#there were niches everywhere

[vaguely-concerned]

there's something so real about having read up on a specific period of history enough that you're starting to get your own niche faves. you read or watch anything about tudor england and have that bright blorbo-like moment of 'awww look it's my good good friend french-speaking ambassador to england from the holy roman empire eustace chapuys! <3' recognition

[paperconsumption]

(guy who only looks at popular content voice) why don’t they make niche stuff anymore

[evilminji]

You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?

Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.

Wouldn't you want to share it?

There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.

And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.

People hear about it.

Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.

But like?

Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.

Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.

Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.

It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.

So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*

So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-

YES!

Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-

Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.

Wasn't much of a question, was it?

So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?

You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.

Or BAD ones.

He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.

Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.

And nerdy.

Very, very nerdy.

But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.

Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.

Just feed me, kid.

Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"

..............how magic?

(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[drunktuesdays]

everyone is fucking but no one is horny

one of my twitter friends recently said that if she could order up a fic it would be a story written by someone who has only ever read the classics, 1.5 star trek novelizations, and their mother's romance novels from 1970, written about two people are so out of their minds horny for each other it causes them to make the absolute worst choices anyone's ever made.

and i almost lost my mind laughing because i do know exactly what she means. there is a weird vibe i can sometimes sense within the first few paragraphs a fic that really bums me out. it's almost like i can tell the author is thinking way too much about what i'm thinking about their id and it's suddenly like we're all suddenly wondering how riding a bicycle works when we're mid-ride. when you start worrying too much audience interpretation or how a fic is going to do or play or ugh marketability, it genuinely adds some weird self-conscious distance to whatever you're doing. and it's the pits from the reader side because it removes so much horniness from your story even if the idea you have is genuinely good! i know this is not a niche complaint--you find it literally everywhere as every sector of the creative internet gets #content-ed and people can't escape the stats of how any given creative outlet does.

but god there's literally nothing better than sitting down and reading some freaknasty person's art where they do not give a single shit if you like it. they had something to say and my god they were gonna say it. i've accidentally acquired so many kinks by clicking on a story where someone took me on the most insane ride of my life and i thrilled about it. i don't wanna read about polite normal regular love. i don't wanna read about people using therapy-speak on each other. i wanna read about two people feeling the biggest craziest feelings of their entire life and they cannot do anything about it except bang it out. what else are we doing here? if they're not fucking down an entire house, well jed i don't even wanna read it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for scamming my ex out of an extremely valuable virtual pet?

🐓🥤to recognize. This might be a very long post with a lot of added context for a very niche hobby and a very small actual conflict.

I religiously play a virtual pet site called Chicken Smoothie. It's a pretty old site as far as virtual pet games go, starting back in 2008, so there is a pretty solid established site economy. Just for some context, Every pet on the site has a rarity, ranging from "OMG So Common" to "OMG So Rare", being the most common and most rare respectively. But there are rarities within those rarities, where some OMGSRs can be worth more than others based on species and demand. For example, an OMGSR dog from 2008 will be worth more than an OMGSR rat from 2008 despite being the same highest rarity and year, because people prefer the dogs over rats. These pets can get extremely valuable. You can't sell them for real money (according to site rules, but of course there's a black market), but the site has its own virtual currency you can buy (with real money) and trade for called Chicken Dollars, and you can also trade a valuable pet for other valuable pets. It gets very complicated, with the community coming up with its own set of value terms each pet can have. I'm not getting into specifics there, that's not important.

Every year, on December 18th, CS has gift boxes you can adopt from. These gift boxes can contain any rare pet from any previous year, including special "Unreleased pets" that you can only get from these Dec 18th boxes, with a very slim chance. These unreleased pets are some of the most valuable and rarest in the game.

Recently, I had seen my ex posting on the forums. I didn't know he had an account, he had made it within this year, long after I got the fuck away from him, and I only knew it was him because he uses the same username everywhere. This person had groomed me, physically abused me when we were together (we no longer live anywhere near each other, thankfully) and has always been emotionally manipulative. He does not know I play, and he wouldn't recognize my account as me. I took a note of his account and left it be for a while, until December 18th hit and I took a peek at what he had got. And what he got was one of the new Unreleased pets, which currently at the time of writing this only looks like a box of cereal. (Most pets on the site have growth stages.) And even better, all his groups were open for trade, so I took a chance and sent an extremely terrible trade. I told him that this pet would only be a recent rare, and I offered him a "Very Rare" rarity (but not very valuable) pet from 2018, telling him I was overpaying. (In the CS community, this is known as Ninjaing, and it's Not A Good Thing To Do). I didn't expect him to accept it, I at least thought he'd be smart enough to ask in the trade advice thread that is literally pinned on the home page for December 18th, but he didn't. He took my word for it and accepted the trade, and now I own an unreleased pet that will eventually end up as an OMGSR.

What I did was not a bannable offence. He will not get his unreleased pet back. The CS mods are laughable at worst, incompetent at best, and don't do anything to stop scamming. They have an "eh, sucks to be you, sorry, be smarter next time" mentality when people get scammed (Which is insane because there are literal single digit aged children allowed on this site!!!)

After taking a bit to think about it, I do feel a bit guilty because I really would not do this in any other circumstances. I hate scamming. I did what I did out of anger and contempt, and I do feel a bit guilty because in essence, I scammed a new player that didn't have much else and didn't know any better.

I'm still keeping that unreleased cereal box no matter what though

What are these acronyms?

[inf3ct3dd]

loser!ellie headcanons pt.6

summary: ellieeee my chiquitita my baby my love

warnings: none :3

authors note: ik yall missed herrrr

masterlist. help palestine.🇵🇸

- ellie tries to be soooo cool and wear her cool people jackets (leather jackets, canvas, those carhartt hoodie jackets etc) but they’re very not helpful against the cold and you’ll be out with her and shes just SHIVERING the whole time…

- she’s obsessed w those “general knowledge quizzes” on tiktok. that girl is a hoe for trivia she’s sitting on her bed at three in the morning saying her answers OUT LOUD while she watches them. she gets so upset when she gets literally any wrong… “man…im not a quiz master 🙁”

- ik in the games she walks around with her little journal and shit but i feel like shes definitely jus constantly typing shit in her notes app… random thoughts and jokes and shit that she most definitely shows you at the end of the day

- she barely ever baby talks to babies… she’ll go up to a baby and just be like “wassup dude” and have a full blown conversation with him while the babies just sitting there babbling and giggling at her

- thinks those “im nothing like yall” slideshows r so hilarious…. like you’ll be on the couch and she’s just giggling at her phone at paracetamol 😞

- references the most niche memes ever constantly and literally googles them to explain herself. you guys went camping and she said “boy you want hot dog” and you were like ????

- so strangely particular about how her stuff is arranged 😭 her desk looks like an absolute hot mess 90% of the time but SHE UNDERSTANDS IT and if u try and organize it for her she just puts it back how it was

- always says “guys” and “yall” when she’s talking to literally one person. and CHAT. she just constantly adds it into conversation like “chat how are you today”

- loves asking if things are “fire.” she’ll cook you something and you take a bite and shes like “is that shit fire???” she has to know

- obsessed with “i barely know her” jokes. the second someone says something ending in er shes like “rider??? i barely know her!!” and she’s laughing her ass off

- that girl will go HAM on some mac and cheese. but it can only be really good baked mac or the shitty kraft mac and cheese. she puts like- hella pepper and red chili flakes in it and eats it straight out of the pot 🔥 its always at like three in the morning and you just walk in the kitchen to her with a pot in her lap watching glee or some shit

- SPEAKING. OF. glee is most definitely one of her guilty pleasure shows…like shes rewatched it a million times and glee cast was one of her top artists on apple music wrapped

- shes an apple music user. send tweet.

- got yelled at by an old lady once cuz she picked her flowers out of her front yard and gave them to you

- when i tell you that girl goes ham on those tiny clementines… she’ll eat like 10 in one day and theres just PEELS. EVERYWHERE.

- also she fw grapes heavy. especially green grapes (shes a weird little freak red grapes are so much better)

- OBSESSED WITH THOSE BLIND BAG SHITS. especially mini brands oh my god she definitely has the whole lil grocery store set and she’s so obsessed with it.

- her house slippers are definitely just a pair of crocs with the fur inside and a bunch of stupid ass jibbits. she buys the mega packs off amazon and changes them whenever shes bored

- has SO MANY drafts on tiktok and they’re all her trying filters staring at the screen like 😯

- most annoying person to sleep next to ever . snoring, sleep talking, moving around CONSTANTLY and hitting you accidentally, the only way she sleeps peacefully is if you’re holding her or she’s holding you, otherwise shes insane

- weirdly into linguistics…that girl is using humongous words for no good reason just for fun and half the time she has no idea what they mean and when she googles them and shes right about the definition she does that little fist pump and “fuck yes”

- speaking of. that girl is SPEEDRUNNING DUOLINGO . she’s fluent in (bad spaniard) spanish from it, and just learns random languages for fun. you speak a different language? she’s learning it immediately. definitely leaves notes for you in random languages she learned and you have to pull out a translator to understand wtf shes talking about… she also sleep talks in spanish sometimes and its so funny

- loves trying out different recipes…like i said my girl is a CHEF she will be at home fucking up a salmon bake she made and making you homemade pho for dinner

- had a phase when she was younger when she was really into the la bamba movie and dressed like richie valens for two years

- also cried so hard when she watched selena with you…that girl was devastated 💔 every time she hears “dreaming of you” she almost sheds a tear

“when that yolanda bitch gets out of prison….im shooting someone . its obvious who its gonna be.”

- she definitely begged joel to buy her a gun for christmas and he would take her to the range all the time so she can SHOOT. that girl is goated at lazer tag she gets down…does not play

- thought that candy cigarettes were the coolest thing ever when she was little… everywhere she went she had one hanging out of the side of her mouth and shed hold them between her fingers like they do in movies. if you two go to a candy shop shes for sure buying a pack

[niuniente]

I stumbled upon a BBC recording from 1970, where two women in their 90's were interviewed about their teenage years. These women had been born in 1880's so they were in their teens in 1890's-1900's.

One woman recalled how her brother had seen this weird machine on a shop window, and women working with these machines. It was a typewriter and the place was hiring women to learn how to type with it. She also was bicycling a lot in her teens, and told a story how she once accidentally drove into a policeman. She and her friends were summoned to a court and fined 5 shillings each for this preposterous activity. The magistrate has been most horrified and disgusted that these young women hadn't been horse riding but bicycling when this collision happened!

It was amazing to hear. These women has gone such a huge jump in development of society and technologies from 1880 to 1970! I can't remember where I heard it but when we look back at time, humanity globally has advanced between 1900-2000 as much as in the previous 5000 years.

These ladies had seen the dawn of electricity; the very first electric cars and horse-pulled handsome cabs turning into busses, taxes and cars; Titanic; two world wars; suffragette movement fighting for women's rights and women getting these rights; the Wright brother's first plane and it leading to commercial flights and eventually to the moon landing; rise and falls of nations in Europe and changes on European map; the changes in workplaces and work place regulations; the development of radio; the whole history of TV; the fast changing clothing styles by each decade; the invention of plastic. They were born just 4 years after a telephone was patented in 1876.

I'm a pre-internet era child. Pre-mobile phone era child. I can recall when news told how this thing called internet is now open and how we predict it to become important. I can tell how huge difference mobile phones, emails, internet, video services, art programs etc. have done to the world. I'm every day grateful for the internet and technology because it was brought me to all I dreamed of and wanted as a child. Endless amounts of movies, comic, pictures, information, connections to everywhere in the world, exploration. Niche books and stuff I could never even see in my whole life without internet! In a need of a certain character reference? Just google it! Want to see that particular scene from a movie or a game? Go to internet, it's there!

And yet, I can never experience the same gigantic jumps as these 1890's teenagers did.

[peachyloveswriting]

hello!! I absolutely love your writing especially of COD, I’ve been reading so many of them now

I was wondering if I could request some headcanons? Of König, Ghost and Soap and they react to an s/o who likes to take care of them. Like the s/o likes to cook for them, wash their hair or do face masks. Basically acts of service as a love language

Feel free to ignore this if it’s not to your liking and have a wonderful day/night!

CARING --- (König, Ghost, and Soap)

SUMMARY: just some funny ideas for the boys.

CONTENT: cuteness

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

KÖNIG

-> Being in the military, König does the bare minimum required to take care of himself. He thinks it's enough to get by but he's noticed that anytime he's home with you, you have other plans. You're always pestering him about being more careful and having some self preservation. He never seems to listen though but he's trying his best to cater to that.

-> Being off base, König likes to sleep in. These plans also seem to be ruined because you're always dragging him to take a shower with you, you'll sit him down and wash his hair, he's not complaining about that though m he lives the feeling of your hands working across his head and body. If you're not taking a shower you're forcing him to put on a face mask with you. He doesn't like it because was little facial hair he has is ripped off. Poor man can never seem to catch a break.

-> He has horrible dry skin, especially on his hands. You'll sit him down on the couch and make him put on lotion. You'll even apply it himself which he doesn't mind in the slightest. As a matter of fact he loves when you treat him like a princess. Especially when he wakes up in the morning to a fresh plate waiting for him. Though he feels like he's not giving you enough in return and he tries his best to do just that. He'll try to buy you things without you knowing but he's not very good with keeping it a secret. He'll ask you what you prefer and you immediately know what's up.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

GHOST

-> Ghost is not a man for personal hygiene, let's be honest. He hardly showers, he doesn't take care of himself like he should be. That very quickly changed when you came around. Suddenly 15 minute showers once a week became 30 minute showers every other day. He loves the feeling of your hands scrubbing away at his hair while he leans into your touch. You're so gentle with him that sometimes he asks you so press harder.

-> This man knows close to nothing about face masks, however he go curious one morning while you were applying yours and asked what they even did. Instead of actually explaining them you just slapped one on him and sent him on his way. He literally was so confused, he had no idea what he was supposed to do but after you took it off he felt so clean. He honestly asked to do it again.

-> Simon absolutely loves looking, he's got amazing cooking skills. Its like he has a niche for it. However he finds you often shoving him out of the way to cook for him. He doesn't mind it but he finds it rather surprising that you would rather cook than him. He likes it though, you're enthusiasm to baby him. He seems to pay your back in strange ways, returning the favor by leaving you small endearing notes everywhere.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

SOAP

-> Let's be honest, Soap loves being pampered however he feels like there's an imbalance unless he pays you back. It's like food wars when you cook for him. If you make him breakfast he makes you this bomb ass desert after dinner that leaves you begging for more. You can't ever have a moment of relaxation if it's cooking because it's a one up game at this point.

-> If you take a shower with him and wash his hair for him he's immediately returning the favor. In an instant he's washing your hair and body, he even applies face masks to you first so that way you feel special. If he feels that's not enough he'll take you out to dinner somewhere nice.

-> He thoroughly enjoys facemasks because they leave him feeling fresh everytime, so you can always find him right beside you doing the same thing. It's like your own bonding activity that you've begun. Anytime he does this on base and Ghost catches him he makes fun of him, which usually ends with Soap giving this man a lot of Scottish curses he's never heard before, other people swear he's placing a curse in him.

[bloodykora]

Thonking hard about Buggy and long haired Buggy especially. Like I don’t mind the stylistic choice in the LA but maaaaan, maaaaaaaan. There’s the obvious stuff like playing with his long hair and braiding it but my mind keeps going back to Head!Buggy and you and it’s just a bit of time to kill before you get anywhere and you were honestly just supposed to watch him so he doesn’t get snatched up by a seagull and something and you both agree this doesn’t mean ANYTHING (he’s gonna develop a soft spot for you and ONLY you out of all the straw hats immediatly), but it’s so damn boring out here and you have some hairties you found somewhere and just… You using Buggy’s head like a hairstyling toy and just braiding it for him or putting it into little buns, clipping it out of his face so it doesn’t get into his eyes etc.

Sanji passes you once and is about to say something but Buggy just gives him a glare that’s all „Got something funny to say punk?“ and he just shakes his head and moves on.

(You forget one tie in there before he reuinites with his body. A simple little thing with two skull beads. He initially keeps it because he actually feels it suites his style but he developes a fondness for this little thing in particular that he doesn’t allow himself to think about for to long)

This is so much longer then I thought it would be so I'm putting it under read more but like yes.

- No cause I absolutely agree, love his long gorgeous hair. I like to think his hair isn’t thin either, its a good mix of thickness but not to the point of curly. He’s got the nice ‘wave’ going. Did you know that in his hat, there are small braids in the hair coming out of it in the LA.

- It didn’t take long for Buggy to start complaining about the heat and it didn’t take you long to get fed up with his complaints

- You kept looking at how his blue hair kept draping over the side of the barrel he was on, and how his bandana has not moved a inch since he was taken out of the bag on the ship

- "Let me do your hair." "No." "Let’s continue then to sit in almost complete silence, would you like to play cards? Oh, wait. You have no hands. What about I Spy? I spy something blue."

- Just making fun of the his situation until he caves in to let you, he says to stop your whining but in reality he could really use the scalp massage

- Putting a crate behind the barrel or something so you can sit and do it. It’s softer than you had thought it would be, and you could see small braids near his bottom layers.

- "Did you do these?" "Huh? I can’t really see the back of my head, you gotta be more descriptive." Holding one of them out for him to see. "Oh yeah, adds a nice touch to the hat when I’m performing!"

- The shed though, his hair would shed so much. You’d be pulling blue hair strands out of your clothes for the rest of time. And they’d get everywhere on the ship too.

- You could hear him sigh in relief when you first start brushing through it, and you felt relieved knowing those knots have been eradicated.

- First thing you do is just a little bun so his neck could get some fresh air for once and then it evolves into the craziness.

- Buns, pigtails, high and low ponys, 1 braid, 2 braids, fishtails, french, dutch, braiding 2 pieces and then wrapping it around his forehead like a crown. Favourite would be doing 2 french braids at the top of his head til it's the bottom and then putting the hair tie there so it becomes a fancy low pigtail.

- "I can't believe how pretty you are with your hair, not very fair to the rest of us good sir." You joke out, meaning it though. "I've always been pretty!" You snort at his reply not knowing how warm his face had started feeling.

- Every pirate has a niche collection, yours? Your hair pin collection. To die for. You have been collecting hair clips and such for this exact occasion. Butterflies, wooden, yellow, purple, bobby pins, bows, ribbons, flowers. The whole works.

- Buggy even thinks about asking you to join his crew just for your hair decoration skills.

- One time you even trim his dead ends for him, and some of his front pieces to frame his face more.

- He got so used to it that if you didn’t approach him with a brush in hand first thing in the morning that he would start asking for you saying how he needed his royal brushing. (He’s totally not worried at all sometimes when you take too long, ha that would be. Ahem.)

- Sometimes he’d even doze off, but would swear he was just resting his eyes.

- A few times someone would stop to glance at you two but never intervene, except Luffy. He was always in awe. Sanji had voiced his concerns for you but never says anything in front of Buggy, you could never see but the two men were death staring each other every time they passed.

- Word spreads through the crew and even though none of them had long enough hair to do or in Usopp’s case, has been doing it himself this whole time. They do come to ask for little clips here and there, Luffy wanting one for the string on his hat so he has something to fidget with, (Nami wanting some to wear with her different outfits later on), Usopp wondering where you got heart ones so he could get one for Kaya, even Zoro wondering if you had one he could wear for Kuina’s memory on special occasions.

-You knew you were nearing Coco village, you had overheard Buggy talking to Usopp about it. How they should be there within the day. You settle for a low bun that curls up right beneath his cap.

- "No beads today?" "Well there is some on the tie but you can’t see it, I was thinking that it would be a more relaxed day. I got some stuff to do around the ship."

- Everyone is so caught up in Nami that by the time things have cooled down you realize he’s gone, no more blue hair to twirl around your fingers.

- The clown realizes too, fiddling with the tie in his hands. Burying the longing deep down, hoping he never sees you again but praying he might get a glance of you once more. He takes it out if he knows he’s about to raid somewhere to avoid breaking it.

- Tears apart his quarters if he misplaces it, someone has almost lost a hand because it fell off a table. 

[thatdeadaquarius]

AI used on my story. Wow.

Well, it happened.

I guess they're talking about the AI mention I put in my summary for the story.

Because you know. I don't want my shit I've worked on for hours stolen. Like my writing of thousands of words and my multiple illustrations. Imagine. I'm so crazy for not wanting that. /s

I can't believe they were so fucking pissy abt that little detail they literally stole my work and now it's in an AI somewhere/everywhere.

With no credit or anything to me or my hard work writing it. I spent hours on this. I like Genshin and this niche AU enough to explore it and this is the feedback I fucking get.

Because someone had to like be political about AI??

Like literally just one hurt bastard who has probably never written more than a paragraph in their life, so now they gotta ruin shit for me and everyone else. Keep your miserable life to yourself. Or y'know.

Log off.

Also the catus tears comment? Dude get more creative. Oh shit sorry that's probably why you're so horny for AI.

ALSO NOT THEM DOING THIS FOR A GENSHIN READER INSERT FANFIC

Im sorry u obv kno i love this genre, i mean its my fanfic, but BRO 💀

Welp if it's literally going to make my story a target, then I guess I'll take it out for now.

This has seriously made me consider outright deleting this work. And that's something I never wanted to do to a fanfic if i ever wrote some. I was planning to just orphan it or smth instead if it ever came to that. But shit like this makes me wanna reconsider...

^^^ Well more like not continuing it i mean, but dont worry ill keep going if for nothing else to let them know im still writing abt genshin

I'm turning off guest comments for now. And leaving that one as a comment of shame.

Wish I could pin it tbh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Safe Travels in these dark times guys,

💀♒️

[notyourhetloki]

human after all (Rust Cohle x Reader)

Reader: she/her

/NSFW Rust Cohle x Fem!Reader/

A/N: Hellooo how are you guys doing? Look, I decided to write about a more niche character this time: Rust Cohle from True Detective. There ain’t many x reader fics about him so I decided to give it a go! My writing’s not the best, English is not my native language and Rust is a hell of a complex guy… so take it easy on me, ok? His characterization might be ooc. With that being said, it’s good to be back! Requests will be open soon ;)

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), pinning, slow burn, probably ooc, unprotected sex, piv sex

Word Count: 4k

—

As a secretary in your local police station, your days were filled with calls and lots of paperwork. The occasional chit-chat with coworkers made the hours go by quicker, and you were thankful for that.

You always made coffee, offering a mug to whoever agent was closer... and that would usually mean Martin.

"Sugar?" Asking with a grin, you watched as he sat next to his coworker.

"Yes, dear. As sweet as that smile of yours." He flirted playfully. You were used to it by that point, but deep down you wished the advances came from his colleague instead...

You knew Rust Cohle, but mostly through others. Knew that he was an intellectual with a not-so-bright vision of life, that he was particularly unconventional in the field and didn't have many (if any) friends. All that and you still found yourself having a crush on him... how promising.

Not your fault the man's as handsome as can be. Solid, looking like he could have been chiseled from stone aside from his soft honey-colored hair. Strong features, nose, jaw... Astonishingly tall, muscular arms, big hands... Yet his eyes had a frail quality to them, avoident but observing every single little detail everywhere, all at once. His stoic demeanor didn't frighten you, only pulled you closer, closer...

The next day you decided to be brave... dressed in new clothes, put on perfume and went to work looking extra good. He'd have to acknowledge you at some point...

Arriving at the office, you prepared coffee as usual, pouring it into two mugs that time, only one containing sugar.

You walked to their desk and served Rust first. "Black? I assumed..." He looked... surprised. It'd been ages since you served him coffee, mostly because he didn't ask for it and you didn't want to bother him. "Yes, (Y/N). Thank you."

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard your name coming out of his mouth, and smiling like a fool you served Martin his own coffee.

"Thank you, darling. Is that a new skirt? Looks good on you." You smoothed your palms on the fabric over your thighs and noticed Rust looking at them, eyes fixated on your nervous fingers. After a few seconds, his eyes flickered to yours momentarily, sending butterflies to your stomach. "Y-Yes, thank you, Martin."

As you left, you tried your best to suppress a smile. Had he finally noticed you? What did he think? Would you ever be able to decipher any of that man's thoughts?

A few days went by with your routine set like that: You would arrive, make coffee, serve Rust then Martin, go back to work. Rust would occasionally look at you, and Martin would always flirt. You fed from Rust's looks alone but tried your best not to seem eager, always maintaining some distance... you didn't want to harass him.

It had been a long shift at work, Rust had given you a good up-and-down stare that burned at your chore, finally starting to get comfortable with your presence. He even called you 'dear' at some point, gaining a sincere smile from you. The day would've been perfect if it weren't for your car breaking down, leaving you dependent on public transportation.

You sat at the bus stop waiting, when suddenly a red pickup truck pulled over next to you. The last thing you expected was for Cohle to emerge from the vehicle, cigarette in hand while opening the passenger door and signaling for you to come in.

"I'll give you a ride." He demanded nonchalantly, not even looking at you while inhaling the fumes. Shocked and pleasantly surprised, you felt heat rising to your cheeks as you got up and closer to him.

"Oh, Rust! Thank you..." You managed to say while entering the car, not wanting to miss that opportunity. You felt optimistic, but still wondered why on earth did he have that initiative.

He closed your door and went on to sit next to you, he was so close... he smelled like smoke and wood.

The drive to your home was silent, other than the country music on the radio. He pulled over at the front of the apartment complex you lived in, and you had an idea. "Would you like to go inside? I have a couple of beers left in my fridge." You shyly offered, and after a couple of seconds of him seeming to consider it, he slowly nodded yes, getting out of the car and following you to your door.

You couldn't believe what was happening, Rust Cohle was in your home, the both of you alone together. You hoped the alcohol wouldn't make a fool out of you.

As you handed him his beer, you locked eyes for a brief second as his fingers brushed yours, you blushed and hoped he didn't notice.

"So, how’s the case? Any progress?" Rust didn't seem the type to enjoy small talk, but you tried your best to make this less awkward and actually get to know him a bit better.

He seemed pensive, looking down at his beer as he swirled it around.

"We’re workin' on it… as much as it allows us to." His voice a deep monotone tune. Cohle looked almost defeated, tired like he held the weight of the world on his back... maybe he did.

You didn't want to remind him of that weight, so decided to try something a little more bold.

"Alright, enough with the morbid work stuff, huh? What do you like to do for fun?" You asked innocently, always looking at him to see his reactions... he didn't reciprocate.

Rust looked amused enough though, swirling his drink as the corner of his mouth twitched into a millisecond of a smirk. "I drink."

"More of a stay-at-home kind of guy, I see… me too. Other than the occasional out dancing with friends." You confessed, hoping it would get something out of him.

"You like dancing?" He finally looked up but never dared to look at your eyes. Instead, he glanced in the direction of your neck. "Dancing’s a good distraction."

"Distraction?" You found that funny somehow, so you smiled as you hid a strand of hair behind your ear. "From what?"

"Whatever this is." He gestured to the air, wondering about life.

You felt for him, felt for his pain and grief. You wanted to get to know it, get to know the way he thinks and the reasons behind it.

"What’s your distraction? Beer?" You'd say, his striking eyes never leaving the pendant on your neck.

"Pretty much. Although I don’t find myself as distracted as I’d like to be."

Finally, Cohle let out a sigh through his nose and flicked his eyes toward yours. You held the contact for as much as you could, but his piercing eyes had an effect on you, like he was stripping you naked with his pupils.

Hot and bothered it was your time to look away, taking a sip of your beer as you searched for a place for your eyes to set... they settled on his shoes.

"You’re probably wondering why the hell you’re here with me n' not out with your friends dancing." His voice came as a surprise, filling the room with his presence and exposing the fact he cared at least minimally for the situation. He didn't want to bore you, and that weighed on your chest.

"I like your company, Rust." You admitted, soft-spoken. Gathering the courage to look up, you found his eyes hovering on your lips, so you continued.

"It’s… calm. There’s a soothing quality to it, makes it easy for me to trust you."

He blinked once, twice, then closed his eyes to gulp his beer, finishing it. Rust seemed to get lost in thought for a few moments, before realizing you were there again. He slowly came over to you, handing you his empty bottle before almost whispering. "Thanks for the beer."

You smiled, your hands touching again. You shuddered at the contact that lingered one too many seconds that time. His eyes were on you now, and you tried your best to keep it that way.

"Thanks for the ride." You ran your fingers through your own hair, and Rust's gaze followed your hand as you did so. He swallowed before settling for your eyes again, holding eye contact. It looked like it felt difficult, like his life depended on it.

"Anytime..." His voice softer. You drank the last of your beer while maintaining the stare, some deep urge in you waking up with every passing second. You wanted him, God you wanted him.

Moments went by and the silence was interrupted by his voice once again. "I think I should get goin'." Part of you wanted him to stay, the other part didn't want to seem desperate.

You gently nodded, a quiet "Ok." leaving your mouth. "I'm here if you ever need anything, Rust."

He offered a quick and sweet half-smile which you gladly retributed.

Fidgeting with your pendant, you guided him to the door, where he leaned over for a final farewell.

"G'night, (Y/N)." His voice was gentle now, almost caring. But you didn't want to assume he felt anything at that point.

"Goodnight, Rust."

You went to sleep that night thinking about him, remembering how close he was to you, his smell, his voice... his avoidant eyes caught yours just a few times but it was enough, at least for you.

The next day, Cohle looked rugged. His tired expression more evident than usual, even Martin commented on it. "Damn, Rust... do you ever sleep?"

To which he replied. "I don't sleep, I dream." Well, that explained at least half of the reason for his demeanor. Yet you sensed that there was something more to it, something he was keeping secret.

When serving Rust his morning coffee, he didn't look at you. You found that odd, fearing you might have offended him the night before... but in the end, you brushed it off as him just being tired.

Pondering for reasons why Cohle had been so dreadful that day, you finished work and headed home with the man never leaving your thoughts. Something was going on, and you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

At your apartment, you decided to take a shower and change into some shorts and a baggy T-shirt before starting to prepare dinner. As you were finishing, you heard the doorbell ring. What a weird time for a visitor, it was late already.

You opened the door carefully to see a defeated Rust, there was a certain desperation in his face, something urgent you couldn't quite read. "I brought beer." He offered pathetically.

To be surprised was an understatement, you never expected Cohle to show up, much less in that state. It rendered you speechless but in a good way... if something was bothering him, he at least trusted you enough to come over and share a drink.

He was still in his work clothes, but the first three buttons of his shirt were undone, his tie loose around his neck. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was not as tightly combed through as usual, he looked like a handsome mess.

Urging him to come in, you grabbed the beers and closed the door. You opened two bottles and handed his to him, not caring as much for the momentary touch. You were worried, wanted to help him release all that baggage, to release something.

"So, what are you trying to distract yourself from today? Besides work, of course." You requested softly, a small considerative smile across your face as you referenced the conversation from the night before.

"My programming." He looked down as if in shame, thumb drawing circles on his beer lip. He was confessing to you, and you needed to make sure you understood him.

"What do you mean by that?" You moved yourself to face him completely now, resting on your kitchen counter next to him.

Rust seemed contemplative, looking up to the ceiling as he fidgeted with his bottle. He breathed in and out, taking his time.

"We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self; an accretion of sensory, experience and feeling, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody is nobody. Better to just deny our basic programming and move on with our meaningless lives until extinction." He kept looking up, and you wondered why he averted your eyes at that point. Was he... nervous? You couldn't come up with a reasonable answer.

Ignoring most of the morbid absurd take, you focused on what related to him, and hoped he went with it.

"Deny what makes us human?" You inquired, purposely looking at him with the intent to catch his gaze.

"Exactly." That answer got to you, he couldn't possibly believe that he was above humanity, right? He certainly seemed to... maybe that was the reason behind his apparent guilt.

"But you are a man, Rust. Programming and whatnot, you have goals, ambitions, desires…" You grew closer, then. Close enough to touch, and how you wanted to touch... to prove to him how alive he was.

"Our desires can become our owners. They paralyze us and dictate the way we go, spoiling our brains." Cohle slowly looked down, eyes meeting your neck once again. He seemed interested in your words, appreciating he had at least someone to talk to.

"Or they can lead us to good fulfilling experiences… you can’t predict the consequences, Cohle. Can’t predict if the bad outweighs the good or not."

You were met with silence. His thumb no longer fretting with the bottle, his eyes no longer on your neck... He looked at your lips, then your nose, your eyes, as if to memorize every detail, as if he was going to lose you.

"They can ruin us." A whisper through his half-open mouth. The low kitchen light reflecting off his angled face... he looked beautiful.

"What’s ruining you, Rust?" You inched even closer, now directly in front of him. You could breathe the same air as him, felt the weight of it. His eyes lingered on yours for the first time that night. "What is it?" The words left your mouth like honey, sweet and smooth.

After a few seconds, his gaze lowered to your lips, to your neck, to your lips again. He was fragile, then, like fine china. He blinked his half-lidded eyes many times before talking lowly, barely a whisper. "You smell good. You... look good."

Your heart had already been racing that whole time, but now seemed like it would stop completely at any second. Rust Cohle wanted you, and it was eating him alive.

To be the reason for his undoing was an honor, but you would never do anything to hurt him. You wanted to make him feel good, wanted to cherish and love him... you wondered if he would ever let himself feel loved.

"I’m not going to ruin you." A gentle reasoning left your lips, making his eyes meet yours once again. Rust then lifted his beer towards you to make his next point.

"You don’t know that. You can't predict the consequences, can you?" Your own words used against you, but it was not going to work so easily.

"There’s only one way to find out. Or would you rather ruminate that thought until it spoils?"

Silence once again, you had rendered him speechless... a small personal victory you could brag about later. You grabbed his bottle from his hand and placed it alongside yours on the counter, making so his full attention was on you.

Rust looked at your eyes longingly, full of raw emotion. That proved your point even further, he was only human after all.

"What does your programming want from me today, Rust?" You cautiously dared to place a gentle hand on the side of his cheek, circling your thumb to caress his warm skin. Afraid of him retrieving, your touch trembled... but he remained still.

Instead, he took his time to savor the touch, blinking slowly and relaxed. You sighed in relief as you realized you could stand like that for hours, loving the way he seemed to actually enjoy it.

But by the time you knew it, he was holding you by the waist. Barely a touch, almost hovering his hands over your body, as if you were going to fade away. He was staring at your mouth then, inching closer until he stopped a few inches from your face, contemplating.

You couldn't hold yourself back, softly closing the distance between you in a chaste kiss on his lips. Slow, careful as to not disturb him.

Your heart drummed in your chest, you could hear it reverberating in your ears. His chapped lips were warm and he tasted like alcohol, but oh how you had dreamed of that moment. You wanted to be surrounded by him, engulfed in his scent and his taste and his skin.

He was still for a few more moments before reciprocating, stiff at first. He seemed nervous.

Wanting to help, you held his face with both hands, anchoring him. Guiding him through as you deepened the kiss, you gradually slid your tongue inside his mouth and waited for his next move.

That made something click within him, like a switch that had been long neglected. Both of his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you even closer tight to his chest. His tongue found a rhythm alongside yours, making you moan in return. God, he was a good kisser... deep and intense like everything else about him.

You parted shortly to breathe and he took the opportunity to plant kisses down your jaw, your neck... hungry and full of need.

Rust then stopped with his lips touching the curve of your neck, like he was hesitant for a second. He breathed deeply through his nose, thinking.

"We won't do anything you don't want to do, Rust." You reminded him, worried that you might have crossed a line. Maybe he needed more time?

That thought fell flat after his hand grabbed yours, guiding your palm as it slid over his torso down his belly... down... down.

His hand led yours to palm his erection through his pants, feeling the heat emanate through the fabric... gosh he was so hard already. You couldn't actually believe you had that effect on him, it felt too good.

"Gosh, Rust... Can- Can I...?" You stuttered while trying to maintain a thought process, his quick response was a muted "Yeah." while still holding his head against your neck.

You slowly undid his belt, then. And even slower reached for his penis inside his pants. Pulling his dick out, you licked your hand before curling around the length of him, stroking him slackly. He looked delicious, the feeling and the vision of his shaft in your hand enough to make you wet.

You could feel him shudder, breathing strongly through his nose. Rust didn't make a sound besides the sharp inhales and shaky exhales. He seemed focused, holding you for dear life.

"I want you, Rust... wanted you for so long." You managed to speak, confessing your deepest secret. His head then lifted to meet your gaze, looking at you deep into your eyes. He saw into you, present like he never had been before.

"How long?" His voice raspy with desire, your hand still working on his cock leisurely as you spoke. "Since you first called my name."

His eyes grew darker, full of need. Eyes on you, your mouth... he had wanted you too, you knew that then.

"Kiss me, Rust..." A tremulous request that he answered immediately, mouths crashing into a deep, desperate kiss. Your hand stroked harder, faster, and he only breathed.

His hands slid down your shorts past your waist to your ass, grabbing soft skin. You hummed in approval, making him tremble. He took your shorts completely off then, along with your panties.

His fingers soon found your aching sex, digits moving in circles on your clit as his other hand continued to grope your ass cheek.

You moaned in Rust's mouth, sensations overwhelmingly good. His fingers working you so well your legs shook in anticipation. It was heavenly, having him in your hand as he kissed and grabbed you like that, nothing could have prepared you for it.

You soon came on his fingers, hard and loud. You shook your orgasm away as Cohle looked at your face, admiring your satisfaction.

"Fuck, (Y/N)..." He said under his breath, taking one then two digits up your pussy, curling them and reaching a sweet spot.

You closed your eyes at the sensation, feeling like you could cry as you rolled your hips to follow his movements... he hummed in approval.

"Rust, please, I need you..." You practically cried out. "Need more..."

His fingers pumped inside you a few more times before he was ready to let go, moving his now soaked digits to your mouth. You sucked on them, tasting yourself. His hungry eyes devouring you.

"Bend over the counter, girl." He ordered quietly, and before you obliged you took off your T-shirt, leaving you bare before him.

Rust admired your form as his breath seemed to catch at the vision. He licked his lips before grabbing one of your breasts with his big hand, massaging the soft delicate tissue of your nipple. You whined before you propped yourself in the position he wanted.

Bending over with your exposed ass up, he moved to stand behind you, caressing the skin of your back.

Rust positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly made his way in. Easy at first, but quickly building up momentum. His hips slapped into yours, harder with each thrust as you moaned his name out loud. The delicious stretch he gave you drove you crazy, you rolled your hips to meet him halfway and he grunted in response, finally not being able to hold back his noises.

"Wanted you... since I first saw you, (Y/N)... Fuck, I- I needed you."

He needed you. He needed you. You couldn't help repeating those words again and again. Rust Cohle needed you, your presence, your body... and you would gladly give it to him.

He fucked you harsh and good, grabbing at your waist hard enough to leave bruises... you hoped he did. With every thrust you moaned more, mewling his name out loud. His groans dominated the whole room while directly making their way down your aching cunt.

As his pace began to get erratic, you knew he was close. "Cum inside me, Rust... please..." You pleaded.

He suddenly grabbed you by the neck then, inching you even closer. His head rested on the hollow of your shoulder as he made his final moves before cumming, spilling his load inside of you with a growl.

When he finally released his grip, you thanked the counter for supporting your weight. You turned around to face Rust, and he was glowing with sweat, breathing deeply through his nose again.

Feeling cum dripping down your legs, you drew closer to him shyly. You didn't exactly know what to do, so you planted a kiss on his lips and hugged him, expecting him to pull back quickly... he didn't.

Holding you like that for what seemed like ages, Rust's breathing got quieter and slower. He was calm then, and that made your heart swirl with emotion.

When you felt like you could retrieve, you did so looking him in his eyes and holding the sides of his face. He looked so pretty like that, vulnerable... soft, even.

"Would you like to stay over? I made dinner..." You offered, and his gentle smile made you swoon. He held you close still, not ready to let go just yet.

"Dinner sounds nice."

That night, Rust Cohle slept without having any dreams.

—

[gallusrostromegalus]

Hinamori can drive? How did that come about? Is she a "must follow all the rules" driver or a "hold on for dear life" driver?

Momo's posting in the living world was in a more rural area and she got started driving her neighbor's tractor for him when he got hurt and she was bored, and then the farm truck and that was FUN on the little mountain roads, so she went and got a driver's license and managed to scrape together enough cash to buy her neighbor's 20 year old P.O.S. compact, and in the span of four months went from "what's a car?" To getting heavily into maybe-not-totally-legal vehicular modifications and earning herself the nickname "Peaches The Freak" on the illicit mountain rally racing circuit for "driving like she can't die".

She didn't actually tell anyone this when she got back to soul society because she was a bit embarrassed to be so enthusiastic about such a niche interest, so nobody finds out about HOW Momo drives until she's in the human world with her boss and her co-lieutenant, and they need to transport a large number of small objects at speed and the most reasonable way to do that is in the back of a car.

"what do you MEAN you don't know how to drive? Momo gapes at Shinji and Hiyori. "You were in the living world for a whole century?!"

"THEY GOT TRAINS EVERYWHERE IT DIDN'T COME UP!" Hiyori shouts. "ITS NOT LIKE YOU KNOW EITHER!"

"No, I do." Explains Momo, getting into the driver's seat of a Subaru old enough to vote. "That's why it's so strange to me."

"SHOTGUN!" Bellowed Hiyori, leaping into the passenger seat. "Okay, it's a little weird that *I* don't know how to drive, I guess, but do you really want mirror image dingus back there out driving on the wrong side of the road, do you?"

"I'm sure he'd get the hang of it eventually!" Said Momo. "Okay, seatbelts everyone! -and gas, mirrors, seat adjustment- who was driving this car, captain Komamura? Okay, check for cops-"

"What's a seatbelt?" Asked Shinji from the backseat.

"-and we're clear!" Momo said, putting her foot down and accelerating at a speed that made the buildings stretch and streak by like they were about to enter hyperspace.

One hour and six minutes later, they reached their destination, having reached a top speed of 193 mph, Hiyori discovering the female version of a terrorboner, and Shinji discovering what it feels like to be a lone sock in the washing machine during the spin cycle.

[marlynnofmany]

Finger Talking

Captain Sunlight had said that these clients didn’t speak any trade language she’d ever learned, and as I caught sight of the two intelligent being who looked like the end result of what happens if hummingbirds nudge into anteaters’ ecological niche, I didn’t find that hard to believe.

They were green-feathered, flightless birds, with long beaks, longer tongues, and clawed feet dexterous enough to type out messages on the big keyboard they had laid out on the ground. It looked like the kind of thing I would have danced on as a kid. I pretended that I wasn’t imagining doing that now, as the shorter of the two sent a message onto the display screen that they wanted to haggle.

Mur stepped forward, tapping my ankle with a tentacle to say he had it covered. “Oh, you want to pay more? Double price, please.”

The beaky birds were of course grumpy about this. The short one typed quickly in a fashion that I was amused to realize was hunt-and-peck.

I looked down at Mur, who was cheerfully braiding grass with two tentacles, and waving several others like he was conducting an invisible squid orchestra. He was enjoying himself.

The screen beeped that the message was ready. It read, “We know our rocks are valuable to you. Ten barrels of your rocks for each barrel of our rocks.”

Okay, I hadn’t actually known the price that had been set ahead of time for this little exchange. These folks didn’t use standard currency, so when they sent out a request via random traveler for someone to bring them coal — something that was scarce their planet — in trade for shiny rocks that they had in abundance, Captain Sunlight had gone for it.

And if the rough gemstones bedazzling the cart that these birds had come in were any sign, we were about to make a very good deal no matter what the exchange rate was.

Mur said, “Two for one is already pretty generous. I’ll raise it to three, how about that?”

The birds conferred with each other briefly, making noises that echoed like someone trilling their tongue down a long tube — which was a pretty accurate description of what was happening, really. The short one typed in a reply.

I caught a glimpse of “8 for 1” before the alien technology did what technology everywhere does best: it failed unexpectedly. The screen spasmed wild patterns before going dark, and no amount of punching the keys made it light up again.

“Hm,” Mur said to me. “This could put a crimp in things. Maybe we should call Coals or Trrili?”

“They mostly do written translation,” I said. “And Trrili doesn’t strike me as the tactful sort.”

Mur twirled a tentacle to say I’d made a good point, while the birds tried to revive their tech with no luck. “I guess we just throw out numbers until we hit on something they look happy with,” he said. “This is going to be rough.”

“It shouldn’t be too bad,” I said. “At least they’ve learned the language, even though they can’t speak it. Honestly, I’ve had worse conversations before my vet training covered Gorilla Sign Language.”

He looked up at the unfamiliar word. “Nationality?”

“Species. Long story. Remind me to tell you about Citizen Animals on Earth.”

The birds were starting to disassemble the keyboard casing, using their claws like precision tools (though the tall one gave me the impression that more vigorous smashing was an eagerly-anticipated Plan B). They looked up when I stepped forward, holding up fingers.

“Five for one.” I flicked the fingers one at a time to count. “Five of ours, for one of yours.”

They caught on immediately, and luckily for all of us, they had the right number of talon-fingers to make this primitive conversation work.

Mur was no help, standing two steps back and holding up excessive numbers of tentacles, entertaining only himself. The birds and I managed to ignore him.

We settled on seven-for-one. I could have pushed for six, but I felt bad for them, and anyway I knew that we had the coal already portioned out into fourteen crates. The math was easier this way.

As we walked back toward the ship, to start bringing out the crates that Blip and Blop were unloading at the door, Mur chuckled beside me. “That was fun. I want to come up with ways to communicate like that more. Maybe cheating at table games.”

“I’d offer to teach you some actual sign language,” I said, “But everything I know is designed with fingers in mind.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need proper language to beat the scales off Eggskin. C’mon, it’ll be great. I’ll win several rounds in a row, they’ll get annoyed and demand to know how, I’ll explain, then refuse to give any winnings back. Perfect plan. Great times.”

I had to smile at that. “We’ll see,” I said. “First let’s finish the actual business.”

“Yep, yep, can’t forget that,” Mur agreed. “Maybe we’ll play table games with expensive rocks as tokens, like the high-society snobs we all are.”

“Sounds like great times to me,” I said.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[headspace-hotel]

invasive species are interesting to me actually because the more I learn about them the more I'm realizing that ultimately, the goal with getting rid of invasive species is to mitigate their damaging effects to stop them from causing extinctions during existing strain on ecosystems

(in contrast to fully eliminating them because that's not happening)

What's the long-term goal? Hard to say. I think the only way is for them to learn to behave and be a part of the ecosystem. Which happens too slowly for us to see it now, but I think it likely will happen. Controlling them right now is important, but the aim isn't exactly to eventually perfectly restore a previous state of existence

It's...really interesting to see how very recent ecological changes have resulted in organisms slotting themselves into new niches and re-arranging how they do things. The Amur honeysuckle, bane of my existence, behaves differently in eastern US forests than it does in its native range—lots of honeysuckles in the US become more like trees rather than bushes, up to 25 or 30 feet tall. Why? Why is their behavior so different?

Anyway, I was thinking yesterday about how the ash trees that were devastated by the emerald ash borer are still everywhere. They just don't get more than 10-15 years old before the ash borer gets them.

But right now, these small ash trees are functioning as shrubs and bushes. The ones I've been noticing have an oddly "shrubby" growth habit, with lots of twigs and stems in a thicket close to the ground. There's one in my back yard and it's like...a bush. And as far as I know, these trees could continue to exist and reproduce like this indefinitely.

If we don't control the ash borer, does that mean the ash trees die out, or does it mean they change into something else? Are they already changing into something else??????

[xakuprime-4]

God this community is so fucking split.

I feel bad for everyone that just wants to enjoy Destiny or wants to get into destiny, everywhere you go it's people complaining about metas, asking for things to come back and immediately 180 into hating the devs for bringing things back, complaining about not getting anything new yet every time something new comes out it's an immediate "this is shit" or spamming "RECYCLED CONTENT" when it's just too similar to something else, begging for more pvp content then getting salty when we get it

This community just needs to stop. It needs to stop entirely.

Gambit is fun, it just doesn't get the care it deserves because you lot insist on more crucible content

Why do you even need more crucible content? We don't need 50 modes and 100 maps, crucible is about killing the other team and doing objectives before the enemy team does. The maps don't fucking matter anymore. There's already plenty of them and you've just gotten three more. Fuck off.

Stop with immediately discarding everything that isn't a perfect meta. Plenty of weapons are just fine, stop whining about not getting a new weapon with all your favorite metas, because what has happened is the devs ship out weapons built mainly around metas instead of niche weapons that have potential to be really neat weapons. It's why a lot of newer perks have mainly been about damage. There's no interest in synergies, or interesting perk combinations, it's all Voltshot this and Bait And Switch that. Sure, there's neat combos that end up as a meta, but we should have a sole focus on meta, as that's led to the BRAVE arsenal being designed purely around metas as we've seen from the reveals. And we all saw the craftable combinations for Whisper and Outbreak, I saw you fuckers in the chat automatically complaining about perks that weren't "good". FUCK YOU! THOSE PERKS CAN HAVE SYNERGY WITH THE EXOTIC WEAPONS, AND THEIR VARIOUS SCENARIOS! THE DEVS THEMSELVES SAID THEY WERE MEANT FOR DIFFERENT SKILL LEVELS AND PREFERENCES! More importantly, such heavy focuses on meta have led to everything being more difficult and hectic for new/casual players.

I love this game with all my heart, but without a doubt I hate the community. To the few like me who just want a game to play and enjoy, I hope the community doesn't make you want to stop playing like it has for others. Don't let them tell you what to like, don't let them decide what you should use.

Let's enjoy this game while we still can.

[copperbadge]

You know, I don't mind getting older; I'm perfectly happy not to be the same dumbass I was in my late twenties (I'm a totally different kind of dumbass now). What I'm not a huge fan of is aging. I woke up this morning hurting everywhere -- basically every muscle from neck to knees was sore or cramped or both. I know it's because I've been doing a lot of different work than normal (crouching, applying pressure with my arms, etc) but it still blows.

I had a list of cleaning stuff for today, but all of it was high-intensity, so I scrapped it and decided to put on a podcast I knew I'd like, move slowly, and only do what seemed feasible. I queued up I Don't Even Own A Television's "Pet Sematary" episode and set to work on changing out the linens on the sofa -- just changing the sheet, making sure none of the soft goods were dirty, and replacing the pillowcases on the pillows. The cats think of this sofa, which I rarely sit on, as "theirs", and Dearborn was very nervous about all of this, supervising me carefully.

[ID: Three images; on the left, Dearborn the tortie is crouched anxiously on a lurid orange Ikea sofa with all its back cushions missing. In the middle image she is hiding in a niche between the sofa and the wall, looking up at me anxiously. In the final image, the sofa has been covered with a burgundy sheet, the cushions are back in place, and a heap of brightly-colored pillows are piled on one end.]

I felt all right after doing that, so I decided I was okay to clean my desk. I know it still looks pretty messy but that's because I am manfully restraining myself from putting things in bins, since I need to have them out to remember they're there. If the hand cream and lip balm are out, I'll actually use them. (It's the time of year when my focal palmar peeling acts up; here's your annual reminder that if the skin of your palms dries up and peels, that may be focal palmar peeling and there are treatments!)

Polk supervised from the tower of storage bins nearby.

[ID: Two images; the left shows a desk, made of a glass top on sawhorse legs, with a table runner on it and two monitors on stands; several knicknacks and some toiletries are also visible. On the right, Polk the tabby is sitting on a large tupperware bin topped with a rumpled pillowcase, staring into the camera.]

I could have stopped there, but last night I'd put out some papers to deal with and it was easy sit-down work. I used to have a box of art -- postcards, prints, souvenirs, etc -- but I didn't like that I had it and never looked at it because it was just this box, so a while back I bought a "tabloid" sized art folio with archival-quality paper and sleeves, and I've started putting all that stuff into it. The first two images are just examples of what's stashed in it; the third image shows what I put into it this morning, which is two postcards from the Europe trip and the original "annotated family tree" that shows up in The Lady And The Tiger.

Got almost exactly an hour into the two-hour podcast when I finished, so a good day's work done even if I was creaking along like a rickety house in a high wind.