#there absolutely nothing else in this picture

[dollerinna]

I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

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Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

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Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

[eflen-n-reegee]

Caregiver Emotions Headcanons (Inside Out 2)

No real spoilers for the movie, but I’ll still hide it under the cut until it’s been out longer.

Anxiety

She in incredibly protective, doing all she can to ensure you’re safe and happy. (And yes, she can be a little TOO protective at times, but she’s trying to get better about reigning herself in.)

She always has your regression gear with her and she has emergency regression hiding spots mapped out for every place you go.

She is a huge ball of energy and always up for playing with you.

If you’re a quieter, calmer regressor, she feels a little less confident in herself; but with the help of the other emotions, she’s getting better about relaxing, and she tries very hard to apply these calming techniques when she’s with you.

If you have panic attacks, Anxiety does absolutely everything she can to help you work through them, and she’s a source of immense comfort in the aftermath.

Embarrassment

He worries a LOT about whether he’s a good caregiver for you…

But when you need him, he steps up big time. All his doubts get put on the back burner the second you start crying or get scared of something.

He doesn’t feel comfortable giving you rules, but he “strongly encourages” you to do certain things.

(One of these things is to stay offline while you’re regressed. He worries you might stumble across something scary.)

He’s not always much of a talker himself, so he completely understands if you like to keep things quiet or if you experience verbal shutdown. He never presses you to talk when you’re unable or uncomfortable.

Ennui

You thought Disgust was good at helping you act big when you’re regressed? Ennui is even better. If you regress when you don’t want to, she lets you copy her behaviors to seem as unaffected as possible to others.

She has all the kid games on her phone. All of them. Every single one.

If you don’t know French, she’ll teach you. If you DO know French, she’ll treat it like it’s a secret language the two of you share.

Her hair is long and straight, and if you’re the kind of regressor who likes to play with hair, she’ll tolerate literal hours of braiding and styling.

You see her smile more than anyone else does, because absolutely everything you do is interesting to her.

Envy

She is the worst (best) when it comes to spoiling you. She constantly showers you with new toys and blankets and pacifiers; she can’t help herself, you just deserve it!

She is constantly complimenting you, going on and on about how cute and sweet and small you are.

She loves to look at moodboards and agere outfits with you, admiring all the cool styles other people create.

(And then she encourages you to create your own, and spends literal days obsessing over what you make.)

As small as she is, she always manages to make you feel smaller.

Bonus: Nostalgia

(Yes, she was barely in the movie, but I still love her XD)

Nothing you do can upset her; even the loudest tantrum is met with fond chuckling and affectionate words.

She loves to bake with you, and she makes the absolute best cookies.

Yes, she has heard of that weird obscure children’s movie; and yes, she would love to watch it with you.

She’s definitely a scrapbooker and has a half dozen books filled with pictures of you.

She has a nursery full of vintage toys for you to play in.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

You’re different today, that’s making him a little suspicious. He knows he shouldn’t be but he’ll be nice about it. I call it Soft Yandere Sephiroth x Reader (dunno if that’s already a thing but he’s not doing much right now)

____________________________________

Taking a deep breath as Sephiroth hugs you, taking in your scent that he’s grown so accustomed to. Or he thought he was going to be taking in the scent of your favorite fragrance.

This was different, this isn’t the usual aroma that he’s use to taking in. Pulling back Sephiroth simply stares at you, contemplating if he’s being delusional (again) or if he should make this a big deal. Reason, he repeats in his head, listen to reason.

You already know something is off with Sephiroth as he pulled away, asking him if anything was the matter. Of course he’s going to lie and nothing is bothering him, giving you a kiss, proceeding to make himself comfortable on the couch.

A couple of hours later as you’re taking a bath Sephiroth steps into the bathroom, leaning against the wall. Staring at you. Never one to falter under his gaze, you give a challenging stare back. “Well hello to you too.”

So maybe he only semi listened to reason, he’s as poise and rational as ever in his mind. “Who have you been around lately?” Ah, right to the point this time. That’s a bit better, now you’re just confused as to why he’s asking you this.

Realizing what kind of conversation this was going to be you sink back into the water. It isn’t that you don’t want to comfort him when he’s like this, it’s just you already can’t picture being with someone else. You’re also certain he wouldn’t let you be with anyone else anyways, almost sure he’d kill them and make you watch.

“I’ve been surrounded by the usual people at work, can’t really say I’ve been around anyone new.”

Gnawing at his inner cheek, arms crossed, with his finger tapping against his arm Sephiroth gives a moment to consider his words. Remembering that you tell him he needs to release any problems he’s holding in before he blows ‘the absolute fuck up’, no matter how little it might be.

“Something’s different about how you smell. As though something’s been…added.” With a frown you sit up, resting your forearms on the edge of the tub. To be honest you’re speechless, reaching over you grab the bottle of soap, presenting it to him in an ad like fashion.

“I changed soap Sephiroth.”

Being the eloquent, expressive, and very well spoken man that he is at times like this, his reply suits him very well. “Oh.” A moment of silence passes by before being broken again.

“Well can I smell it just to make sure?”______________________________________

This is so stupid, I do not know what type of time my mind tends to be on. But I can’t see this man being the healthiest dude to be with but fuck he’s trying so you will too.

[zarvasace]

I've been going through your ao3 bc I've n been having a hankering for Four/ colors content

Hyrule's fic where he has the loftwing tattoo is ouch in the good ways. Boy had it ROUGH and if I found out that happened to my bestie I would also puke so I get you, Sky.

And the one where Red and Vio grow up in a cult and Red is the perfect little cult angel so they'll be allowed to LEAVE and they haven't seen the sun for 16 years like my heart. Those poor boys. They just want to see their brothers and Red was too young to even remember them ;-;

I picture that Red and Vio found a nice house with a big garden and they spend all day relaxing in the sun and hanging out and nothing else happens to them and they're happy and also Red helps Zelda and the knights find and put a stop to the cult cause Red has alllll the information about them now.

Well I certainly have my fair share of Four and FS boys content. XD I've actually been meaning to add on a bit to the cult one, so here's a fun little epilogue! ~1k words, some CWs for implied religious trauma, some cursing, and moderate angst.

(said cult-themed fic is here! It's a whump fill and imo one of the more intense ones so.)

---

Green wipes his hands off on a towel and heads to the doorway to poke his head into the living room. “Hey, Vio.”

“Sorry!” Vio says, startling. The book in his hands jumps as he shuts it too fast. He looks up at Green, then blinks and settles. “Sorry,” he says again, this time apologizing for apologizing. 

Green takes a second to bite his tongue—he harbors an eternal, ice-cold hatred for the people who'd somehow managed to get it into Vio’s head that reading was something to apologize for—then shrugs in what he hopes is a nonchalant way. “I just wanted to ask if you had a preference between tomato sauce or cheese sauce for dinner. Blue and Red should be back soon.”

Vio slowly reopens his book to the page he'd been reading. “Um, I think Red likes cheese better.”

“Okay, well, what about you?” 

“I don't really have a preference.”

“Cheese, then,” Green says, just as the door to their little house swings open. 

Green’s little question had startled Vio, but Red's loud, enthusiastic greeting very much does not. 

“Viooooo! Guess what I have!” Red bounces in, wearing something a lot like what he'd worn that first day. It's red and yellow and reminds Green of festival robes. The thin fabric accentuates the way he dances in and presents a set of ominous-looking black iron keys to Vio in both hands. 

Those keys mean absolutely nothing to Green, but Vio raises his eyebrows. “You really did it, then.”

“Did you doubt me?” Red smiles. 

“Can we melt those down?” 

“Oh, I definitely plan on it.” 

Blue follows Red into the house, closing the door behind them both. He wears Vio’s old grayed cloak with the heavy leather mantle, though now there’s a splatter of blood across the side. Where Red is clearly very pleased with what they've done, Green can see Blue’s anger simmering beneath the surface. 

In a flailing of angry movement, Blue rips off the hood and tears the mantle off his shoulders. He bundles it all up and dropkicks the thing into the wall with a shout. 

“Woah, Blue,” Green says, stepping in but not touching him yet. “You okay?” 

“I'm fine!” Blue snaps. He throws his hands into the air. “I’m just dandy! I'm totally not traumatized at all! And I bet you aren't either!” He gestures to Red and Vio, who watch him warily. “We're all really well-adjusted members of society! Nobody treated me like shit while they thought I was you! Nobody at all!”

Green drops his towel and grabs Blue’s arms to stop him from throwing a punch at the wall. He's done it before. “Calm down!”

“Why should I?” Blue keeps shouting, but Green can see the shine in his eyes. “They kept saying, oh, they're good people, just misled, just take care of some of the leaders and everyone will be fine, but you know who gave a damn about me? About Vio? When we staged that—that—”

“Blue!” Green shakes him, hoping to snap him out of it, but all he does is shake the tears out. 

Blue is more prone to punching out his feelings than crying about them. The tears that fall down his face are out of the ordinary for him. He looks at Green like he did every time he became despondent: like he hopes desperately that Green can fix the world. His rage is quickly giving way to full-out sobbing, and it's a bit startling. This hasn't happened in years. 

Green has gotten good at dealing with Blue’s moods, but Vio and Red very much have not. Red has moved to stand half in front of Vio, as if to protect him, and Vio’s eyes have gone calculating. Then Red leans back to whisper something, never taking his eyes off of Blue and Green, and Vio responds, too quietly to hear. 

Blue starts to push away from Green, red in the face, but Vio is right there, hands raised as if he doesn't know what to do with them. 

“Um,” Vio says, “I'm sorry.”

“No, I'm sorry!” Blue interrupts, his voice breaking. “I didn't mean to—to get mad—and we didn't find you—and I had no idea—” 

Red taps Vio on the shoulder and whispers loudly. “Ask if he wants a hug.”

A short, wet laugh interrupts Blue’s tears, and he shakes his head as if to say it isn't necessary. 

Vio’s face goes tight in a wince, and Green starts to move to interrupt, but then Vio raises his arms and wraps them around Blue, and Blue’s sobs go quiet almost instantly. After a few seconds, they readjust so Blue can hold Vio back. Vio definitely isn't crying, but he does hide his face behind his bangs and Blue’s neck. 

Red looks like he's about to cry, too, so Green nudges him. 

“Want to help me make some sauce for pasta?” 

“Really?” Red says, looking up. “Yeah. I do.”

“Come on.” 

Red drops the keys he holds on top of Vio’s discarded cloak, then follows Green into the kitchen. He's a little subdued, but still enthusiastic. By the time Red burns his half of the sauce (surprising no one), Blue and Vio have shifted to speaking quietly on the old couch. 

It's going to be a long road of healing, even considering how far the four of them have come so far. But now they know that the cult isn't going to come after Red and Vio, or kidnap anyone else, for that matter, since they got the princess and knights involved. But Vio has begun to keep his books in plain sight, and Red curses a little more every day. Red goes outside into the sun most days, and drags Vio with him every so often. They moved to a nice little house, and visit their father at least once a week. Blue has been happy, and so has Green. 

It's a long road, yes, and doubtlessly it's an uphill one. But they're on it together. 

[mwaasans]

My photography assignment that I thought I share :D

[ullybug]

"better carve it on your forehead or tattoo it on your ass, / 'cause who can tell, when the clock strikes twelve, / if today's become tomorrow or if it's all just gone to hell?"

- this too shall pass by danny schmidt

(x, x, x, x, x)

[avid-adoxography]

I have nothing to say to defend myself.

Just take it.

[tekbro]

belly fluff

[ducktollers]

ai starbucks on doordash its so fucking over. if any company can afford to hire a photographer to take a picture of some cups sitting in water it is fucking starbucks ARE YOU KIDDING like are you joking. bye

[handern]

since some of you find these endearing, have some dad update :

he made me stand by the porch of a random countryside church some 4 years ago so he could estimate the height and width of said porch and with that he came to the conclusion that the porch was a later addition

he only now managed to find proof of that through the description of the porch he found in an architecture book from the late 19th century that said that one of the windows is early gothic even though when we were there it was OBVIOUSLY gothic imitation you know

so now he managed to not only track back when that porch was destroyed (after the publication of that book) he identified who was in charge of rebuilding it through a publication in a very local savants' newspaper from the early 20th century that he managed to unearth despite the fact that the article was about another church and only mentioned the one he was interested in in passing (he knew the names of all the local church architects already as you do, and knew that other church had been repaired in the same time period he guesstimated for the one he was interested in)

he is in the process of making a whole multi layer map with the dimensions of the church through time

it can't be used in wikipedia bc it's research and wikipedia only allows solid sources, personal works are forbidden and he refuses to share his work w the local savant society bc they're not academics and "run by some holy water font frogs" so he's just doing that for fun now

he swore for 6 months he wouldn't work as hard on the inside of that church's description as he did on the outside bc the vocabulary is a lot more specific. He of course failed this and I have received multiple texts and emails that mention how much he hates architecture

also he has an architecture expert nemesis now, a guy nobody heard about who died 80 years ago

all this was caused bc I wanted to visit the bat museum near that church 4 years ago

[skitskatdacat63]

I never see Sebs posts until like hours later when I come on here and eventually see it and it's just like OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SEB!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CANT KEEP DOING THIS TO ME!!!!!!!!!! SEB ON HIS SHOULDERS 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 SUCH AN UNDERRATED MOMENT AND THEN HE JUST CASUALLY POSTS IT ON HIS INSTA OUT OF ALL OTHER PICS HE COULD'VE CHOSEN!!!!!!!! AND HE TAGGED MARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM LOSING IT AAAAAHHHHH

[theflyingfeeling]

that clip of Joonas and Olli in the pool:

two bros chilling in a hot tub zero feet apart because they are gay 😌

(no but for real they are my favourite bi-bros)

Well you said it, anon 😌 not quite as zero feet apart as Olli and Tommi in Vegas though, but just as gay/bi 🥰

[im-still-watching-anime]

our cat looking absolutely decadent as she pins my legs in the MOST uncomfortable position

[orcelito]

ok SO i went and got out Most of my knives (i remembered I have a nonbinary knife only after i took the photos & also idk where it is currently. just imagine all these plus a nonbinary flag knife ok? ok)

HERE ^ is the most of them, minus that nonbinary knife. look at that fuckin mess. 32 shown here (i think) plus my nonbinary knife makes 33 blades (minus cooking knives, i dont count those for these purposes)(also counting the swiss army knife as only 1 bc lol)

& some explanations for them! gonna put these under a readmore bc it got Kinda long on accident whoops. Read Ahead if u wanna see me nerd out about my knife collection.

STARTING WITH my big ones.

my spear (gifted to me), my cane sword (from anime convention), my shitty $20 sword (also from anime convention. low quality but cool as hell), my teal mini sword + matching throwing knives (from online), my decorative axe (from a local store), my twin blades (my sharpest blades, theyre actually kinda scary how sharp they are, but i love them bc of it. from online), red saber (from online),

ANDDDDDDDDDDDD my favorite hefty bitch of a machete that i sleep with in my bed frame on the very right (inherited from my grandpa bc i was the first one who spotted it at Family Claiming Day)(this thing really is as long as my leg & much heavier than Any of the rest of the blades pictured here. i love it)

another view of the blades so u can better see how long they are. the big boys. they're lovely. 2nd heaviest blade is the cane sword when it's in its cane, mostly bc that handle has some Heft. tbh id feel safer using it as a bludgeoning weapon than a stabbing weapon, but having a cane sword is just plain cool

AND my smaller blades!

i have a lot of pocket knives. starting from the top left: golden pocket knife (from online), rainbow dragon (from online), rainbow HEFTY boy (heaviest pocket knife, from online), spider knife (from online), stiletto jade (from online), pathetic army boy (from local store, this knife has NO redeeming qualities, but it's mine <3), black stiletto (from local store), plain dagger man (from online), my damascus steel knife (was a gift, probably my singular most expensive knife. fancy boy), Dull Dagger Man (first blade i ever bought, from anime convention)

& for bottom row: teeny black knife (first pocket knife i owned, gift from my dad), lil rainbow knife (from local store), plain steel knife (from sketchy shop in gatlinburg + one of my Favorite knives), green dragon knife (from online, a real beaut), triple throwing knives (also from same sketchy shop in gatlinburg), the baby throwing knives again from the Big Boys pic but i included them again bc they r so teeny tiny, my keychain key blade (from online), swiss army knife (from online), & the pair of claw keychain baldes (from online)

many blades, many stories, so little time. theyre great tho.

SOME FOCUSES:

^ these are all my spring-assisted knives, sorted from worst feel to best feel to open. based on quickness, ease, & general satisfaction. leftmost is leftmost bc i didnt even Know it was spring assisted, bc it doesnt have a nice lil tab on the back to press. no u gotta press on one of the rungs. but once u do it Does spring open, so i included it. next 3 are just Average in feel (these 3 are sibling blades anyways, nice of them to be together). jade stiletto is smooth and quick, nice to open. Hefty Boy rainbow has some THUNK to it when i open it. like that babey's got PURPOSE to it. added to the general size of it & it's just pretty great. AND THEN MY TWO FAVS, green dragon is a perfect beautiful knife & feels very great to open. and then Steel Sketchy Knife aka my 2nd pocket knife & first i bought for myself. it looks plain in comparison to the others, but she's anything But. quick, light, Sharp. it has the Best feel to open, bc it's just a fast SHHK. probably my knife that's seen the most use (aside from my small black knife) just bc of how great it feels to open. i love that knife so much for Real.

& the final highlight, somewhat related, are the knives I actually use the most in my daily life!

on the left are the knives I keep in my bag by default, & thus the ones I carry with me Everywhere i go. small black pocket knife bc she's Ol' Faithful, & a pretty lowkey knife for basic tasks when I dont wanna raise any eyebrows lol. silver knife bc as previously stated i Love using it so much. i take it out when i gotta breakdown a lot of boxes at work, & it Never disappoints. small rainbow keychain key knife bc it's cute & i like to keep it on my keychain. & swiss army knife bc Obviously im gonna keep the swiss army knife in my bag for if i need an emergency tool.

on the right are the three knives I keep out in my apartment. black stiletto lives on my bathroom counter, for bathroom knife needs. green stiletto i keep on my table next to where I hang out in my bedroom, for any couch time needs. & then green dragon beaut camps out on top of some shelves by my front door bc it's Great for opening boxes, aka something I will do for packages I receive after pulling them in the front door. it works for me.

all the rest of my knives live either in a box (for small ones) or my closet (for big ones). i may have a lot of knives, but somehow I never feel like i have enough. i just love collecting them so much <3

[katranga]

idk how to tell this guy at work to stop talking ab his diet and "goal weight". like i simply Will Not engage in that kind of conversation and idk how to be any more polite ab stopping it than literally saying that the weight you are is not a personal failing

[anti-transphobia]

Twitter users have learned the term "weaponized incompetence" and of course are using it wrong and it's pissing me off. The latest example of "weaponized incompetence" is a husband who decided to make crescent rolls but didn't realize he needed to roll them up so he made large crescent chips instead. Literally just a mistake. Y'know. Those things people make?

Another recent example is someone's fiance being asked to clean up hot sauce. Now this could certainly more likely actually be weaponized incompetence! The very slow movements very much says "look at me do this and fail. You should just do it next time, it's easier." But you know what it also very much says, something that is just as likely? The movements are slow because it's more than he expected and he's trying to figure it out. I struggle with this, and have gotten better with practice, but what else are you supposed to do? Sometimes there's a puddle of something and you put a paper towel on it and it absorbs but is not nearly enough. He specifically examines how full of hot sauce it is after the first soak and how much more there is. And when he starts smearing it around...how else are you supposed to avoid that? It's still cleaning it so long as the smears aren't left behind

As I said, weaponized incompetence or someone genuinely trying are both likely there. The thing is, I'm not making assumptions about it. And neither should other people. Those types of slow, unsteady movements as I figure things out are extremely common for me. I am autistic and have struggled to process physical tasks (how to accomplish things that require my body to move in a certain way, including running and jump roping etc. didn't learn how to jump rope until I was 18) my entire life. This is how I figure shit out. If someone assumed me literally doing my best to complete a task was weaponized incompetence, I'd be pissed. In fact, that happens all the time!

My mother, while I was growing up, pretty much weaponized weaponized incompetence, without using those words. She would ask me to do something. I, being an autistic child, would try my best. I'd fail or do a poor job because I'm a child. She might try a few more times with me but because I didn't get it instantly or it struggled to click she'd visibly get mad at me and tell me not to bother and that she'd just do it instead. As I got into my teens she accused me of doing things badly on purpose so I wouldn't have to do it, when the reality is she just gave up on me and asked me to do things less and less frequently with age. Then at around 16, and ESPECIALLY 18+, she started expecting me to do ALL kinds of things. Saying "you're an adult, you should know this". How? Adults know the things they do because they have experience. I don't. I've had to play such hard catch up for everything I've missed because people (not just my mom) find it easier to not bother with the disabled child.

I'm not saying the man in that video is autistic, or anything else! But what I said brings another point into play: he's an adult and simply doesn't know how to do it. That's a problem! Now why would he be an adult incapable of doing what should be a simple task he should have already learned? He wasn't taught. It reminds me of the guy who got a ton of shit online because his mom did his laundry for him all his life so when he first lived out of the house (I think with a roommate) he had to learn how to do his laundry. He wasn't refusing to do his laundry, he wasn't whining and complaining about it, he was just texting a friend about it. It would be a problem if he didn't bother to learn. If someone is LITERALLY TRYING TO LEARN HOW TO DO SOMETHING it's not weaponized incompetence! I don't care how old they are!

And honestly it does play into the whole "the patriarchy is bad for men too" situation. If a man doesn't know how to do something, such as laundry or cleaning up spills, as an adult because those jobs were always deferred to women, he is now incapable of caring for himself when alone. And then when with someone else, accused of weaponized incompetence when trying to learn by people learning new words to run into the ground. Or once again, maybe it's not a situation where he didn't learn because the women specifically always did the cleaning, he just generally might not have been taught. I don't know!

The very point I'm trying to make is that you can't make those kind of assumptions based off of a short clip, or a picture, of someone doing something poorly. Even if there's a CHANCE it could be weaponized incompetence, it is so BEYOND horrible to go on and on about how it HAS to be weaponized incompetence because no one could be that stupid. It feels awful to be a disabled person seeing people being mocked and called abusers for making the same kind of mistakes you've made. It feels awful to see something, think "oh I've messed that up too", and then see 50 different comments about how it has to be weaponized incompetence because no one could be THAT stupid

Can we please stop forgetting the existence of disabled people and people with generally different life experiences than you, thanks. There's a huge difference between weaponized incompetence and learning (or someone doing the best they can and being physically unable to do things more efficiently because of being disabled)