lips but Gabriel just relishes in them.  “That's it, gemido por papi.” (Moan for Papi)

You're approaching your orgasm quickly just from riding his skillful hands. Uncontrollably you're squirming underneath him, thighs closing and tightening around his arm. Gabriel nudges your feet further apart with his foot spreading you open and plunging deeper till you're practically panting as he continues curling into you and abusing your swollen clit. “No, no, stay spread for me, can't make you cum with you getting shy like that” he purrs into your ear. 

Your moans are reverberating through the lab, it is music to his ears getting to hear you approach your high. “God, bichita I've been wanting to do this to you for weeks, I didn't imagine you would be so loud though. Aw, don't hold it in now, I want to hear you scream my name.” 

The new pace as you lean further on the table as you clench down on his fingers screaming out his name as your orgasm flows over you, your juices coating his digits, some of it falling onto his floor. Gabriel finally pulls his fingers from you looking at your quivering pussy as you shake from your orgasm, tilting his head he watches as your juices drip to the floor, he lazily sucks the slick from his fingers releasing them with a pop. 

“Danm, you're making a mess on my floor.” Before you can turn you feel a hand caressing your ass and his breath fanning your ear “Let's make a bigger mess shall we?” 

You feel his hand grab onto your hip and rub small circles, then you feel him pushing against you, foot kicking yours to spread open again, he's going to have to break you of that habit. Then his cock is rubbing against your wet folds, and you're instantly ready to go again, breathing quickening in anticipation.  Carefully his tip teases your entrance before slipping into you spreading you open with a moan escaping your lips. Starting slowly he kisses your shoulders as he slowly pistons his cock, loving to see your pussy gripping onto his cock. The soft pleading of your moans and mewling of his name is making him throb inside you, like a siren song to fuck into you harder. 

Answering your sinful song he grabs a handful of your hair before his thrusting into you harder and faster. 

“Harder, Ha-Harder!” you cry chasing his cock with your hips. 

“Harder? Oh, dirty girl, you're already gripping me so tight and you want it harder? ” His hand presses down on your back stilling you as he fucks harder into your squealing cunt. Hiccuping and slurring you're getting drunk from the pace he's pushing into you. Sweat is forming on him as his chest starts to burn, taking his hand from your hair he lifts your leg to where your knee is on the table, pushing himself deeper where his tip is nudging that sweet spot that has you clamping around his cock. 

Approaching your second orgasm he takes his hand and rubs those same tight circles on your clit. Finally, you're coming undone on his cock, squirting on him. Gabriel lets you ride out your high as long as he can before he's about to bust inside of you, finally when you're wiggling and whining in overstimulation he's pulling out and cumming his thick cum on your ass. Gasping from the sudden emptiness, your skin tingles as you feel the warm liquid run down your leg. 

Gabriel is quick to leave a barrage of kisses on your back. He quickly grabs a clean rag and wipes the cum dripping down your leg off you coo sweetly to you. Turning to face him, your chest fills warm from his tired-looking expression, you're quick to wrap your hands around him and kiss him sweetly. Gabriel surrenders to your gentle kiss, but slowly you become more ravenous taking the lead, your tongue eager to push through to taste him again.      

Breaking the kiss to catch his breath he looks into your eyes, and all his confidence wavers as he sees the hunger in your eyes. You're already ready for the next round and he's still recovering. Using your hand you push his chest gently backing him onto the table. A sweet smile on your lips as you watch him lean against the table watching you with bated breath. Before he can even try to make a move or say something he is lifted and pinned on top of his disheveled work table. The surprised look on his face has you licking your lips as you crawl on top of him. 

You look as if you could devour him, he can't help how it's making his cock hard again. A smirk falls onto your lips as you see his excitement. Straddling him you start to lazily pump his cock making his hips buckle and he moans from the overstimulation. 

“Spidey powers means I have crazy endurance and quick recovery time. Can you keep up?” You start to pump his cock faster making him moan and the precum to pebble from his cock. 

Gabriel hiccups and hastily nods, he would do whatever you wanted of him. 

Leaning down you lick the secretion off his tip making him whimper and throw his head back.  

“Good…” you purr.

-----

Completely spent you lay your tired body next to Gaberials. Your head resting on his warm chest, you could hear how his heart was still racing. Your stamina being higher than his, he had worked double time to satisfy you. Watch beeping, Gabriel lazily looks and sighs seeing that it is time for another one of the dull meetings. 

“We have a meeting to go to” 

Looking at him you think for a moment then a sly smile crosses your lips

“Well, that's no fun” 

“No, it's not” 

“Want to go take a shower in my dimension instead?”

A gasp leaves his lips “And skip our very important and completely not irrelevant meeting instead?”  

Biting your lip holding in a laugh you nod enthusiastically. 

Gabriel kisses your nose “Let me grab my clothes.” 

[coelpts]

alright, guess we're complaining now.

[Image ID: First image: A cropped screenshot of Tumblr's Friday, May 26th, 2023 changelog which reads, "On web, clicking anywhere in a post’s header now opens that post. Previously, you had to click specifically on the blog name."

Second image: A cropped screenshot of Tumblr's Tuesday, May 30th, 2023 changelog which reads, "To clarify a point made in last Friday’s post: on web, clicking the reblogged-from blog name in a reblog’s post header now takes you to that blog, not their reblog. Clicking in the empty space in the post’s header, and in the header of each reblog trail item, now takes you to that specific post in the blog view popup. This is one of a series of updates we’re making to the reblog consumption experience across all platforms, to make it more intuitive and consistent, especially for new users." End ID.]

Tumblr, this change is bad. A lot of other people have already shared their own complaints for this new and awful system, but it's time for me to properly throw my hat in the ring instead of at-ing you directly due to user error. Whoops.

[UPDATE 6/11/2023] HORRIBLE NEWS, EVERYONE! This change has hit mobile. There is no longer any way to access the previous version of a post except through theme reblog chaining on desktop. I've added some extra fun comments both as an edit to this post and as a reblog so nobody misses out.

All my complaints are in the read more because this got LONG.

TL;DR- This change breaks a major signifier used across the site, removes post functionality only to replace it with redundant blog links, and completely destroys a primary mode of social interaction that's been used on Tumblr for over a decade. Here's the Tumblr Staff support link so you can give feedback on how bad this change is.

Part One: Signifiers and Consistency

This is my biggest point, so it will be a bit of a doozy. Strap in.

This change is about making Tumblr operation 'intuitive and consistent' by unifying behavior between like-designed parts of the site. Now on the face that's not a bad reason to do things, and making sure users are able to intuit what a button does based on its properties is good design. I'll give an example:

Hearts symbolize the 'Like' function on Tumblr. The heart button on a post adds it to your Likes, the Likes option on your account is accompanied by that same heart, and Likes show up in post notes with that heart. This heart, then, becomes a consistent and reliable signifier. If you see a heart button on Tumblr, then whatever it's attached to probably has something to do with Likes.

So, back to the change. This change relates to the signifier of the 'Tumblr blog url link'. The idea is thus- on other parts of the site, such as the Search tab on mobile and on a blog in the dashboard tray, you will see related or similar blog suggestions like these:

[Image ID: First image: A cropped screenshot of Tumblr's Getting Started help page. It shows an example blog with the 'Blogs like this one' tray visible, populated with four example blogs.

Second image: A second cropped screenshot of Tumblr's Getting Started help page. It shows an example of the Search page on mobile with the 'Check out these blogs' feature highlighted, where two example blog cards are shown. End ID.]

These suggestions are Tumblr blog urls paired with their icon and a little bit of their blog, either the title or some recent posts of theirs. If you click on that url title, the link follows through to that blog. So there's the signifier: click on the url, go to the blog.

But now we have a bit of a snag. What about these?

[Image ID: A cropped reblog screenshot. The crop shows the Tumblr urls of the reblogger @coelpts and reblogged @coelpts-artchives with the reblog symbol between them, the rebloggers icon, and the date that this reblog was posted. End ID.]

Well, these LOOK like Tumblr blog url links. They're styled in the same way. In fact, the reblogger even has a blog icon next to it! So all signs point to these url links pointing directly to a Tumblr blog if clicked on. After this change, that's exactly what they do- so, like, no problem, right?

But, hold on. There's another signifier here! These aren't JUST Tumblr blog url links! This is…

[Image ID: First image: The former image of a cropped reblog screenshot, focused on the urls and reblog icon.

Second image: The Tumblr reblog icon. End ID.]

Our good friend, the Reblog button! That's another classic Tumblr signifier, and it sits right next to the Like button I pontificated about. Reblogs are an integral part of Tumblr, and on top of every single reblogged post you will see that icon. And would you look at that- it's even the same color as the second url link!

Those url links that established the 'url link' signifier that we talked about before, in the search page and on the dashboard tray, aren't attached to any posts. But this url is, and the reblog symbol is right next to it. The reblog signifier modifies the url link signifier. This link should go to the reblog from this user. Right? Because it is a reblog FROM that url link- so that's where it should go! And that's where it used to go, before this update.

[EDIT] I came back to fix some typos I noticed but while I was away I tested mobile to see if this change hit the app yet. It has not, but what I saw instead confirmed the above point- on mobile, selecting the reblogged's url ALSO highlights the reblog icon next to it! These two signifiers are connected, and should be read together.

By changing the url links to be more 'consistent' with other url links across the site, a major signifier that keeps the site together has been broken entirely. What should lead to a reblog- something that is clearly shown through use of a recognizable, consistent symbol- no longer does.

Part Two: Redundant Redundancy

Okay, so that's not all this change does. It also adds a brand new functionality to the post header- the white space is now clickable and serves as a replacement for the original 'to this post' link on the reblogger's side of things. These headers also generate for anyone who adds to the post, and you can click through OP too.

[Image ID: The cropped reblog screenshot from before, but with the word 'Clickable!' written in purple in the blank space above the date. End ID.]

This is also part of that design unity thing; on mobile tapping anywhere on the post header takes you to the post, and you can only tap on the blog url of the person the reblogger reblogged from. That makes sense, since on mobile you're maneuvering your fingers on a small screen and tapping a tiny url next to another tiny url is bound to cause problems.

I don't necessarily have a problem with this on the base of it. I have opinions about mobile and desktop parity that aren't really important here, but it does nicely showcase an issue I DO have- most of the changes made to reblogged posts are completely redundant and unnecessary.

---

[UPDATE] This change has hit mobile now, and it's added a fun new complaint about desktop-mobile parity that is now very suddenly a problem; the headers generated from reblogs with content don't have any responsive feedback for tapping them on mobile. OPs does, but any old Joes doesn't. This is not true on desktop, where on-hover a post header will change color; on mobile they stay completely white and plain with no on-tap color change. On top of that, the new headers are actually harder to see on mobile! There's no clear way to actually see where the header starts and the post continues! Tapping a header was deeply confusing because I got no confirmation I did anything of value until I was wisked away to a post- there's no signifier on mobile that this is a thing you can press.

This is what I was talking about in regards to desktop and mobile parity that wasn't important at the time- what's good for mobile isn't always good for desktop and vice versa. Having a post header be tappable on mobile instead of op's url link, where you have less fine motor control and there's a lot of small buttons clustered together, makes sense; but making all post headers into buttons on desktop isn't a good idea because they aren't 'buttons' and it's very hard to make it clear they are. I mentioned signifiers above and that applies to this change- there just aren't enough signs that show these are all buttons now and where they go. The fact that they're completely unresponsive on mobile really is the cherry on top, because you do not KNOW it's a button unless you tap it accidentally or already know from desktop that all headers link to reblogged posts. The design has been made more confusing; what was a functional affordance on mobile has been applied to desktop without limits or concern, making the original mobile affordance more confusing and producing a poor signifier.

Alright, that's enough from future me. Let's get back to the original post, about how this change that introduces a bad signifier is also redundant.

---

First of all, it's not like clicking the link url just threw you into a post abyss when you clicked it. Clicking through to a reblog…still took you to that blog, both on mobile and on desktop. On mobile all you need to look through the blog proper is to pull down and refresh; on desktop it's even easier, because following a link pulls up the dashboard tray for that blog with the blogs url immediately below their icon.

[Image ID: A screenshot of the previously cropped reblog, now shown on the blog @coelpts. The post is on the left, and the user info card is on the right. End ID.]

This change then removes one step to get to the front of a blogs page, and puts the original longer path on the new clickable header. They go to the same place, the first is just exactly one click faster. You could do the exact same thing by clicking the user icon instead.

But wait! We can get even more redundant! You know what else is standard Tumblr functionality on desktop? The hover card!

[Image ID: A screenshot of the previously cropped reblog, now showing the card for @coelpts-artchives below the icon. It has the blog title and description alongside three popular posts. A purple arrow points to it from the url. End ID.]

If you hover over any url link for about a second, a card for that blog will pop up. This tray lets you follow a blog, send asks, report them, check their popular posts and do a bunch of stuff straight from the dashboard. It also takes you directly to their blog if you click the url link on the card itself! That's right, there was already a way to go directly to the blog the previous user reblogged from! And every single blog url link does this, too- not just on post headers, but even in the text of a post itself.

So before this change, you had five ways of interacting on a post:

Click the reblogger's url > Reblogger's post.

Click the reblogged's url > Reblogged's post.

Click the reblogger's icon > Reblogger's blog.

Hover on the reblogger's url > Reblogger's blog.

Hover on the reblogged's url > Reblogged's blog.

One of these is redundant, but that's fine- it's just how url links work, and it's better that all urls can do that. Signifiers, we talked about this. But every other link goes to a different place, including the previous version of the post.

After this change, there's six, with changes in bold:

Click the reblogger's url > Reblogger's blog.

Click the reblogged's url > Reblogged's blog.

Click the reblogger's icon > Reblogger's blog.

Hover on the reblogger's url > Reblogger's blog.

Hover on the reblogged's url > Reblogged's blog.

Click the white space header next to a user > User's post.

We now have three ways of getting to the blog of the person who reblogged this post, two ways to get to the blog of the person they reblogged from, ONE way to get to the post, and ONLY if someone added to it!

This change removes functionality and replaces it with needless redundancy. As I said near the top of this section, we could already get to the blog through a reblog link- so all this does is remove getting to previous post iterations.

Part Three: Broken Chains

And hey, let's talk about previous post iterations. Y'know, something that's super important on Tumblr? Different versions of a post float around the site for years- some have been around for a decade or more. And some are only available for one post.

As I'm sure everyone knows, unless a group of tags are peer reviewed and added to the body of the post itself or are appended to the next reblog in the chain, they only exist on that version of the post. This means every iteration of a post is functionally unique, and long before we were given the ability to check the tags on a reblog directly, the only way you could check the tags for a post was by checking every iteration. This practice still exists today with 'prev tags'- users still find it useful to gesture to a previous version of a post and show what other people were thinking or add their own thoughts.

Remember the new redundant links? All that means you can't get to a previous version of a post anymore. Those tags are functionally lost now, unless you dig through that persons blog or through all the notes of a specific post. Sure that may not be a problem for a post with 300 notes or so- but what about 27,000? What about a post that was reblogged three weeks ago? If you're trying to wrangle Tumblr's dodgy search function on the blog itself, what if the post has no text to search for, or if the blog has it's search function turned off? Any post tagged with prev tags now directs to literally nothing. Anyone arguing or conversing in the tags is now speaking at air to everyone else.

There is still one way to trace reblogs. You can access the blog itself- not the dashboard tray, but the actual url.tumblr.com blog- by using a hidden link in the meatball menu off the side of the post.

[Image ID: A screenshot of the previously cropped reblog, now showing the meatballs menu accessed. The first option, showing the date of the reblog, is highlighted. A purple arrow points to this option from the meatballs menu icon and a circle is drawn around it. End ID.]

From there, you can track a post backwards through proper blogs. The reblogged posts will have a 'via Blog' note on them, and you can follow that trail all the way up a chain.

…Unless someone doesn't have a theme enabled. Without a theme, a user won't have a url.tumblr.com domain and it will redirect to the dashboard tray, breaking the chain. And, as of an older update, blogs by default do not have themes enabled- so any and all new users suddenly roadblock this process. Oops.

All of this means that what was once a convenient social aspect of Tumblr has been completely severed with little to no alternative. Trying to wade through hundreds upon hundreds of notes to find the one you're looking for is tedious, time consuming, and potentially impossible if the post is large enough.

Finale: What Now?

Right, so- this sucks. I didn't even go into how this makes it tough to find and block cr/pt/t/rfs if a post passes into their hateful space, or how this makes it harder to copy post links without tracking shit because it's in a different menu now, or how it's now more difficult to access a previous post for reporting purposes. All that shit's also true, but they're side effects of the big three problems the changes introduce.

This change is ultimately user-hostile and seems to follow the worrying trend of 'other sites are doing it, so let's do it too!' Tumblr's been kicking about recently. Tumblr Live, the new change to images and videos, gating viewing posts behind making an account, and attempted algorithm feeds through 'Best Stuff First' and 'Based On Your Likes' are what immediately come to mind. Tumblr's defining, driving aspect for it's continued existence has and always will be its uniqueness. Pretending to be Instagram and TikTok and fucking Twitter will do it absolutely no favors- all it does is undermine what actually makes this site, as a social platform, interesting and vibrant.

But it's one thing to just complain and it's another entirely to provide feedback. Here's a link to the Tumblr Staff support page. They've walked back on new features before when we've made a ruckus- the Shop icon replacement is on the forefront of my mind right now- so it's time to make another.

TL;DR 2- This change makes browsing Tumblr more difficult than it needs to be. It breaks previously established signifiers and removes vital social functions only to add redundant and empty features to cater to a new userbase instead of actually improving the site for the users they already have. It's not a good change.

Thanks for reading ✌️

[daisyrb-gvf]

Cruising Into Love

d.r.w. x f!reader

My first post on tumblr, but definitely not my first fic. Danny's cruise picture had this story pouring out of me, so I hope you all like it! I thought this first chapter would be longer than it is, but the next part of the story deserves its' own chapter.

Words: 3.2k

Summary: After 3 mundane months of working on a cruise ship, you're met with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

Warnings: plenty of swooning, language and brief mentions of f masturbation.

You sigh as you zip up the back of your fitted black dress. Another night, another performance. You love being an entertainer, and sitting behind the keys is as close to home as you can get on this ship, but after 3 months of your 8 month stretch, it is starting to feel so redundant, and there are only so many songs that are approved to perform at the piano bar. The boss wasn’t too pleased with your medley of LL Cool J songs with an audience consisting of mainly 50-80 year olds. Tight ass. 

“Just three more nights and you get a break,” you reassure yourself as you touch up your makeup in the pathetically tiny mirror that looks huge in this shoebox of a bathroom. 

“Alright girl, I’m off,” you say to your slightly-less-than-pleasant bunk mate. It could be worse, but it would have been nice to bunk with someone who actually seemed to give even half a fuck about you. At least she wasn’t mean. Just…distant. 

“Kay,” she replied with enthusiasm akin to a corpse, not bothering to look up from the sketch she was working on. You sighed again, feeling like you’ll never be able to chip away at that wall. You didn’t come here to make friends, but damn, a little human connection would be nice sometimes. 

– – –

Your body shuddered as you threw back a shot of tequila at the bar. “Thanks, Chris,” you said to the bartender-one of the few people who will have an actual conversation with you. He winked before flicking his eyes over to a young, classically hot dude. Boyish features, blue eyes, sandy blonde hair…you get it, but definitely not your type. 

“Down boy,” you say with a chuckle as you wink back at him. 

Settling down at the keys, the audience gives you a small applause as the chatting dies down. 

“How’s everyone feeling tonight?” you ask the small crowd, mustering up as much enthusiasm as you can. You get a small cheer, and a few whoops from the more inebriated folks. “You mind if I play a few songs for you?” A louder cheer encourages you as your hands start to dance across the ivory keys. 

Ooh you can dance

You can jive

Having the time of your life

Ooh, see that girl

Watch that scene

Digging the dancing queen

The crowd sings along with you-definitely one of the more tone-deaf groups you’ve played for, but at least they seem to be having fun. Dancing Queen is always a good opener, and one of your favorites, so you prefer to start the shows this way. 

The crowd cheers as you segue into your next number. People are getting tipsier with each song, and you have to admit, it is pretty entertaining. Drunk crowds are typically great audiences unless they get belligerent. 

“Alright, it’s been a blast playing for you all tonight,” you say as you start the intro to your final song.

I needed the shelter of someone’s arms

And there you were

I needed someone to understand my ups and downs

And there you were

WIth sweet love and devotion–

Holy shit. Who is that guy? A tall, dark, and handsome man emerged into your view after an elderly couple left the table in front of his. You miss a note and snap back into focus through the chorus. What the hell? Why is some random-admittedly gorgeous-dude throwing you off? That’s new. You make it through the second verse, but after that it’s impossible to not steal another glance. Your knees get a little shaky as you drink him in, thankfully keeping your shit together in your performance. You watch him sing along as he drums his fingers on the little bistro table. You realize you glanced a little too long once he smirks at you, locking eyes. You blush red and avoid the entire corner of the room where he is sitting for the rest of the song. Oh God, how embarrassing.  

The crowd cheers as the song ends and you take a bow before immediately walking back over to the bar…which, unfortunately, is far too near the gorgeous man in the corner. 

“One more tequila, please, Chris,” you say anxiously as he chuckles. 

“Little flustered there, aren’t you? Wouldn’t have anything to do with that yummy Greek statue of a man there in the corner would it?”

“Shut up, Chris,” you whisper, your face turning redder by the second. 

“Mmhmm, okay. Whatever you say,” he says with a smirk before walking to the other end of the bar serving the influx of post-performance guests. 

Walking out of the room, you make it maybe ten feet before realizing you left your phone behind the bar. 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, debating on walking back now or waiting until the crowd clears in hopes of avoiding the gorgeous creature who made you pathetically weak in the knees. 

“Oh, come on, he is just a man. Get the fuck over it,” you mutter again, rolling your eyes at yourself. You turn around and make it one step before slamming straight into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” you both say in unison as large, warm hands wrap around your shoulders, steadying you. Of-fucking-course. 

“Oh, no worries!” the insanely beautiful man replies, dropping his hands from your shoulders. The summer breeze feels colder than it had before as your whole body flushes. 

“Oh-um-yeah, okay,” you sputter out with a nervous smile. Good God, get your shit together. 

He chuckles, “Your performance was great. We loved it,” he says warmly as a beautiful, tall, brunette woman walks up next to him. Of course. There’s no way this man could be single. It only makes sense that he would have one of the most staggeringly gorgeous women on his arm. 

“Yes, it was lovely!” she chimes in, hooking her arm through his as she reaches out a hand to shake yours. 

“Oh, thank you!” trying to stay as cool as possible and not show your disappointment, you shake her hand and flash a smile. 

“I’m Josie, and this is my brother, Danny,” she introduces. 

Oh. Brother. He’s her brother. The relief you feel is embarrassing and you hope it doesn’t show on your face. You sense it does, based on the tiny smirk Josie is clearly trying to hold back. 

“Nice to run into you,” Danny says with a chuckle, reaching his hand out to shake yours as well. He holds your gaze for just a moment longer than you expected. Just long enough for your breath to catch as you get lost in his dark hazel eyes…flecks of gold, brown, and green-the warmest eyes you’ve ever seen. He flashes a bright white smile that makes your chest tighten. 

“Yeah, uh, you too,” you reply with a nervous giggle, your voice barely shaky. Oh my God, you are so fucking embarrassing. 

“Come on, Dan. We’re late meeting mom and dad,” Josie says, leading Danny down the hallway. “Nice meeting you!” 

“Yeah, you too!” You stay glued in place for a moment, watching them walk away. Damn, the back looks just as good as the front. Danny turns around at that moment, catching you staring. He smirks and winks before turning back around, disappearing as they turn a corner. 

“Real smooth, you idiot,” you sigh, tossing your head back before walking back into the bar. 

– – –

You got almost no sleep that night, and it infuriated you. Losing sleep over a man you barely met. Get a grip…but, those eyes-such a warm hue, long lashes, smooth, tan skin, he had a little dusting of freckles on his cheeks and angular, almost avian, nose. His features were masculine and sharp, with a jaw that could probably cut glass, but his kind eyes and heart-melting smile made him seem so…soft. You could tell he was a man who wasn’t afraid to do some grooming and pampering. With skin like that and shiny, dark brown, perfect ringlets of hair long enough to barely brush his shoulders…yeah, he put some effort into his appearance. His demeanor didn’t seem cocky or vain, though. Confident, sure, but not full of himself. Ugh, and then that body. 

“Oh, come on,” you say exasperatedly to yourself as you roll over for what was probably the 20th time, trying to relax. “You’re not 13 years old. For God’s sake, you are 25. Act like it.” 

You take a deep breath and relax one muscle at a time, feeling the gentle rocking of the ship lulling you to sleep. You start to drift off and the image of Danny turning around to wink at you jolts you awake again. 

“What the hell? May as well just stop fighting it,” you say defeatedly, letting your mind drift off to Danny with no resistance. You close your eyes again as you try to remember every detail. His sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, slender hips and legs, but you could definitely see the muscle definition under those tight black jeans. You let out a little giggle as you remember the cheesy little shark tooth necklace dangling on his collarbone, just above a small patch of black hair dusted on his sternum. His short-sleeved top was unbuttoned just below his pecs, leaving the rest of his torso up to your imagination. You find yourself imagining how it would feel to run your hands over his warm, undoubtedly hard, stomach before smoothing them around to his back, running up to his sturdy, broad shoulders. You know what would help you sleep, but even alone in your bunk, you’re embarrassed that seeing this man for a few moments would cause you to slip your hand into your shorts. You wonder if you had met him earlier in the day it would have given you time to shake it off. Maybe take a run around the 7th floor track that wraps around the ship on the deck. But for now, you need sleep, so you do what needs to be done. Thank God your bunkmate is working the overnight shift. It only takes a few minutes before you finish with a soft sigh, drifting off to sleep seconds later. 

– – –

Hard as you tried, you can’t help but feel a slight pang of disappointment when Danny doesn’t show up at the next night’s performance, and you feel pathetic for that. This is a huge ship. It’s impossible to do even half of the activities offered, so why would he come to the same show twice? To see you? Come on, girl. Get real. The self-loathing is bubbling up inside you as you attempt to exhaust yourself by running seven miles. Does it work? Absolutely not. You’ve never felt so electric and energized. Any other time you would have been grateful, but not now. Not when, despite your exhaustive efforts, you still find yourself relieving that ache in your core before drifting off to sleep. 

Rolling out of bed the next morning, you feel a bit better. The exhaustion from your run the day before caught up to you, and your legs feel like they are on fire. Thank God. Despite the pain, you brush your teeth, throw your hair in a bun, and slip on a tank top, shorts and running shoes, making your way to the 7th floor. Maybe after today’s run you won’t even think about him when you fall into bed tonight. 

A small smile forms on your face as you close your eyes, feeling the sea breeze enveloping you as you step through the double glass doors onto the deck. Most people you know prefer to run out on forest trails, feeling the crunch of leaves and soft dirt under their feet, seeing the sun filter through quaking aspens, hearing songs from morning birds harmonizing together. You love it too, but the power and energy that the ocean offers can’t be beat. You start off with a slow jog, warming up your aching muscles, before finding your stride. You feel as if the ocean is running alongside you, the waves matching your pace. You finally start to feel like you’ve found your footing again-literally and figuratively. After your first lap you see a few more people making their way onto the deck. Most come out for a nice walk, just enjoying the view they don’t get to see often. You see a sweet old couple, moseying along hand-in-hand. Just walking silently. Comfortably together. This is a common sight around here, but you feel a bittersweet sort of heartache for just a moment before someone whizzes right past you. 

Long legs, narrow hips, mess of dark chocolate curls tickling those broad, tanned shoulders with each step, the navy blue muscle tee giving you a much better view of those shoulders as they flex and move in tandem with his strong, lean legs. Legs that he clearly enjoys showing off based on the yellow shortie-shorts he’s sporting. You increase your pace with a surge of adrenaline, but also so you can get as close as you can to the view. As he reaches the curve of the track at the front of the ship, he looks over his shoulder at you, grinning before picking up his pace. Is he…challenging you? Oh, it is so on. You weren’t an all-state track star for nothing. You grin and take a deep breath, pushing yourself faster, the excitement dulling the burning pain in your thighs. Danny hears you round the corner as you catch up to him, chuckling through his steady, heavy breaths. You’re not letting those long, sculpted legs have an advantage over you. Ignoring the burn in your chest, you surge forward faster, eventually passing him. Looking over your shoulder you catch him staring at your ass. He quickly looks away and out at the ocean. If you weren’t puffing and panting so hard, you’d probably giggle, but it’s all you can do to stay focused and not let him catch up to you. You both run another lap, taking turns being in the lead before you both give up and just run at a steady pace next to one another. 

“Okay, I give up,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “You’re good! How long were you running before I came out?” You couldn’t help but shiver slightly hearing the deep timbre of his voice between his panting breaths. 

“Oh, just barely over a lap,” you reply, doing your best to not sound like you’re dying, and failing miserably. 

“Safe to say this is something you do often?” He runs the back of his hand down his neck, wiping off a bead of sweat that rolled from his chin down over his prominent Adam’s apple. 

Taking a big gulp of air that had nothing to do with your exhaustive run, you wipe sweat from your brow and try not to stare at his neck and shoulders glistening in the sunlight. “No, this is my first time,” you say as seriously as you can manage. 

“Are you joking?!” he asks incredulously. 

A laugh bubbles up at the sight of his adorably confused and surprised expression. “Absolutely. I’ve been running basically my whole life.” Your breathing is finally starting to slow along with his, the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders still exaggerated, but not as fast. 

“Oh, thank God,” he replied, flashing that bright smile, your breathing picking up again ever so slightly. 

“Bit competitive, huh?” You walk over and grab a couple of towels and water bottles from the recently restocked shelf. 

He chuckles, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You hand him a towel and bottle and he immediately chugs half of the water, a tiny bit of it running down his chin, the small stream of cool liquid mixing with the sweat on his neck, traveling down his protruding Adam’s apple again. “Thank you,” he says, wiping his brow with the slightly scratchy fabric of the generic beach towel. 

“Oh, yeah..uh, you’re welcome,” you awkwardly sputter, yet again embarrassed by the reaction this man is getting from you for basically just existing. 

He drops his head, clearly trying to be a gentleman and hide his knowing smirk. After a brief awkward moment he looks out at the water. “Bet this never gets old, does it-getting to run with the waves every day?” 

“Never,” you reply, with a contented sigh. “The ocean is the best running buddy I’ve ever had, no offense,” you giggle. 

He chuckles back at you, “None taken. I totally understand. I wish I could do this every day.”

You both saunter over to the railing and lazily lean over the smooth, wooden bar. 

“Well, they’re basically always hiring here. Want a job?” you ask with a chuckle. 

“Don’t tempt me,” he replies, his large hands gripping the rail as he leans back slightly, enjoying the breeze. His damp curls already drying from the salty air. 

“This sea breeze is really the only thing that could do any tempting. Cruise life behind the scenes isn’t very glamorous. I’m sure whatever you’re doing now is better than this.” 

“Maybe so. Depends on the day.” 

“So, what do you do?” you ask, turning around to lean your back against the railing as you take another sip of water. 

“Danny! I thought you said you were going to wait for me?” Josie bursts through the glass doors, looking irritated. “Oh hi!” she says, flashing a bright smile-very similar to her brother’s-at you. “It’s good to see you again. You want to join us on our jog?” 

Josie is so bubbly and bright. She has that magnetic energy that people are just naturally drawn to. Matched with her staggering beauty (that clearly runs in the family), you imagine that there are plenty of unsuspecting people out there who have been left in a haze by her presence. You find yourself just a bit jealous of whatever genes run in that family.

“Oh, thank you for asking, but I actually just finished up here. I don’t think I have another lap left in me,” you chuckle, finishing off what’s left of your water. “Not after kicking this guy’s butt,” you giggle nodding your head in Danny’s direction. 

“Excuse me?” he retorts, “I do believe that it was a tie,” he laughs. My God, he has the most adorable laugh you’ve ever heard-kinda dorky, actually, and you are so glad this Greecian god has been humanized a bit, even if it did make your heart ache more for him. 

“I believe you,” Josie loudly whispered to you with a wink, “and thank you for tiring him out a bit. Now I can outrun him,” she laughed before bolting down the track. 

“Oh come on, sis! That’s not fair!” he called out, running after her. After a few strides he slowed down and turned around, running backward, “It was good to see you again!” 

You watched him run down the track, frozen in place again, until he turned the corner. 

“Guess I’ll be losing more sleep tonight,” you mutter with a sigh before walking inside to take an ice cold shower.

LOTS more Danny in the next chapter, I promise. I'm a slow-burner.

Go to Chapter 2

@spark-my-nature

[karalynlovescake]

Read a whole bunch of rescue fics last week - not Burgess fishbowl rescues but “whoops, Dream got kidnapped again, established relationship Hob to the rescue” fics and I’m all sure, ok I love me some angry “you kidnapped my husband you fuckers” BAMF Hob but why does everyone want Dream?

Wouldn’t some lunatic prefer to get … idk Desire? And didn't the Corinthian SPECIFICALLY name some of the Endless including Desire? Yeah, Burgess wrote that info down in some journal, and some ruthless greedy tech billionaire (I know, redundant adjectives are redundant) got the Burgess journals and is like “well if i can control what people desire I can make them Buy All The Things, I can make investors desire to give me all their funding, and also make all the 19 year old interns fuck me too? Sign me up!" So, let’s kidnap Dream’s LEAST favorite sibling.

And I really want to have Hob be like “what the fuck, babe we have to rescue your sibling” and Dream being all grumpy like “ugh, do we HAVE to?” And Hob be like “YES, do you remember how unhappy you were that none of them came to help you?” and Dream is like “I don’t know, suddenly I can’t read.” and Hob is like “I’m going to rescue them and you’re coming with me,” and Dream is like “whatever, FINE” and sulks the whole fucking time, just absolutely useless, refuses to help other than the minimal amount to keep Hob safe, just sulks in the background in giant nightmare form, all shadow and glowing eyes and pouting turned up to 11, and Hob is doing his BAMF thing left and right and Dream is sulkily deflecting bullets from him because god if he’d known husbands were such a pain he wouldn’t have gotten married. ok that’s a lie. and then they finally find the twins (because Desire and Despair are a package deal and they both got nabbed, and Mr. Billionaire didn’t know what to do with that) and Morpheus sees them and finally gets properly angry because ‘NO ONE GETS TO TORMENT MY SIBLINGS BUT ME’ and then it’s all over.

Desire knows who they really have to thank for getting rescued, and is now extremely well-disposed towards their brother in law.

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

There's Always Time For Second Guesses (I Don't Wanna Know) (One-Shot)

Pairing: Tangerine x Reader

Work Summary: Tangerine x Reader Soulmate AU.

You're on vacation in Japan, trying to get away from the shitstorm that is your life, but you're not prepared for what's waiting for you on the bullet train to Kyoto.

Rating: Teen and up.

Word Count: 3519

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mcximffs @noz4a2 @rottenstyx @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye

Notes:

Warnings for snakes and sadness, general assassin stuff, blood.

Timeline probably doesn't line up with the timeline of the movie, whoops.

---

It was supposed to be fun. The sort of relaxing faux-adventure you get from travelling to the tourist-y destinations of another country. The precursor to a fresh start after everything in your life had gone to shit.

But that wasn’t meant to be. Your carefree vacation had turned into a nightmare over the course of a few hours.

There were people with guns on this train. There was a dead man bleeding out of his eyeballs. Over the course of your journey, the number of train passengers had thinned out, and none of them seemed as worried as you felt. It was like no one else was paying attention. You needed to get out of here, but the next stop wasn’t for another thirty-five minutes.

Heart in your throat, you decided to take your backpack and hide in a bathroom. It was close to one of the exit doors. You would wait until the train was pulling into the next station, and then you would run for it.

That was your plan at least. You sat yourself down on the closed lid of the toilet, trying desperately to forget the face of the blood-covered man. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew exactly how to distract yourself. You’d packed your vacation to the brim, trying to leave yourself as little space for quiet reflection as possible. Maybe this was your penance. Now was the time to think about everything that had brought you here.

For starters, your boyfriend of four years had found his soulmate. It wasn’t as if you’d never considered this eventuality. After all, things like that happened all the time.

You weren’t ready, though, when you came home and found him sitting at the kitchen table with an expression half-guilty, half-ecstatic, the back of his hand stained a bright red.

He had tried to let you down gently; he really had. You hadn’t wanted him to feel guilty, either. It just as easily could’ve happened to you. You wished him the best, and then, when he was gone, you’d cried for three days.

A few days later, you’d found out that the company you worked for was ‘downsizing’ and you hadn’t made the cut. Redundant and freshly unwillingly single, you packed up everything you owned into your car and drove back to your parents’ house.

They had welcomed you back with open arms, but you could see the pity in their eyes. You hated that pity. So you made a decision. You took your redundancy money and decided to go on a trip.

You’d never been to Japan before, even though you’d always meant to. It was an exceptionally beautiful country, but you were still miserable. You had hoped that travelling would decrease the desire to check your ex’s Instagram for pictures of him with his new girlfriend, but it was still a compulsion that you were struggling to break.

You should just delete the app. It’s not like you posted much anyway. As you opened your phone and pressed on that little colourful camera icon, you heard a low hiss.

Your thumb paused over the Instagram app. “Huh?”

Probably the plumbing. It didn’t sound like any pipes you’d ever heard before, but Japanese toilets were different from the ones you were used to. Even though you weren’t using the toilet, you decided to flush, just in case.

A shape caught the corner of your eye, and before you could properly process what you were seeing, a scream ripped its way out of your throat.

A small, yellowish-brown snake slithered had slithered out between your legs. You launched yourself into the door, cursing the lock as you did so. Your fingers fumbled over it, and then, after an agonising moment, managed to unlock it.

You spilled out of the room and almost collided with a man in the process. You stumbled backwards, slamming the door and praying that the snake was now trapped inside.

Feeling unsteady, you almost lost your balance when a warm hand wrapped around your forearm, helping you stay upright. The man’s skin was hot against yours. Too hot. It burned.

He leapt back from you suddenly, and you fell into the wall, stabilizing yourself with one hand. Your eyes darted over him, trying to assess whether he was a threat.

With a jolt, you realised that you recognised him. You had seen him and another man talking to the dead man earlier. He was tall and handsome, with piercing blue eyes, but now, his hair was dishevelled and there were splotches of blood on his clothes.

You took a step back, away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at his hand.

It shimmered, like gold paint. A soulmate mark. Unbidden, your eyes found the spot on your arm where he touched you. It still burned. It had turned a rich, dark blue.

He looked at you then, his eyes roving over your face, trying to take you in. Your cheeks heated up under his penetrating gaze.

“There’s a snake in the bathroom,” you blurted out. You clutched your arm to your chest, cradling it through the burning ache. The man in front of you flexed his hand, and you realised that he must’ve been feeling the same thing. As you glanced at the now closed bathroom door, you had a sinking feeling of dread. “I left my backpack in there.”

“It’s okay, love. I’ll get it back for you.” He smiled at you then, and when you smiled back, you realised that you had never really been in love before.

Your ex was forgiven, the pain forgotten. If his girlfriend made him feel half as good as you did now, how could you possibly blame him for choosing her over you?

As he guided you back into the carriage, gesturing for you sit down, your smile faltered.

“Be careful? Please?”

He chuckled a little at that. “Don’t worry, love, I’m a professional. Just stay here and keep your head down, okay?”

Your heart thudded as you watched him retreat. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to breathe. Today had been quite the day. You were sure you were going to cry as soon as you got away from this train.  

A moment later, your soulmate returned, holding your rucksack. He put it on the seat beside you.

“You need to get off this train, love. It’s not safe here anymore.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

“Okay. We get to Nagoya in…” He checked his watch. “Twenty-five minutes. Let’s find somewhere to lay low.” There was no question as to whether or not you would go with him. Your trust in him was implicit and biological. In the space of a moment, he was yours and you were his. He took your rucksack again and slung it over his shoulder.

He took three steps and then stopped, turning back to you. “I don’t even know your name,” he said, almost apologetically. You gave him your name, and watched that smile spread across his face again. “Tangerine,” he said in response.

“Tangerine?”

“That’s my name. Tangerine.”

You were sure he was lying to you, but you could get into that later. He led you down the train until he found some unoccupied private cabins. He even held the door open for you so that you could go in first.

He was nothing if not a gentleman, evidently. You sat down in the seat next to the window and pulled your legs up onto it, hugging your knees. Tangerine put your bag in the overhead storage and then slid into the seat opposite you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just looked at each other. This was the man that fate said you were going to spend the rest of your life with, whether you liked it or not.

He was certainly very handsome. He was smooth and polite and well-dressed (or at least he had been, earlier). Other than that, you knew almost nothing about him. There was one thing you were sure about though: he was dangerous.

“I saw you and your friend talking to that man earlier. The one who died,” you said.

His lips turned down. “My brother.”

“Sorry?”

“Not my friend. My brother.”

“Your brother,” you repeated. “Where is he?”

Tangerine looked out of the window, frowning. “Dead.”

Your stomach gave a lurch. “What?”

He turned his eyes on you again, and took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself. “There’s some things you should know about me, sweetheart. I am not a good person. I am not a safe person. If you stay with me then you could get hurt.” As he spoke, you felt your stomach sinking. “Me and my brother, we’re- we were- are assassins.”

He shook his head slightly. Until he’d stumbled over his words, the speech had sounded practised. You wondered if he had prepared for this exact moment, when he would meet his soulmate.

“What happened to your brother?” you asked in a small voice.

He sighed deeply. “We were hired to retrieve something. A briefcase. And a person. Trouble is, someone else was hired to kill that person.”

“The man who was bleeding out of his eyes.”

“Right. Seems like this whole train is full of assassins. One of them took Lemon out. That’s why I need to get you out of here. I can’t lose another person today.” His eyes were starting to look very shiny. His hand was curled into a fist on his knee. Cautiously, you reached out and put your hand over it.

You watched as his expression smoothed out. His hand relaxed, and he let you turn it over, taking it between both of yours.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” you said softly.

“…Thanks.”

“You’ll come with me, right? When I leave the train?” you asked.

“I have to finish this job.”

“Why?”

“There’s people who’ll kill me if I don’t.”

“Sounds like there’s people who’ll kill you if you do.” For a moment, he smiled again. It was a reluctant smile, but it was still beautiful, because he was beautiful.

“You’re probably right about that. But still. I have to see this through. I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Frustration was edging into your voice. “What could be worth that?”

He didn’t answer right away. He ran his free hand through his hair, turning back towards the window. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“Okay. I’ll come with you. There’s nothing left for me here, anyway.”

You squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“What about you then? What brings you here? You’re not a local.”

It was your turn to frown. “I guess I was just looking for a distraction.”

“Well, you certainly found one.”

His expression was relaxed again. So you found yourself telling him everything. Your job. Your ex. Your parents. Everything that had been going wrong in your life that had led to you being here. He listened, lacing your fingers together and rubbing over the skin of your palm with his thumb.

The overhead announcement that you were about to pull into Nagoya almost made you jump. It hadn’t felt like twenty-five minutes had passed. Your heart began to speed up again.

Tangerine got to his feet and pulled your rucksack out of the rack above your head. Reluctantly, you stood up too. He swung the bag over one shoulder, and then held out a hand to you. When you didn’t immediately take it, he wiggled his fingers at you.

Okay. So he was cute too. Trying to suppress a smile, you took his hand.

It was a straight shot to the exit. There was a stretch of corridor about ten feet long, and then you would be off the train. You were almost at the door when Tangerine swore loudly, and then pulled you into the space next to the luggage storage.

You squeaked, almost losing your balance, but he put both hands on your shoulders. As the train pulled to a stop, his hands were the only things stopping you from falling into him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked once you’d got your feet under you.

“The man who hired me has got guards on the platform. If I try to get off this train, they’ll kill me.”

It felt like you’d been dunked in a bucket of ice. You’d been so close to getting away.

“What do we do?”

His expression was serious. “You need to get off the train.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “They don’t know you have anything to do with me. You’re just another passenger. They won’t bother you. Take this.” He pulled a wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a handful of cash. “Rent a car. Drive to Kyoto. I’ll meet you there.”

“Tangerine…”

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was scribbling something down on a scrap of paper. As he slid it into your hands, you saw it was a phone number.

“I know today must’ve been terrifying for you,” he said. “So if you don’t call me, I won’t hold it against you. My life is dangerous. I’d hate for you to get hurt. So if that means living without you…” He swallowed. “I can live with that, okay?” You gritted your teeth. Your eyes were stinging. “Come to Kyoto. Or don’t. I’ll understand either way. Okay?”

Your heart was beating hard enough to hurt. You were almost surprised he couldn’t hear it. This beautiful, stupid, dangerous man. You had only just met him, but you’d do anything for him. Even leave, if that’s what he wanted you to do.

You pushed up onto your tiptoes and kissed him. It was a clumsy graze of your lips against his, but before you could rock back on your heels, he grabbed your face and kissed you back properly. You gripped the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, but he pushed you away.

“You need to get off the train,” he said again, looking almost bereft.

You pulled him down to steal one last kiss. “I’ll see you in Kyoto.”

He handed you your rucksack. Resolute, you slipped it on and made your way out into the corridor. With your chin held high, you walked down the little steps off the train and onto the platform.

There were a lot of men in suits milling about, but as Tangerine had predicted, they paid no attention to you. You walked straight over to the car rental office without looking back.

*

The drive to Kyoto was almost two hours. The bullet train would’ve got you there in under forty minutes. You drove the speed limit, rucksack thrown haphazardly into the passenger seat, no question of stopping any time soon, but you still felt Tangerine getting further away from you with every minute.

There had been a lump in your throat ever since you’d left him behind. It would be just your luck to meet your soulmate and then have him die after you’d known him for less than a day.

You couldn’t think like that. You’d never make it to Kyoto if you had a mental breakdown on the drive there. Your eyes darted down to the new patch of blue colour on your arm. It was still as vivid as it had been when he’d first touched you. He was alive. That made it a little easier to breathe.

You were twenty minutes outside Kyoto when you reached the roadblock. There were police everywhere, and no way through. They were trying to direct you down a diversion, but you weren’t having that.

You pulled over to the side of the road and got out. You put on your best clueless tourist face and walked right up to the roadblock.

“Excuse me? Do you speak English?” you asked one of the cops. He held up a hand, telling you to wait, and then went over and spoke to another officer.

The second cop came over to you. “English?” he said.

“Yes. What happened here? Why is the road closed?”

He grimaced at you. “Bullet train derailed. Very bad.”

Your heart seized. You glanced down at your arm again. Still blue. His eyes traced the movement of your gaze right down to your soulmark, and a look of understanding crossed his face.

“My soulmate was on a train to Kyoto,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Not many people on this train. We found no survivors. Only dead.” At the expression on your face, he grimaced again. “Probably not your soulmate. Lots of trains come through here. Maybe on the next one?”

“Maybe,” you said shakily. “Thank you.”

He didn’t say anything else as you turned around to go back to the car. You slid into the driver’s seat, and took a shuddery breath.

Slowly, you unzipped your rucksack and rifled through it, looking for your wallet. In your hurry to get here, you had stuffed it into the top of your bag.

You flipped it open, and there, folded up in the space that used to hold a picture of you and your ex-boyfriend, was the scrap of paper with Tangerine’s phone number on it.

You smoothed it out on your lap. His handwriting was messy – though given the circumstances, you could hardly blame him – but it was still legible. With trembling fingers, you typed the number into your phone.

It was answered before the first ring had even finished.

“Hello?” Tangerine’s voice was in your ear, and your relief came in the form of a rush of tears.

“Tangerine?” you asked, and he said your name in return.

The rest of the phone conversation was hazy. You were crying through it. Eventually, he told you that he’d text you an address, and you needed to meet him there. You promised him you would.

*

It was dark by the time you drove up to the hotel. You pulled into a parking space, turned your engine off, and paused.

You were sure you looked a mess. You’d been crying on and off for hours. You looked at yourself in the rearview mirror and frowned.

“Stop being an idiot,” you muttered to yourself. Tangerine was your soulmate. He wouldn’t care if you were a mess. You took a few deep breaths, and then got out of the car.

The lobby wasn’t manned, so you went straight for the elevator. The floor numbers were handily written in both Japanese and English, so you hit the button for Tangerine’s floor and watched the doors slide closed.

It was very quiet here. The hum of traffic that had kept you company for hours seemed very far away now. You rubbed at your face, trying to get rid of any evidence of tears, to no avail. The elevator dinged.

Jittery, you made your way down the hallway and found the number of Tangerine’s room.

Here goes nothing.

You knocked on the door. There were footsteps, and a moment later, it opened a crack. A dark brown eye peeked out at you.

You were about to start apologising, saying that you had the wrong room, when the man took a step back, opening the door wider, and you recognised him as the man Tangerine had been with earlier. The man he’d called his brother. The man who he’d said was dead.

“Tan!” he called over his shoulder. “It’s for you.”

You heard another door slam shut, frantic footsteps, and then there he was, standing in the doorway.

He was wearing a white bathrobe. His hair, which had been slicked back earlier, was damp and curly. You liked it better that way.

He was no longer covered in blood, but you could see a couple of nasty cuts and bruises. You moved towards each other at the same time. He opened his arms and you stepped in.

He smelled like soap and aftershave. His skin was damp wherever it pressed against yours. He was so attractive that you felt a little light-headed.

A small, gasping sob escaped from your lips, and he immediately drew you tighter into himself, holding you.

“Shh, shh, love, it’s okay,” he murmured, guiding you back into the room. The door fell closed behind you.

You stood there for a moment, clinging to him like a lifeline. For his part, he seemed perfectly content to let you try to burrow your way into his chest.

Somewhere behind him, someone cleared their throat. Feeling a little embarrassed, you pulled back to see Tangerine’s brother lounging on a bed, a book propped open on his lap.

“If you two are gonna carry on like that, I’m gonna get my own room,” he said.

Tangerine chuckled, and then pressed his lips to your temple. “That’s probably for the best. Love, this is my brother, Lemon.”

“I thought you said he was dead?”

“It’s a long story, sweetheart. Come on. Let’s get room service.”

---

'‘Cause there’s always time for second guesses, I don’t wanna know If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I wanna go.'

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Pray For Us, Icarus (series)

For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go...

Length: 65,836 words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Safe in Public, At Home, Human AU, Canon AU, Angst, Romance, One Sitting

Triggers: Temporary Character Death

Read it here, fic by Atalan

*Minor Spoilers* There's nothing I can say about this story that probably hasn't already been said. It is one of the most popular and well-known Good Omens fanfics, and for excellent reason. I know for certain that I'm not the only one who has wept while reading it. Today was my third time with this story, and, whoops, I cried again.

I've tried to express my thoughts in this post in a few different ways. I can't wax poetic about how much I love this story—my writing skills just aren't there. And much of what I've tried to say feels redundant. I even had a whole paragraph comparing it to the themes in this art by chernozemm which is how this story feels to me.

What I've settled on is that you should read this story because it is intrinsically Good Omens Fanfiction. This series only works as Aziraphale and Crowley, and you could not repackage or retell this story for any other fandom, or, God forbid, traditional fiction. All the emotions we feel reading this come from the intimacy we already have with this world and these characters. The story, and the author, know we can read between the lines. Thus, it can drop a simple line and have us crumple because we already know the subtext behind it. That's why I am so addicted to fanfiction! I'm not saying this is the only story that has accomplished this. But I do think it's one of the most successful.

This series, in my opinion, must be read all the way through. In my eyes, this is a singular work and no one should be skipping any part of this saga. It bothers me that the hit counts between the parts is not equal. The first part has 99k hits and the final 47k. The drop off is criminal! Every section of this story is important and critical to the full picture. So if you read the first part, Flowers for Anthony, and did not proceed to the rest of the story, please get on this!

Completely safe in public, but if you can, I really suggest you read this one at home in one sitting. You'll want to devote all your attention to this story. If, for some reason, you haven't read this one yet, please make it a priority! This is one of the most heart-wrenching and romantic stories I've ever read, and it deserves its spot as a fandom classic.

Read it here, fic by Atalan

[tinyundercover]

A10, A11, B6

A10: How would your character react to switching sizes?

yknow what I’m gonna make a separate post about this, just because I have a lot of asks about this and I want to go into detail :> stay tuned

A11: What’s the worst experience your character has ever had with someone of a different size. (Or the best?) 

❗️contains spoilers for pepper&felix through part 13❗️

hehe well pepper has a lot of options. obviously his and felix’s first meeting had been terrifying, especially since he had never met a human before. then there was the time alice kidnapped him which had been completely awful, although at least he knew he had felix around to rescue him. felix interacting with him while drunk had sucked too. 😭 maybe i should give him a break whoops sorry pepper

felix hasn’t had a ton of bad experiences with the borrowers, simply because he is so much bigger and therefore feels more in control. his worst experiences had been when the borrowers were in danger, and while his first interaction with pepper brings back a ton of bad memories for felix, their kidnapping for sure was his worst experience 😔

B6: A trope you’d like to see more of

this is a little redundant but size swaps 😍😍

ok genuinely though, I want to see more of a human shrinking to borrower-size, whether they know about borrowers or not. it has so much potential for fluff or angst, and it’s always so interesting to see a human hang out with a borrower at the same size! I think the reason why a lot of people don’t write it is because it doesn’t contain a lot of g/t interaction, but I LOVEEEEE worldbuilding more than anything and am content to just read two borrowers interacting. like yesss give me the extensive dialogue i love love it sm

[dukestewart]

I actually have a question, I'm wanting to start a webcomic at some point in the future myself, do you have any recommendations or advice for me?

Okay, I have a million things to say on the subject but to save you a lot of scrolling I’ll cut it down to the main things I wish I knew when starting my webcomic.

Don’t overprepare

It’s easy to fall into the trap of perfecting your art style or developing your character arcs before you actually, like, make the thing. The truth is you get diminishing returns on the pre-production phase, and too much planning will just waste your time. I once wrote an entire script and sketched out 200 pages for a graphic novel version of my webcomic Roundhouse, 90% of which is now redundant or contradictory. Probably took me hundreds of hours. Whoops. Make a basic plot line and some concept pictures by all means, you gotta start with something, but you’ll be much more motivated to make the comic when you’re already making it.

Collect references

This might sound kind of contradictory to my previous advice but bear with me. It’s important to prioritise creation over planning but gathering a compendium of your favourite artworks and writing techniques will save you time in the long run. If I’m ever stuck on how to draw a certain expression for example I know I have a folder full of expertly drawn faces to remind me how nostrils work. Personally I keep separate reference folders for colour, anatomy and character designs. Fantastic cure for artist’s block, swear by it.

Get someone to proofread

You have no idea how important it is to get a second opinion. No one in the history of media has ever been better off without a different pair of eyes to catch a mistake. They’ll see the obvious things you missed, a typo, a pacing issue, a joke that makes no sense… if you’re embarrassed to show it to anyone in your life then get an internet friend to have a look. Hell, I’ll have a look. Send me a message, I’m easy.

Even the most talented creators struggle to be seen

A good comic will always have a better chance of success than a crap one but that’s only a part of the equation. We’re forgetting our two troublesome neighbours, Monsieur Marketing and Lady Luck. It stinks, but we operate in an algorithm-based economy, and getting things out there takes a lot of hard research. I hate the marketing side of things, personally. I’d much rather make a page every week and not care whether it’s seen or not but such is the nature of capitalism that I have to try and monetise my work any way I can. Knowing someone in the business can’t hurt either.

Look, I’ll never be able to condense everything I know about webcomics in a single post so consider this my declaration to give advice to anyone who asks for it. Got a specific question about comics? Message me.

[deusvervewrites]

luminary: How does Izuku do in the sports festival

Um. Whoops.

After careful consideration of the abilities of the students in 1-A and 1-B, the canonical entrance exam, and the hypothetical abilities of the Aldera Squad following Midoriya's advice, I believe that Uraraka, Mineta, and Tsuburaba would not have made the cutoff into the Hero Course.

In 1-A, I am replacing them with the girl who can control water and the girl who can control wind, under the assumption that with training they'd be on par with basic waterbending and airbending. In 1-B I have replaced him with the girl who can turn into fire, under the assumption that she can turn part or all of herself into fire and not just her hands.

That leaves five of them in Gen-Ed where I am certain they would befriend Uraraka. This AU wouldn't go full Gen Ed Sweep but Midoriya would be interested in helping out his friends who didn't quite make it, and that now includes Uraraka.

With that established, I can now discuss the actual event.

Midoriya is simply too fast for an Obstacle Race to matter. That entire event has to be changed. Hmm... what about a version of King of the Hill where players have to stay within a specific, shrinking area? That would handle the mass elimination event while still challenging someone as fast as Midoriya. Additionally, this event would work out great for four of the five Aldera Squad kids that are in Gen Ed (smoke boy, hair girl, rock boy, stronk boy).

Cavalry Battle teams would be different. Todoroki's team would probably be the same, but Midoriya would stick with his friends. There's enough that Uraraka would probably be on a different team, and Midoriya would be a horse to exploit his speed. Let's pair him with the Wind Girl; that'll be a busted combo. add Smoke Boy as another horse and the Hair Girl as the rider they're incredibly fast, flying team, that'll be nigh-impossible to catch.

Uraraka can use a similar strategy by pairing up with the fire girl, Grab their telekinetic friend as the rider and can take headbands at a distance. Assuming that someone from this friend group won first in the previous event, they would point Hatsume towards this team, since Midoriya's strategy has no room for her.

That gives us enough room for one more team. With Fire Girl in 1-B, there's less chance of them following Monoma's plan and honestly those teams were so suboptimal anyway.

Alas, of the three remaining Aldera Kids I find to be noteworthy, two have Quirks that are redundant with the established cast (that being the guy who can buff himself up and the guy who can cover himself in rocks), so I might send them to a different Hero School entirely for peace of mind. That leaves only the Water Girl unassigned

Regardless, the final team is probably still Bakugou's.

Lemme quickly randomize a tournament bracket

Tournament Preliminaries:

The Tournament Round gets things off to an interesting start. Bakugou faces Hair Girl, and assuming she can produce more hair as a restraint like similar anime characters, it'd be a close fight, but Bakugou's Quirk counters her decently well.

Second round is Midoriya against Fire Girl, who happens to be one of the few people who can counter him by simply being fire. Though I feel Midoriya would likely win because of his analytical mind.

Yaoyorozu faces off against Todoroki next and wins, but only thanks to her training against Fire Girl and Water Girl with Midoriya--and Todoroki dropped his guard after the big ice attack.

Hatsume forfeits after her presentation, so Sero moves on

Smoke Boy beats Kaminari when Kaminari TKOs himself.

Iida beats Telekinesis Girl.

Wind Girl beats Kirishima--he's too straightforward to counter her effectively at this point.

Ashido vs Uraraka would be much closer if Ashido knew what Uraraka could do. Yeet.

Tournament Quarterfinals:

Midoriya beats Bakugou; Bakugou puts up a good fight because he knows Midoriya, but, well, Light Powers.

Yaoyorozu beats Sero.

Smoke Boy is hard to hit, but he's still working on his offense while Iida has more training in that department, so Iida wins.

Wind Girl is a hard counter to Uraraka. At least they're friends

Tournament Semifinals:

Yaoyorozu can't beat Midoriya (she takes too long to think at this point) but her clever use of a mirror at the start nearly clinches the match for her.

Iida is used to running into the wind, but Wind Girl can fly, so... sorry Iida.

Finals:

Midoriya vs Wind Girl. Midoriya should win this one pretty handily, but her flying makes it tricky for him.

[in-death-we-fall]

Parallel Lives

Kerrang 923, September 28 2002

In Slipknot, Joey Jordison gets to rage. In the Murderdolls, he gets to rock. In both bands, he shits in public…

Words: Ian Winwood Photos: Roxy Erickson

Never let it be said that the Murderdolls lack the capacity to surprise. It’s Thursday night, the penultimate date of their sold-out tour of British clubs, and the band were due onstage 10 minutes ago. Getting a band like this to do anything on time is like turning an oil tanker around, so they’re running late. Which means that the 500 people packed inside Bristol’s Fleece club are just going to have to wait.

Joey Jordison, on the other hand, cannot wait. Opting to change from ugly-men-without-make-up to ugly-men-with-make-up not in the venue’s intimate and inaccessible dressing room, but in their tour bus, the Murderdolls have, for the past 45 minutes, been saying “Excuse me” and “Could you pass the hairspray/lipstick” and getting dressed into stage clothes that have seen less washing powder than the Turin Shroud. It’s like playing Twister with Max Factor.

And it could be worse. Joey Jordison – five feet not very many inches tall, even in ridiculous stage boots – needs to ‘go to the toilet’, and he needs to do this in the ‘I’d leave that for 10 minutes if I were you’ sense of the term. Which is unfortunate, considering that ‘No solids shall be deposited in the tour bus toilet’ is appropriately Rule Number Two in the rock ‘n’ roll code of the road, second only to ‘Do not blow the bus driver’s brains out with a .45 Magnum as he’s hurtling down the motorway at 120 miles per hour’. For Jordison, looking quietly concerned, this is a problem. Think, think, think: what to do?

Joey Jordison decides to resolve his predicament by performing a bowel movement on the pavement, in the street.

You did read that correctly.

“Man, I just took a shit in the street,” he says, almost skipping with joy and pride.

Perhaps to celebrate such a commendable achievement, one of the Murderdolls – and, let’s be honest, aside from Joey Jordison, they all look the same – decides to smash a pint glass. The jar arcs through the air, hitting the cobbled floor with a smash that is, strangely, as satisfying as it is entirely redundant. Then another glass takes flight. Then another, then another. There isn’t much whooping and there isn’t much hollering, but there is plenty of debris.

We’re standing outside a pub, next door to the Fleece. The landlady leans out of the doorway.

“Could you stop that please?” she asks.

“Go back inside lady,” says vocalist Wednesday 13, winner of this week’s stupid name competition. “Go back inside and no-one will get hurt.”

Five minutes ago Wednesday was giving serious consideration to urinating on a Puddle Of Mudd fly poster. He decided not to because the band, as people, are “cool”.

The Murderdolls are now walking toward the stage door.

“Hey, you know about American football right?” asks Eric Griffin, the bass player. Eric has missed a part of the tour after his father died, but now he’s back. “Well in American football this is called a drop-kick.”

Eric throws a pint glass from his hand and tries to kick it. The glass spins from his boot and smashes six inches away.

He adds: “Although it’s not a very good drop-kick.”

Inside the venue, the crowd have heard the intro tape and are starting to cheer. Outside, the band are going inside.

Please welcome, from the United States of Stupidity, The Murderdolls.

The Murderdolls have a song called ‘I Like (sic) To Say Fuck’, which is just as well, because they say fuck all the time; they also have a song called ‘Let’s Fuck’ which is not just as well, if you’re the one in line, because they’re all as ugly as fuck.

Onstage at the Fleece, the band say the word so many times that if they were to keep a swearbox they could, at the end of the tour, purchase a country. So it’s, “Here’s a fucking song for you, Bristol,” and “Are you tired of hearing all the fucking shit on the radio, Bristol?”.

In case, heaven forbid, you get bored of the word “fuck”, The Murderdolls do spice it up and throw it around with the odd “motherfucker” as well. They’re inventive like that.

They’re also, on a night like this, at the very core of their element. When the album, ‘Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls’, is boiled down and fried up in a hateful hall before 500 loving people, you’re seeing this band as they were intended to be seen. It’s here that you can view the parts of the Murderdolls that are A Good Thing, such as the schlock-punk shtick that recalls bands such as the Misfits and the Necros. This is also the place to see the parts of the Murderdolls that are A Bad Thing, such as them revisiting the era of hairspray and shiny guitars that epitomised the glam-metal years.

The Murderdolls will try to guess a woman’s cup size by feeling her breasts. It’s worth asking: what is the point of the Murderdolls?

“Just to have some fun,” says Joey Jordison. The guitarist – for this group at least – sits in the upstairs lounge of his band’s tour bus. Adjacent to him is Wednesday. Before the tape recorder is switched on, a request is made that the whole band are questioned, but Joey, quietly, won’t allow it. Make of this what you will.

“I get all my angry shit out with Slipknot, so this is something else that I can do. And I have fun doing it. We may not be the most serious band in the world, but that doesn’t really matter. That doesn’t mean that this can’t mean something to me just the same.”

For a band that aren’t serious, by the way, Joey Jordison chose to meet this question in serious tones, and with some immediacy – ready with an answer, almost leaping in with his response.

Would you like your audience to be serious about liking you?

“Yeah, I suppose I would.”

Joey Jordison didn’t actually make an appearance today until 8pm, fearing that he’d contracted a fever after standing in the cole – straight after his band’s set – in Manchester for three hours signing CDs and body parts for his fans. Later in Bristol it would seem that this is no more than a chill, but his earlier absence means that his bandmates have to endure the mind-shrivelling tedium that is the afternoon before a show without him.

Wednesday and guitarist Acey Slade are upstairs in the Fleece’s dressing room, talking small and killing time. Wednesday is attempting to fit brown plastic holsters to his trousers, in which he can hold the blue plastic pistols that will spurt water into the crowd later tonight. Slade – the funniest and most impressive member of the band – is looking through photographs taken in Germany. He says the word “cool” a lot. Wednesday has a bastardised image of Colonel Sanders on the back of his jacket. Kentucky Fried Chicken is his favourite food, he says, with the humorous delivery of a serious sentiment. Although if he lived in England he would open a chain of fast food franchises called Kentucky Fried Fish And Chips.

Wednesday is from Louisiana (sic). Acey is from Pennsylvania.

But you’re based in Los Angeles, right?

“Fuck no,” says Wednesday.

I thought that’s where you all lived.

“We don’t really have a base,” says Slade.

Is that because you’re not a proper band?

“Fuck you,” says Wednesday.

The Murderdolls take this well. The Murderdolls, fittingly, know how to smile.

This is Joey Jordison’s band. He laughs and jokes along throughout the evening – and his humour and tolerance of a piss-taking journalist is more impressive than many – but, in subtle moments, his demeanour betrays a seriousness and focus that is hardly disguised. He is acutely aware of how he wishes to be portrayed although, strangely, he appears more concerned with visuals than words. He applies his make-up on three separate occasions for the photographs that partner this piece. The last time he has to do this, at 1am, he doesn’t appear overly thrilled. He has a quiet word with Roxy Erickson about what she can and can’t shoot (admirably, she opts not to fall in with the conspiracy).

In conversation, conversely, Jordison is almost slanderously unguarded. He wants to make it clear than our own Josh Sindell, in his review of the Murderdolls’ set at the Whisky A Go-Go, was wrong to say that Kerry King left early out of disdain, but rather had to leave for LAX airport. Then he says that while the other eight members of Slipknot were furious with K! Dep Ed Jason Arnopp for the things he wrote in his Slipknot book, this was only because they knew that what he wrote was “true”. He’ll also tell you about how he fucked-up his voice by mixing two different batches of cocaine together earlier in the tour. And how, on the road with Slipknot in America, he walked in to the Clown’s dressing room and emptied his bowels right into the rubbish bin. Right there in the room.

Why on Earth did you do that?

“Because he was fucking with me.”

Is there tension in Slipknot?

“No.”

But then he’ll say this. And he’ll say it with some joy and no disguise.

“We had more people at our gig (in Los Angeles) than Stone Sour did.”

Yeah, but Stone Sour are selling more records in America than you are.

Joey Jordison nods his head and curls his mouth into the thinnest, and cruellest, of smiles. Quietly he says, “At the moment”.

Are you sure there’s no tension in Slipknot?

“Yes.”

In the pub next door to the Fleece, there is something approaching mutiny. It’s 11:50pm, and the Murderdolls left the stage a quarter of an hour ago. Four men in their 40s are arguing about the merits – or otherwise – of the band. They all went to the show, but only half of them enjoyed it. You’ve got to move with the times, say the defenders. They weren’t even playing their instruments, say the detractors.

Listening to this is the landlord. He manages to be friendly despite glowing incandescent with fury. It was his glasses that were smashed by the band, and it was his wife who Wednesday instructed to go back inside so that “nobody would get hurt”.

The landlord also thinks the Murderdolls are the worst band ever to have performed next door. So furious he was with the incident, he confronted the Murderdolls’ tour manager and, threatening to summon the law, elicited an apology and £50 in compensation without hesitation or complaint.

Rock ‘n’ roll.

Just round the corner, the Murderdolls are milling in the street, signing autographs for the 200 people who have braved the chill and missed the last bus to talk to them. They will stay there for two hours. Then they will board the bus and, knowing nothing of the furore left behind them, sleep in their bunks and wake in another town. And there the Murderdolls will emerge to laugh and bullshit their way through another day.