#so yeah would be nice to have the option to filter it

[pilvimarja]

.

[baekuras]

Had a customer repeatedly accuse us as a store of not being cheaper than others etc etc so much so that right now I decided to sit down and look at the actual, non contractual prices they’d have to pay if they went elsewhere or to the actual producer of the glasses

His wife paid about 400bucks for very thin high quality material, anti reflective coating, clear coat, hard coat, drive-safe filter, uv-filter, the whole anti fat/oil filters etc etc on them....because that’s premium glasses

Anyhow for similar ones (not drive-safe filtering but general blue light filtering) she would otherwise have paid about 680bucks

Her husband argued that she also paid less than 300 at times for her glasses (mind you she had like -5dpt on both eyes, is very much used to such prices especially considering she likes bigger metal frames, and her eyesight worsened by about 1dpt on both sides as well over the years compared to the glasses he was referring to)-which I had also shown him (I think it was about 230 or smth for what she had before which were also very good glasses but thicker and I simply wanted to offer her an even better option if she was interested) Like yeah-of course she doesn’t have to pay like 400bucks or something But if she wants all of this, and considering she has bad eyes, then I can’t just throw out a price of like 90bucks overall and expect premium material the math doesn’t math in this case friend

[servicpop]

TOJI FUSHIGURO ⋆⋆⋆ msg series(?) pt.1

NSFW › toji has no filter and is just one big pervert

It was a Saturday evening and you were settled on the carpet of your living room with your hands propped against the coffee table. You had an array of different colored nail polish lined up as you stared at them, debating which one to wear today. You enjoyed nail polish — even though it was seen as 'too feminine,' you thought painting your nails was a calming activity to do after long days of work. As you sat crossed legged on the floor, Toji was lazily draped over the couch, watching you silently.

He didn't care at all that you wore nail polish, sometimes you'd even convince him to wear some himself but he always stuck to plain black. He noticed your little situation, observing the way your eyes scanned over the options and the cogs turn in your head. It really wasn't that hard he thought.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Toji questioned, his voice smooth but had a certain rasp to it from his nap 20 minutes ago. His voice catches your attention and you break away from your little trance, turning to face him, you explain your "crisis". It was an innocent question from him at first, until the corners of his scarred lips curled up and a shit-eating grin plastered on Toji's face.

"I have an idea," He starts slowly. You knew he was up to no good when he had that scheming smile, "Make your nails the color of my dick." You stare at him. You blink once, twice, maybe four times while you try and form a reply to that sentence.

"Huh?" Finally, a word comes out your mouth and you find yourself increasingly confused and pretty shocked the more you thought about it. Toji had no shame. "I don't– i don't have a color that matches..." Toji took some time to prop himself up with his elbows before pointing at one of your polishes.

"That pink one is pretty close," he pointed out, "Here, let's do a lil' color match yeah?" Before you could even react, Toji pushes himself off the couch and walks over to where you're sat, picking up the pink-ish nail polish and holding it in his palm. His other hand hooks the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls it down just enough. It was all so sudden, you weren't ready to be flashed! Its not like you haven't seen his body before, more like it still made you nervous seeing it. Heat spread through your cheeks and your head immediately turned to the side, a hand flew up to shield your poor eyes from Toji's shameless display.

"Pretty close," Toji scoffed with a smile. His eyebrows raised when he saw you shielding your eyes and he placed down the nail polish before turning to you, "Don't act like you haven't seen it plenty of times before," He laughed, letting his waistband snap back into place before curling his arms around your waist, picking you up with ease. He lifted you as if you were a stray kitten, moving to gently bend you over the coffee table, using his body weight to hold you flush against the glass.

"I think that color matches your skin real well doll," His voice dropped an octave and became more heavier and sultry. As he kept you pinned between his body and the table, he took this chance to pull off his sweatpants and slide yours off as well. "You can't see but—" He tapped his cock against the curve of your ass, observing how the color of his tip contrasted nicely with your skin, "—it's perfect." His large hand went to grab the flesh of your cheek, spreading it apart so he could see your cute hole all eager for him. Seemed like your body wasn't as pure as you were. He wasn't going to bother fishing for lube so he leaned back and spat a glob over your entrance, using his tip to shallowly smear it across your hole.

He pushed in slowly, groaning as he felt warmth surround his dick. He loved the way you felt. Loved the way your walls would give his cock a warm welcome and a tight hug. His hands — that were placed on your hips — moved to underneath your shirt, feeling your soft, supple skin under his calloused fingers. His fingers kept groping at your skin, tugging at the places were you had a little more plush than others before moving to cup your chest, ghosting over your now hard nipples. You couldn't help but whimper at that, the way his fingers so gently tickled your chest like that had you squirming and Toji for sure noticed it.

"You're cute, you know that?" He breathed in softly, taking in the scent of your shampoo as he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hands still touching and caressing your torso. "Makes me wanna bite you," Toji growled against your shoulder, grazing his teeth along your skin but never actually sinking them into you, "But you're too pretty for that, seeing as the way you wanna doll yourself up all the time, bet you'd be mad if I leave an ugly mark hm?" His tone was so degrading it almost offended you but that feeling of offense was soon ignored once Toji pulled out and slammed back into you.

His dick rubbed against your prostate everytime he thrusted; at this point it was bullying with the way his cock aimed for your weak spots over and over again. The table creaked underneath your combined weight and the nail polishes on the desk rattled, threatening to fall over. Small strings of moans and mewls let your mouth as Toji kept pounding into you with his hands toying with your sensitive nipples. The stimulation was too much, you felt yourself try and wriggle out of his grasp, attempting to regain a little bit of your composure, but Toji just kept you pressed against the table and his fingers pinched at your buds.

"You can take it, I know you can. I've done worse to you," Toji hummed in your ear, you could practically feel the bass of his voice tickle your brain. He really was your weakness. He was being arguably nice to you right now. Toji really did have a thing for overstimulation and he loved seeing your brain go numb from all the pleasure he gives you.

You find yourself leaking, dripping pre onto your pants that pooled at your knees — luckily it didn't get on the carpet, that would be a pain to clean — and your eyes were rolling back, something you did when you were about to cum. You could tell Toji was too, his groans got louder and his cock pulsed inside you, waiting to spill. "Just a little more yeah?" He cooed, trailing his hands up to your collarbones and then to your neck, squeezing your adam's apple gently. Having your neck cradled like this made you feel somewhat vulnerable, especially considering how strong Toji was, but that was what made it all the more pleasurable, knowing that you were safe with Toji.

His cock grinded against your prostate once more and it sent you off the edge, a high whine left your throat as your toes curled and white spurted all over your pants. "Attaboy," He grumbled into your ear before thrusting into you one more time, groaning as he held your waist close to his body, making sure you took all of it.

Toji fully relaxed ontop of you, making you groan in protest from his crushing weight. "Y'know I heard that the best lipstick color is the colour of your nipple, maybe you should do that with your nails." He lifted you off the table, allowing you to look down at yourself but you slapped his hand away before he did anything stupid.

a/n : short little toji fic i wanted to write + some tests with layout, i also wrote this all in one day so its probably not that good TT

[handwrittenhello]

"Dad?" Kira's voice filtered through the mindless haze of Edgin's cursing as he weeded the garden.

"Yeah, hon?" he replied distractedly. The mint was starting to take over, and while its leaves made a nice tea, there was only so much they could harvest at a time. He tried to calculate how much he could rip out without going overboard.

"I want to be a rogue."

Edgin's hands stilled on a clump of roots. He stared at the dirt underneath his fingernails. "Okay," he finally said, hearing himself from a distance.

"What?"

"Okay," he repeated. Thoughts surfaced one after another in his mind. He didn't put words to any of them. You're too young. We don't have to steal to get by anymore. I'm a horrible influence. Your mom would hate me.

"I thought..." She trailed off. "You're not mad?"

Edgin finally looked up. She stood just outside the garden, hovering behind the gate as if to keep a barrier between them. Her hands twisted in the fabric of her dress. It was getting short on her—she'd grown recently.

"Do you want me to be?" he asked mildly. "I don't know what you want me to say, honey." He couldn't say what he actually thought. He'd promised honesty, but...

"It's just... Uncle Forge..." Even now, she still called him that, and Edgin winced every time. A habit of two years was going to be hard to break.

Or, as his mind liked to remind him late at night when he should be sleeping, maybe she didn't want to break it. Maybe she wished he were her dad instead. What good was Edgin, failure of a man, compared to a life in Neverwinter Castle? A life she could never go back to, once he'd come along and stirred up a bunch of shit.

"What about him?" Edgin asked, turning back to the vegetables. As he pulled up carrots he imagined it was Forge's guts he was pulling out.

"I'm not doing it to be like him," she said in a rush. "I don't want to be like him."

Ha, Edgin thought savagely. Shaped in your image my ASS. "Well, good, because he's rotting in prison."

"That's not what I mean!" she said, but she was hiding a smile. "I just meant, I'm not following anyone. It's what I want to do."

"Well, you don't need my permission." As much as he hated it, he'd missed two years of her life; she was nearly grown, now. Another year or so and she'd be old enough to take on an apprenticeship, even though it seemed like yesterday he could fit her tiny swaddled body in the crook of one arm.

"You don't like it." She'd caught him out, and he froze.

Then he brushed the dirt from his hands and stood, his knees cracking loudly in protest. Gods, he was so old. To prove to himself he still could, he hopped over the fence to join her outside the garden.

"You're right, I don't like it. I don't like that you grew up while I wasn't there to see. I don't like that we never had the option of an honest living. I don't like that your mom would hate me for doing this to you." He reached out and pulled her into a hug. "But I like you, no matter what. If you think that becoming a rogue is what's right for you, then do it. Don't ever change yourself just because you think someone will love you better for it."

"That's so sappy," she said, but her face was buried in his shirt and he knew she was hiding tears.

"I'm a bard. It comes with the job description."

"Good thing I'm not becoming a bard then." He broke the hug and pushed her away in mock disgust as she laughed.

"I take it all back, you're a disgrace of a daughter. I'm sending you to bardic college until you learn some respect."

She laughed again, a beautiful sound. He vowed, not for the first time, to do everything in his power to make sure she never stopped.

[chilewithcarnage]

I, a very white and somewhat privileged person, am absolutely terrified to draw colored people. Because I don’t know if I’d cross the thin line of tasteful and authentic or racist and stereotypical…

Lol for starters don't refer to us as coloured people. This ain't 1955. Secondly my best advice to you is to use references of actual people of color. I would highly recommend staying away from those white men art station youtuber type artists for tutorials because they get a majority of their techniques and style from main stream video games and comic books, which to put it nicely don't have the best reputation for representing women and poc. tangent over, so yeah references. real life photographs of brown and black people.

pinterest is a site that a lot of current, especially younger artists like to use, but in all honesty it's not a very good source for someone trying to learn the fundamentals. it'll mainly show you 20 something year old ig and twitter models which is okay if you wanna just draw pretty people; but not the best if you wanna like I said learn fundamentals + have a portfolio that's varied. also it's rife with ai shit and stolen art, so yeah would only recommend that as an initial starting point/using it to make your own personal board for your saved images.

stock photo sites are my go to for refs. getty images, istock, alamy, etc. a simple right click save image or screenshot will work to get the images you want for free. of course there will be the watermarks, but they're honestly a very small issue to bypass. as long as they're not opaque and nearly covering the entire subject; you're good. a nice thing about stock photo sites is they usually give you the option to filter the image search results. say for instance you want to draw an elderly asian woman cooking or a young black man painting a picture or an indigenous child playing with dolls. you can look up certain terms you want in the search bar & specify gender, age and ethnicity to narrow down your search to what you want.

another awesome place for references i discovered during college is posespace.com

like with getty images, it gives you the option to filter your searches. they also have their models in clothed or nude shoots in the event that you want to practice some bare bones anatomy.

also also, get your info from artists of color. there's a decent amount of tutorials ive found over the years on here and youtube on coloring skintones, drawing certain hair types, how to avoid caricatures and stereotyping, different facial features, cultural hairstyles. the list goes on. don't be afraid to depict people outside of your race. literally just go about drawing us the same way you would a white person. don't be scared, as long as you remain respectful and make an honest effort to learn; you'll do fine.

resource links by and from artists of color:

'how i draw south + southeast asian people'

an example of what to avoid when stylizing east asian characters

'drawing asian people, source: i'm asian'

'lessons from drawing I: what is asian anyways?'

'how to draw indians'

'how to draw arabs'

'How I draw skin Part 2: DON”T DRAW NATIVE PEOPLE WITH RED SKIN!!!! A tutorial' (the link to the first part of this tutorial is broken sorry)

How to Draw Native People: a Tutorial/Reference Guide

How to Draw Black People by peachdeluxe

tips for drawing black people by rosheruu

drawing east asian faces by chuwenjie

how to draw black people series by Artistik Freedom (youtube)

✏️How I draw black hairstyles (simple) 🌱 by Likelihood Art (youtube)

there's also a bunch of black and brown artists on twitter and tiktok, so checking those sites for tutorials would be a good additional resource

good luck on your illustrating melanin endeavors 👍🏾

[alezangona]

The Shadow of Khansar (Salaar Fic)

Part 5 - Declaration of Faith

Part 4 | Part 6

“Stop it.” Varadha refuses to look at Deva, forcing his attention to stay on the road ahead, even when his eyes strain to catch a glimpse of the man beside him.

“I’m not doing anything.” Deva responds, hand wrapped leisurely around the steering wheel.

“I can feel the smugness radiating off of you in waves. So, stop it.” Varadha rubs consciously at the gray scarf wrapped around his neck, still feeling the remnants of mortification from earlier in the day. “You’re the reason that Baachi has been pestering me all morning. The least you could do is be a little apologetic.”

“Mmm, not a big fan of lying” Deva laughs and Varadha can’t help but to turn his face towards him at the sound. He radiates an aura of serenity this morning, dressed in a worn, olive green shirt that is unbuttoned just enough to showcase his strong, athletic form. The strands of his hair, still wet from his shower, are splayed in different directions looking unbelievably soft as they flow in the morning breeze. An inexplicable urge to touch Deva rushes through Varadha, and so he finds himself leaning back and wrapping his arm across the backseat, lifting his fingers up just enough to playfully tug at the locks of hair located at the nape of his neck. Deva’s eyes close for a quick moment as he relishes the feeling before concentrating on the road once more. “It’s funny you’re pointing fingers when you don’t seem to be sorry either.”

“I’m more so annoyed at my brother’s antics,” He observes the black, leather string that rests against Deva’s neck, and follows the line of it down to the pendant that rests against his sternum. If he focuses hard enough, he can just make out the light red marks freckled against his sun-kissed skin. Satisfaction overtakes him as he examines his claiming bites on Deva’s body and he itches to be that close to him again. To explore and re-explore every inch of his body, to know what it is that makes him tick, to know what all he could do to push him over the edge. “But honestly I had a little too much fun last night. Denying that wouldn’t be fair of me now, would it?”

“Yeah?” Deva swallows, shifting slightly in his seat.

“Mhm. I’m glad you’re back Deva.” Varadha moves his hand down Deva’s arm, intertwining their fingers before resting them on his thigh. “Thank you for choosing to come back… for choosing me.”

~*~

“Varadha Rajamannar!” Mahit saunters into the room, a welcoming grin on his face. “And Devaratha! Don’t you two look nice today.”

“Long time no see,” Varadha mutters dryly as he takes a seat in his favorite armchair positioned next to the window overlooking Mahit’s elaborate garden. Mahit signals his footman with a flick of his chin and within seconds, a hot cup of filter coffee is placed in front of Varadha.

“What would you like to have?” Mahit gestures to Deva to sit down. “The filter coffee made by Rudramma is a popular delicacy in Khansar. It’s what I’d recommend. So would Varadha, it’s his personal favorite, you see. Of course we have other options, tea, soda, rum?”

Deva doesn’t speak, instead choosing to stand behind Varadha’s chair, arms crossing over his chest as he shakes his head.

“Very well, then.” Mahit shrugs, settling into the chair across from Varadha. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

“You understand our chances of winning the throne are slim to none right?” Varadha questions once the footmen clear the room.

“Are you trying to talk me out of helping you?” Mahit tilts his head, clearly surprised by the direction this conversation was taking.

“I don’t understand why you want to side with me in this conflict. All of Khansar is fighting for the throne and the rest of the doralu, the kaparlu even, have more resources than I do. Don’t get me wrong, I want to win Mahit. I’m sick of fighting for scraps when everyone else is feasting like kings.” Varadha leans forward, arms resting on his thighs as he intensifies his gaze. “But I am realistic enough to acknowledge that at the end of this all, if any of the others win, everyone else will be alright. They’ll reform alliances and continue just the way they do now. That same courtesy will not be extended to me or mine. Even now, you’re in danger if my father were to find out that you are plotting against the crown.”

“You think I haven’t considered all of this?” Mahit narrows his eyes, meeting Varadha’s gaze head on. “Please, I’m the Chief of Defense Staff. The youngest one in Khansar’s history at that. I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“It would be wiser for you to side with anyone else, or for that matter, not side with anyone at all and wait out this battle. You could get out of this entire thing without a scratch, Mahit. You do know that?” He implores once more, a hint of worry making way to the forefront. Mahit stays quiet and studies Varadha. He pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a quick drag as he stands before letting out a puff of smoke.

“Here,” He hands it over to Varadha, seating himself on the armrest and leaning into his space. “I know it’s been a couple years since we’ve been honest with each other, so let me rectify that. Frankly, your dad’s rule has been shit.” Varadha chokes around the cigarette, thrown by the sudden comment.

“What?”

“Don’t look so surprised. It’s nothing we haven’t complained about since we were kids. The doralu and kaparlu run amok, not caring for their citizens or the kingdom. There’s barely any unity between them, all their time spent on petty rivalries. Poverty and crime rates have increased over the years. There aren’t enough jobs or opportunities available despite the booming economy. We don’t have any international allies in a globalized world because your father is under the delusion that self-reliance is enough to hold us over. The only thing your father bothered to invest in over the years has been the military Varadha. Need I go on?

“I understand that we’ve grown apart over the years, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I know you and you know me. There’s more to a leader than sitting in a position of power. In a kingdom such as ours, we need someone with a vision who cares for the people, not the authority he can wield over them. Despite everything, I believe that to be you. There is no one else I would rather put my faith in. And you know me,” A mischievous smile makes its way onto his face. “I’d rather go down fighting the good fight than work under incompetent leadership for the rest of my life.”

“Mahi…” Varadha looks up at him, overcome by the conviction in his voice. Mahit smiles down at him fondly, snatching the cigarette back and crushing it in the ashtray.

“Of course, in the spirit of honesty, your friend here is also a reason for my leap of faith. Not all of my allies were willing to side with you till he came into the picture. The sheer power he possesses? It’s enough to give them hope.” His grin sharpens as he flicks his gaze to Deva, his eyes drinking in the image of him. “Ae maataki aa maata kani, vajrayudhame ra.”

“That’s enough of that,” Varadha rolls his eyes, standing up and blocking Mahit’s view of Deva.

“What’s the harm in a little flirting,” Mahit pouts. “Deva doesn’t seem to mind.” Both men snap their gaze to the man in question, who reacts by looking away as he shifts his position slightly.

“Leave him alone Mahi.” Varadha emphasizes sharply. Then he softens, stepping forward to wrap his arms around him into a tight hug. “Thank you for all of this. I don’t think there’s anything I could ever do to repay you.”

“Well, never say never.” Mahit’s arms clasp harder around him. “Once you win, you’ll need an advisor or two on hand to oversee the policy implementations. Keep me in mind when we get to that stage, eh?”

~*~

“Well?” Baba asks when they arrive home for lunch. Varadha flips his plate over letting Satti serve him. He digs into the meal immediately, the events of the day finally catching up to him.

“Satti, godu karam edhi ra?” He turns to Deva when Satti disappears from the room. “Lekkalenanni sarlu vadiki chepa, karam saripokapithe nuvvu thinavani. Ayina marchipothu untadu.”

“So I was right then?”

“Do I have to verbalize it?”

“I’d appreciate it if you did.”

“You were right. I still think he’s insane for wanting to fight on our side, but I’m grateful too. We’ll need all the help we can get after all.”

Bilal interjects, tapping a bone against his plate to draw out the flavor. “Rhinda’s contact discovered that Vaali ordered a shipment of weapons earlier this month, just enough arms to fill the eastern Shirawa warehouses. His men are planning to shift them to different locations tonight, most likely to bunkers located in the other Ghaniyaar territories. If we can get our hands on even one of the shipments…”

“Do you know the shipment schedule?” Baachi asks and Bilal nods.

“Rhinda revised the itemized lists, schedules, and routes to see which vehicle we could best use our resources to capture. All the trucks will be heavily guarded, but one of the shipments will be traveling from Shirawa through the outskirts of Gonda. If we can hit them at the right moment, we can transport the weapons to our bunker without being caught. Vaali won’t suspect that it’s us and even if he does, it’ll be a waste of his resources to scour for a singular shipment.”

“Bilal and I are ready to handle it ourselves. If we keep the team small, we should be more efficient than if we took more men this last minute.” Rhinda beckons towards Deva. “Him excluded. The three of us should be more than enough.”

Varadha nods, pushing his plate to the center of the table as he finishes his meal. “Fine. You three handle that and take whatever you need from the armory. If anything starts to go awry, you retreat, do you hear me?”

~*~

“You don’t talk much do you?” Bilal looks back at Deva through the rearview mirror.

“Rey,” Rhinda objects looking mortified. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not? It’s true!” Deva shrugs in the back.

“I just don’t think I have much to say.”

“That can’t be true. I’ve listened in on enough of your conversations with Varadha to know that you’re quite the talker when you want to be.”

“That- that’s different.” Deva runs a hand through his hair, looking away.

“Yeah, I bet.” Bilal teases, the implication clear.

“Pull over to that side, you can park inside the shed.” Rhinda cuts in, trying to save Deva from Bilal’s invasive comments.

“Where does Rihaan find all of these locations for us to use?” Bilal asks, lips shaping into a frown as they step out of the car into the spacious shed. In front of them stands an abandoned house, its crumbling facade noticeable despite the inky night sky above them. He hears the trunk open from behind and then a sleek sniper is handed to him.

“Most buildings on this side of town have been abandoned since the forest fires last year. A few people moved deeper into the city. Most people couldn’t afford to do that, or to fix up their homes, so they’ve shifted to the eastern territories.” Rhinda informs them as he adjusts his weapons.

“What was the Kapari doing? Twiddling his thumbs?” Deva closes the trunk, brows drawn together.

“Please,” Rhinda scoffs. “He’s tearing down whatever foundations are left over and selling the land to the highest bidder. Last I heard, their goal is to convert this place into a resort city.”

“Yeah, yeah. We can discuss city and regional planning later. For now, it’s time to take up positions.” Bilal leads the way to the winding road, keeping an eye out for any movement. “We only have one chance at this, and I’d prefer it if we didn’t mess it up.”

~*~

“Shit, shit, shit!” Bilal speeds through the road, taking a sharp left as the vehicle’s headlights make their way closer to the truck. “Vaali couldn’t have possibly found out about our plan!” Rhinda holds onto the dashboard, desperately trying to stay in place despite the questionable driving skills of his friend.

“Trust me, there’s no way Vaali knew. If anything, Urmila must have slipped the information she gave us to another contact.” Rhinda grits his teeth as he studies the side mirror. The headlights that were approaching rapidly behind them seemed to have slowed to a halt. “I think- I think Deva’s handling them.”

“Should we go back to help him?” Bilal glances towards him, concerned.

“Are you kidding? He can handle himself just fine. He’ll meet us back at Pathran once this is over. Let’s just get this shipment to the bunker before anything else goes wrong.”

~*~

Bilal yawns loudly as he steps out of the jeep, not bothering to wait for Rhinda as he makes his way up the stairs of the mansion. All he can think about is how much he needs a hot shower to wash the grime off of his body and a warm bed to fall into as a reprieve from the fog surrounding his brain.

“What took you so long?” Through sleep deprived eyes, Bilal can make out the blurry shape of Varadha approaching him with purposeful strides. He rubs his eyes, holding back another yawn.

“We camped out at the bunker last night. We figured we might as well log all the weapons into the system while we were there.” Varadha nods, looking over his shoulder as Rhinda approaches.

“Where’s Deva?” Varadha focuses on the entrance, waiting for the man to approach. 

“He isn’t back yet?” Rhinda asks wearily.

“No, he isn’t.” Varadha takes a step closer, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Why isn’t he with you?”

“We got separated last night when a vehicle we didn’t account for started following us. Deva said he could handle it on his own and told us to head to the bunker. So, we did. He told us he’d meet us back here. I–”

Varadha inhales sharply, his body winding up tightly, suddenly on high alert. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he paces across the length of the hall, cursing under his breath.

“Bilal! Tell Rihaan to start the search for Deva”

“But, Dora. It’s still early in the day, maybe he’s on his way back.”

“No. No he would’ve been back here by now. It’s been hours Bilal. I was fine waiting when I thought he was with you, but if he’s been separated… I’m not going to take any chances. Not when I need him back here. So, go. Go!” Varadha hisses and Bilal hurries out of the room, silently thanking Kateramma for gifting him with a strong sense of self preservation that prevented him from asking any more questions.

[aropride]

small talk is as uncomfortable for me as it is for the next guy but i think there's a lot of value in understanding it- maybe not the actual conversations themselves, and not even liking it, but understanding the intent. because allistics don't go into small talk with a mindset of "man i HATE this guy i want to make them SUFFER by asking about their WEEKEND." most of the time it comes from a place of either obligation or of kindness. and also to be clear, i know this varies culturally, so disclaimer- this is probably very influenced by being a high-masking (with dubious success) autistic american.

but i prefer to think of small talk as an act of kindness rather than a painful obligation. it's used to fill silence (generally seen as awkward) or to invite someone into a conversation if they're alone (meant to be friendly). when i was in middle school i was in a youth group (awful) that met for two hours once a week. the first half hour was designated hanging out time while people filtered in, and then we'd go into games, then church stuff and then a discussion. and during the first half hour i'd always end up standing in a corner alone, usually by the snacks so i'd have something to do.

and every week without fail people would come up to me and try to talk to me. both small group leaders and other middle/high school kids. and being a severely anxious undiagnosed autistic kid this would terrify me and piss me off because i didn't understand why they were doing it. because it felt like an imposition- yeah, i was lonely and wanted to talk to people, but i didn't necessarily want to talk to anyone specific, and it felt like they were being condescending or pitying, and i wanted to be left alone.

but to an allistic person, what i was interpreting as condescension and being put into an uncomfortable conversation, was to them a gesture of kindness. because most allistic people as far as i know wouldn't want to have to stand in the corner eating oreos every week they were forced to go to youth group. and they had no way of knowing that was my preferred option.

so we would have conversations that went something like this:

person i don't know: hi i'm jess, what's your name me (scared): hi i'm nik jess: nice to meet you nik! me (still scared): nice to meet you too (beat of awkward silence) jess (helpfully filling the silence): what grade are you in? me (realizing i have an oreo in my hand and wanting to eat it but i can't because i'm stuck in this conversation that feels like being put in a meat grinder): 6th 👍 jess: nice! whats your favourite subject? me (deeply aware of the oreo in my hand, aware that i am doing this wrong but not sure how, painfully aware of the unnecessarily loud music playing): english jess: fun! do you like reading?

And so on and so forth. it was uncomfortable for everyone involved and i could not figure out why they were asking me questions when they presumably didn't care and i didn't want to be there. and the first thing i was missing was that while they might not have cared about me as a person yet, that's what the small talk was for! so they'd get to know me more and then care what i had to say, or know that they wanted to talk to me more, etc. and the second thing i was missing was that while to me this whole ritual was sort of like being in hell being tormented by eternal hellfire, for everyone else this was normal and polite and most people would, while not enjoying the small talk itself, enjoy the thought behind it. what it's really communicating isn't a fascination with your thoughts about your classes but a "i saw you looked lonely, i have no negative feelings towards you, i'm offering my companionship and figuring out if we might be friends, as well as assuaging your discomfort with being alone"

basically it's a social script. and it's one that can be clunky and awkward (there are many memes on the topic) but that doesn't really matter to most people because the intent outweighs the execution. the words actually being said don't always even matter- "how are you?" "fine, thanks" type exchanges aren't really meant to communicate anything verbally- it's a nonverbal confirmation that you have a positive relationship with someone. which is why autistic people are often seen as rude for not engaging in it.

this is getting insanely long sorry it's just on my mind because i saw a post on instagram about how autistic people don't like small talk because it's inauthentic, and i don't think that's really true. i think that small talk can be authentic, and i think that autistic people don't like small talk because it's deeply uncomfortable for a lot of us. it's a helpful social script to understand conceptually, even if it sucks

[terramous]

scared to live, scared to die

pairing: tk strand/carlos reyes title: noah kahan - northern attitude word count: 2.2k bad things happen bingo: therapy session AO3

Carlos fidgets in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his legs, wiping the sweat from his palms on the denim of his jeans. He feels like he’s on trial. 

“So, Carlos, how have you been since our last appointment?” 

“Good,” he says, a little too quickly. He presses his palms together as if he were praying and sandwiches them between his thighs. His therapist is nice enough but he’s never sure of what to say when it comes to the questions Candice asks. It’s as if there’s a right answer to everything and as Carlos throws a dart–aiming for right–and it falls into the trash can underneath the dart board. 

“Tell me more about ‘good’.”

Fuck. That was not the correct answer. Once again, the dart hits home in a scrunched up ball of paper. 

“There’s nothing really to say,” he says. “It’s been okay, not good or bad.” 

“And your sleep? Are you still having nightmares?”

Carlos shakes his head, prepared to lie, before changing his mind and nodding. “Yeah.” 

Last night was one of the worst. It was the same sensation of drowning but the water was thick like molasses and every movement he made to bring himself closer to the surface, closer to finally being able to take a breath, served only to sink him even further. He’d woken up breathing hard and TK woke up not long after, running a hand in circles between his shoulder blades until he could finally breathe again. 

He doesn’t know what he would do without TK. These horrors that seem unbearable were made less so by the presence of his fiancé, he always had someone to lean on and that made all the difference. He couldn’t have faced this alone, couldn’t have spent the sleepless nights with only the shadows for company, couldn’t have done it without someone stronger than him by his side. 

“You previously mentioned the theme of drowning. Is it much the same?” 

Again, he nods. 

“And how many hours do you think you’re getting per night?” 

He does the math in his head. He went to bed at 10:30pm but he lay awake listening to TK’s soft snoring until the alarm clock at his side of the bed read 12:07am and again, when he woke up from his nightmare it was 5:24am. He couldn’t get back to sleep after that, so he read the news on his phone (as if he needed more things to be depressed about) and got an early start to his day. He made pancakes for breakfast which TK accepted gratefully with a kiss on the cheek. 

TK had stopped asking how much sleep Carlos was getting, they both knew that it was too little but he had gently urged Carlos to try and nap after his therapy appointment. It was easier for Carlos to sleep when it was daytime, sunlight filtering through the loft and casting glow to the dust particles that hung in the air. 

“About five and a half hours,” Carlos answers after careful deliberation. 

Candice sucks her teeth and scribbles something down on her notepad. “That’s not ideal. Do you want to work on some strategies we can take to help you get more sleep?” 

With a sigh, Carlos pulls himself up by the bootstraps and makes eye contact with Candice for the first time in this whole session. Her eyes are glacial. “Actually, I was wondering if there was any medication I could try for it?” 

“Certainly. There’s a few different options and different medications will do different things. Whether you need something to help you get to sleep or something to help you stay asleep. I’ll email your care coordinator after our session and get her to reach out to you about scheduling a psychiatrist appointment.”

Psychiatrist. What a scary word. 

Carlos has been to see a few psychiatrists in his life. He remembers a nice psychiatrist from when he was young. He was eight and her name was Nicole. She worked with him and his parents to diagnose him with autism. She was nice. 

He’d seen two psychiatrists in the past couple of weeks since the kidnapping. The first was the one involved with the crisis team which TK had dragged him to go and see. And after five hours sitting in the hospital waiting room, he finally got to see them and tell them everything that had been going on. The sleepless nights and terrors and the lingering fear that followed him wherever he went. Dr Cooper was his name, he wasn’t very helpful in the grand scheme of things but he did prescribe Carlos antidepressants to hopefully alleviate some of his symptoms, for now it was still too early to tell. 

Dr Reese was the other psychiatrist, the one that he saw two weeks ago to check in and see how the meds were going for him. She increased his antidepressants and gave him helpful pamphlets about PTSD and a bunch of cards with different hotlines he could call, including one he could text. 1737. He would have to remember that. 

If it were up to him, he would like to go back and see Dr Reese but he knew that likely wasn’t going to be the case. The demand for psychiatrists far outweighed the amount available so it would be a few weeks wait at the least before he got in to see anyone. 

“That would be great, thank you,” Carlos said, flashing her a careful smile. 

Candice adjusts her position, crossing her left ankle over her right and clicking her pen. The sound grated on Carlos’ nerves like he was a christmas tree strung up with lights. The constant hum of something overwhelming him. God, this hour could not go fast enough. 

Eventually the hour does go by fast, when Candice starts unpacking his trauma with him and he feels like he’s going to start dramatically weeping but holds it together so much that the only indication that he feels anything is that his hands won’t stop shaking. But he maintains his composure despite the fact that even he can tell that his voice is flat and lifeless as he just gives his therapist the most basic answers to her questions. 

“Today’s session has been kind of full-on, make sure to take it easy on yourself and do something you enjoy to emotionally regulate,” Candice says as she hands him a card with his next appointment time on it. Next Monday, 1pm. 

Carlos takes the card and tucks it in his wallet, in front of his debit card that he will need to pay for hospital parking. $2 for an hour, you have got to be joking. 

His next stop is the pharmacy. He stands in line with his hands in the pockets of TK’s borrowed hoodie and listens to the terrible radio as it is the only sound in the entire building aside from the squeaking of shoes on linoleum and the scratch of pens on paper. The current song playing is something he knows is Taylor Swift but he tries to think of anything else to distract himself. 

In his mind he runs over the process of getting his prescription. He will take one of the cards off the counter when the man in front of him moves up in the line and he will write down his name, phone number, and address, and then he will hand it to the pharmacist and she will give him his antidepressants. Paroxetine, 20mg. Hopefully increasing it means that it will start to help because Carlos is at his wit’s end. 

He has to go to the pharmacy twenty minutes away from the loft because the closest one was the one that Darryl used to work at and he refused to ever step foot in that place. He didn’t understand how he could have gotten away with stealing morphine for so long to kill vulnerable women. It’s a hassle but he does it anyway, it makes him feel better. 

The man in front of him steps further up the line. 

Carlos grabs the card he’s had his eyes glued to for the past three minutes and starts filling out his details. He’s completely zoned out from his surroundings until he hears it. Her voice. 

The same voice that talked to him sweetly and crooned over his love for TK as she force-fed him cookies and hit him over the head with a shovel and injected him with a lethal amount of morphine. The woman who feigned empathy for him while keeping him zip tied up in her kitchen. 

He can still feel the cool blade of the knife up against his throat. 

He snaps to attention, pen and card forgotten. 

“Have a nice day, lovely,” she says. 

It’s as if all the oxygen in the building has ceased to exist, Carlos tries to breathe it in but his lungs just get heavier and heavier. He needs to get out of here, preferably without her seeing him. 

Carefully, Carlos sets down the pen, trying not to make a sound. There’s a slight rattle as the chain on the pen shifts but the card is silent as he slides it into his pocket. 

He presses a hand over his heart and he can feel it hammering away.

Out. 

He needs to get out. 

Ignoring everyone else in the line, Carlos turns and stalks out, mission abandoned. His senses are going haywire, brain on the fritz as he tries to escape. He feels like a caged animal clawing at the bars and lunging at caretakers. 

Carlos just keeps pressing on his chest, as if the pressure would make it easier to breathe.

The cold air stings his face as he steps outside sans his prescription. He pulls his phone from his pocket and quickly presses on TK’s contact info, holding the phone up to his ear. 

Pick up. Please, pick up. 

TK picks up on the third ring with a breathless “hey.”

Carlos’ breath hitches as tears burn in his eyes, distorting his vision. He can’t get any words out. 

“What’s up?” TK asks, his voice softer. 

“TK.” His voice is strained, sharp and wrought with emotion. 

“What’s going on, are you okay?” 

“I saw her.” 

He can hear some shuffling on the other end, maybe TK doing dishes or playing foosball, either way he was interrupting something with his call and that fact alone just made him feel so guilty.  

“Saw who, babe?” TK sounds confused but worried. It’s a tone Carlos had seen often in the past few weeks, he’d taken the kidnapping really rough and TK was his rock through all of it. When he was struggling all he needed was his fiancé. 

“Trudy.” 

“Where are you? I thought you had therapy.” 

“I did,” Carlos says. “I’m at the pharmacy.” 

“You didn’t see her, babe. She’s in jail, where she belongs.”

“I can still feel her.” 

“I know, baby. Do you need me to come?” 

“No.” The tears start falling. Carlos wanders down the side of the building, hastily wiping at his eyes with his free hand. They’re hot on his cheeks, a stark contrast to the bitter chill in the air. But Carlos just feels too hot, like he’s burning up a fever. “No, you have to work.” 

“I can skive off, no worries.” 

“No, don’t worry about it. I feel better already, I think I’m just going to sit in my car for a bit and try again.” 

“Okay, if you say so. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?” 

“Yes please,” Carlos says, his voice breaking. He turns on his heel and marches back up towards the front doors but passess them, his eyes locked on his blue camaro. 

He doesn’t mind if people stare at him, crying outside the pharmacy on a monday afternoon, honestly he doesn’t even care if anyone sees him right now. He has a mission: get to his car and then he’s safe. 

When he opens the door, he all but flings himself into the driver’s seat. It still smells like incense from TK’s attempt at cleansing the bad vibes left by his car being dumped while he was kidnapped. Carlos worried that the leather would always smell of the inside of a crystal store. 

“How are you doing?” TK asks. 

“Better. I’m in the car.” 

Over the phone, Carlos can almost see TK’s shoulders lose their tense posture. “That’s good.” 

“Thank you.” Carlos wipes the remnants of his tears off of his face with the sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing. It is TK’s. Purple with orange bleach marks everywhere, the wet patch left by his tears looks like it is an intentional part of the design. 

“I’ll always be here if you need me. Always.”

“How did I get so lucky?” 

“Hey, you’ve dealt with me being a disaster on more than one occasion. I think you’re allowed a moment in the pharmacy.”

“It’s not my best moment.” 

“That doesn’t matter,” TK says. “‘Til death do us part.”

Carlos barks out a harsh half-laugh that kind of sounds like he’s being strangled. “We’re not even married yet.” 

“But we will be, I’m counting down the days.” 

“I’m going to go get my meds now,” Carlos says. “Thank you for staying on the phone with me.” 

“Anything you need, I’m here.” 

Carlos pulled the latch on the inside of his car and pushed the door open, allowing the cold air to rush into the warmer atmosphere of the car. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

[modx-reborn]

Kinktober day 13: Pet Play with Phantombur

You probably think this is master and pet kinda deal yeah? But what if I told you it wasn't.

It's a little short but enjoy!

MINORS DNI!

You had been on your best behaviour all week and your master had been very content to let you be, even going as far as promising you a treat in the form of a surprise if you continued to behave well. There were endless options for said treat, maybe a new collar? A new toy or two? Perhaps even a little indulgence of yours? So many choices, so many possibilities for you to enjoy but for now you had to keep being good, keep sitting pretty when asked and keep doing as told. 

Mind you as the end of the week drew closer and closer it was harder than ever to keep listening, to keep your hands to yourself, to wait out the last few hours till your surprise would be given to you. 

It had been a hard week of waiting, behaving and not prodding with questions as they left for the day smiling and kissing you with a 'be good' before they left, sure they slept next to you every night and they made sure you were collared and happy but the lack of attention and the looming surprise had you pouty and needy for the week to end. 

The message that filters through your com is simple, clear and familiar, a request to have the main area cleared and ready for 'play', which means pushing the couches back, moving the coffee table and unrolling a second mat to keep the carpet clean. It's easy work and it's a rhythm that helps settle your nerves, stripping down and making sure there was room to stretch and roll as needed, it was comfortable to lay bare in all but your collar once again. 

It had been a very long week and you were a very good pet. 

So what were you to do when your partner, your owner, the person you let collar you waltzes through the door with another person, a deep blue collar wrapped around their neck and a loose sweater you knew was theirs drapped across their body. You had heard the words, and had the discussion so very long ago about him getting a playmate for you, another et to play with you, a prized pet for their prized pet. 

And now it was happening, the pale ghostly man loomed over you even when on his knees, fingers spread across your thighs as your owner sat back, sprawled across the couch, flicking his wrist with a gentle 'play nice, and pet mind his mouth he...likes to bite' before leaving the two of you to play. 

Each one of his movements sounded like bones rattling in the wind and his collars tag had no endearment, no title, just 'Phantom' etched into the plate, clinking against the leather as he leaned forward. A mouth full of sharp teeth and a heavy drool slick tongue is all you get to see before he is pressing forward nuzzling his curls into the crook of your neck panting and purring at the heat of your skin. You know there is no talking back, not now, not unless you were ending this all right here and now, so hearing this other pet purr a few words is strange. 

The sigh of your name mixed with rumbling is all the warning you get before your shoulder is dripping with drool, the sharp teeth you had seen were pressing against your shoulder, digging in slightly and leaving you gasping for more. 

Maybe this new pet would be good, a nice playmate for when you were left all alone, someone who was just as eager for you as your owner was but just that little more ready to pull you under him, to rasp in your ear as he buried his cock in you purring and marking you up as he saw fit. Maybe this 'phantom' was just what you needed to fill all of the gaps your owner couldn't or maybe he was the perfect little push you needed to lose your place as the prized pet. 

Perhaps your owner should have thought twice about bringing in a hybrid to play with you, and perhaps they should have foreseen that they would come home to you drooling into the carpet dripping with cum and a phantom hybrid making sure that you were full and sated on his cock, not stopping even as his yellow eyes locked with this so-called 'owner'. 

[scholastic-dragon]

Broken Filter

Warnings: kissing Abe. Just some romantic fluff. One bed trope.

Summary: After the filter in Abe's tank broke, you offer for him to sleep in your room. To your surprise, he agrees.

Word count: 1.5k

Your jaw went slack.

You were joking. Merely making a funny comment.

Never did you think he'd agree to it.

"...really?" You tilt your head at him, he nodded, flipping through one of his favorite books.

You'd gone to visit him when you heard the loud bang coming from the library. When you got there, you found several B.P.R.D agents running around Abe's tank.

The filtration system broke and caught on fire, leaving his pool filled with smoke and the water turned gray.

It simply wasn't safe for Abe to go in there, much less sleep until it was cleaned and fixed.

So you offered your room.

"Well, I don't have many other options," Abe mused, gesturing behind him at the gray tank.

Abe seemed completely unbothered by the fact that his tank was smoking or that your face was red. He simply flipped through his books, barely looking at you.

"Right, yeah, yeah. I mean- well I guess I could always put you in the bathtub,"

Abe dropped his head, chuckling softly, he still didn't turn toward you, but you could see his large smile.

"Jokes on you, you have the best tub in the facility,"

"And how do you know so much about my tub, Agent Sapien?" You mused, nudging his arm with your elbow.

The nickname and joke, caused him to lift his head toward you. Big black eyes staring deeply into your own. A hint of mischief swirled in his voice.

"I have a life outside of missions, you know," He pushed off of the table, standing to his full height. You had to lift your head to keep his gaze.

"You have a secret double life with my bathtub, oh I expected this from HB but not from you Abe," You clicked your tongue, putting your hands on your hips and lowering your eyes to the floor.

He was about to give another remark when an agent walked up to you both.

"Abe, we need your help removing the filter," He smiled curtly at you before going back upstairs.

"Yes, I should go help," Abe placed a bookmark on his page and gently closed his book. He turned to you, slightly fidgeting with his hands. "Were you serious about your...offer?"

"Yes, can't have you sleeping in that thing," Despite the redness in your cheeks, you maintained eye contact, smiling brightly.

"Then, I'll see you tonight," He returned your smile and turned to the spiral staircase that led to the second floor and the entrance to his tank.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Which is where you found yourself now throwing everything off of your floor. Clothes were all shoved into the hamper or into the bottom part of your wardrobe.

You had just changed the sheets the night prior, so you didn't need to worry about that.

You exhaled, spinning in circles, looking around the room.

You couldn't help the excitement that you'd get to spend a while night alone with Abe. Anytime you'd try to talk with him, someone would interrupt.

You'd harbored feelings for him for about three months now, and you were hoping he felt the same.

He'd return all your jokes, sarcastic comments and even the occasional flirt, but it was so hard to read him.

After 30 minutes of cleaning every dirt spec from your room, you changed into some nice pajamas. A smile navy blue tank top and shorts set.

You stood in your bathroom, brushing out your hair when you heard Abe's timid knock.

"It's open!" You yelled, hearing the door creak open then shut.

Abe had a duffel bag with him that he gently set down on the floor next to your wardrobe.

"I hope you don't mind, but I brought a few books and things with me," He looked around your room, this was his first time actually seeing it.

"It's fine, I hope you don't mind my snoring," You both chuckled softly. You finished with your hair and leaned against the door frame, watching him look around the space.

"Don't worry, I shouldn't be able to hear it from the bathroom,"

His words made you stop and think, brows furrowed you stepped closer to him.

"Wait, did you think I was serious about making you sleep in the bathtub?"

"Yes?" He gave you a confused look. "Where else would I sleep?"

"In the bed!" You tried your hardest not to laugh at his scared and flustered expression.

"With you?"

"Yes, with me," You confirmed with a curt nod.

You rounded the bed, coming to your side and pulled back the covers. Abe stared at you silently from across the room.

You flicked on your nightside lamp and turned off the big room light. Everything now covered in a warm golden glow.

"Are you getting in?" You sat down on your bed and looked at him. He still hadn't moved. "If you truly don't want to, you can go to the tub-"

"No!" He quickly interjected, stepping forward and clearing his throat. "No, it's alright, I'll just go get changed,"

He quickly grabbed his duffel bag and went into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly.

You rolled your eyes with a small laugh, laying back and looking up at your concrete ceiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abe paced in your bathroom.

He didn't know how he was supposed to remain calm when you had just offered to sleep in the same bed with him.

He'd liked you for a few months now and didn't know how to covey his feelings. But this could be his chance.

He slipped out of his black swim shorts and pulled on a pair of Hellboy's shorts that he let him borrow.

He exhaled sharply, opening the door and putting his bag back by your wardrobe. Then he came to the opposite side of the bed.

You pulled the covers back for him, offering him a silent invitation.

Very slowly and with calculated moves, he sat down, then layer back on your bed. His throat bobbed as he tried to swallow the nervous lump in his throat.

He'd never slept in a bed before. The feeling was strange, he could feel gravity pulling his limps into your plush mattress. His bones and limbs felt heavy, like he could sink through the floor.

"You okay?" You whispered gently, watching for any discomfort in his handsome features.

"Yes, it's just..." He trailed off, turning and looking at you. You were laying on your side, leaned up on one if your elbows to look down at him.

Your hair was down, and brushed through, making it look extra silky. Your skin glowed in the golden light, he could see freckled and moles that other lights washed out. He saw little crinkles in your forehead and in the corner of your eyes. All things he'd never seen from this angle before.

You were truly beautiful.

"Abe?" He hummed softly at your voice. "You were saying?" You urged him to continue, smiling softly at how he was looking up at you.

"I've never slept in a real bed before...it's different," He spoke softly.

"Good different?" You asked, admiring how the warm light of the lamp reflected off his eyes and scales.

"Yeah, it's better cause you're here," He couldn't stop the words before they left his mouth.

You laughed softly, lowering yourself onto your side fully, looking deep into your eyes.

"Here, it's even better when you snuggle up in blankets," You reached your hand out of the sheets to grab some right at his chest. Pulling it gently, until it stopped under his chin.

Feeling a small boost of courage, you ran your knuckle along his jaw, making him turn and look to you. He swallowed hard, but didn't stop you.

Following his jaw, you ran it from his jaw down his neck, to his gils. They moved softly as your fingers grazed past them.

You cupped his cheek in your hand, he closed his eyes and leaned into you. Your thumb ran back and forth over his cheekbone.

He sighed contently. Feeling, for the first time, at complete ease. Never had he felt so safe and relaxed.

You leaned over to him and placed a small kiss to his cheek. He gasped, eyes snapping open, looking at you with wide eyes.

You chuckled softly, removing your hand, from him. But he was quick to grab it, he looked into your eyes for permission as he brought your wrist to his mouth.

You gave a small nod, and he placed three gentle kisses to your pulse point. Feeling it jump with each peck.

As you did, he reached forward, knuckle traving your jaw. You both stared at each other for a moment before leaning in.

You closed your eyes as your lips met, his lips were slightly cold, but melded perfectly with yours. You sighed, finally feeling him in your arms.

He pulled back, feeling slightly overwhelmed. He chuckled, hand cupping your cheek.

"I was worried you wouldn't feel the same," You say, closing your eyes and basking in this peaceful moment with him.

"I was worried you wouldn't have wanted to kiss me," Abe whispered, kissing the tip of your nose.

"Couldn't you have just read my mind?" You giggled softly, enjoying the feeling of his webbed hand on your warm cheek.

"Whose to say I didn't?" He joked, making you quirk a brow. "How else would I know about your tub?"

[culmaer]

I don't mean to be rude, but why is Canada considered a part of America on your poll? It's obviously not by continent so I'm just curious if you're looking for non-Americans why you'd group any countries together with the US.

because tumblr polls only have 12 options.

I originally had Canada separate from the US (and Ireland separate from the UK) but then ran out of space. and while the countries are not grouped by continent, they are grouped by region. Canada and the US are both North American and make the most sense to group together. simple as that.

for a more detailed answer, keep reading below

I also wouldn't want to redo the other groupings. for example, the prevalence of the Malaysia-Philippine bloc has been a real surprise ! that's actually an interesting data point. but if I'd simply done an Asia Group to free up another space, their user spike would likely and reasonably have been attributed to India-Pakistan-Bangladesh, some of the most populous countries in the Anglosphere.

or for example, comparing the populations of Tanzania and Kenya to South Africa, East Africa's representation on tumblr seems surprisingly low (probably because they have Swahili as an inter-ethnic group lingua franca, besides English). it's also nice to have some data on the Caribbean and Pacific islands

so yeah. I'd've liked Canada separate, but I'm glad to have rather prioritised the other regions.

oké. so now a little confession :

as interested as I genuinely am in data from outside the "West", US Americans are the majority of tumblr's userbase, and so for the poll's data to be accurate, it should reflect that. filtering out American responses wasn't really a goal

the main reason I added that line is because.. I feel like we've become a bit desensitised to "please reblog for a large sample size." and so I thought maybe by stoking some friendly (and I do beleive it's friendly) rivalry between Americans and everyone else, it could encourage more engagement with the poll

[demonsonthemoon]

Close Enough for Now

Fandom: Ted Lasso Pairing: Flo “Sassy” Collins & Ted Lasso Word Count: 1955 Rating: Teen Summary: Sassy told Ted she didn't want to date Ted, and that should have been the end of it. Except she couldn't stop thinking about that conversation. So she screamed into a pillow. And then she called Rebecca. Tags: Missing scene, s03ep04, canon-compliant, Aromantic Sassy Collins

Read it on AO3.

Some aromantic!Sassy for @aggressivelyarospec‘s AAW. I love an allosexual aromantic who wants to be friends with benefits. No, I’m not projecting.

“Hey, I was thinking... We have a good time together, yeah?”

“They're called simultaneous orgasms, Ted, yes.” Sassy knew she was being obtuse, of course she did. She just wasn't sure she wanted to encourage Ted down this line of conversation. Not that the man usually needed much encouraging for any kind of conversation he set his mind to.

“What I'm getting at is, uuh... Well I was just thinking, maybe... We could go on an actual date sometime, you know? You and me, together.”

“God, no.”

She could have tried to filter her knee-jerk reaction. She knew people did that. Filter themselves in order to appear nicer. She didn't think there was anything nice about leading people on with half-truths, but maybe that was just her.

“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to consider it,” Ted replied, obviously hurt by her quick response.

“Ted! We can't date.”

“Why not?!”

Once again, she probably should have thought about it for longer, as an act of kindness to Ted if anything. Was it so bad that she didn't want to lie to him? Instead of treating Ted – a grown-ass man – like a fragile crystal bird, she stated the truth clearly. “You're a mess.”

“I'm a mess?”

“Of course you are.” It wasn't such a bad thing to be. Not in the case of this man, sweet and funny, handsome and absolutely lovely to have in her bed. “I'm a mess too,” she admitted, “but I'm a mess three years further on than you, so I'm more of a... slight disarray.”

She meant that, too, in the sense that it had taken her about a year to even admit how much her divorce had affected her life. With more self-awareness had come the realisation that she couldn't imagine a long-term relationship right now that didn't end with someone being hurt. She wasn't ready to let someone in like that. To be so vulnerable. She wasn't willing to make the compromises that such a relationship required, not when she felt like she still had so much to discover about who she could be when she refused to compromise.

“More like a slight disar-ray of sunshine, if you ask me,” Ted replied, infuriatingly.

“Oh god,” Sassy sighed.

Ted immediately apologized. Earnestly. Like he really couldn't keep in all of those dreadful puns or the sweetness that seem to just drip out of him, like he was an ice-cream cone someone had shoved inside an oven. And somehow he still thought it was his fault.

“Ted. On the day my ex got re-married, I drank a bottle of red wine through a straw and told my uber driver I was in love with him. Then,” she continued as she picked up her jacket. “when he dropped me home, I puked so much my mouth was like...” She took a second to find an appropriate simile. She wasn't actively trying to disgust Ted into forgetting about her as a romantic option. She just needed him to realize how gruesome the path has been to lead to her functioning as she did today. “... an elevator from the goddamn Shining. It got my rating down to a 3.9.”

She almost let herself be distracted by Ted's fucking five stars rating, right until he admitted driving the car himself sometimes when getting an Uber.

“You are such a mess,” she couldn't help but re-affirm. She felt truly sorry for this man, for the obvious pain in his eyes at her words. But she could also much too easily imagine the suffering that would come later if she went against her nature and played nice right now.

The thing was, it wasn't that difficult to imagine a relationship with Ted. It wasn't a hardship to imagine herself staying in the morning, letting Ted order them breakfast, learning how he took his coffee. Getting late check-out again so they had time to shower after round too, brushing their teeth while sharing space in the bathroom. Making that a regular thing.

It would be easy to let herself be loved by Ted.

And then she would feel trapped, and she would try to run away, and Ted would redouble his efforts to please her and she would grow to hate him. Or maybe Ted would be the one to run, when he realised that Sassy wasn't what he wanted, or when he came to understand all that he could have by being his own person. And then the poor man would hate himself for failing her, and she would hate herself for knowing all along that this was how it would end.

Sassy wasn't always nice, but she would never be so unkind.

“I like our status. Friends with benefits, like... Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher.”

“Oh, no no no, I think you're thinking of 2011's other 'good friends turned casual lovers'-based rom-com. No Strings Attached. Friends with Benefits was Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake.”

“Oh wow. 2011. Friends be fucking.” She made a face as she said that. This was Ted's territory. One where he usually felt confident and free, brilliant in his enthusiasm. But the way he was spouting rom-com facts was cold, detached, and Sassy knew it was a lost cause even as she tried. “So let's keep things 2011. Cool and breezy.”

She left him with a kiss and some encouragement and probably much to think about.

She wished he wouldn't do so much thinking sometimes. For his sake.

That should have been the end of it. Another night of good fun between the two of them, and Sassy could go back to her everyday life with the satisfaction of two nice orgasms.

Except, in totally hypocritical fashion, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

The quiet disappointment in Ted's eyes. The way she had felt so desperate to keep things as they were, to make him understand it truly was the best arrangement possible. The whole conversation kept haunting her until she felt like screaming into a pillow about it.

As soon as she got home, she did just that. It was a very healthy coping mechanism. Worked great for a lot of the kids she worked with.

And then she called Rebecca.

“It is weird that I don't want to date Ted?”

“Good afternoon to you too,” Rebecca answered drily.

Sassy knew her well enough, so she wasn't scared that Rebecca was mad at her for calling her about feelings advice (she refused to call it “relationship advice”. If it had to be something, it was “non-relationship advice”) the day after her father's funeral. She probably appreciated the distraction, as had become clear when they'd discussed Rebecca's own feelings the day before.

“I'm serious, Stinky,” she whined. “Help me out, here.”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other line, probably the time it took Rebecca to weigh her words.

“Well, Ted is a really nice man.” Sassy rolled her eyes, because duh. “And you certainly do seem to enjoy spending time with him.” She groaned dramatically at that. She could tell from her voice that Rebecca was enjoying herself. “Still, that doesn't mean you have to date him if you don't want to.”

“I don't. Want to,” Sassy specified. “I really don't. And I gave him a whole speech about why, but now I'm not exactly sure if that speech holds up.”

“Oh god. He asked you out?”

“Yeah,” Sassy replied with a put-upon sigh. “Of course he did. You've met the man. He practically radiates healthy family values. Of course he would ask me out at some point.”

“I guess I see what you mean. So, what was the reason you gave him for turning him down?”

“I told him he was a mess.” Rebecca sputtered on the other end of the line, so Sassy just kept going. “It's true! It's true, okay? It doesn't mean it's bad. I'm a mess too. I told him that, literally. But he just got divorced and he's trying to find his balance in his new life, and if we start dating he's just gonna use me as a crutch to not do that work, and then one of us will realize we're actually really unhappy in this relationship, and we'll have to start the process of rebuilding ourselves from scratch once again.”

“That does sound like a hassle.”

“Thank you!” Sassy exclaimed. She was fully aware that Rebecca had been sarcastic in the last comment, but she wasn't about to let the other woman get one over her.

“Do you not think you might be projecting some of your anxieties onto Ted?” Rebecca asked diplomatically.

Sassy snorted. “Why do you think I called you, Stinky?”

Rebecca hummed in agreement.

As she waited for her friend, Sassy paced around her apartment. It had felt empty, at first, whenever Nora wasn't here. Nowadays, Sassy enjoyed the opportunity to pace, to leave things lying around and know it wouldn't bother anyone but herself.

“Do you think he deserves it?” Rebecca finally asked, catching Sassy off-guard.

“Mmh?”

“Ted. Do you think he deserves a romantic relationship?”

Sassy floundered. “Yes. I mean, of course, if he wants one. It's not about deserving-”

“What about you? Do you deserve one?”

“I don't want a romantic relationship, Stinky. I don't want to date Ted. I don't want to date anyone.”

“Ah. So this conversation isn't about Ted at all.”

Sassy groaned as she dropped herself onto her couch “It just- it just seems so tedious. I'm already raising a child. I don't want to raise a grown man on top.”

“You've got your hands pretty full with just yourself.”

Sassy let out an offended gasp that quickly turned into a chuckle.

“It doesn't have to be like that, you know. A relationship.

“I know.”

Sassy thought of Darren, her ex-husband. It hadn't always been terrible. There had been comfort to be found in someone knowing you so well. In sharing a life with someone.

Although, now that she'd reconnected with her best friend, Sassy found that Rebecca and Nora were just as good at making her feel this way as Darren had been. And there was a sense of freedom to her life she had only recently allowed herself to explore. It hadn't been there during her marriage.

Yes, she'd been devastated when Darren had started dating again. But not because she'd wanted Darren back. She'd just felt like a failure, re-building her life but never managing to make it complete again. Never managing to find love or even try to.

“But you don't have to want it either,” Rebecca added. “You don't owe anyone anything, Flo Collins. Not anymore. So just follow your heart on this one. Or your cunt, if your heart's not in it.”

“Stinky!”

They both laughed and, yes, there was that lightness. There was the freedom.

“Ted will get over it, eventually,” Rebecca stated as their giggles died down.

“Yeah. He will. It wouldn't have worked anyway. I'm not into the business of filling the holes in other people's lives.”

“Please don't make me contemplate anymore holes being filled while we're discussing my colleague,” Rebecca responded, to Sassy's delight and cackle.

“No promises. He's a great lay even with the sad puppy eyes.”

“Okay, I'm going to hang up now.”

“Thanks, Stinky.” She didn't add a sorry about your dad or sorry about your mom. Not even a sorry about bothering you. These kinds of words were nothing that Rebecca needed.

“You know it,” the other woman said before hanging up.

Sassy stared at her ceiling for a moment, suddenly drained of all energy. She tried to picture the life she wanted, and the life she had.

…

Close enough for now.

[xxlovelynovaxx]

I wish there was an option to take posts/replies by certain users in filtered content off your dash entirely (without including reblogs they didn't add anything to especially TT). Like not even "this contains filtered content, view post?" just nuke it entirely. There are a handful of users I'd like to just knock off my dash with an orbital strike and never have to even be aware of their presence again, without affecting their activity or that of moots who are moots with them.

Like, yeah, they're massive assholes, but not to the point they deserve termination or for everyone we have in common as moots to block them or anything. It is the fault of their shitty actions that I hate them, but only to the point of blocking and filtering them. It's not their fault my incandescent and ever-burning rage for their existence is so strong that being reminded we share a planet bothers me.

That's a me issue, but I WOULD like to be able to manage it by just... not having to be reminded of it. Even if I need to further process my emotions, that would MINIMALLY be a healthy coping mechanism in the interim.

Anyway, would be nice if Tumblr actually implemented helpful features like that instead of scary clowns shilling for companies being struck against.

[skaruresonic]

My main gripe with Origins (aside from the state of Sonic 3 which I believe was patched only a whole year later, yikes) is the same that I have with all collections of pixel based games: the lack of any quality crt filters to blend the pixels in a natural way and to recreate transparency effects like the ones of the waterfalls in the Genesis games.

I know that most people have no issue with this since they like their pixels nice and sharp but these games were never meant to be displayed on modern TVs with HD resolutions so the ultra pixelated look we see and are accustomed to is actually not really the way they are supposed to look like

(aside from the state of Sonic 3 which I believe was patched only a whole year later, yikes)

Haven't played Sonic 3 on Origins yet; was it bad? I think I vaguely remember some issues wrt the soundtrack?

As a tangential aside, while Sonic 3 is infamously buggy, tbf most of the Classics have their fair share of bugs that have persisted across most ports. I noticed they ironed out a bug in Sonic 1 where Sonic jumps with a walking animation if you jump near certain objects in Green Hill and Marble Zone. They also fixed the bug in the Chemical Plant boss where you can bypass getting hurt by Eggman dropping Mega Mack on you by ducking. It now hurts you regardless of whether you duck. The fixes disappointed me a little bit, as a matter of fact, as those are bugs that I actually enjoy seeing lol. While polish is necessary to make a game playable, sometimes too much sands off the rough edges and idiosyncrasies you come to love in a game.

---

the lack of any quality crt filters to blend the pixels in a natural way and to recreate transparency effects like the ones of the waterfalls in the Genesis games.

I know that most people have no issue with this since they like their pixels nice and sharp but these games were never meant to be displayed on modern TVs with HD resolutions so the ultra pixelated look we see and are accustomed to is actually not really the way they are supposed to look like

Yeah, I know what you mean. It would have been nice to have some sort of CRT filter. Actually, this is why I keep a huge CRT in my bedroom, specifically for playing old games and watching old movies. SA2 DC and Paper Mario TTYD wouldn't look as good on a smart TV, and playing those games for too long may damage the flatscreen. (Plus, it can play VHS, DVDs, and has a headphone jack. Old TV or not, I love it <3) Some compilations do fancy tricks to try and circumvent the problem, but the fact of the matter remains that games of this era were designed for the technology of their time. It's not going to look as good in crisp HD when the resolution is supposed to be at least a little bit hazy and impressionistic in order to make your brain blend the colors together. I think Sonic's Ultimate Genesis Collection had options to filter the pixels and "smooth" them over, but that just swung in the opposite direction of making everything look too simplified:

This looks more like painting than pixel art. I want to be able to tell that it's pixel art without it being too sharp or too smooth.

[ao3-helper]

I’ve got a question regarding ao3 and I’m not sure who to ask so I figured I’d start with you.

Do you know of anyway to sort bookmarks by word count? An extension maybe?

I bookmark any fic i even kinda enjoyed just so I don’t lose them and have everything in one place but I can’t figure out how to sort them by word count if that’s even possible. Any ideas?

The saddest news ever is that AO3 doesn't allow you to search the bookmarks by wordcount because the search system for those is different that the overall search system and would require to change it and well... This is AO3, it's a team of volunteers and things to change have a degree of importance. So yeah, maybe one day, but not today.

So! I looked for other options... And started to make a whole ass post before finding the best one right under my nose...

Best option: right in AO3, script required, ordered from bigger to smaller

The best option I could find is a modified version of the "AO3 Review + Last Chapter Shortcut + Kudos-sortable Bookmarks" script, which was a comment from 2019 and added a sort by word count option. To run the script you will need an extension like Tampermonkey, click on the pastebin link, copy the code, create a new script and paste it.

The original script add two clickable links right beside the title box allowing you to get to the last chapter right away and to download but also, if you go to the filter box, "Kudos" will be added in the dropdown list for "Sort by". The modified script, however, do not have that download button, but, it does add the option "Word Count" after "Kudos" in the "sort by" dropdown menu.

Once you've selected it and sorted by, it will display the work from bigger to smaller only. I unfortunately am not familiar with javascript so I can't modify anything, but I guess it's better than nothing.

I also do have to drop this post that links to a video which explains how to add plugins to firefox nightly on android because like that you can also have that option when you don't have your PC.

Hope this is what you were looking for!

If anyone wants, the other (lesser) options are under the cut.

Option 1: right in AO3, nothing else required, no order

When you bookmark works, you can add tags and notes. When on your bookmarks tab, you can search for those. Which means that you can add tags for a number corresponding to the word count of the fic. (say, 1000-2000, 2000-3000, etc) which means that you can look for the right tag for the word count you want.

This also means that you cannot sort them from bigger to smaller (or the contrary) but will still have an estimated length to help your search.

Option 2: right in AO3, needs a script, no order

Another option would be to use tampermonkey (or other similar extension) and add the "AO3: Estimated reading time" script. This script displays directly on the fic's box the reading time and you can let it display a colour depending on the level (colour that you can change to you wishes).

If you want to dig through the code, you can very easily change your wpm (I think it's set to 250 by default) and how many minutes changes the colour (for me, under 30 minutes will be green, between 30 and 90 will be yellow, above 90 will be red), but less easily add new levels. (but I guess you could modify and test things around to your wish, do remember to create a copy of the script so you can go back to original).

This means that you can browse through your bookmarks and have a visual help to know how long they are. But again, no order.

Option 3: out of AO3, needs an app, ordered

This option is nice if you read fanfictions on other site than just AO3, but it doesn require some works.

I found this tutorial on how to add work on Calibre (a free ebook reader) and add plugins so you can add fanworks and display a word count, that will therefore be ordered.

This is the second best solution, in my opinion, because it also downloads the works you want and like that you can always have them on hand, but I'm pretty sure it's only for pc.

[ramlightly]

so happy to see you on tumblr!! have been following you on twit for a year now or a little more since the very first basil arts and concepts :] with twitter falling apart and vpns for it barely working in my country its a joy to see you on in here!! hope the website will be kind to you + i think in case you want that, there is an option to label your posts as mature thats been implemented recently (though the option to see the mature content usually is bisabled by default for everyone unless they manually turn it on i think... if that would hurt your reach)

Hello, and thank you! Tumblr has been nice to me so far.

Yeah I've been using the filter, especially since I'm not exactly sure Tumblr allows lol. Are the existence of Thistle's bare boobs enough to get me banned? We shall see!