#So the injection doesn't actually matter

[terminaltimeline]

Lab rat

#The subject of the current experiment being how entertaining Syzoth's reaction to being forced to harm others is #So the injection doesn't actually matter #reptsung #shang tsung #syzoth #mortal kombat 1 #terminal draws

[iirulancorrino]

Movies that attempt something different, that recognize that less can indeed be more, are thus easily taken to task. “It’s so subjective!” and “It omits a crucial P.O.V.!” are assumed to be substantive criticisms rather than essentially value-neutral statements. We are sometimes told, in matters of art and storytelling, that depiction is not endorsement; we are not reminded nearly as often that omission is not erasure. But because viewers of course cannot be trusted to know any history or muster any empathy on their own — and if anything unites those who criticize “Oppenheimer” on representational grounds, it’s their reflexive assumption of the audience’s stupidity — anything that isn’t explicitly shown onscreen is denigrated as a dodge or an oversight, rather than a carefully considered decision. A film like “Oppenheimer” offers a welcome challenge to these assumptions. Like nearly all Nolan’s movies, from “Memento” to “Dunkirk,” it’s a crafty exercise in radical subjectivity and narrative misdirection, in which the most significant subjects — lost memories, lost time, lost loves — often are invisible and all the more powerful for it. We can certainly imagine a version of “Oppenheimer” that tossed in a few startling but desultory minutes of Japanese destruction footage. Such a version might have flirted with kitsch, but it might well have satisfied the representational completists in the audience. It also would have reduced Hiroshima and Nagasaki to a piddling afterthought; Nolan treats them instead as a profound absence, an indictment by silence. That’s true even in one of the movie’s most powerful and contested sequences. Not long after news of Hiroshima’s destruction arrives, Oppenheimer gives a would-be-triumphant speech to a euphoric Los Alamos crowd, only for his words to turn to dust in his mouth. For a moment, Nolan abandons realism altogether — but not, crucially, Oppenheimer’s perspective — to embrace a hallucinatory horror-movie expressionism. A piercing scream erupts in the crowd; a woman’s face crumples and flutters, like a paper mask about to disintegrate. The crowd is there and then suddenly, with much sonic rumbling, image blurring and an obliterating flash of white light, it is not. For “Oppenheimer’s” detractors, this sequence constitutes its most grievous act of erasure: Even in the movie’s one evocation of nuclear disaster, the true victims have been obscured and whitewashed. The absence of Japanese faces and bodies in these visions is indeed striking. It’s also consistent with Nolan’s strict representational parameters, and it produces a tension, even a contradiction, that the movie wants us to recognize and wrestle with. Is Oppenheimer trying (and failing) to imagine the hundreds of thousands of Japanese civilians murdered by the weapon he devised? Or is he envisioning some hypothetical doomsday scenario still to come? I think the answer is a blur of both, and also something more: In this moment, one of the movie’s most abstract, Nolan advances a longer view of his protagonist’s history and his future. Oppenheimer’s blindness to Japanese victims and survivors foreshadows his own stubborn inability to confront the consequences of his actions in years to come. He will speak out against nuclear weaponry, but he will never apologize for the atomic bombings of Japan — not even when he visits Tokyo and Osaka in 1960 and is questioned by a reporter about his perspective now. “I do not think coming to Japan changed my sense of anguish about my part in this whole piece of history,” he will respond. “Nor has it fully made me regret my responsibility for the technical success of the enterprise.” Talk about compartmentalization. That episode, by the way, doesn’t find its way into “Oppenheimer,” which knows better than to offer itself up as the last word on anything. To the end, Nolan trusts us to seek out and think about history for ourselves. If we elect not to, that’s on us.

#what I'm reading #oppenheimer #nuclear power #inject this entire essay into my veins #part of what makes oppenheimer such a powerful movie is how closely it hews to its subject matter #except for the hearing plotline we see what he sees. we feel what he feels #the people who were building the bombs never saw its effects. they lived in a tiny town deliberately cut off from the rest of the world #and when their labors bore fruit they heard about it on the radio like everyone else in the country #oppenheimer included. inventing something doesn't give you special power into what it actually looks like when it's used. that's the danger #the idea that oppenheimer would have been better or more respectful if there had been some random cut to people in japan or the new mexico #desert being bombed frankly strikes me as incredibly gauche #and the idea that this movie needs to encompass every aspect of the bombings because it would be unrealistic or unfair to expect people #to seek out any additional knowledge that can't be found in a blockbuster movie is just so insulting to our collective intelligence

[bookwyrmpendragon]

Hot tip: The best way to get me to not want to watch or read something is to do the thing where you go "Well, you know this classic story you love and means a lot to you? Well this is like that but BETTER!"

#I'm specifically talking about a post I saw about Black Sails #A show I know I would enjoy #But then I saw a post that was like ''It's a Treasure Island prequel'' #And I was still in #But the post continued #''But injects so much more depth into the source material than it deserves'' #Go fuck yourself actually #Anyway it's not just that #a LOT of things do that #A lot of really awful fairy tale retellings #Alice in Wonderland retellings #Myth retellings #And I hate them on principle no matter how good they may be individually #And sometimes the MARKETING does it even when the story itself doesn't actually

[cheemscakecat]

Fun/Interesting details in Expiration Date

Heavy knows that Pauling is calling them, and lets Scout be the one to answer. Also, road safety because he’s not distracted driving.

Medic is so hyped about tumor bread.

Hoovy smelling the sandwich and deciding it’s safe to eat [or that it doesn’t matter at this point].

Pyro standing like that. He don’t know what’s going on, but he’ll still be polite. Also, Sniper just chillin in the back with a poker face the whole time.

Medic smiles at Soldier as they walk past. Engineer’s got that Conhager death-cheating focus at the moment.

Spy’s eyes widen angrily when he realizes it’s Scout at the door and then he smirks like; “Oh hi! Twelve hours was enough time for you to get bored of my absence, then?”, not expecting a sincere apology [maybe one orchestrated by the other teammates, but not Scout].

There was some vitriol behind that “***”, look at his nose. He does not want Scout to gloat, try to prank him again, or give a fake apology. And that’s valid, since the team dying is something Scout should have taken seriously, and the last wishes handled with respect. He crossed a line that Spy doesn’t take lightly.

Dad, I threwed up. But in all seriousness, that’s the “My family is dysfunctional, and I don’t know how to be emotionally honest with people” posture.

See my bucket scene analysis for more on these two.

He didn’t say “You’re terrible with girls” in a snide or smug tone, he said it with like actual parental concern. “Scout, no you have three days! Do you want to die rejected or die before you can enjoy being together? No. Don’t do this to yourself.”

Look at that cup, he did not need a refill. This fake smirk and disinterest is Spy’s way of checking how serious Scout is about this last wish and taking his advice. And when he goes “This never leaves this room” Spy perks up.

Medic was taking a sample of bread tumor puss [or injecting it with something].

They have a whole entire wrestling ring, how did I never notice that?

This is one of those multiple choice questions where you can choose more than one answer and have it be right. But the chicken in combination with the other options looses you points, and just taking the chicken is like the token wrong answer.

Spy sighs when he realizes Scout chose just the chicken. Like chile, I gave you multiple options and you still went with your go-to that doesn’t work!

This room has a gym floor, which implies Spy took a bunch of fancy stuff from one of his rooms just for this date training. Also shoutout to the other teammates for helping with this.

Okay, so most of these decorations came from Pyro, who Scout is terrified of. Archimedes came from Medic, who Scout also doesn’t want to make angry, and the grass cutouts are potentially part of the base camouflage. But that disco ball? That belongs to Scout, he just doesn't want anyone to know he’s real into that. [The team would not judge, but his brothers would, so.]

Man when he gets his heart broken, I hope he finds the right girl for him. He deserves better than Pauling always making excuses to turn him down instead of telling him like it is.

Foreshadowing Solly being romantical towards Zhanna. Look at this content man.

Spy holding his knife like this. There’s no reason for it to be a threat, so he’s just genuinely in the habit of doing this while listening. Or while nervous, which also makes sense.

#tf2 #dadspy #character analysis #expiration date #tf2 scout #tf2 spy

[mitchfynde]

I'm begging the pro-Palestine movement to inject even the slightest bit of nuance into their rhetoric. I'm basically pro-Zionist at this point, but even I believe you SHOULD be pro-Palestine to an extent.

Here are some things to consider.

Israel has a right to exist. They didn't steal the land. You can say Britain did, but it doesn't matter. It's their land now and they have a right to live there, just as Canadians have a right to live in Canada despite the history of the indigenous people. Apply this to basically any other nation.

The October 7th attack happened. It was bad. It was an act of terrorism. They killed innocent civilians on purpose. The civilians didn't deserve to die for living in Israel. You condemn the attacks.

Hamas is a valid military target. They are a terrorist organization who are constantly attacking Israel. They're not freedom fighters. They may use the plight of Palestinians as an excuse, but they cannot be taken in good faith. You condemn Hamas.

Israelis are not Nazis. There are far right people in Israel as there are anywhere. Right now Israel's right wing is exaggerated due the attacks they've experienced. People's rhetoric can get extreme when such a thing happens. It's certainly something you should be concerned about, but comparing them to Nazis is not useful at all.

Generally speaking, Israel has a good track record of taking a lot of care to avoid civilian deaths. They have a strong history of calling areas by phone to warn civilians. They will then drop a knock bomb onto the roof to scare people out before dropping the actual bomb. They do not have a policy of killing Palestinian civilians.

The reason why Israel has the reputation they do for killing civilians is threefold. 1) Palestine is densely populated which creates huge complications in war. 2) Individual IDF soldiers or groups sometimes commit attrocities, on purpose or by accident. 3) Hamas has one of the most devious PR strategies the world has ever seen.

Hamas uses human shields. And I'm tempted to say they use them more effectively than anyone has in the history of the world. They operate in or under civilian infrastructure... seemingly exclusively. They make damn sure that, if you want to bomb them, you are taking civilians with them.

Combine that with the fact there's basically no way to identify a member of Hamas from a civilian and Hamas can generate an insane civilian death toll. Why? Because they can sell it to us. The western liberal is horrified by civilian deaths. Especially if the skin color of the victims is darker than the people doing the killing. It's the perfect plot for a terrorist group to pretend they have noble intentions of freedom fighting and whatnot.

So is being pro-Palestine just utterly foolish? Absolutely not. Palestinians are in an utterly horrible position in this world and you'd be absolutely insane not to care about that. They absolutely should have their own nation with their own government. They should have the opportunity to live in peace. They should have the opportunity to live in freedom. It's almost self-evident.

Of course Israel is too expansionist. The settlements are a disgrace. The IDF's reputation is not totally unearned and neither is their government's reputation. There is the stench of far right rot in both their military and their government. Netanyahu is absolutely a religious zealot.

All I'm saying is you can't look at this as a totally one-sided thing. Most of the people posting pro-Palestine stuff are being misleading at best and spreading flat out lies more often than not. This is not a valid strategy to enact change. And, frankly, you deserve better for yourself.

You do not need to lie about Israel to be pro-Palestine.

#fuck israel #pro palestine #free gaza #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #palestine #israel #ip #israel palestine conflict #israel palestine #the tags are just for reach

[12percentspider]

Info time: Diabetes and related issues [this is long but I highly suggest reading]

Do you ever see something and you go "that doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about diabetes to dispute it"? Well, I can help you there. I can help you know enough about diabetes to dispute it if need be. Especially because well, there are seemingly a lot of scams going around where people claim to be diabetic [in my experience it's maybe 3 scammers that just remake] and the information is not very correct in most cases. Not to mention this type of scam pisses me off because I am in fact diabetic, and not only are people preying off of others' lack of information about the chronic condition, but it's also trivializing a serious lifelong condition that can be fatal. If you have now or have lost a loved one to diabetes complications, you are already aware of how dangerous it can be as well as how dangerous misinformation is as well.

What is diabetes? Diabetes is a chronic condition related to the endocrine system- the pancreas specifically. However, if complications get serious enough other parts of the body will be affected. In type 2 diabetes, the body's cells have become resistant to insulin, which is a hormone produced by the pancreas that allows cells to use glucose from the blood- your body's energy it needs to function. When someone is 'type 2', the food that person is eating is not able to fuel them, regardless of caloric content. Glucose is commonly called "blood sugar". It's a type of sugar that is processed and then transported via the circulatory system to your cells where it's needed. With type 1 diabetes (which used to be called "juvenile diabetes"), the pancreas does not produce any/enough insulin for some reason or another, generally because of autoimmune or other damage. [For me personally, I was diagnosed as an adult and had to have it confirmed as type 1 due to the presence of autoimmune antibodies, also apparently my pancreas hadn't quite given up at that point.] As we've seen before, insulin allows your body to use the food you are putting into it. As a double whammy, you can have type 1 with resistance, so not only is your body not producing any/enough insulin, what's there can't be used properly. [RIP Spider who has this] So to explain the effects, think about what happens when you're literally starving. Now imagine that's happening no matter how much you eat. Your body may go into starvation mode and store fat. This can be misleading, which when combined with fatphobia has people concluding that "well, you have diabetes because you're fat, duh". Heck, I have/had diabetic relatives who believed that eating too many carbs will automatically cause the condition because that's what everyone is told/assumes. Eventually, you'd starve and your body would start deteriorating as so. HOWEVER because you would have so much glucose that just sits there because it can't be used, your kidneys are going to work overtime to try and correct this- and they can't do it alone. Your liver can also suffer severe damage. That's not to mention a whole host of other complications that can occur.

So what about it? Well, obviously there are treatments. Insulin injections have existed since the 1920s. There are also medications that can help your body actually use the insulin it's being provided, be it naturally or artificially. So yes, people with diabetes are dependent on prescriptions to survive. My grandma lost a sister in childhood due to insulin treatments apparently not being available in the extremely rural area they were living in at the time. More recently, the israeli occupation has banned insulin from being distributed to Palestinians. [Insulin has also been used historically in psychiatric hospitals to force low blood sugar in psychiatric patients, but that's a whole other rabbithole about psychiatric abuse.] There are resources for the US and beyond if you or someone you know and/or love are in dire straits financially and need help with insulin or other diabetes medications/ related medical help. That's only one aspect of treatment, though. Because pain, stress, hormone changes, other medical issues, and plenty of other factors can raise your blood sugar to dangerous levels, other kinds of treatment to manage other factors may be necessary.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get to specifics. So the most common problem you're going to see mentioned is high blood sugar. We've already covered what the effects are, but what is considered high? For the most part, "high" is 200 milligrams per deciliter. My CGM (continuous glucose monitor) lists "high" as anything 181 or higher but stops giving an exact number after 350. This is why I had a good laugh that time I saw a scammer using an image of a meter reading glucose in the 120s- that's good blood sugar. If you're going to get even more specific you want your pre-breakfast blood sugar to be 80-130. So when you see an accompanying image reading in the 500s, that's extremely dangerous. That's "you're in danger of going into a coma" dangerous.

Insulin pricing? How come I'm seeing people saying they need $300? In the US, pricing cap was set to $35 somewhat recently. What this means is that per insulin pen (as far as I've experienced, the above-linked resource post should have links with better clarification) it's $35. Can't be more than that for one pen. How many doses that provides is very up in the air. It absolutely varies from person to person. I have relatives with type 2 that have to inject a dose of very long-acting insulin weekly, one has gone back and forth with daily doses on top of that. I'm type 1 and have to take one dose of long-acting nightly with injections of a short-acting insulin before every meal, with the exact dosage amounts varying per meal. Insulin is measured in units (there's probably an actual mL amount, both of mine are 100 units per mL with a 3mL pen). How many units someone needs is determined with their medical provider (or care team? When I went to 'diabetes education' after diagnosis I was set up with a "care team").

But at any rate, if someone is in an emergency situation in the US should be able to get an insulin pen for $35 pretty much when they get to a pharmacy. Yes, I get that this can be difficult in some situations, but that's outside the concept of insulin prices.

If someone's blood sugar is over 500 though, they almost certainly need a hospital more than they need an insulin pen. Yes, alright, the actual real single mother on twitter who was the source of the profile images/meter images that whatever the current url for vero-og has stolen and been using for months... that was actually months ago and I'm sure she doesn't need to be told to go to the hospital right now. [That said, if you get an ask from someone and the url is a variation off of 'vero-og' that is a confirmed scammer.] And then on top of that, yes, why would you block people that can get you free or discounted insulin? If someone was offering to save your life for free or find you what you need for far less than what you were expecting to spend, why wouldn't you take it? Unless what you're actually after is money.

SO TO RECAP: Insulin does not cost $300, $350, $370, whatever someone is sending you an ask about. In the US, it is federally capped at $35 per pen, with further resources available, as well as further resources being available internationally. If you need help, please be honest about it. I promise there are people who care, you don't have to try and explain yourself- but it absolutely does not cost that much and if it did, there are ways to lower the cost by quite a bit if there aren't resources to make it free. Diabetes is a lifelong chronic condition that is not caused by "being fat" or "eating too much", it is caused by your body not functioning right and your body can starve no matter how much food you eat. Unfortunately, people have been lying on this site for months if not years claiming to have type 1 with an insulin emergency. These people cannot possibly have diabetes, or they would be well aware that they do not need hundreds of dollars to get their insulin. They are counting on you not knowing this so you will donate to them. The 'vero-og' scammer had been harassing someone who donated and threatening them with the intention of bullying more money out of the donor.

#refdesk

[mochinomnoms]

My thoughts, warning for NSFW if you’re in public and some poly octotrio goodness—

When not deep fried, octopus seems so squishy and gooey. The tentacles have to be ticklish, like touching the bottom of your feet.

Squirmy, squirmy Azul.

What I mean to say, is because Azul likes you so much, lightly grasping at one of his tentacles has him flushing and twitching in your grasp. He tried to hide it in public, hoping no one notices his beet red face. He’s burying his neck into your shoulder, half-heartedly whining about his “reputation”. Give his tentacle a squeeze and your octopus will disappear under the ocean, a drawn out moan washed out by the water.

Depending on their mood, the eels may help Azul out. That means targeting you in your weak spots, till your flustered twitches make you let go of Azul. Not that you mind.

A lot of the times, they won’t help Azul. They’ll hoist the shy Octomer out of the water, cooing at his warbled and moany state.

Push too far and Azul will use his tentacles against you, coiling around you and pulling you in so he can have his way with you.

— anon who wants to inject your writing into their veins

(gonna call you veins anon, and ty bb I'm glad to provide your regular dosage)

Azul is so so soooo shy in his merform. Azul does actually enjoy PDA, he loves showing you off and subtly bragging that he was one of the partners you chose. But getting to that point takes a hot moment, not even considering his rapid personality change in his merform. He's still trying to convince himself that you love and care for him no matter his form, but old habits die very hard. So it's up to you to press the sweetest, most tooth-rotting kisses to him and his 8 limbs.

It doesn't help that his tentacles are very sensitive to any simulation, so much information is gained from just his suckers alone! Azul is soooo whining about his “reputation” as he turned a deeper shade of purple at your antics. If you happen to grab at the most sensitive arm and focus on the spade-shaped tip, he'll be a cute moaning mess as he tries to sink further into the water. The twins are no help to at all either, which comes as no surprise. They're curling their tails around his arms, webbed hands caressing Azul's skin, and claws ghosting around his hips. Jade's cooing sweet, teasing words into his ears, encouraging Azul to be louder, to praise you for your good work. Floyd's busying himself with sucking hickies into his neck, giggling at Azul's high-pitched moans. If anyone were to pass by the hidden grotto the four of you took refuge in, they'd hear the cutest whimpers and gasps alongside haughty murmurs and giggles.

He does eventually strike back, his arms are made entirely made of muscle, and he is a couple feet bigger than the eels and quite a few feet bigger than you. Azul's got a tight grip around your waist after you took his spade-tip into your mouth and sucked. Now he's taken to using his tentacles to my you moan and cry out, nudging the twins to “help” him out. After all, he has venom in his bite, so he can't truly mark you up on his own. Come on now, Jade, Floyd? You left him with such a pretty flush and marks, do the same for our darling human~

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst smut #veins anon #azul ashengrotto x reader #poly octotrio #the main focus is azul so i wont tag the twins but them as well

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Im really ticklish so I’d like to request slashers and Micheal reacting to chasing a victim (their future s/o) and grabbing them and their s/o just bursts out laughing bc they’re too ticklish there and it doesn’t matter where the slasher touches them they just keep laughing bc they are really ticklish

So sorry this took so long, but here it goes.

Slashers with a very ticklish future s/o

Jason Voorhees

He is hopelessly confused when he grabs you and you suddenly burst out laughing. He is way too used to screams of terror. But he remembers his mother occasionally tickling him to make him laugh when he was feeling low as a child. It is that connection in his brain that makes him put aside his machete and give you a closer look. Despite your laughter, there is still a look of terror on your face.

He stretches out his hand, and pokes you in your side, causing you to laugh harder.

Hey, this is... *fun*.

Vincent Sinclair

He actually gets mildly annoyed. You are so ticklish that it even breaks through the paralytic poison that he injects all of his victims with, making you pretty useless as a base, unless he kills you first, and he really doesn't feel like working with a corpse right now. Besides, there is only very little laughter happening in Ambrose. He and his brothers rarely have a reason to laugh. So maybe having someone like you around would brighten things a little.

Freddy Krueger

The laughter quite literally saves your life. Unlike the others, Freddy isn't so easy to give up on a kill, but as soon as he touches you in the dream, you burst out laughing, both in and out of your dream, and that alerts your family to what is happening and makes them wake you up before Freddy can even do anything else.

Brahms Heelshire

You are his new nanny, and he hears you offhandedly mention how ticklish you are while you are on the phone with a friend. He is immediately intrigued and decides to put it to the test. That night, he sneaks to your side while you sleep, and carefully pokes you in the stomach. Even in your sleep you curl up and let out a sleepy giggle. He grins behind his mask. Oh he is gonna have a blast with you.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is used to random hysterical laughter from his brothers, so when you suddenly start laughing when he grabs you, the wires get crossed in his head. Only friends laugh together, right?

He touches you again and you laugh louder, and now he laughs too. He will overdo it and make you laugh until your sides hurt, but afterwards, you have won a friend, and possibly more, for life.

Michael Myers

Honestly, your seemingly random laughter is your ticket to survival. Unlike many of the others, he isn't going to immediately give up on killing you, just because you laughed. But you can use his momentary confusion to make your escape. As you run into each other time and time again, though, he has to admit to himself that you may not be as terrible as other people.

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #freddy krueger x reader #michael myers x reader

[makapatag]

realities, maximalism,and the need for big book™️

some gubat banwa design thoughts vomit: since the beginning of its development i've kind of been enraptured with trying to really go for "fiction-first" storytelling because PbtA games really are peak roleplaying for me, but as i wrote and realized that a lot of "fiction first" doesn't work without a proper sort of fictional foundation that everyone agrees on. this is good: this is why there are grounding principles, genre pillars, and other such things in many PbtA games--to guide that.

broken worlds is one of my favs bc of sheer vibes

Gubat Banwa didn't have much in that sense: sure, I use wuxia and xianxia as kind of guideposts, but they're not foundational, they're not pillars of the kind of fiction Gubat Banwa wants to raise up. there wasn't a lot in the sense of genre emulation or in the sense of grounding principles because so much of Gubat Banwa is built on stuff most TTRPG players haven't heard about. hell, it's stuff squirreled away in still being researched academic and anthropological circles, and thanks to the violence of colonialism, even fellow filipinos and seasians don't know about them

this is what brought me back to my ancient hyperfixations, the worlds of Exalted, Glorantha, Artesia, Fading Suns... all of them have these huge tomes of books that existed to put down this vast sprawling fantasy world, right? on top of that are the D&D campaign settings, the Dark Suns and the Eberrons. they were preoccupied in putting down setting, giving ways for people to interact with the world, and making the world alive as much as possible.

one of my main problems with gubat banwa was trying to convey this world that i've seen, glimpsed, dreamed of. this martial fantasy world of rajas and lakans, sailendras and tuns, satariyas and senapatis and panglimas and laksamanas and pandai... its a world that didn't really exist yet, and most references are steeped in either nationalism or lack of resources (slowly changing, now)

i didn't want to fall back into the whole gazeteer tourist kind of shit when it came to writing GB, but it necessitated that the primary guidelines of Gubat Banwa were set down. my approach to it was trying to instill every aspect of the text, from the systems to the fluff text to the way i wrote to the way things were phrased, with the essence of this world i'm trying to put forward. while i wrote GB mainly for me and fellow SEAsian people, economically my main market were those in the first world countries that could afford to buy the book. grokking the book was always going to be severely difficult for someone that didn't have similar cultures, or are uninterested in the complexities of human culture. thus why GB had to be a big book.

in contemporary indie ttrpg spaces (where I mostly float in, though i must admit i pay more attention to SEAsia spaces than the usual US spaces) the common opinion is that big books like Exalted 3e are old hat, or are somewhat inferior to games that can cram their text into short books. i used to be part of that camp--in capitalism, i never have enough time, after all. however, the books that do go big, that have no choice to go big, like Lancer RPG, Runequest, Mage, Exalted are usually the ones that have something really big it needs to tell you, and they might be able to perform the same amount of text-efficient bursting at the seams flavor writing but its still not enough.

thats what happened to GB, which I wanted to be, essentially, a PbtA+4e kind of experience, mechanically speaking. i very soon abandoned those titles when i delved deeper into research, incorporated actual 15th century divination tools in the mechanics, injected everything with Martial Arts flavor as we found our niche

all of this preamble to say that no matter how light i wanted to go with the game, i couldnt go too light or else people won't get it, or i might end up writing 1000 page long tome books explaining every detail of the setting so people get it right. this is why i went heavy on the vibes: its a ttrpg after all. its never gonna be finished.

i couldnt go too light because Gubat Banwa inherently exists on a different reality. think: to many 3 meals a day is the norm and the reality. you have to eat 3 meals a day to function properly. but this might just be a cultural norm of the majority culture, eventually co opted by capitalism to make it so that it can keep selling you things that are "breakfast food" or "dinner food" and whatnot. so its reality to some, while its not reality to others. of course, a lot of this reality-talk pertains mostly to social--there is often a singular shared physical reality we can usually experience*

Gubat Banwa has a different fabric of reality. it inherently has a different flow of things. water doesn't go down because of gravity, but because of the gods that make it move, for example. bad things happen to you because you weren't pious or you didn't do your rituals enough and now your whole community has to suffer. atoms aren't a thing in gb, thermodynamics isn't a real thing. the Laws of Gubat Banwa aren't these physical empirical things but these karmic consequent things

much of the fiction-first movement has a sort of "follow your common sense" mood to it. common sense (something also debatable among philosophers but i dont want to get into that) is mostly however tied to our physical and social realities. but GB is a fantasy world that inherently doesn't center those realities, it centers realities found in myth epics and folk tales and the margins of colonized "civilization", where lightnings can be summoned by oils and you will always get lost in the woods because you don't belong there.

so Gubat Banwa does almost triple duty: it must establish the world, it must establish the intended fiction that arises from that world, and then it must grant ways to enforce that fiction to retain immersion--these three are important to GB's game design because I believe that that game--if it is to not be a settler tourist bonanza--must force the player to contend with it and play with it within its own terms and its own rules. for SEAsians, there's not a lot of friction: we lived these terms and rules forever. don't whistle at night on a thursday, don't eat meat on Good Friday, clap your hands thrice after lighting an incense stick, don't make loud noise in the forests. we're born into that [social] reality

this is why fantasy is so important to me, it allows us to imagine a different reality. the reality (most of us) know right now (i say most of us because the reality in the provinces, the mountains, they're kinda different) is inherently informed by capitalist structures. many people that are angry at capitalist structures cannot fathom a world outside capitalist structures, there are even some leftists and communists that approach leftism and revolution through capitalism, which is inherently destructive (its what leads to reactionaries and liberalism after all). fantasy requires that you imagine something outside of right now. in essence read Ursula K Le Guin

i tweeted out recently that you could pretty easily play 15-16th century Luzon or Visayas with an OSR mechanic setting and William Henry Scott's BARANGAY: SIXTEENTH CENTURY PHILIPPINE CULTURE AND SOCIETY, and I think that's purely because barebones OSR mechanics stuff fits well with the raiding and adventuring that many did in 15-16th century Luzon/Visayas, but a lot of the mechanics wont be comign from OSR, but from Barangay, where you learn about the complicated marriage customs, the debt mechanics, the social classes and stratum...

so thats why GB needs to be a (relatively) big book, and why I can contend that some books need to be big as well--even if their mechanics are relatively easy and dont need more than that, the book, the game, might be trying to relay something even more, might be trying to convey something even more than that. artesia, for example, has its advancements inherently tied to its Tarot Cards, enforcing that the Arcana guides your destiny. runquest has its runes magic, mythras (which is kinda generic) has pretty specific kinds of magic systems that immediately inform the setting. this is why everything is informed by something (this is a common Buddhist principle, dependent arising). even the most generic D&D OSR game will have the trappings of the culture and norms of the one that wrote and worked on it. its written from their reality which might not necessarily be the one others experience. that's what lived experience is, after all

*live in the provinces for a while and you'll doubt this too!

#gubat banwa #ttrpg #filipino #fantasy #writing #rpg #gamedev #dnd

[larsthefishoil]

As I'm actively reflecting on the new hbomberguy video, but more specifically James Somerton, certain things are clicking into place with resounding clarity.

I've watched Somerton's videos for years. At first I thought he was kinda overly dramatic, and had outdated stances on how little lgbtq+ was seen in modern day. He always seemed to talk like we are still living in the danger of the 80s with staight/cis people's apathy and hatred. In truth the phobias have just shifted in how they present and things have genuinely improved in a sense.

But the thing that is actually getting to me rn is the misogyny thing. I think he actually injected really shitty thoughts into my brain that I absorbed like a fucking kitchen sponge. He's protectiveness over queer people but specifically gay men from "prevented white women" actually got to me. For over a year, I was walking around occasionally thinking about how "women are sneaking BL manga into their bedrooms and grotesquely drooling."- im not citing someone theres quoteation marks cause its a dumb thought. But i thought this because that's how bad Somerton made it seem.

But the thing that got me out of that head space was this video by talistheintrovert.

https://youtube.com/@talistheintrovert?si=vmpEa_TPP2UE9eQk - here's the link to her homepage on YouTube.

https://youtu.be/08pCrSBw5EY?si=bECaT_xC16IfN5TI - vid about Good Omens

https://youtu.be/zzSlRZhS_qY?si=unQzSbCQUaTqhSbv - Heartstopper vs. Only Friends

sorry for the ugly link I'm on mobile.

I forget their pronouns so I'm using they/them but I might be wrong. I watched a lot of their videos all at once, so a lot of their ideas interlinked between videos to connect points. But they frequently talked about how straight and queer people interact with queer media and the complexities that unfold. Their underlying message was always that an individual's sexuality doesn't matter when interacting with media when it comes to gatekeeping who gets to appreciate queer content. Still most people consuming are queer people, but straight cis people also benefit and that's okay, it's great even.

Talistheintrovert shooed away icky feelings of straight women fetishizing queer men, which was a fear I got from James Somerton!

Idk this is a long post, but hbomberguy's ending soliloquy about trying to find happiness kinda reminds me of the many countless queer YouTube channels- big and small. Most of us aren't clawing for the position of top dog and like Somerton and seem a lot happier dispit of everything going on nowadays.

Anyways, stay safe, be accepting, and cite your sources or else hbomberguy will have to crawl out of whatever hole he hides in for the better part of each year and make a five hour long video about you :/

#hbomberguy #james somerton #youtube drama #misogny #shout out to dashcon somehow getting mentioned in the plagiarism video???

[catboybiologist]

Okay i dont talk about HRT with people a lot and i started E when i was a teen so i actually didnt know estradiol injections were a thing until i saw your posts. I thought injections where a T thing and that we all got E through titty skittles.

I want to ask what the difference actually is because its piqued my interest. It sounds pretty annoying compared to a pill. Is it cheaper or more often covered?

also ps i know youre not my doctor but is 44pgml too low?

So first off, yes, 44pg/mL is way too low by any standard. The usual standard you'll see is 100-200pg/mL, but this is starting to be considered very, very low. More modern standards of care try for 200pg/mL at trough (the lowest you should be- on sublingual this doesn't vary much though). Generally 200-400 pg/mL is the more typical modern guidance. Your T is also very important here. It's very difficult to get your E high without your T going at least a bit down first.

With that said, self injecting E seems very intimidating at first, but has a lot of benefits, including but not limited to:

The main benefit is medical. Injecting E bypasses the liver. This means that you're stressing out the liver less.

This has an added benefit: you can safely get a much higher effective dose with little to no health concerns. Eg, Oral and sublingual generally have a limit of 8mg sublingual per day, and most of that gets completely destroyed by the body via the liver before it acts on estrogen receptors. Sublingual injections come in different forms, and the dose numbers aren't directly translatable, but no matter what you do, the effective amount of estrogen you're delivering is much, much higher.

Additionally, this means that your estrogen can safely get high enough to suppress T on its own. Once your T is down, and E stops being suppressed by T, the reverse will start happening- E will down regulate T production (up to a limit but that's an additional detail). That means something awesome- no blockers. No Spiro, no cypro, no bica- all of which have some concerns of their own beyond just E.

Yes, it is easier to access. Generic, sterile, injection supplies are easily available online in large quantities from reputable medical supply sources, and the injectable medication itself is generally cheaper and more likely covered by insurance.

This also means it's uh. Easier to access when access to HRT is... Non-conventional.

Whiiiiich also means another thing. Injectable medication is always limited by expiration time and the sterility of the vial, not the quantity it's packaged in. Which means that IF YOU KNOW WHAT YOURE DOING, you have flexibility in your dosage if you so choose. Eg, I have personally talked with my provider about how to do this safely, but I've recently tried dosages of estradiol valerate ranging from 6mg to 8mg a week. Again, remember that this isn't translatable to 8mg sublingual a day- 8mg EV injected a week is SO much higher than 8mg estradiol pills per day.

It seems intimidating, but honestly, I find a ~20 min routine on a Friday morning much easier to keep track of than taking multiple pills multiple times a day.

In general, it's considered the best HRT option, although most people ease into it with a period of time on sublingual first. If you can, get trained by a nurse to self inject the first couple of times.

[alornights]

⟢ airheads

➜ in which ! stan is head over heels in love with the bimbo girl.

🌷 ﹫stan marsh.

✩ 🦩 warnings﹗suggestive.

🍧 ⟡ notes — me core somehow.

bro i got so carried away with this its so long, i love this sm.

masterlist [ check mlist for details ! ] — previous | next

"Who's that?" Stan murmured nodding his head over to a girl who walked through the cafeteria doors dressed in all pink, looking like a lost deer.

Kenny giggled leaning his chin on his head, "The new love of my life, she's new to town. Dumb and pretty I heard."

"You shouldn't degrade people like that..." Kyle murmured taking a sip of his drink, watching her walk around.

"Totally would bang," Cartman yelled with a grin.

"Like she would ever go for you."

"AY- I HEARD THAT-"

Stan tuned them watching you look around, scratching your hair with some pretty long nails. He sighed standing up, walking over to you, "Do you need help?"

You turned around with a big smile but Stan couldn't help but look down at your chest. "Oh, I just don't know where to sit. Why don't you sit with me!"

"What."

he doesn't understand it. he just can't wrap his head around why he liked you so much.

it wasn't even because of your looks, something about you just scratched his brain the right way.

the way you talk, the way you moved, the way you do anything is just so addictive to him. even you just writing something makes his head spin because it's you.

anytime you talk to him he just blacks out, to be honest, just being around you makes him so dizzy.

the way you pout when you get a question wrong in class has him gripping the table trying not to react to how adorable it was.

"I don't understand." He groaned laying on the concrete ground. "I can't fucking get her out of my mind. It's like she injected me."

"Whipped." Kenny teased passing the ball to Kyle.

"Shut up."

"Probably because you dated Wendy for so long that you're so used to serious mature people," Kyle concluded with a smirk shooting his basketball. "She's dumb, she's energetic, she's cool, she's hot. You like those stuff but you put them aside for Wendy."

"...God I hate it when your smart and right."

"It's part of my charm."

by this point it's mental. there's not a single second where you're not in his brain, even little things get him thinkin' bout you.

would help you in classes he's good at and no matter how much you don't understand it he'll help you get through it.

he thinks you two are a match made in heaven. the emo kid dating the popular bimbo girl? WHERE COULD IT GO WRONG-

loses his mind when he sees you biting the end of your pencil with narrowed eyes trying to understand the material.

gets very flustered when you actually flirt back with him when he accidentally called you gods best creation.

"God's best creation?" You teased leaning over the desk where you two sat and Stan tried his hardest not to look at your rather revealed chest. "Why that means we may be a match made in heaven."

"What."

You giggled taking your hand in his. "You're so cute, Stan."

"What."

he got a bit better but not really.

kenny got hella mad when you started being stan's new passenger princess. instead of all his shit in the glove compartment, he finds a bunch of makeup, candy (not that he doesn't mind), hair ties, and some other shit.

would drive you anywhere you wanted. just ask him and he wills, it doesn't matter what he's doing he'll drop everything for you.

loves listening to you ramble about those reality tv shows or all the twitter drama going on, while very confused, he still loves it.

somehow gets you into rock. he doesn't know how.

bro if you two got to the point of kissing, he's obsessed with your lipstick smudging his lips, it's his fav thing ever.

extra points if you kiss him on his neck and shoulder, HE WILL NOT WIPE THAT SHIT OFF.

if tegrady farms is still around and making money will probably use that money to go shopping with you.

"Are you sure?" You questioned clinging onto his arm as you walked around the mall though the smile on your face said you loved this.

Stan smiled, "Of course baby. I wanna treat you right today."

"Baby?"

maybe he did get bold.

but seeing the way you lit up when he called you that. so he keeps going with it, and he loves how jealous everyone gets.

his dad may complain about all his money disappearing but stan couldn't care less with the way he gets to see you trying on clothes for him like a runway model.

especially those revealing outfits... lord have mercy on him.

couldnt help but stare at your ass when some of skirts and dresses started hiking up.

and tbh if you beg enough, he will get his nails done with you. he fucking enjoyed it, and went back again with you.

bonus, the first time you went with him, you let him pick out the nails and it was your favorite set ever.

and then you started getting very bold.

The two of you sat on the floor of Stan's living room studying for a science test. Stan got lucky that his parents were out of town for the weekend and his sister was off in college.

Unluckily, you two were getting no progress done.

"I don't understand Stan this is too haaard," You whined out loudly throwing your hands over his neck. "I'm boreeed. Why don't we..." You trailed off letting one of your hand land on his thigh, "Why don't we take a break? Have some fun."

"Huh...?" Stan murmured, eyes widened as his body got hotter and hotter with every second, his mind running to all sorts of thoughts.

"So?" You questioned with a pure smile letting your hand trail up.

"Oh."

#south park x reader #stan marsh x reader

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part 3

-

There's a restroom on the lowest of the medical floors that's kinda sacred for the SOLDIERs. Well, it's probably sorta sacred for everyone who has to go through the floors for any reason other than because they actually like their job - which is probably everyone other than professor Hojo himself. But it's especially so for the SOLDIERs.

It's the closest restroom to the laboratories. Mainly, the injection laboratory. And so it tends to be the first stop for any SOLDIER immediately post-injection. And as SOLDIER members get injected monthly, they become very familiar with it.

It's not special in any way - actually, it's pretty much identical to about a hundred other restrooms in the Shinra building. There's two urinals, two sinks, three toilet stalls and two fluorescent lights, one of them always broken - the one over the stalls, namely. Whenever it's fixed, it would promptly break again, coincidentally the same time the next SOLDIER came around.

By common, unspoken agreement, lab technicians never use the bathroom and the custodial staff avoid it, so usually the light stays unfixed for months - until someone new comes around, someone who didn't know the standard MO. They learn quickly. Nothing brings the point home quite like seeing an enhanced super SOLDIER lose their shit - sometimes literally.

This particular restroom, or rather The Restroom, has probably seen the worst the SOLDIER program has to offer. Sweat, tears, vomit, panic attacks, blood too - freakouts by the dozen. The SOLDIERs have probably spent more time cleaning the place up than the custodial staff, at this point. It's become something of a sanctuary, with offerings to match - from the not so hidden painkillers, stress toys and the shock blanket in the first stall, to the porn mags and… other things in the second to the third stall.

Third stall is people's favourite. The inside is completely covered in people's writing. Jokes, complaints, dozens of phone numbers boasting different forms of comfort, thousands of curse words, witty one-liners - encouragements. The entirety of LOVELESS is inscribed on the left side wall, with a small line beneath it, saying: goddamnit Genesis.

There's one line in the middle of the door, just at eye level, that's been overwritten and underlined by ten different markers for emphasis.

Whatever doesn't kill you makes you S̴̘̥̠̉̓̏̍T̴͔̎͝R̴̢͓̺̭͔͋́̕Ŏ̷͎̖͔̤̮̑͊̐͝Ņ̶̾̎̀Ǵ̵̠̫͒̍́͠Ë̸̶̬͖̜̤͎̦̻́͋̆̅̃R̴̢͓̺̭͔͋́̕

It's not exactly the best place to recover from having liquid fire injected into your veins, but it is the closest, and if you need to have a private freakout and get it out of the way as quickly as possible, proximity matters.

And that's where SOLDIER Third Class, Luxiere, stumbles post-op with his veins writhing inside him and his brain feeling like it's going to burst out of his skull. He's thinking, first stall. He needs something in his hand to squeeze before it starts cramping. He wants the blanket. He wants to sit somewhere private for just five, ten minutes, before he can trust himself not to wreck the elevator and everything else between him and the hot shower.

He does not want to see SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth hanging around in the Restroom, casually leaning his hip on a sink while he scrolls through his PHS.

The First Class looks up, eyes narrowing, tilting the PHS toward his chest like he's hiding whatever is on the screen.

Luxiere stops, swallows, says, "Sir," and hopes he doesn't throw up on the man's shoes. Or do something stupid, like ask for an autograph or training.

"... At ease," Sephiroth says after a moment, leaving Luxiere teetering at the edge of the door.

If it was literally any other SOLDIER, Luxiere would've thrown a weary salute and stumbled to the stall. Even if it was Genesis or Angeal, he could've done it. He would've been embarrassed, but he wouldn't have minded, he would've known they understood. For fuck's sake, half of the affirmations in the third stall are written in Angeal's hand.

He didn't know Sephiroth ever used the Restroom, though. He didn't think Sephiroth came through Injections. Didn't he get his straight from Hojo? That's what everyone says, no one ever sees him in regular injection wards. Hell, half of the SOLDIERs are convinced Sephiroth probably doesn't even have normal bodily functions, never mind needing the Restroom. What is he doing here?

Sephiroth doesn't even look real. Maybe Luxiere is seeing things? Mako injections can make you hallucinate, right?

… Probably best he didn't put it to a test, just in case. He already isn't sure he can ever look at the man the same way again.

He's still staring. They're both staring. It's awkward.

Finally, slowly, Sephiroth moves to lean against the back wall, and turns his attention back to the PHS, his eyes hard and keen. Whatever he's reading looks important.

Cautiously, Luxiere steps in and the Restroom door closes behind him, leaving him alone with the First Class. He feels like he shouldn't make any noises, but, at the same time…

There're many unspoken rules about the Restroom, and the first one is, you use the stalls for privacy. When there's someone in the stalls, you don't acknowledge them. You let them have their fit in private.

Hanging out by the sinks… that has the opposite significance. A silent request for companionship. And finding Sephiroth by the sinks is so bizarre that Luxiere almost can ignore the burning inside him. Like, fuck. What is he supposed to do here? He should say something. It's Sephiroth, he should…?

"... Injections, sir?" he asks awkwardly.

Sephiroth glances up. "... Mn," he answers. Awkwardly.

"That's… rough," Luxiere offers, mentally going, what do I do, what do I say, what are you supposed to say in situations like this? He should definitely do something. "Sir, are you, uh -?"

"I'm fine," Sephiroth says curtly, like he's not hanging out in the Restroom. He turns his eyes back onto the PHS. "Carry on."

Ah, o-okay then? Luxiere clears his throat and then moves to the first stall, closing the door robotically and grabbing a SOLDIER grade stress ball in each hand. His forearms burn, and there's a panic attack building in his guts, which has nothing to do with the injection.

He can hear the slightest creak of leather, as the other occupant of the Restroom moves. There's the sound of PHS keys being pressed. A slight breath. Weight being shifted. Like the First Class is relaxing, settling in for the long haul.

Fuck.

Sephiroth is hanging around in the Restroom.

Sephiroth is hanging around in the Restroom.

The moment his arms stop convulsing, Luxiere shakily digs out his PHS and sends an SOS to Lazard, with those exact words.

-

Comedy is in the eye of the beholder, as always with SY

#Fanfiction #Ffvii #Luxiere #Sephiroth #Svsss #Shen Yuan #Shen Qingqiu

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for this-was-a-terrible-idea; Jackson Kyle shows up in Gotham.

“I’ve met a lot of Superboys,” Jackson says, back to the bitter smile. “And a Supergrrrl, too. I was the only one who . . . wasn’t.” 

The only one whose Tim Drake was dead, Bruce can’t help but suspect is the actual end of that sentence. 

Unless . . . 

“Except for Black Zero, obviously,” Jackson says, and that bitter smile twists. 

And he still doesn’t look at Tim. 

Bruce watches Jackson in silence for a long moment. Jackson doesn’t fill the silence himself. Seems perfectly comfortable in it, in fact. 

He can’t imagine Kon ever being the same. 

“B,” Tim says warily. “This is . . .” 

“Black Zero is neutralized, to the best of our reality's knowledge,” Bruce says. More intel that’s not worth holding back right now. 

Or he's compromised and saying too much. That's less likely, but not something he's ruled out. 

“Kinda figured that when he didn't come back and conquer us, yeah,” Jackson says, wry and humorless. “It was a fucking mess to clean up, though. Not that it matters anymore.” 

Bruce thinks of that code phrase delivered at his front door and tactile telekinesis moving the hands of his study clock to a very specific time and just barely refrains from making the point that they'd bought the people of their reality a little more lifetime, if nothing else. He doesn't actually know how Jackson's reality ended, for one thing. Doesn't know how long it took, or if it was a direct result of Black Zero's interference in it. Doesn't know anything about it at all. 

He should ask. He will ask, obviously. 

But right now, he just keeps thinking about the way Jackson had first looked at him when he'd opened the door to him on the step. 

I fucked up real bad this time, B.

So Bruce knows better, but he still doesn't ask yet. 

“Relevant concerns?” he asks, and says nothing about Paul Westfield or anything related. That's . . . a secondary matter, for the moment. If that. 

Jackson's eyes unfocus briefly, and go just a little dull. 

“No, sir,” he says. “Not to you.” 

Bruce . . . pauses. Waits. Jackson, again, doesn't fill the silence. 

“Relevant to who, then?” Tim asks warily. Jackson doesn't answer him again, either because it's not protocol or because he doesn't want to. Bruce . . . 

He has questions, still. 

He has concerns, still. 

“Why not relevant to me?” he asks, which is a very different question, and Jackson's expression doesn't so much as flicker. 

“My status doesn't matter to you, sir,” he says, as even and toneless as any devastation of a report that Bruce has ever given himself. 

Bruce doesn't think about the pearls. 

“But no injuries to report?” he clarifies, because he's not going to insult Jackson by pretending that wasn't, arguably, the truth. At least the way Jackson clearly meant it, anyway. 

“No injuries to report, sir,” Jackson confirms tonelessly. He said that before, so it's not a surprising response.

But that phrasing might not mean “no injuries”, Bruce suddenly finds himself aware. 

“So you're uninjured?” he checks, and Jackson–pauses, momentarily. Like he might be about to lie. 

Or like he might just be surprised to be asked that. 

“Yes, sir,” he says, his voice a little stilted. “I'm uninjured.” 

The kid stripped down naked in front of him for the decontamination showers, Bruce reminds himself. No blood or bruising or swelling was visible. Color’s within their version’s normal range. No visible injection sites. A scattered scar or two, same as the faint one splitting his eyebrow, but nothing more notable than that. 

Not that any scar on a demi-Kryptonian isn't more notable than usual, of course. 

Much, much more notable.

#wip: jackson kyle #this-was-a-terrible-idea

[losyash]

On the matter of Greedling's eye color

okay so usually it's said that the eyes are brown when ling is in control and purple(anime)/red(manga) when greed is, right? but the thing is

episode 57. do you see it??

bitch's purple. but this is ling

i have like 15 more pics to compare so i put them under the cut

they even make a clear as fuck shot of his very purple eye.

then i went to check the mental space ling to see if it transfers and i had a lot of pictures here comparing different shots which all came down to that his eyes look like this which is NOT his eye color normally

but i am assuming it's a lighting issue because uh ep 28 where we get the ultimate close up of his eyes in soul space or whatever it is they're his natural color

also fun fact the moment ling gets injected greed his eyes change in the real world

...yeah that was painful

anyway next i checked the only times i remember ling driving again between that ep and promised day

ep 45:

that's still ling but greed IS trying to come back so might not be that good of an example. he doesn't open his eyes earlier =3=

the vs gluttoby and pride battle was useless because with the lighting they have you can't see shit

there is sooome color but i can move my mouse slightly to the left and get a different result so i wouldn't rely on those here

and since i started dealing with Very Inconclusive Colors i went ahead and checked the manga too

here is the same point that started it all

here for comparison is an early ling

and early greedling

do you see the grey tint? HOWEVER

here is the og greed who is supposed to have the same eyecolor as greedling when greed is in control and yet there is no grey (27)

but in 31 in some specific spots the grey appears (i put there a greed from two pages earlier for comparison)

here is a piece of fucking color (chapter 99)

and with og greed too

see? same color!! sorta

here is greed getting smacked which serves no purpose except me thinking it's hilarious

and here is actual greed in chapter 100

with tint being back

conclusion: ??????????? greed's eyes in manga are weird but i am ready to argue they're purple regardless of whoever is in control in anime

#fma #fma greed #ling yao #greedling #i spent too much time on this post #and while i was looking at color spreads i also noticed that envy's eyes are sometimes red and sometimes purple #but fuck it i won't go there envy can do whatever they want #at least they have the shapeshifting excuse unLIKE SOMEONE

[miniwheat77]

Dark. (Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, p in v sex, implications of somnophilia, non-con, stalking, yandere behavior, read at your own risk, MINORS DNI!!!!

(Summary): No matter how close he is to you, it’s never enough.

*Not proofread*

His dark eyes always watched you from afar. Maybe more than he should. More than anyone realized. When you'd tag along with him on missions, he watched you like a hawk and was always checking up on you, making sure you were okay. Obviously, as guarded as he was, he did it indirectly. He didn't speak much, he was more of an observer.

He seen almost everything. He knew what foods you liked, and what you favored versus just tolerated for the job. Those few foods you absolutely hated and under no circumstances would you eat it. He knew all about your extensive nightly routine, skincare, haircare, and all. Soap always interrupted your routine which usually resulted in you threatening the poor lad, but it was entertaining and always left Soap walking off snickering like some kid. Maybe he shouldn't know that, maybe he had snuck into the women's barracks a couple times. Maybe he's seen your body, but who's keeping count right? He’d never admit to anything. No harm no foul.

Ghost actually quite admired how much you cared for yourself, and he knew why. Countless hours of research, hacking, taking your phone in the middle of the night. He knew everything there was to know about you. What schools you went to, who your parents and siblings were, who you hated in school, who your friends were. He didn't know it then, he knows who all of your ex-boyfriends were. But he knows you pay so much money and put so much effort into your skincare because you were relentlessly bullied for having acne. He doesn't see it, to this day he doesn't think he could even point out one blemish on your face, or maybe he thought that was just him being so in love with you that he doesn't see any imperfections.

He's gotten up close looks. He might have a couple pairs of your panties from missions he's gone alongside you on over the years. Maybe he'd slipped something in your drink a time or two to help you to bed, maybe he'd help you into your pajamas after you'd passed out, and yeah. Maybe he looked and touched a little more than he should. You were just so beautiful, he couldn't help it. It started to get worse. He'd bring vials of any medication he could get his hands on. He often compared himself to the creepy villain in 'The Resident.' Injecting those syringes of medication into your toes so that you'll stay asleep, so that the pinch won’t wake you. He'd admire you, sometimes he'd touch you. Your Captain always worried that you were so tired, but you still functioned nonetheless. He felt guilty for taking advantage of you in your unconscious state, but he just couldn’t help himself. You were so beautiful. So stunning to him, you were made for him. Only him.

Ghost often wondered, how far was he willing to take this? Could he imagine making innocent people disappear? Because there was no way he was going to allow you to have any guy friends or boyfriends. No way, he’d stop that every time. Ghost even went as far as moving near you. So than, he’d still be near you even when you weren’t on a mission together. Sometimes you’d invite him out for drinks and he always agreed.

His fingertips danced over your stomach, he didn’t see it, but in your groggy state, you knew who it was, who was touching you.

When you woke up the next morning all of your questions had been answered. The sore feeling in your toes, being groggy, KNOWING someone was in your room but never being able to catch them in the act. Finding out it’s Ghost sends you spiraling. You wondered why he was doing this, but the way his lustful eyes stared down at you, you knew why.

You’re sitting on the rooftop, Ghost was taking over for your watch this time. It was no surprise that he shows up early. He’s quiet, regretful eyes as he avoids your gaze. He feels remorse for doing what he’s doing. And he doesn’t even know he’s been caught yet. You pretend like nothing happened. You want to say something to him, tell him you’ve caught him. But you don’t. You continue on with your night.

A couple hours later when his watch was done, you pass him in the hallway, on your way to the showers. You walk into the women’s locker room, laying down your clothes and pulling off your dirty uniform. You fold them up, placing them down on the bench. The moment you stepped into the shower, you could feel eyes burning into you. That’s when you first notice it.

The tiny peep hole bored into the tile. You swallow hard. Maybe you could play his game.

You take your time lathering up your body. Washing yourself off. You quickly finishing washing your entire body and face, hair following. You bite your lip, hand sliding between your legs. Your fingers started to dance over your opening, and maybe your moans were a little louder than they intended to be. But you went with it, moaning as you slipped your fingers into yourself. You’re sure those watchful eyes are connected to a hand. Touching himself. Eyes screwed shut, stroking himself.

“I know you’re watching me.”

His eyes snap open and he freezes. Was it his mind playing tricks on him? He stares through the hole again. You’ve slowed and your eyes are fixed onto the wall he’s stood behind. “I left the door unlocked. I know you’re there.” You breath. “You can come in, I won’t bite.” You whimper.

You don’t hear anything, and for a moment you don’t think he’ll go for it. But you hear the door open.

He closes it behind himself, locking it. Walking in.

His mask is intimidating. He towers over you, a mountain of a man. He closes the gap between the both of you, face only centimeters from you. “I know what you’re doing to me.” His eyes flare out. “Drugging me while I’m asleep. Touching me.” You breath. His posture goes rigid, and he jumps back as you reach a hand out.

“It’s okay.” You reach for his hand that’s laying limp at his side. You grasp it, raising it up, pulling his fingers apart and laying it over your breast. He closes his eyes tightly. “You didn’t have to wait until I was asleep. You could’ve just told me, come right in.” He gives your breast a squeeze, barely being able to contain himself. “You’re starved for it, hm?” You smile. You lean into him, lips brushing over his mask slightly. He grasps a tight hold of your throat, pushing you back into a row of lockers. They rattle as your back meets with them, a gasp leaving your lips. “So fucking beautiful.” He lifts his mask up to the bridge of his nose. He smashes his lips to yours, teeth knocking into yours as he kisses you fervently. He tears his gloves off, jacket following quickly. The rest of his uniform comes next until he’s only got on a pair of jeans and his mask. He’s attacking your neck with kisses and you’re moaning out. “Ghost..” his name rolls off of your tongue and his pupils flare out again. He quickly picks you up by your thighs with ease, lifting you up and walking with you back into the shower you had left running. He lays you down onto the cold tile, the warm water keeping the both of you warm as he makes his first move.

He soaks his jeans, tearing them off and struggling a bit as he does, but when he gets them off, he lines himself up with your entrance. “So sexy..” he growls. He attacks your nipples with his tongue, sucking at them until they’re sensitive, causing you to raise your hips into him. “Ghost- please.”

“Simon. Call me Simon.” He pants. His mask is soaked and water drips off of it. His lips and nose are still exposed and he’s panting, like a wild animal. He pushes the tip of his cock into your hole and he’s huge. He starts stretching you straight away, a moan leaving your lips as he slides into you. You tilt your head forward, watching his massive cock slide into you, moaning out. “Like that? Huh?” He pushes his hand against your throat, pinning you down onto the floor. “Like watching my cock slide into you? Hm?”

A strangled “yes” leaves your lips and he groans out. “I’ve been waiting so long for this. So long to be inside of this sweet pussy.” He growls.

It’s filthy. Luckily the shower running conceals the lewd squelching sounds of your wet pussy, the way his skin slaps up against yours, your moans. It’s something you’d hear in pornography. Your body is soaked and the water is still warm, he’s fucking himself into you at a fast pace, splitting you open with his cock. At the pace he’s going, you’re not sure how much you’ll be able to take. “S-Simon-“ you gasp, pushing his hips back. He almost cried at the thought of you stopping him. “Relax, m’not going anywhere. You can take your time with me.” You’re breathing hard and he’s panting above you. “Sorry- I just. You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted this for so long.” He’s still rolling his hips into you. You nod your head. “Relax, you don’t have to be rough for it to feel good.” You wrap your arms under the bends of your legs, spreading your legs wider, opening yourself up to him. His eyes widen slightly, he’s completely taken back by the fact that you actually want him. He tries to be gentle but he still fucks himself into you quickly, chasing after that high. He’s hitting deeper inside of you, leaving you crying out. You’re close to your first high already, but he’s made it clear this won’t be your last.

“Such a good girl, mine. All mine.” He growls, leaning down to attack your neck with his lips. Sucking marks into your skin. “S-Simon.” You whimper. “Gonna cum!” You gasp. “Cum for me baby. Give yourself to me.” He breathes. He props himself up onto his hands, keeping a steady pace to ride out your high. He tears a cry out of your lips as you cum hard around him. The throbbing coming from you leaves him moaning out. “Fucking hell. Can feel you throbbing around me.” He bites his lip, eyes screwed shut. He grasps his soaked mask, pulling it off and throwing it to the side. You look up at him, lifting yourself up to rest on your elbows. “Kiss me. Please.” You whimper. So he does. He’s handsome, you expected him to be obviously, the massive frame, deep voice. You knew he was hot. Wouldn’t take a genius to tell. “You-you’re really- Ah- handsome Simon!” You gasp, “and you’re fucking beautiful.” He’s distracted, the force of his thrusts have your tits bouncing, hair moving each time his hips meet with yours. He’s admiring your body, there isn’t an inch of it he doesn’t want. He wants you, all of you. He wants to fill you full, claim you as his. He’d kill for you, die for you. He can feel you tightening on him once more, and he knows your second high is approaching. He’s close too, that knot in his stomach is getting harder to ignore. “Simon!” You whimper. “I know baby. I know. It’s going to be too much but you have to let it. Gonna fill you up okay?” He breathes. He’s focused, the steadiness of his hips getting hard to control as he gets closer, he’s sloppy. He’s rolling his hips into yours, panting.

A cry leaves your lips and clutch hard at the air, skin turning a shade of red from being overwhelmed. White clouds your vision and you nearly pass out. Maybe it’s the warmth of the water, or the second mind blowing orgasm. Simon has a death grip on your hips, surely there will be bruises there when you wake up the following morning. “Fuck- fuck. Going to fill you baby. Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum.” He growls. “Mine. This is my pussy, mine to fuck. It belongs to me.” A sob leaves your throat from the overstimulation. “Yes, it’s all yours. All yours Simon.” You’re crying. He tilts his head back, cock twitching hard and throbbing as he hits his high, cum filling up your insides, coating your walls with his seed. “Fuck!” He growls. His hips come to a halt and he’s still panting, reaching up to turn the water off as the both of you come down from your highs. “Shit.” He sighs. He draws his hips back from you and you moan as he does.

You stand up, gasping as you feel him dripping back out of you into your thighs. His eyes widen and he feels himself hardening again. His cum is sliding down between your thighs. “So fucking sexy.” He palms himself. “You gotta do me a favor sweet pea.” He breathes. “Hm?”

“Need you to go into my room and get me clothes.”

“I shouldn’t. I should leave you here for being a pervert.” You giggle to yourself. He smirks. “You’d regret that.”

“Why?”

“Because. I’ll tie your up and play with your clit for hours. Edge you and than overstimulate you. Is that something you want?” He asks. You shake your head. “Good girl. Now help me out please?” You nod your head, a smile on your lips as you begin sliding your clothes on.

Once the both of you are dressed, your mission in getting him his clothes without being seen was accomplished, he’s laying in your bed as you finish your skincare routine. “Why do ya even need all that ah?” He asks, already knowing the answer. “Skin looks perfect.”

“My skin looks perfect BECAUSE I do all of this. And if you must know.” You pause, “it’s because I was bullied in school about having acne.” He nods his head. “I’m sure 18 year old me would’ve fucked 18 year old you.” He smirks. You roll your eyes. “No more sneaking into my room when I’m asleep. If you want to see me naked just knock or wake me up.” He nods his head. “M’sorry.. you’re just so beautiful.” He sighs. He knows he’s a freak for what he did, he regrets it. You make your way over to him, straddling his hips. “Simon. I don’t mind.”

You can’t tell him, ‘I like it because it shows you’re interested in me.’ But you want to. “I forgive you. Just wake me up when you want me.” You laugh. He nods his head. “Want you now..” he sighs. “So take me.” You smirk, pulling your shirt off.

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