#and it even is advertised as an insert. which is something i like

[holdhoiyghost]

@ anyone writing fic pls dont do this. a 'named' reader character is an oc. a 'you have long hair, blue eyes, etc' reader character is an oc (even unnamed). anything that isnt a quick "hey, it makes sense for this story for this *detail*" is probably gonna be an oc, ngl. having to fill out a character sheet for your 'reader' isnt somethin you should feel you need to do.

im annoyed but not too much since at least this was posted in the summary - but there have been so many good fics with great writing that are advertised as RIs and it turns out that no, it's actually an oc. and then everything is bad because there was genuinely no mention that it was anything but an insert. im not saying oc fics are bad, but there is a reason that people get annoyed with false advertisement - they'll seek out oc works if they want to. a lot of people just don't want to.

i dont think ive mentioned it on this acc before bc not really a need to, but dont try n write somethin that you arent comfortable with. it took me a while to even get to where i am with how i write, and i still struggle to make my stuff as inclusive as possible - its hard, yeah, but it is possible.

not everything written in second-person is a reader insert. thank you.

#null speaks #sorry it just is genuinely a pet peeve of mine #i hate when i see a fic that meets all of the requirements i want #and it even is advertised as an insert. which is something i like #and then 3 chapters in suddenly 'oh yea you are my oc btw lol' #i have 100% blocked over this ngl #helps to filter things better ig #not naming the fic or fandom. just needed to rant a lil #seen too many more recently tagged like this since my last post a couple years ago

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 86

do any of yall ever have like. an Evil infodump? where instead of endlessly word vomiting about a thing you love and are very informed about, there is a thing you are equally well-informed about but hate with a passion that you cannot hold back in conversation?

i do :')

(I'll put it under the cut for the curious because I think it's important and i cannot be stopped but also i'm not kidding the facts are infuriating)

SO. "Homeopathic" is often interpreted as sort of a vague synonym for "natural," or "organic," but it's actually related to a system of alternative medicine that means something Very Specific.

There are two main principles behind the practice of Homeopathy.

"Like cures like." This is the idea that, for example, if you have a headache, taking a veeeery small amount of a substance that is known to CAUSE headaches will cure that symptom. I understand where people fall into this flawed idea, as it sounds very similar to the principles behind, say, vaccines, or antivenom. But it isn't universally applicable in this way. An herb isn't a virus. But even if it was, a Homeopathic preparation of that herb would not have any effect on the body because of the second principle.

"Water has memory." This is the idea that water is able to "remember" any substance that it has had contact with. This is also not true. Molecules don't really have any way to store information like that, and even if they did, well... What would that information do inside our bodies? Would our cells have any way to interpret and process that information? What would they do with it? It's all rather nebulous and it seems like more of a spiritual claim than a scientific one. Which is fine, but is not medicine.

So, with these principles in mind, the process of creating a "Homeopathic Preparation of [insert substance here]" goes a little something like this: You take a dropper and put one drop of your active substance in a container with a hundred drops of water. You then take a drop of that mixture, and put it in another container with another hundred drops of water. You continue this dilution process until there is, quite literally, a near-zero percent chance that your mixture contains even a single molecule of your original active substance (depending on the level of dilution believed to be best for the substance in question. Typically, a higher dilution is considered more potent.) So it is, by this point, literally just a vial of water.

This vial of water is what is then sold as a "Homeopathic preparation of [substance]." OR that water is used to compound a batch of sugar pills, or gel capsules, or tablets, whatever format is being offered. Regardless, the composition of the tincture is literally just water and ~*vibes*~.

And they sell these vials of expensive vibe water! At!!!

THE PHARMACY!!! WITH LIKE THE IBUPROFEN AND ALL THE OTHER REAL MEDICINES!!! AND NO BIG WARNING LABELS THAT SAY, "THIS CONTAINS NO ACTIVE INGREDIENTS AND IS BASED ON VIBES ALONE," OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT!!

In fact! In the US they are able to advertise that they have been FDA approved! (FDA approval of dietary supplements is not the same as FDA approval of actual medications. In the context of supplements, approval just means they've proved it won't just kill you straight up, and thus you're allowed to sell it.) And, well. It certainly won't kill you! In fact they often also advertise things like, "It's natural!" and "No harmful side effects!" and "No risk of overdose!" and it's all technically true! BECAUSE IT'S JUST WATER! LIKE I CAN'T STRESS ENOUGH HOW IT'S LITERALLY JUST WATER!!!

Anyway. Please keep this in mind the next time you are offered a homeopathic remedy, or see one advertised in the store, or hear your antivaxxer auntie bragging about the fact that her kids all got a "homeopathic" alternative to their MMR shots.

IT'S! JUST! VIBE WATER!!!!

#day 86 #year 5 #it me #truly very few things get me more heated than this specific concept. i dont know what it is... just.... WOOF. #anyway i didnt bother checking beforehand if there's a homeopathy side of tumblr but i must assume there is. so. #if this showed up in your search results and you would like to argue with me about this. im sorry but you are not my intended audience. #i didnt mean to show up to your party and simply shit on everything. #but also if you spread medical misinformation on my post or get rowdy in my inbox im gonna block ya.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢

↳ summary: another day with the turtles in which you get dragged behind and have your worst fear materialize in front of you. or; a reader insert of season two episode ten, fungus humongous

↳ warnings: unreality, body horror, mentions of gore, reader is a bitch, reader can't express their feelings, 2012 april (that's a warning in itself)

↳ notes: hinted at the reader having a thing for donnie, but it's left up to interpretation. could be read as platonic or for any other turtle/character. also i kind of hate this verson of april from the show, so apologies. i made the reader a bit passive aggressive to her when i could sneak it in there. could just be viewed at jealousy for donnie liking her. also, reader is gn and hinted at being autistic

↳ song: never—mag.lo & o super

next part! | masterlist! | commisions! | carrd

New York City was a strange place.

You'd learned that from a young age. Instead of watching a mother skip down the sidewalk with her chubby cheeked child in hand, you'd grown up around men with the same faces filing down side walks and inside of vans. Arms filled to the bring with glowing canisters and talking in the third person. Sometimes, in the place of cute stray cats or pigeons that you'd scramble off to feed bread to at the park, you'd see montserous shadows. Humans with the bodies of animals, making noises that would bring you to have nightmares for weeks to come.

Adults never believed you, writing it off as an imaginary friend, or simply the smoke in the air getting to you. And why should they belive anything else? It was as bizarre as it sounded, even to you.

Still, with all this weirdness, there were somethings you'd never get over. Like the fact those men that used to terrify you were actually robot powered aliens. Or that your best friends lived in the sewers, taught ancient ninjistu by their rat sensei.

But more importantly, you'd never get over how Casey Jones was absolutely demolishing this gyro right now.

With black and white facepaint smuged all over your friends cheeks and nose, you had the pleasure of sitting on the arm of a wooden street bench, watching with a blank expression as one of your two human friends tore into the street food, getting a bit of meat on April's shirt. Who by now had begun to regret sitting so close to him.

"You know Jones, I think this is the most disturbing thing I've seen all week." You grimaced. The hockey player had now moved onto licking the juice off his fingers, something you mimed violently vomiting at. April just rolled her eyes as she continued to listen to music.

"Ouch man!" Casey smirked as he pretended to be hurt by your words, crumbling up the left over paper from his meal and haphazardly tossing it on the ground below him.

"There's literally a trashcan right next to us." April sighed and looked up from her phone shaped like a turtles shell; or t-phone as you had come to know it. So generously gifted to her by the one and only Donatello.

You looked over to where she had gestured, holding one hand up to block the afternoons sun as it beat down upon you all. Sure enough, there was a rusty little bucket not far from the bench all of you had taken refuge on. Posters of all sorts of faded colors and advertisements were plastered on the cylinders sides. More lay fluttering in the hot wind on the pavement.

With a groan screaming of false annoyance, Casey stood up and meandered over to the litter, eventually tossing it with a swoosh into the basket.

"He shoots and he scores! Ten points for Jones." He pumped his fist in the air triumphantly, not caring that passerbys were now staring. Both you and April were subjected to an extremely bad victory dance as he celebrated.

"Now only if you could do that on the actual ice, Case." You grinned slyly. Casey frowned back at you, abruptly stopping his little celebration.

"I told you to stop calling me that. And whatever. Like you'd know the first thing about hockey." He said sourly. "Maybe if Red here gave me a good luck kiss before my games, I'd score more goals."

"And that's our cue to go." April stood up with a huff, pocketing her odd shaped phone. You stood up not far behind her, adjusting the strings on your hoodie. You knew April wasn't actually that upset by Casey's comment, in fact sometimes you thought she rather enjoyed the extra attention, but anything to stop his incessant flirting was a win for you.

"How about we head on down to the lair?" You suggested, noticing that the three of you were already making your way over to the nearest secluded manhole. "It has been a while since I've visited."

"Don't remind me." April smiled as she struggled to lift the solid peice of metal separating New York from its sewer sytem. "Mikey asks me where you are everytime I come down. He's even started pestering me for your address at this point."

"As much as I love the guys, I'm not sure my heart could take it if they started showing up on my fire escape every night. I don't need any more visits from Dr. Prankenstien than I already get." You snickered, following after Casey as he dropped down the ladder. He nodded along with your statement, holding his gloved hand out for a fistbump which you happily returned, albeit with a bit more force than necessary.

"Ooh, was that a challenge I just felt?" He grinned misheviously.

"Come on you guys." April scoffed, rolling her eyes at how both you and Casey punched each other in the arms and snickered.

"Just because you don't know how to have fun Red, doesn't mean we cant." Casey slung an arm around your shoulders with a toothy grin, yelping seconds later as you shoved him off of you with a frown.

"Right. Fun. That's exactly what I think of when I think Casey Jones April O'Neal and a stinky sewer." You parried.

"Hey! I thought you were on my side!" Casey frowned, jumping back up and rubbing the place you'd pushed him sorely. You stuck your tongue out at him and responded that he should know better than to touch you, then.

"Lay off guys." April chided you, missing the way your lips downturned at her words. "Besides. It's not like this place stinks that bad. You just have to get used to it."

You sniffed the air for a moment, immediately recoiling in disgust. Yeah. Definitely not.

"Sick dude."

"Actually," April halted in her speed walking to let the two of you catch up to her. As soon as you reached her side, you noticed the redhead was pinching her nose with a confused expression.

"Something does smell weird. Like— moldy cheese and puke."

You would've responded to her, probably with some sort of quipy comment, but the shrill sounds of a scream stopped you.

It didn't take long for the source of it to pass by you, what looked to be a sewer worker blubbering nonsense about a giant squirell. You were quickly reminded of a day a few months ago in which a mutated squirell clawed itself into your stoumach and reproduced. You shut down that memory with a shiver, jogging after an equally as panicked Casey and April to catch the stranger.

It only took a few turns around the place before all of you stood to a hault in a more open tunnel, no longer hearing the deep thump of the guys boots as he ran away from an unidentified source.

"Should we call out for him." You whispered, not really liking yourself for suggesting such a thing.

"Yeah. Go ahead Casey." April whispered right back, shoving the boy forward and shushing his protests. With a huff he started forward into the wet cavern.

"Hello? Crazy dude?" He sang. After looking around a tunnel opening for a few moments, Casey turned back to the two of you, gesturing harshly to follow him. You begrudgingly stepped forward, refusing to be at the end of the group where something could sneak up behind you. That privilege would have to be left to April.

"Somethings not right." She murmered. You turned to supply her with a sarcastic 'no, really?' but instead paused as she was sprayed in the face with a yellow substance. Blinking, you watched as she coughed in the powdery looking material. Another blink, and wherever it had came from was gone.

"April? You alright? What'd you see?" A hand was placed on her shoulder now. You felt the presence of Casey next to you now. Both of you were now watching as she began to shake, and you were staring to think that the scared worker might have actually seen something.

April's eyes opened suddenly, snapping to your face ferociously. You got one good look at her eyes, the whites of them tinged with yellow and red veins, before she let out the louded scream you'd ever heard. With a sudden speed you had no idea that she even had, April clawed at your hand wildly. You yelped, bringing it to your chest and scrambling back. Casey looked at you with wide eyes before turning back to April, catching the back of her just as she began to sprint away.

"April? April!!" He yelled, not making a move to chase after her. You did no such thing either, cradling your hand to your chest in shock. You didn't notice the little bit of blood trickling down from the moon shaped scratches. It stained your shirt, fading into a rust type color.

The two of you looked at each other in shock before speaking.

"What the fuck?"

Your lungs were screaming at you to stop by the time you'd reached the lair. You and Casey had both almost taken several breaks on your run along the abandoned railroad tracks, but once either of you got a look at your now less bloody hand— curtousy of a makeshift towel you called your shirt —the running would start again.

You thanked whatever god lied above for turnstiles as you flopped onto the cool metal of one, not even caring that Casey had to jump over both you and it to reach sight of the turtles. Who, from the sounds of it, we're watching a very loud episode of that old anime again.

"Oh hey guys. What's up?"

Before Casey could even open his mouth to respond to Raphael, a blur of orange and green was pouncing on you.

From his place sitting on your chest, Mikey yelled your name and smiled, clearly very happy to see you.

"Where have you been dude!" He laughed, getting off of you. Instead of allowing you to stand up or even explain yourself, he was suddenly grabbing you by your shoulders and bringing you into a spinning hug. Any other time you would have yelled at him to let you down and stop touching you, but now you were just yelling at him to shut up.

"Hey! You're here!" You heard Donatello call from afar, most likely waving. Maybe you did need to start visiting more if this is how they reacted to not seeing you for a month. Then again, anytime you came down here bad things happened. Like crushing hugs from a very strong mutant. Or best friends going insane.

"Guys! Stop!" Casey wheezed while waving his arms around wildly, succeeding in getting their attention. In turn Mikey let you down. Much to the appreciation of both you and your throbbing hand.

"April— sewers— gone crazy! Hurry!" He puffed, bending over to rest his hands on his knees.

The brothers all looked at each other with cocked eyebrows— save for Mikey; who was just now noticing the source of your discomfort.

"Woah, hey hey hey what happened to you?" He gasped with an overdramatic flair, picking your arm up by your wrist and pouting at the now dry blood on your hand. You smacked his own hand away from you, only feeling a bit regretful when he flashed a pair of sad puppy dog eyes at you.

"That's what we've been trying to tell you!" Casey groaned, extreamly annoyed at this point. "April attacked them! She went crazy! We were just on our way here, and next thing I know she starts acting all weird and runs off! She's gone!"

"Don't phrase it like that Case. Now Donnie's gonna—"

"You just lost April!?" You watched as the popcorn Donnie had been holding flew everywhere with the effort of him standing up. Well, standing up was a bit of an understatement. More like lept up.

With a sigh you watched Casey pale slightly, holding his hands up in preparation to defend the both of you.

"Relax!" Mikey sticks his tounge out at Donatello from next to you, still making grabby hands at you despite your efforts to keep him away. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation! Like she was eaten by a giant sewer snake or something. That's what you probably got bit by too." He turns to you at the last part and smiles. You resist the urge to smack him on the head.

"April clawed me you doofus. I didn't get bitten by a snake."

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth, you witnessed Casey get absolutely steamrolled by Donnie, yelling about how everyone needs to go find April. The action put a bit of a grimace on your face. Why, you had no idea, but you found yourself following after him anyway, grumbling that you better get free pizza for life after all you put up with for them.

Water splashed around your now ruined shoes as you followed after the turtles, occasionally kicking at a stray rock.

The sewers were much darker than earlier now. The dim light was no doubt provided by the setting sun outside. It was surely getting late now, and your body ached with the pang of hunger you normally got around dinner time. It would've bothered you, but you were more focused on not tripping over concrete and landing face first in shit right now.

You came to a sudden stop behind Casey, faintly recognizing your surroundings. One of his hockey sticks poked you in the forehead as he turned to adress everyone, and you rubbed at the spot.

"I think this is where we lost her." His voice was punctured with a little stammer, clearly a lot more bothered than he let on. A quick glance up confirmed that this was the spot the three of you had climbed down from a bit ago. You couldn't help but imagine the people on the streets above. Walking around without a care in the world. Certainly not thinking about kids loose down in the sewage.

"You think!? Oh well thats not vauge or anything." Donatello's angry voice called from behind you. It was enough to make you jump, something you'd deny if pointed out.

"Back of stick-master!" Casey snapped.

"Who you calling stick-master, puck-head!"

"Shut up Donnie." Any other day, and their bickering would have amused you. But right now just wasn't the time— if the look on your face wasn't evident enough.

The purple clad turtle turned to look at you in slight confusion, not expecting backlash from anyone that wasn't Casey. The others shared his look, too. At least before Casey let out a smug laugh, crossing his arms and stancing up before Donnie.

"You too, Jones. We need to get moving." You glared at the both of them icily, shouldering forward without a care. You missed the way the turtles exchanged glances with each other behind your back as they followed after.

"You alright?" Leo had called your name, water rippling around the both of you as he sped up to touch your shoulder tentivley. It wasn't a surprise when you shrugged it off. You always did that.

"Yes, Leo. I'm fine. I'd just like to find April and get a bandaid before I need another tetanus shot. Or whatever bacteria comes with human fingernails."

"She really did that to you, huh?" He pursed his lips with thought. Or whatever turtles have in replacement of lips.

You looked back at him, a harsh response sitting on your tounge. It was only the curious look he gave you that stopped it from becoming a reality.

"Yeah. It's whatever, I'll just patch it up when this is all done." You sighed through your nose.

"I think Master Splinter might have some bandages somewhere." Leo supplied, a hand on his chin as he thought about it. "If not, I'm sure Donnie has some medical supplies laying around—"

"If it's fine with you guys, I think I'll just go home and do it myself. Yeah?" You turned, walking in an awkward sideways position to keep the conversation going while looking at him.

Leo's furrowed his brow, flitting his eyes around your face in favor of ignoring Mikey from behind, who was saying something about rats while Casey retched.

"It's nothing against you, I just—"

You stopped suddenly, attention drawing itself to something over Leo's shoulder.

He turned his head quickly, hand twitching in the direction of his katanas hilts as he looked for what you were eyeing. All he saw was Casey stumbling around, coughing while waving a hand in front of his face.

You brushed past Leo, making your way to the back of the group to approach Casey. To quote April from earlier, something didn't feel right.

"Dude? You ok?"

"Yeah." He sniffed loudly. Like he had a cold. You watched cautiously as he avoided looking at you, instead focused on a nearby tunnel that split off from the main one you all were standing in. "I just. Just thought I saw—"

You were sent backward with an omph as Casey jumped back, yelping like a wounded dog. Your eyes locked with his for one moment, and your own widened as you noticed the same yellowy-red veins as before. Only this time, they were in the edges of Casey's eyes. Not April's.

"Demon rat!" He yelled. Hockey gloves pawed for purchase against the concrete wall he had pressed himself against as Casey scrambled to get a hold of something. He looked crazed. As if he could see and hear something you all couldn't.

It only worsened. You watched in a combination of confusion and horror as he began to dance around, hitting at himself like he had just walked through the world's biggest cobweb; screaming at you all to get them off him.

With a nod of affirmation from Leonardo, Donnie and Raph slammed Casey into the wall opposite he had just been clinging to. You caught a bit of satisfaction on Donatello's face as he did so, something that made you sober up for a moment to roll your eyes.

"What is your malfunction?" Raph scoffed before letting Casey's left arm go. Donnie followed, backing up with his hands on his hips sourly.

All Casey could do was let out a sob. He dropped to his knees on the ground, unscathed hockey stick clattering next to him.

"Guys, I think I have an idea of what's going on." One more look at Casey's distraught gaze sold it for you, and you leaned over to tell the others.

Right as they turned to you, a shrill screamed pierced the air, setting itself apart from Casey's defeated moaning.

"That's her!" You heard Donatello gasp. "April!"

And then Donnie was off, sprinting in the nearest direction of the sound without a care. It was like everything else was background noise to him. Your eye twitched as everyone else filed after the tall turtle, not once stopping to take in anything else. You grit your teeth, looking down at Casey's slumped figure before deciding to follow after them, cursing silently under your labored breathing.

By the time you'd caught up with them, they were all surrounding the newly found April in a semi circle, with Donnie crouching down to gently touch her leg. You could hear words of comfort floating from him to her at a rapid rate, and you might have said something snappy under different circumstances.

"Do you guys hear that?" Leo's hand came up for a moment to silence everyone. The remaining turtles standing all turned to look behind them and were met with the sight of you.

"Just me guys. No monster." You sarcastically spread your arms out.

"No. That!" Leo's finger pointed to something below you, and you turned on your heel to observe.

There was a strange blue sphere on the ground at your feet. It bumped into you once before stilling and flattening to the ground. Strange white stripes patterned it, and you all watched as it transformed into a mushroom looking shape.

You were quick to fall back towards April, who was still screaming and grunting in horror, as the others surrounded it curiously.

"It's a mutant mushroom! With feet!" Mikey cooed, clasping his hands together. That only solidified your worries.

"I'd get away from that if I were you!" You called out. Donnie, Leo, and Raph all looked at you for an explanation while Mikey continued to gush over the thing.

"Listen, something weird is going on with April and Casey's eyes, and I think it has something to do with, like, spores—"

You were shut down as the small glowing mushroom attacked Mikey, attaching itself to his face. The youngest turtle screamed and clawed at his face whilst running in circles. His sounds of distress only increased as the organism appeared to suck at his face. For a moment your brain made the connection between Mikey jumping on you earlier, and the fungi gluing itself to his head. You blinked and got rid of that thought as soon as possible.

The boys immediately jumped into action, weapons coming out as soon as Mikey threw the thing off his face and at the nearest wall. It was times like these you really wished you'd taken up Splinters offer to learn martial arts, but you'd convinced yourself you already had too much on your plate for that. At least you knew how to wield a tazer well enough.

"Fascinating!" You heard Donatello grunt inbetween swings of his bo staff. "Evolved fungi!"

All it took was a few more jabs from Raph before a yellow haze drifted his way, emerging from the flaps underneath the mushrooms umbrella.

Without missing so much as a beat, the thing rose into the air and flew in your direction, looking as if to make a home on your face now. With a quick unholstering of the only defense mechanism you had, you produced your cheap tazer, nailing the thing straight between the eyes. Er, did it even have eyes. Either way, it dropped to the floor, and the air began to smell less like piss and more like sautéed shrooms.

"Just stab the damn thing next time!" You yelled, hands shaking and still holding out the tazer at arms length. All the turtles but Raph looked at your trembling arms with wide eyes, and you crossed your arms stiffly to cover it up. They didn't need to see how upset you were getting right now.

You would never understand why they all went for blunt force trauma instead of using the edges of their weapons to slice stuff. Maybe it was a ninja thing. A really, really stupid ninja thing.

"Are you alright?" Leo stepped forward with his arm outreached, voice soft with what you hoped to god was not pity. Donnie followed suit, and for a moment you though he might be the slightest bit worried about you. At least, until he brushed right past your shoulder to go cradle April again.

"Just peachy Leonardo." You growled at him, and he retracted at the use of his full name. "It's not like I've been trying to explain what I think has been going on for the past— oh come on."

You were immediately cut off as Raph began to scream at the sight of you all. With each passing second, the urge to bash your head into the wall was getting stronger and stronger. Now you remember why you stopped coming down here so often— if this tension headache you were getting was proof enough for that.

With a few more unintelligible shouts, Raph jumped at Leo with a battle cry, looking like he was out for blood. Leo simply crouched down, letting Raph fly over him and land plastron first on the ground.

"Donnie, explination?" Mikey shouted. He was now brandishing his own nunchucks and swirling them around hesitantly.

"Wish is knew!"

"I smashed you once roach and I'll smash you again!" By now Raphael was up again. This time he was ready to attack with more than just his bare fists, and was gunning right for Leo.

"Roach?"

That clicked it all into place for you. With one more look around the tunnel, sounds of fighting echoing off the walls, you cupped your hands around your mouth.

"The mushrooms are spreading a fear toxin!" You shouted with the risk of losing your voice th next day. If you even stuck around long enough to see the next day.

"Thats why everyones eyes are turning different colors and they're acting so weird! The plants are making them see their worst fears!" This time you thought you might explode if the turtles didn't hear you. Thankfully, you watched as a bit of recognition creeped into Donatello's face at your words as he dodged another attack from Raph.

"Its fungi, not plants, but they're right!" He yelled over all the noise. With a yell, he caught one end of Mikeys nunchucks in his hand and wrapped it around Raph's torso, watching as Mikey did the same with his end. By the time they were done, Raphael was now a squirming mess on the ground, looking just as terrified as Casey and April did. Only he was more dangerous than them. A lot more dangerous.

"So what, you're telling me that that tiny little guy is causing all of this?" Leonardo huffed while standing to his full height. Mikey was the sole one restraining Raph now as you approached them all.

"That's what I've been trying to say for the past ten minutes when you keep inturrupting me!!" You seethed. Leo was the only one who had the chance to look sympathetic. That didn't stop you from hitting him on the top of his shell in frustration.

"Ow! We're sorry, we're sorry!" He winced.

"Good." You sighed, already starting to feel a little better about this situation. The hollow feeling of behind over looked still lingered, but you were focused on other more important things now. Like finding out how to counteract whatevers being sprayed around.

"Donnie, do you think if we got back to your lab you could test this for a solution?" You didn't even have to turn around to know that he was busy fawning over April, instead just amplifying your voice so he was sure to hear.

"Maybe—" He mused, bringing his hand up to rub at his chin thoughtfully. You'd been in his lab enough times to know what he was about to go off on a tangent, "—but it's more likely that there's an easier solution to this problem. Fungi normally spawn from a bigger sorce, and since there seems to be a cluster around here infecting our friends, there must be the orgins of it nearby."

"So we find it, and do some gardening." Leo smiled from beside you, bringing out his blades in a gaudy move. You just gave him a blank stare.

"What? It was a good line!"

"You need to work on your improv skills, Leo."

He sighed and lowered his weapons. Cocking one side of his hip up in the way that he does when he goes into leader mode, Leonardo went to say something else to you—probably that you all should get a move on—when a flash of neon blue entered your peripheral.

"Oh shit!"

A mouthful of nasty tasting yellow dust spread all over the bottom half of your face in a fine mist. It settled on your tongue, feeling like partials of a cotton ball had been sprinkled on it. Coughing, you stuttered in your stance to heave forward. This felt different than what you thought it would be like. You didn't think that the ground was supposed to be swirling like that.

The last thing you saw before the world flipped on it's axis was a bo staff cutting the mushroom above you in two.

You woke up with your head feeling like someone had used it as a drum in a marching band.

"Did any of you get the number of that bus that completely fucked me over?" You groaned out sardonically, not willing to open your eyes and subject yourself to the light of the world just yet.

When no one responded, you reluctantly pried your eyelids open.

You were in a different tunnel now. It looked like it belonged to the same one connecting your friends lair to anywhere else in the city, but what did you know. It wasn't like you knew anyone who lived down here or anything.

Hauling yourself up took more strength than you wanted to admit. Half of your face felt numb, and the other hald itched something awful. The sensation was killing you almost as much as this silence was. Almost.

Standing all but a few meters away from you were six figures. They looked to be your friends, but something was off. They were all motionless with their backs faced to you, and covered in a thick layer of what looked like black goo. It dripped off of them and to the ground, pooling between their feet and leaking in your direction.

"Guys?"

As soon as you take a step in their direction, all their heads snap toward you at an unnatural angle. You half expect a cracking of bones to follow the movement, but all you hear is the sound of your heart drop.

"What's going on." This time you take a step back, not forward.

It's at this point that you notice your surrounding changing. It never stays the same for more than a second, constantly twisting into something more frightening than the last; all plucked from your worst memories. The kraang cell you had been thrown in once. The pool you had been forced to take swimming lessons in as a child. Your eigth grade classroom, watching as your teacher explained to your parent that you'd never amount to anything.

Finally it settled on the lair.

You refused to be backed into a corner like all those horror flicks you'd seen with the boys. With each step the figures of your friends took, you took one back, shuffling around in circles to avoid getting trapped.

You were starting to get lightheaded with how fast you were breathing at this point.

"What?" You eventually murmered, your pupils pinpricks at this point. Your ears strained to pick up what sounded like words in response.

"Leave." Was what you eventually heard come from the clone of Raphael. Because that's what he was. A clone. Not the real thing. He couldn't be. The Raph you know wouldn't tell you to leave.

The more you thought about it, the less true that seemed.

"Leave?" You echoed. The back of your foot hit one of the arcade machines lying around before you scrambled to get around it.

"We don't need you anymore." This time your eyes snapped to the clone of Mikey. His eyes were nothing but static in that eerie black goo. You couldn't bring yourself to look at it for more than a second.

"I don't understand." Words were becoming harder and harder to pronounce. You tripped over them as your footsteps slowed.

"They never valued you. Even as a human, I could see that." The verson of Casey hissed through his distorted mask. It looked more like an actual skull than the crude spray painted verson you had grown so accustomed to.

"Why did you think we'd ever like you, when you've never even tried to like us." Leo was the second closest to you and approaching slowly. His speed should have reassured you, but something about the unrelenting and unchanging pace only made you want to hurl.

"I do like you guys!" Instead of a fierce cry coming from your throat, it was a pathetic whine. A round of hissing laughter passed through the ranks of your friends. Wait, your fake friends. These weren't the real ones. You knew that. You felt like you were supposed to know that.

"Pathetic." April's voice sounded like it came from a scratched record. Her teeth sharpened with each syllable. "I was here first. And I'll be here long after you."

"Shut up!" It was your turn to yell. You didn't mean for it to be so loud, you really didn't, but the words tore itself from you like a scream. You didn't scream. You really didn't. Not in front of other people. Not like this.

Your feet had stopped moving now. They felt like lead. Incapable of moving any further without the force of a hundered men. When you looked down, you discovered they were ensnared in metal cuffs that tightened the more you hyperventilated. Twelve chains lead away from them. You followed each with your eyes, eventually finding yourself staring right back at the soupy expanse of your six former friends. Twelve chains. Two for each of them. One in each hand.

You were brought to the floor and dragged forward. Your pants tore against the floor, leaving what was sure to be a plethora of holes if you were to check.

Fingernails broke off and bled as you desperately tried to clawed away. You reached at the hem of your pants to look for your tazer, only to come up holding a ripped picture.

It was the one you had taken of everyone after defeating the kraang. It had been a celebration. A time to bathe and relax in the fact that you all had won. Everyone had smiled as you set the five second timer on your phone, Mikey even sticking a pair of bunny ears over Raphs head without him noticing.

You looked at the spot where you were supposed to be, only met with the sight of a cut out hole.

"Out of all the delusions that have run through your head—" You looked up at the only one that had yet to speak yet. Donatello's gap toothed grin sneered down at you from your spot on the floor, your mouth drying at the mere sight of it.

"From us actually caring about you—" The chains around your legs were only spreading higher along your body now, growing past your hips.

"To thinking that we actually cared when you'd visit again—"

Donatello crouched down. The black ooze around his face parted for just a moment. Instead of the cool tint of his green skin being revealed, or that purple bandana you had hidden many times in a playful manner, all you saw were tissue sinew and blood. Flesh peeled away and drooped down his face like sad wallpaper. You choked on your own bile as he grinned at you without skin around his mouth, making a grotesque clicking sound with his teeth.

The only thing that remained normal was his reddish brown eyes. They looked at you, locking you in place with a liquid hate you had only seen from him in your nightmares.

"The funniest delusion of all, was believing that I could possibly like a person like you."

Your eyebrows pulled together in terrified confusion. Sweat dripped down your head and trickled uncomfortably to the ends of your earlobes. Your chest felt the tightest it had in your life; heartbeat practically nonexistent.

You wanted to say you had no idea what he was talking about. That he was being insane. More insane that what was already going on. But the way you reacted to his words, your ears ringing with hurt and eyes pricking with acidic tears, you knew there was some truth to it. Why you were constantly put out with his efforts to pursue April. How your face dropped at each lovestruck look he tossed at the back of her head. All those jokes you'd made about Donnie being insufferable when your friend was around; maybe not being as much of a joke as you'd thought.

You don't think you'd ever realized your ulterior motives in all those acts yourself. Maybe you wouldn't have ever if it hadn't been pointed out.

Nothing more was said, because nothing else had to be. Donatello's face sewed itself back up with a sick slurping noise, returning to fuzzy gray eyes and a black exterior. With prolonged movements, he reached for the staff on his back. It was also dripping with goo, a few droplets splattering on your already ruined clothes as he hovered one end over your face. You recognized it as the end a blade was set to come out of.

Looking back up at all of them, the chains in their hands were all gone. They didn't need them anymore. It's not like you would be going anywhere. After all, everything below your head was encased in metal. Set to rot for all eternity.

A flash a silver and the snap of a button being clicked was what sent you into darkness for a second time

"I think they're waking up!"

"Get off my table Mikey. You'll break something again!"

"Is it too late to punch his face in?"

"Guys shut up. They're awake."

Taking a moment to steel your nerves against all of the elements suddenly attacking your senses, you inhaled with a hiss, an earthquake of deja vu sweeping over you with its delightful aftershock know as nausea.

The feeling of a cold metal slab underneath you alerted you that you were in Donnies lab. Most likely lying face up on his makeshift opperating table he'd crafted out of a d.i.y welding set and spare metal slab. And if any of the very poorly concealed whispering told you anything, there were going to be quite a few mutant turtles staring down at you when you opened your eyes.

You decided to peak one open to check.

Yep. Definitely a few of them.

"I saw that! Hey, did you guys see that! Their eye moved!" You heard what was most likely Mikey flail around somewhere on your left side. A few frustrated voices snapped at him to calm down, resulting in what you guessed was a raspberry to be blown back at them.

"We know you're awake." Raphael called your name blandly. You answered with what you thought was going to be a coherent string of curses, but instead was just a really scratchy sounding groan.

"I think they said, Michelangelo is the bestest turtle of all time. And also the handsomest." You felt three giant fingers grab onto the flesh of your jaw and move your mouth up and down as Mikey did a horrible impression of your voice. Treating you almost like you were a life sized ventriloquist dummy. With a grunt and a strain of your neck, you garnered enough strength to reach up and bite at his finger, inwardly pumping your fist in the air as you heard him yelp and the feeling of fingers left your face.

"Ok now we know for sure you're awake sleepy head." You felt another finger poke the side of your head, retracting fast enough so you didn't have to chance to bite them too.

Finally giving into the curse known as getting out of bed, you opened both your eyes and tilted your head down to stare at seven sets of separate eyes.

Even Master Splinter was here. You must have been out for a while.

"How long." Was all you could manage as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

"Ten years."

"How long, Donatello." You enunciated Donnies name this time, glaring at Casey who looked very amused at his own joke.

"Fourteen hours." He barely glanced up from something he was tinkering with in his lap, looking rather focused. "It's almost noon."

That was enough to shock you up, looking around to land on April's figure as you sputtered.

"Our presentation was due today." You coughed out. She nodded, bringing her t-phone out and gesturing to it.

"I already called the school. Said we had both spent the night together and got sick. They bought it like a charm."

"What about you Casey?"

"Eh. I never show up to class anyways." He shrugged. "What's another absent day for the Jones?"

"That might explain the lack of intelligence." You heard Donnie whisper. It was followed by a soft crack and him yelping in surprise. You looked and saw nothing but a faint red mark forming on Donnies arm. If you glanced at Splinter long enough, his tail twitched once as he smiled.

"Well that's good to know." You nodded at April. "Now can someone tell me why I'm surrounded by everyone I know this side of the Hudson?"

"Like Donnie said, you were out for fourteen hours dude! That's, like a whole day! We were worried." Mikey waved his arms in the air wildly and spun around in a rolly chair. You weren't sure where he got it from, but Donatello didn't look to happy about it.

"My sons told me about what happened." Splinter interjected. Everyone turned to look at him as he leaned on his emerald cane, eyes sparkling with a fierce emotion you couldn't place.

"You were all very brave in your mission. For that I comend you. But it seems that out of everyone, you were hit the hardest by the fungus." He ended his statement in your direction with a calm tone, doing nothing to ease your worries. Breaking eye contact with him was harder than you would have liked.

"So you guys figured out how to stop it then?"

"More like Leo did." April smiled. "We found him passed out and surrounded in shriveled mushrooms, looking like he had the fight of his life."

"Against a colony of shrooms?"

"The biggest one was at least fifteen feet tall."

"I take it all back. Leo you're the best." You snickered as you carefully slid off the table, feeling confident enough to stand now. You did your best to ignore the feeling of so many sets of eyes as you did so.

"So. What was your hallucination about?" Raph was the one to break the ice, scouring your face for any sort of hint. You barely held back a wince at the question. Maybe if the memory had come back to you in bits and pieces like it did to people in the movies, the question wouldn't have off put you that bad. But instead, you'd woken up and found yourself already remembering each and every bit of the nightmarish hell you'd been trapped in.

"Raph's was about cockroaches!" Mikey sang, laughing as he poked fun at his older brother. Raphael just growled and curled his fists into balls, probably holding himself back because Splinter was standing right next to him.

"Yeah? Well Mikey's was about alien squirells!" He pointed a finger at his brother angrily. And offended gasp punctuated his accusatory tone.

"It's squirellanoids! And they are much scarier than cockroaches or rats!" Mikey whined back.

"Rats?" You question, tossing a split second glance to Splinter. Somewhere next to you Casey groaned, clearly the culprit of what you assumed had been the fur induced visions.

"Can we go back to what your thing was now?" Casey said with hot ears, clearly not appreciating his fear being put on blast while April was in the room.

You pursed your lips and directed your gaze to the lab wall behind everyone. Peeling skin and puddles of oil looking sludge flashed behind your lids each time you blinked. With it left the stabbing sensation of tears. Something you despised; especially while in the presence of others.

"Nothing much." Was what you settled on, moving forward before anyone could say anything else. "What about you, Donnie? Did you end up getting sprayed?" It was almost ironic how you immediately chose to single him out after replaying the events of your nightmare in your head. A part of you scoffed at it.

"I uh—" His face grew warm at your query and he refused to met your gaze, "—I don't want to talk about it."

With a shrug you dropped the topic.

"Mind if I go get something to eat? I, uh, kind of feel like I'm dying here." You nodded toward the door nearest the kitchen, once again changing the subject. Mikey immediately ran to it at the mention of food, screaming about pizza. According to the others, he had been waiting all day to crack open a pizza to eat with you. And you weren't about to deny him now.

As everyone filed out into the common room, a light hand placed itself on your shoulder. Without even looking back you knew who it belonged to and only confirmed it once locking eyes with Master Splinter.

"My child," He began softly. "I know we do not have the bond you do with my sons, but if you ever feel troubled, my dojo is always open for you. The mind is your most powerful weapon, and it would be a mistake to let it stew in its own treachery."

You didn't make a move to shrug his hand away or even leave. Instead you looked at him curiously, searching for even a hint of insincerity. When you found none, you just nodded.

"Now go. I know you are eager to join the others."

Splinter watched as you retreated to the playful shouting coming from the other room, hands coming to rest on the peak of his cane once more. You reminded him of his sons. Too much of his sons.

He was just glad that you'd all found each other. He might have gone insane if he had to entertain those boys the rest of his life.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt x reader #tmmt x you #tmnt x y/n #tmmt 2012 x reader #donatello #donatello x reader #donatello x you #donatello x y/n #leonardo #leonardo x reader #leonardo x you #leonardo x y/n #michelangelo #michelangelo x reader #michelangelo x you #michelangelo x y/n #raphael #raphael x reader #raphael x you #raphael x y/n #casey jones #april o'neil #master splinter #x reader #one shot #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012

[desiblr-secret-santa-exchange]

DESIBLR SECRET SANTA EXCHANGE 2023

Now, what exactly is Secret Santa?

Well, an official meaning from the google says this :

An arrangement by which a group of friends or colleagues exchange Christmas presents anonymously, each member of the group being assigned another member for whom to provide a small gift, typically costing no more than a set amount.

But....

Yeah, I know we are all gareeb here! 🤣

*Insert main gareeb hoon meme*

So, in this event, the gifts exchanged will be of virtual nature. As in, the gifts exchanged will be something made by someone like art, a cute story, moodboard, playlist, collage, etc. (And whatever else you can think of.)

(I mean...you can also send a chartered plane as a gift but, number one, it will be very awkward for the person you gifted the said plane to, to explain to their parents the plane and WHY DOES SOMEONE ONLINE EVEN HAVE THEIR ADDRESS IN THE FIRST PLACE?!?! Number two, if you are rich enough for that, then I'll plan and commit a heist at your place, sorry, not sorry.)

Okay, cool! So, what's the idea behind this event and how will affect me personally?

The idea behind this, is to bring our desiblr community together and closer.

Maybe you are someone who's new and need some help reaching out to likeminded people (because, let's face it, we are all nervous freaks here 🙃), maybe you are someone who's been lurking around who wants to connect but don't know how to (again, there's a reason why we all lurk around here 🙃), maybe (if you're like me) you just wanna see someone else happy because of your efforts.

(And maybe, being a bit selfish, you can make your other works reach out to more people if they like this one. #free advertising 😉)

Sounds interesting. How and where do I sign up for this?

It is all explained in this post.

#desiblr secret santa 2023 #desiblr

[genericpuff]

I’m curious about some of your recent criticism of RS’s past making medical fetish art… in one post you mentioned there being a connection/continuation between her past art and the “problematic” parts of LO and cited DDLG and medical fetishism more specifically.

Can you say more about what makes those two things problematic? The obsession with Lolita and sexualizing actual minors is one thing, but kink isn’t inherently problematic IMO.

And, just to be clear, I appreciate your critiques of her art/the sloppy way that WT is shoving LO down our collective throats even though it’s way past its peak… I’m just more curious about how her past fetish art fits into your critiques of her as an artist.

I mean, that kind of enters "separate the art from the artist" territory which I don't feel you can actually do when the artist is inherently problematic and is sowing those problems into their art. But that's a separate topic.

Kink being a factor in her work is not an issue, and frankly, I didn't bring up any of the medical fetish art as to say it's an issue as a whole, more so to point out how this has pretty much always been Rachel's M.O. and it makes it make WAY more sense as to why LO is written the way it is knowing that (and more so just pointing out how weird it is that she apparently wants to ditch her life pre-LO but still keeps the usedbandaid name).

But I think it becomes far more of an issue when we all know her work is affiliated with Webtoons, a platform that predominantly markets to children as young as 11 years old.

Like, The Doctor Pepper Show was kinky as all hell, and it didn't try to hide that, it said right in its description that it was a medical fetish comic and it made it clear it was meant for people who were 18+. LO, meanwhile, is constantly trying to play this game of tug of war between its ideas and what it's trying to accomplish and who it's meant for. On the one hand, it's meant for teenagers who can identify themselves through Persephone's struggles as a teenage girl coming of age; on the other hand, it's meant for horny adult women who can insert themselves into Persephone's relationship with Hades and fantasize about getting swept away by a rich man who will solve all their problems, which isn't exactly something you want to be advertising/normalizing to the former demographic. It's trying to be both a serious deconstruction of misogyny and purity culture but it's also flippantly reinforcing misogyny and purity culture through the fetishization of Persephone as an "eternally 19" character who settles down with practically the first guy who pays attention to her.

When it comes to kink, I think it's more an issue of Rachel dangerously toeing the line between kink and predatory. There's nothing wrong with being into BDSM or the gothic lolita aesthetic, but there are people who use those labels as a way to normalize more abusive ideals and behavior (like what abusive men try to accomplish by infiltrating the BDSM community and claiming their abuse is healthy and fun, or when pedophiles try to infiltrate the gothic lolita community with the intent of fetishizing children).

Rachel being a fetish artist isn't the issue and that was never the point I was trying to make. The point is understanding Rachel's roots pre-LO and how they influence LO in ways that aren't necessarily good for the comic, its narrative, or the audience it's selling itself to. If LO were an 18+ series on a platform that marketed it as such and was unapologetically sexual/kinky the same way The Doctor Pepper Show was, then I don't think there would be quite as much of an issue (though it would still be held accountable if it did do anything morally questionable like what I mentioned above). But it's constantly being marketed to children and young teens, and it's being used as a self-insert power fantasy by Rachel to boot, rather than operating as an actual story with anything meaningful to say.

To use an example outside of LO, at least mongie had the nerve to step away from the WT's platform when she realized it wasn't going to suit the work she wanted to put out. She wanted Let's Play to be far more sexual than what they were allowing her to do, so she left. And while I don't like Let's Play all that much either, it has PLENTY of its own issues that almost seem to be adopted straight from LO, I can still respect her stepping away from the platform when she realized it wasn't going to be a good fit for what she wanted to pursue.

And no, none of that's to say that Rachel should leave WT or that she's in the same situation as mongie lmao but the identity crisis is evident in how LO is written, it feels very much like it can't decide what it truly wants to be.

That's all my two cents though, take it for what you may. That post about her medical fetish art wasn't meant to be like "LOOK AT HOW GROSS SHE IS, EWWW!" it was literally meant to just point out that she's still using a username from her medical fetish backstory for some reason despite the fact that she's tried REALLY hard to act like she never did any projects pre-LO. Shit, there are comics she's done pre-LO that weren't even fetish/kink comics, such as Castle Castle:

That's why I'm also not sharing much further and leaving it up to others to do their own digging, I don't think there's much to gain from sharing her kink art from 2004 unless it's somehow directly tied to her identity now in some way (like the madame issue drawing showing off the bandaids and self-insert aspects). A lot of that stuff is in the past. It's just odd that she's trying to leave much of it in the past but still couldn't let go of that one username that's still affiliated with it. I also think it's frankly ridiculous that she's trying to erase practically everything pre-LO, not just the stuff that she might cringe over or might be too sexual for her modern audience, but also the stuff like Castle Castle that she really should share, IMO! Because it's neat and it shows that she didn't just come from nothing, she made so much art pre-LO that ought to be shared and seen and preserved, but it seems like she's too focused on selling the whole "one hit wonder" image these days that she never bothers to mention the work that I'm sure even her own fans would love to see.

As a final note to wrap up this long response, it's wild that it's often only the critical community sharing these old art pieces, because a lot of the time, barring questioning of her values and ideals that are present in some of her old pieces, most people really like them and have lots of good things to say about them. I think the ultimate takeaway is how sad it is that she's fallen this low in terms of quality and effort. I think she is capable of making beautiful art, but somewhere along the way, she either stopped caring or lost the drive and that really sucks to see.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #ama #ask me anything #anon ask me anything #anon ama

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 15: lingerie

twice 1.4k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Hirai Momo suggestive/SFW

🖤 warnings: lots of staring, a secret lingerie kink, or maybe just a big crush on momo who even knows~🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

You've never felt less professional in your life.

It's the very essence of your job to look at pretty people. Being an assistant DP means your life is full of spotless sets, glittering lights, and beautiful, beautiful people. And usually, it's all mundane.

People can get used to anything, after long enough. And you'd thought you were used to pretty people.

This shoot isn't even anything special.

You've done dozens of lingerie shoots. Even a few kink shoots for adult websites, with even less clothes than the models are wearing today. And usually, any twinge of interest in the people wearing those clothes is absolutely killed by the alternately boring and stressful demands of your job. It's hard to be horny when you need to hold reflectors for eight hours straight.

But this client is unbelievable.

She's independently famous, something outside of modeling, but you're pretty sure you've never seen her before today.

You wish you had, though, because she's stunning.

The line being advertised is some very expensive lingerie brand that you've also never heard of, delicate luxury fabrics that the wardrobe girls have already complained about. Apparently they're only allowed to use certain kinds of thread to tailor them up, something about weight and fabric pulling. The intricacies of fashion are above you, but that's fine. The models look great.

Especially this girl.

You're sure your face is extremely unprofessional, as she takes off the big teddy bear coat covering her outfit and steps onto the set.

Her abs catch your eye first. You don't see many models with visible abs that seem like they're the result of effort, rather than simply body composition.

Wouldn't matter to you, either way, because her face is equally as stunning, and you can't fake that. Intelligent eyes and a sneaky smile, glossy black hair with stair bangs.

Ridiculously pretty.

"Are you ready?" asks the director.

This girl nods. "Ready."

"Anything uncomfy?"

"No."

"Then let's get going."

It's a businesslike exchange, polite and short, and usually you'd be right there with everyone else. Your boss, the DP, who's calling lights and judging the placement of fake plants. The director nudging and complimenting the model into different spots on the tight set.

Usually, you'd be just as busy. But you're just kind of...watching.

Watching, as this girl in her thick garters and black bustier bends and smolders and tosses her hair for the camera.

Someone finally says her name, and it's the makeup artist, darting to the edge of the set between shots.

"Momo, can I fix your lipstick?"

You think her lipstick is perfect, personally, but whatever. The makeup artist smooths a little brush over the model's full bottom lip, taking away some imperceptible imperfections, and you just watch, like an idiot.

Really, you never thought you had a thing for lingerie.

It's part of your job to see it in detail, like this. It's part of life to see it at all. You're  person in society. Clothes never really did it for you, even intimate clothes.

Must be the girl, then.

It must be.

"Let's do the warm light, next," the director decides. "Can I get the reflector in here?"

Shit. That means you.

The unwieldy gold fabric circle is admittedly pretty neat, a tool that reflects the studio lights back with a warm gold-colored tint. And this one is handheld, which means that someone has to stand next to the model and angle it just so, to get the perfect lighting.

That someone is you.

And in you go, hauling the reflector.

"Up close on the left, please. Her right," the director tells you. "Thanks."

You can't see any flaws in her lipstick up close, either. Momo gives you a very interesting, oddly knowing kind of smile, as you hover beside her with your reflector. It's a few moments of taking direction - a little right, a little up, closer...not that close you're in frame - and then just holding the pose until the director decides to let up.

Usually you'd be counting the seconds, as your muscles stiffen up from staying in the same awkward spot, praying for the shoot to end.

But right now, you're focused on not being super weird.

You need to watch her, to make sure that the light doesn't change. You need to be aware of the glare off the silvery hardware of her garters, to move the screen around if she changes poses. That, of course, means you kind of need to stare at her.

And Momo seems to like that you're staring at her.

Maybe you're reading into it, just wishful thinking. But every time she adjusts, and you adjust with her, trying to look at her just enough but not too much, Momo...looks at you.

It's a smirk, it's definitely a smirk. Not a smile. Sneakier than that. She's smirking at you.

That probably means that you're being obvious, and she can tell that you're interested in her. Or at least intrigued by her. She's so pretty, pretty enough that you probably wouldn't be brave enough to approach her at a party. Pretty enough that she's probably used to people reacting to her like this.

It doesn't help that she's only wearing lingerie.

"Anything else you wanna try?" the director asks.

This director is a nice lady, accommodating even when she has to rush through bookings like this to meet deadlines, so this is one of the usual questions. Letting the models suggest poses and concepts helps them take some control over their gigs, a rarity in the fashion world that moves so fast and objectifies so quickly. You usually appreciate it a lot.

But today, Momo hums her consideration, and looks at you.

"What do you think?" she asks.

You startle. "What?"

"Is there any position you think would look good?"

Momo is grinning at you, an innocent smile, but her eyes are glinting. She absolutely knows what she's doing, and she's doing it on purpose.

The director doesn't even blink. "Any ideas?"

"I mean, I-" you stammer. "No, everything has been good, yeah-"

"Then we're finished," the director decides.

Embarrassing, but you're safe now.

Or, you're safe for the next ten minutes.

Sets move fast, and it's only a matter of seconds before Momo has retreated to the greenroom with her manager, and the next girl is brought out. This girl is also very pretty, but you don't have the same brain-melting reaction to her. Which is a fucking relief, because it means that you didn't suddenly get weird.

As the next shoot starts, the DP calls you over.

"Can you go get the colored screens? We're gonna need red for this girl."

"Sure," you agree.

So you take the gold reflector, and the regular silver one, and walk to the supply racks to find the primary-colored ones. You'll grab red, and blue for good measure...

"You got a second?"

Oh, no.

You turn around, and there's Momo, wrapped in her teddy bear coat again, leaning against the doorway to her closet-sized greenroom.

"I guess," you say, nervous.

"I just wanted to know if you liked this outfit."

While you still have the presence of mind, you put the reflectors in their spot on the wheeled rack in the hallway.

That's a good call, too, because as soon as your eyes are on Momo again, she drops the coat.

And there's that lingerie set, again.

"It seemed like you liked it," she adds.

She's still standing like she's on set, posed against the doorframe, her fluffy coat piled at her feet. It's ridiculous that someone can be this hot. You're mesmerized by the dip of her skin around the tight band of the garters, the smooth lines of her cleavage over the top of the bustier, her abs...

"I liked it. I like it," you say.

You probably sound way too eager, but it's too late to try and fix yourself.

Momo tilts her head, looking purposefully, artfully curious. "Would you wanna touch it?"

You wheeze.

"The outfit, I mean," she says mildly. "Of course. It's really nice. You could touch it."

You're not entirely sure what's happening, or why, but there is some higher power smiling down on you right now, and you're not about to waste it.

Fingers of one hand tugging at the thigh strap of her garter, the other hand smoothing a path up the expensive silk and lace of her bustier. She's all but laughing at you and your eagerness, and she lets you crowd her backwards into her greenroom. You at least have the presence of mind to not want to get caught.

"This a normal thing for you?" Momo asks.

You relish the chance to answer. "No!"

"Huh." Her face is far too satisfied. "Must just be me, then."

The feeling of the delicate material of her lingerie under your hands does feel fantastic, but you think she's probably right.

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #twice fanfic #twice momo fanfic #hirai momo fanfic #twice smut #twice momo smut #hirai momo smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

[seancosy]

I saw ur post in the solarpunk tag and! I think we can do better! I think nobody should have to work ever, because how do we pick who's exempt? who's making that decision? the only way I can think for it to be fair is if the person themself gets to make that decision.

bc like the system you're describing isn't hypothetical and as someone who's gone through a nightmare of uncaring bureaucracy just to be allowed not to work due to disability I can say it doesn't work and definitely doesn't feel like a utopia!

I don't follow you and not gonna come back to this so do with it what you want but yeah something to consider I guess

Points I agree with:

People should have the ability to self-determine their capacity to work, and should not be expected to work if they are unable to.

External parties should not be deciding who is able or unable to work.

Points I disagree with:

"Nobody should have to work ever"

I may be misunderstanding you, but... life is work. Someone needs to drive trains, design functional sewerage systems, deliver babies, rescue people from burning buildings, grow rice, implement grain shipping logistics, change diapers, develop vaccines, wash clothes, teach children to read, sterilise surgical equipment, provide counselling to antisocial or dangerous people, cook food for the elderly, insert urinary catheters, repair potholes in roads, pick up rubbish, code the software that checks pressure in dam walls, etc.

None of the above jobs are particularly sexy. Very few people would dream of performing any of these roles when they are growing up. But the work is necessary to maintain a functional society. What links these jobs is that they are meaningful. They help. They improve society. People can find purpose and fulfillment in these tasks because they know they are helping society, even if indirectly.

There are so many jobs in our current society that do not provide a benefit to anyone other than a select few capitalists. If we restructured to become more 'solarpunk' (which I interpret as more communist and likely more anarchist than current societies), these capitalist jobs wouldn't exist, and we wouldn't miss them. Merchant bankers, advertising executives, influencers, soldiers, funko-pop factory workers (I have a personal dislike for these products; such an overt waste of materials and for literally no benefit! people often don't even take them out of their packets?!?!), mortgage brokers, the list goes on.

If we redirected the people working in these capitalist jobs towards roles that directly help society.... everyone would work a lot less, but society would function just as effectively, if not more so. There would be fewer jobs, and more people to do them. There would be more chance to rest and enjoy leisure time. And yes, some people would probably be able to never work at all, if they chose to. But if the work is meaningful, I genuinely believe most people would want to work, and I don't think it's unreasonable to expect people to do something meaningful for others even for just a few hours a week (clean the dishes at the cafeteria or babysit your friend's kids). But no, I don't think people's work contributions should be monitored or quantified at all, unless it's to tell people to rest when they are overworked. People should work of their own volition. And of course those with disabilities or any other factors that prevent them from working safely shouldn't need to work if they are unable or unwilling.

An interesting book that portrays a world that is anarcho-communist is The Dispossessed, by Ursula K LeGuin. It details the struggle between the need for work VS personal freedom exceptionally well.

(Original post linked below)

#ask #anon #solarpunk #work #communism

[gwens-fiction]

Intro Post

Hi! I’m Gwen. I’m 26, she/her, have a masters in wildlife biology and conservation management, bachelors in biology with minors of English and environmental studies. I have two younger siblings, and 8 pets (5 dogs, 1 rabbit, and 2 cats). I write a lot of fanfiction for the Penguins of Madagascar fandom, but I also write several original things, too.

Genres I write tend to fall under: fantasy, urban fantasy, sci-fi, horror, weird science, action comedy (with animal characters), mystery, poetry.

Feel free to ask to be on any tag list! WIPs below the cut.

Original WIPs

Hidden Earth Chronicles

Summary: Necromancer Vasco has just returned home to find his beloved wife missing. He and his brother-in-law set out to find her and along the way Vasco learns more about where he came from and his own abilities.

Tropical Storm

Summary: Martin along Evy and Diego, are newly moving into the San Diego Zoo. However, Martin’s life is unexpectedly rocked when a secret agent accidentally drops a piece of top secret spy equipment among his belongings. Now he’s been recruited by the local espionage squad. Together they keep the zoo safe from assorted enemies, as well as face international threats.

Also planning: Patagonia Penguins which takes place long before this but is connected via being about Martin's parents.

My Baby’s a Werewolf

Summary: Single Dad, Sebastian’s, toddler daughter, Amber, gets bitten by a “big dog” one evening and becomes a little werepup. Now her dad is handling the pressures of being a single dad as well as trying to get his daughter back to normal.

Obscure Science

Summary: Rejected scientist Dr. Darwin Rose finds new employment with an off-the-record agency that focuses on well…obscure and bizarre occurrences, whether they be paranormal, supernatural, fantastical, or seem like something from science fiction, this agency investigates it all. Darwin is paired up with another scientist, Dr. Cassidy Blue, and together they have some crazy escapades.

Shady Acres

Summary: Sydney, freshly graduated from high school, goes to spend the summer with her older brother Ryan at his cabin. They set up trail cameras for fun but soon get unexpected photos that introduce them to whole new oddities that the woods can offer.

Title Under Construction

Summary: A small town has become plagued by a mysterious creature that keeps eating the inhabitants.

Fanfic WIPs

A Scientific Romance Series

A series of Penguins of Madagascar fics about Kowalski the penguin and his invention unexpectedly pairing him up with the penguins' arch nemesis: Dr Blowhole and how they’re making this relationship work.

Spin Offs:

Scientist Overboard

Summary: Francis and Kowalski have been dating for over a year when Kowalski and the others go on a mission out at sea. Kowalski finds himself washed overboard during a bad storm, waking up without any memory on an island. He and his spirit guide then attempt to return to New York while the others try to find him.

Haunted Mansion

Summary: Blowhole, Kowalski, and their children decide to go on a family vacation, but get sidetracked by a haunted mansion's advertisement that Blowhole couldn't pass up. Will include 2 guest OCs of my friend @insert-meaningful-username. A Franski fic with bonus fankids.

Collaborative WIPs with @insert-meaningful-username

Mallory Manor (Title Under Construction)

Summary: Rose sneaks into the sketchy old Mallory Manor at the end of the street and discovers far more than she bargained for.

Clandestine Affairs

Summary: During the biggest heist they’ll ever pull off, infamous criminal duo Show Biz planned on robbing one of the richest and highly valuable connections to have, Julien Prince. However, they’ve finally been caught by their rivals. With the heroes winning this battle, surely things will now be brought to justice...until, the charges are read. Sentence to death for...murdering the Senator of Delaware?!? NOW, our heroes must team up with the baddies to end this confusion, solving the mystery of the true mastermind before the crooks are falsely put to death for the only crime they didn’t commit.

Caretaker of Madagascar (Penguins of Madagascar series)

Summary: Some believe misfortune can bring people together. Others believe that destiny has the power to interconnect lives, whether those lives wanted to or not. Call it a coincidence. Call it fate. Call it a despicable force of nature. Either way, nothing could've stopped the fact that Bridget Ailith, a cantankerous new zookeeper, found herself forced to team up with the Penguins to undo a machine's disastrous effects. Doesn't help that those penguins are now—

Do You Read Me, 00FU? (Subnautica / Neebs Gaming inspired series)

Summary: Hired aboard Alterra’s prestigious and pristine spaceship, The Aurora, space engineer rookie Appsro finally gets his opportunity to voyage across the galaxy… Until it fucking crashes onto an uncharted pelagic planet. Alone and stranded on quarantined 4546B, all Appsro has in his survival skill set is his ingenuity, some tools, stubbornness, and the aid of a few (debatable if helpful or not) Alterra HQ Operators. Can he prevail and escape the treacherous deep waters, enormous aquatic monsters, and the lethal thousand-year-old bacteria that feast upon the planet? Probably not. He’s fucked.

#intro post #writerblr intro

[arithecreatorsstuff]

Things You Should Never Say To a Chronic Illness Survivor

This is a list of things that are just not cool to say to anybody with a chronic condition. I have fibromyalgia, which is a very complicated way of saying everything hurts, and no one knows why. I've heard most of this crap first hand. Seriously, y'all know this stuff doesn't help, knock it off.

"You don't look sick." Uh, yeah. Invisible illness doesn't outwardly advertise. While we may not look sick, you look like an ass saying that. 0/10, please stop.

"You're too young to be sick." You say that to a pediatric cancer patient? No? Then realize sickness can hit at any age. Another 0/10, stop it.

"It can't be that bad, you're always smiling." Here's the thing... most of us in this hellboat do not, surprisingly, like to be seen when we're not on our game, and we honestly want to just die. Unless you, like a certain very fictional SCP Foundation Doctor, can swap bodies at will, you have no freaking clue how anyone else feels. -10/10, say it again and we can and will find someone to smack the stupid out of you on our behalf.

"Are you still sick/are you better yet/you still haven't recovered yet?" Uh, yeah. Chronic illness doesn't just vanish. Supremely unhelpful, hurtful, and the next person who asks me this personally will find out I can still bitchslap with the best of them. -11/10, delete this query from your vocabulary.

"You can't always be in this much pain." No, some days are even WORSE. And the stress from dealing with unbelievers stings as much as our illnesses. Again, spend an hour in our bodies, you'll sing a new tune. -9/10, if you don't know, don't judge.

"You're just miserable." No shit, asshole. We're in pain all the time. If we complain, 9 times out of 10, we're not bullshitting you. Trust us. If we don't complain, it still hurts. For some of us it even hurts more to complain all the time. -20/10, say this one more time, we dare you.

"Have you tried (insert treatment/supplement/exercise here)?" Uh, probably. But not everything works for everybody. And some exercises just make it worse. 0/10, stop it.

"You just need therapy." While therapy helps deal with the condition, it WILL NOT FIX A GODSDAMNED CHEMICAL IMBALANCE/PHYSICAL DEFORMITY IN YOUR BRAIN BY ITSELF. You wouldn't say this to a person with a brain tumor, quit saying it to us. -11/10, do your research and learn something.

"Try to reduce stress." Uh... my body is the PRIMARY SOURCE of my stress, as it decided it hates me. So, unless you got a spare meatsuit behind your desk, this is just useless. -20/10, quit it.

"I know how you feel." No, no you do not, not unless you're trapped in your own circle of this particular hell. -25/10, this WILL result in me punching the offender if I hear this one more damn time.

"You're faking it/Fibromyalgia doesn't exist/you're just trying to get attention." Yeah, because being in CONSTANT UNBEARABLE AGONY 24/7/365 is just soo much fun. Look, no one really believed in radiation before the Curies, but it exists, and can be proven. Unlike the so-called intelligence of the idiot saying this. -30/10, if you think this, would you kindly stay the fuck away from us, as you're just a fool.

"You'll feel better after a good sleep." Assuming our bodies even let us, which is rare. And for me at least, I think the last good sleep I had was getting my gallbladder out, not that it helped. 0/10, just shove it.

"You'll feel worse in a few years." Really? Cause I legit want to die now. -1000/10, if you get the urge to say this, punch yourself in the eye and save us the trouble.

"Try (insert whatever diet here), it'll help." Not always an option on a fixed income, my dudes.

"There are people worse off than you." This pisses me off on two levels. One, comparing traumas/illnesses doesn't do much. Two, this is true for almost everybody. -250/10, mean, rude, and simply unhelpful.

"Everybody feels like that." ALL THE TIME? No? Then stfu. -1000/10, again, feel the urge to say this, punch yourself in the eye and save us the trouble.

"You're no fun anymore." Neither is our illness. -10/10.

"Why can't you just snap out of it?" DID YOU REALLY FUCKING THINK WE HAVEN'T TRIED THAT, YOU IDIOT? Chronic illness does not work like that AT ALL. -2000/10, never say this.

"Have you tried losing/gaining weight?" It makes very little difference. -10/10, shut up and mind your business instead of our waistlines.

"You're not really trying to get better." Yes, yes we are. And this doesn't do anything but anger us. The very notion we like being this way implies just how dumb people can be. -1000/10, just stop this crap.

#fibromyalgia sucks #chronic illness sucks major rancid donkey dick #and if you dont know now you know

[pinkandpurple360]

I dunno... I'm not saying you don't make good points but fizz during "2 minutes notice", (a number where he was free to say whatever he wanted, act however he wanted, literally ripping off his costume to destroy his perfect brand image) still acted quite raunchy and sexual. Shaking his ass, smacking his ass, sensually stroking his stomach, all with a huge smirk on his face. If the lust act was a total ruse, I don't think he'd be doing any of that?

I mean yeah and that was one of the points though. Did it not come across. It feels like he kept switching between “I don’t like being sexualised” to doing it without even being asked to. Earlier in the episode he’s acting very differently saying he doesn’t like the dolls and he admits to mammon that he doesn’t want fans looking at him in that way. But he loves it at lust? Viv also said the performance at Ozzies isn’t the real him the baby girl persona at Ozzies home is. Even though….we see that he uses charm to hide things from Oz and cute faces to get his way. And with blitzø he’s much less performative because he doesn’t need to be charming, but the other extreme is true, he is putting on his nastiest front to protect himself against someone he thinks is out to get him.

Again this is why I wish we could see him talk to someone from his past who always knew him in the “back stage” someone who he trusts and who he doesn’t try to charm/scare away. But who? 🙁

And then?? When he’s on stage again you’re right, it’s the exact same cheeky persona we’re used to. Thank goodness. The usual Fizz. But he said it’s the last time ? 🥲 is it real or is it fake? There’s even a throw away line against the doll things but at the same time he’s fine with being all lusty on stage which is ok but…aren’t we building towards the fact that he doesn’t want to be sexualised by his audience anymore..?

Then, surprisingly Asmodeus the sin of lust apparently, I keep forgetting that part, makes an unhappy face at that strip part, which he later changes his face again to a smile of adoration, and I can’t figure out what that’s about. Is it supposed to be saying that theyll be very exclusive private and monogamous from now on? Is Ozzie less ok with this image than Fizz is? Because we’re led to believe when fizz is at Ozzies, doing this exact thing he’s truly himself…but Viv just said he isn’t?? Since when has seeing fizz perform that way made Oz uncomfortable can these characters be consistent for five seconds ?

Also I’m sorry but “keep that guy far away from me” way back in Ozzies wasn’t the foreshadowing masterpiece everyone claims it is. A fan having four of the things he just advertised doesn’t mean he hates the product and doesn’t want anyone sexualising him except for Ozzie. That means the stage persona doesn’t have any authenticity behind it. Also, the in universe “fandom” immediately goes from sexualising fizz to sexualising “fizzarozzie” the pairing. The fact these same fans who made him uncomfortable and bought the dolls all knew he was with Oz the whole time isn’t actually wholesome at all? Maybe include fans of the dolls crying or something? There’s always some stans who get upset at a reveal like that, while others are happy. The audience should have at least been a mixed bag.

Also maybe I’m going off topic but the fandom insert was a…strange choice,, the definition of fan-service, unless what they’re maybe trying to do is build up to make commentary on how fans of celebs, shipping real life people that are dating, makes a celebrity couple uncomfortable and pressured to share more of their personal lives than they want to. And to create a “couple persona” just for the cameras. That’s not something I see touched on much and it’s kinda Bojacky sorta. Just imagine the two of them being interviewed by the press then it’s accidentally revealed that they were talking to Oz and a fizzbot, while the actual fizz is in the Bahamas.

Basically fizz is juggling personalities and id like if he could, yknow, pick one. Kinda like Loona, Stolas, and apparently, Millie in that regard.

#helluva boss #helluva boss critical

[exeggcute]

there's a developing story in Australian media about Tiktok pixels collecting unauthorised data in an aggressive manner via their ads on thrid party websites, and I was wondering what a Professional like yourself made of it

ooh reading into this now... full disclosure that (1) until/unless I get another job in adtech I am technically not a Professional anymore lol and (2) pixel tags weren't a big component of my last role so I only have a fairly basic understanding of how they work. but from what I'm seeing here it sounds like the main issue with tiktok rn isn't the data collection per se, since these pixel tags are functionally identical to the ones employed by facebook and others, just that tiktok isn't obtaining user consent the way other companies are ostensibly do. although even that seems like a convenient lead-in for the whole Oh My God A But Chinese Company Is Doing It thing.

and tbf I kinda can pull that in both directions—on one hand facebook in particular has gotten in a lot of trouble before for bad data collection practices and putting that data in the hands of people who used it to (maybe, allegedly) sway public opinion, so the general fear underpinning this thing is like, not unfounded right. (even though I don't think the issue behind the cambridge analytica scandal was centered around tracking pixels specifically?) on the other hand the very nature of facebook's rocky history re. data and privacy proves that western companies can and will spy on their users and it's for sure disingenuous to act like ~shady foreign governments~ are the only ones with any incentive to do so lol.

I guess you could argue that facebook's incentive for all the spying was simply Making Money, even if they took money from people who did use that spy data to spread propaganda; like, to the parent company, the propaganda wasn't the goal. whereas many will obviously argue that with tiktok data some undefined form of propaganda is the goal. but seeing that tiktok ads are a multi-billion dollar enterprise(!) I'm way more inclined to believe that tiktok is also spying for the sake of Making Money. clearly a whole fucking lot of money!

this is something I've for sure said before but I also wholeheartedly believe (and to some extent, know, although again pixel tracking isn't my exact wheelhouse) that advertising data is a lot less granular and therefore less useful than most people imagine it to be, which severely limits the kind of compromising shit you can pull under normal circumstances.

even in the article I linked, where they talk about tiktok pixels being able to track the shopping/browsing habits of users, basic device info, and occasionally some PII like phone numbers and email addresses... like, okay, so let's say tiktok knows that [email protected] used an iphone to look at a website that sells orthopedic shoe inserts. or even maybe something more salacious like, idk, questionably legal gas station dick pills. from a "let's use tiktok to spread propaganda" perspective I really struggle how that information would be valuable or what you'd do with it other than emailing that person outright to taunt them about their fucked up feet and/or dick? (if the goal is to show people certain kinds of content in tiktok's app then certainly you have both the means to do so and plenty of behavioral data to draw up on in the app itself. it's a literal video platform lol.) otoh from a "let's use this data to create advertising segments" perspective then you can easily monetize this info by telling advertisers that you know a guy who's a prime target for ads about podiatry treatments or whatever, in which case advertisers are more eager to spend money on ads because they think they're talking to a relevant audience. and in that case advertisers don't really care what the guy's name or email is, just that he ticks certain boxes that make him a worthwhile use of ad dollars. and even in cases where bad actors do want more specific data for shady purposes, it's pretty difficult to collect it and even harder to propagate it across different platforms; one thing I think gets overlooked a lot with cambridge analytica in particular is that it happened on a platform where users willingly share their full name, birthday, gender, relationship status, political leanings, job title, etc. outright, and then create connections between other people who also willingly share all that info. in some ways I don't think it could've happened anywhere but facebook, because this is a situation where you really didn't have to squeeze anything out of users—they just came out and told you! (it's also part of why non-shady facebook ads are so lucrative; you don't have to guesstimate audience data when you can literally just specify that certain ads should only be shown to people whose profile says they're between the ages of 35 and 55.) and as far as I'm aware tiktok just does not have anything remotely approaching that kind of profile data.

anyway lol. as far as I can tell I think this is a GDPR-y consent issue first and foremost, which will probably turn into a thorny battle over whether tiktok can/will be held to EU data standards or similar statues with a good helping of Chinese Company Bad mixed in for good measure. also side note but remember the whole thing about tiktok data transparency but the american company they put in charge of it is fucking oracle?

[butchsophiewalten]

So. New guy. Weird white thing. "Bon".

I have some feelings. It does seem like the general consensus (which I agree with, in this case) is that this guy is a visualization/personification of the Bon animatronic's Artificial Intelligence. Which is hilarious to me since this is exactly what I was talking about yesterday, I love being vindicated. I can't say I love what this guy looks like, though. Idk. this is way lamer to me than big blue rabbit or even like, faceless AI with no real appearance at all. But I might be Jumping the gun.

I do think this is the same guy as in the Future Starts Now image. They look the same.

It's making me think, then. that this might be kinda a mascot CyberFun uses to promote their Artificial Technology? And that this image is an advertisement featuring him? He's meant to be a blank slate so he can be adopted into any character.

It's making me think of a lot of different things we've seen associated with TWF4. I can't help but imagine him as like, a computer program, or something like that? I'm thinking of these images:

the Sha is an old teaser from Martin's twitter, and the Banny is a screenshot from Keep an Eye! I wonder if maybe these are from some interface associated with CyberFun's Artificial Technology, and that every animatronic has a controllable profile associated with their AI?

Maybe the website text we saw, "We haven't met before, have we? Pleasure to meet you, my name is-" is some kind of first time startup message, where you're meant to input the name the everyman character is taking on? Maybe that's why the Meet Bon! page's URL is hyphenated the way it is

The "Bon" here is a writable insert.

I'm also thinking of this teaser:

I definitely feel now like this is an image of "Bon" the AI being inserted into Bon the animatronic and like, becoming his brains. This is Bon being born.

I also can't go without mentioning this old stuff from /bonsroom!

'"Bon" is still here. So am I" feels weightier now than it ever has...

#just spitballing lots of ideas about the new guy #making me think. #chirps

[denis-local]

YALL, ITS YA BOI, GR4Y, AND I AM *BACK* WITH SOME *QUESTIONS*!! *insert fleshcousin yay sfx*

1. how many people buy the 💖yassified💖 fafa (i'd eat it tbh)

2. where'd boots get the 💖yassified💖 boots!? gawhdamn those are long

3. did cashier open the icecream freezer yet, i wanna buy some. (bonus, is there a 💖yassified💖 icecream flavor?)

4. Does Yassi-Spray exist?? Possibly under a different product name than Yassi-Spray? (bear spray, but for fending off the 💖yassified💖)

5. why in the FUCK is denis' tail getting stretched to oblivion in the 💖yassify💖 spectrum comic, i need to know (on the last few panels)

6. what new things can williamplayz (willyslayz) do now that he's 💖yassified💖

7. can pest sing (if so, which lady gaga song since he likes lady gaga)

8. has kasper ever tried to kill/execute (un)pleasant

9. can the 💖yass-virus💖 transfer through particles and what not

10. to add onto the last question, does kasper sneeze '💖yassify-particles💖' or something

11. oh dear dont tell me the 💖yassified💖 know how to do marketing and advertising, business, even...

12. how the FUCK did MR ring the doorbell (in the comic) when he has no hands

13. is kasper necessarily 'mad' at drretro for how she treats him (LIKE A LAB RAT. unacceptable smh)

14. does bive do blogs on the internet or something how that they're 💖yassified💖, instead of being a detective? OR DO THEY DO BOTH NOW

15. where does spud get his nails done

16. is split edible. strawberry.

17. what was the cocoon process like for pilby, how tf would it even work (since they're humanoid n stuff)

18. if bive gave reddy the 💖yass-virus💖, how the fuck did she do it?? some sorta malware program?

19. is lampert still a germophobe now that he's 💖yassified💖

20. did wallter and mark get back together perhaps (probably not)

21. what stuff DOES pest shoplift

22. what type of music does poob play at the parties

23. okay so yknow how fleshcousin has a big hole in the middle of their head? was that changed during the 💖yassification💖 process?

24. if pest bakes pie, he should start a bakery.

25. last but not least question: did kasper change their gamertag when they got 💖yassified💖.

shitton of questions i get it, but hey, thats me. (cringe too i think idk you tell me)

Another batch of questions hehehe >:D

(Another necessary cut off bdhsfqh)

1. I'd guess a lot, they are rather tasty tho also hallucinogenic

2. They probably found them in the back of the koby somewhere also they'd probably be one of the first mannequins to be infected lol

3. Never, he's hogging it all </3 (yes, mainly being sold at Crem's shop and Enphoso's store)

4. Just normal spray will do tbh, it's why Sarah carries it around ever since the outbreak started lmfao

5. My tail got infected *sobs* but dw Denis neva dies

6. More princess dresses with full faces of makeup much to Jermey's joy

7. Idk, but even if they could they would never do it haha

8. Kasper def has experimented some ways (Probably same as canon)

9. At first it was purely through bites so technically you could still smooch your yassified partner and not get infected, but as of late it seems to be getting more and more contagious. To the point it may be airborne now. Luckily Enphoso's store already has special air conditioners!

10. No, thankfully they cannot spread it through their germs. Not at all actually.

11. They absolutely do know how to do marketing and advertising </3 Enphoso is NOT helping

12. He found a way hehe

13. At first definitely, but he seems to have already forgotten about it! So he kinda forgives her!

14. Still does blogs, but it seems her new advertisements for the blog seem to be luring more people in. More people to spread the truth to!

15. Ya mama (jk, they were done by MrManeuver has a side business and for good prices!!)

16. No!!! Don't eat her cries

17. They probably got super tired and hungry at first, then made themself a cocoon, slept in it for a few days, and came out elegant as hell

18. Someway somehow a bite was enough. Even creatures made of materials that are not flesh don't seem to be safe either.

19. Yes absolutely, they probably have that clean girl aesthetic now

20. I think they're working on it (polite and fun don't mix well either I guess ah)

21. Still mainly coins, but will snatch a few lipstick tubes here and there. Now he can get away qith it more easily haha

22. Licky by Larry Tee and Princess Superstar (listen with headphones y'all)

23. Nah it's still there unless it mimics someone then they will just do the usual haha

24. He should! Maybe then he'll stop stealing coins haha

25. She would have, but he doesn't have enough robux </3

#regretevator au #yass infection au #ask post #funny lil questions haha #perfect excuse to infodump muwahahaha #also the next part is almost done #but my discord kittens /j dont gotta worry bout that they see the pages early #>:3

[asccrearad]

Vanny is The Entity (AKA MXES).

... I know how that sounds, but here me out-

(Long (Maybe?) post. HW2 Spoilers below!)

(This theory assumes that GlitchMimic is true.)

((Also, sorry if this is hard to understand, I'm just trying to get my thoughts out))

So. The secret ending of Help Wanted 2 is pretty out of left field.

After collecting a glitching, purple coin from Mystic Hippo, the player inserts it into a Princess Quest 4 arcade machine, which the player finds earlier in their playthrough. After playing the game, and later navigating through the castle, the Player encounters the old man from the previous 3 games. The player gives their VANNI mask, and receives a Glitchtrap plushie, while the old man says that it is a fair trade.

The player then enters the Elevator from Sister Location, and rides it into a claw machine, where they have to give up their plush to Vanny. When Vanny gets the plush, she holds Glitchtrap in her hand, then squished him, causing a red cloud to billow out from her hand.

What interested me was the achievement which is connected with this ending:

The wording there is.. Strange, no? It kind of reads like a program giving an output on something, instead of something a human would say.

Almost like an Antivirus giving a report after scanning a computer.

So then, I was reminded of MXES, the entity created by Gregory and Vanessa, whose main purpose is to keep the Mimic contained. I started looking between Vanny and MXES, and noticed many design similarities.

The shape of the head, being unlike any other rabbit characters in this franchise, the similar eye-shapes, and the similar ear styles. They also share similar mannerisms to Glitchtrap, even if they are opposed to him. They even both share connections to Princess Quest (MXES sharing similarities in design to the Goopbunnies, and Vanny showing up at the end of PQ4.)

But how could Vanny be MXES? Isn't she just an alter ego of Vanessa's?

.. You'd be correct. That doesn't mean she couldn't split off from her, and become her own entity, though.

In Tales From The Pizzaplex, the stories B-7, and B-7 2 tell us the story of a boy named Billy who, after watching a (strange, to me) advertisement for Freddy Fazbear's, was convinced he wanted to be a robot. He later realized that this wasn't what he actually wanted. He wound up in the hospital, where all of the modifications he made to himself were removed. However, the mass still had life in it, and was essentially its own personality.

The rest of the story doesn't matter to this theory, it just shows that what I described with Vanny could happen.

However, Vanessa didn't have any kind of modifications made to her, like Billy had. So where would Vanny end up, if she became her own entity after PQ3 was completed?

I think that she ended up in the VANNI mask/network. When Vanessa and Gregory returned to contain Glitchtrap/Mimic, they discovered that she was still there, and gave her a new purpose as MXES.

I'm not sure if I actually believe this, but I thought it was interesting to think about, and wanted to share it. If anyone has anything to say about it, please do!

#help wanted 2 #hw2 spoilers #fnaf help wanted 2 #fnaf vanny #fnaf mxes #fnaf theory #fnaf #five nights at freddy's

[handeaux]

18 Modern Words That Had Very Different And Curious Meanings In Old Cincinnati

Some words we use daily today meant something totally different more than a century past. Here are a few normal, everyday terms that once had surprisingly altered definitions long ago in Cincinnati.

Affinity In the early 1900s, “affinity” meant something very much like “soulmate” does today. In Cincinnati newspapers, “affinity” usually shows up in articles about divorce. Many a husband sought a divorce because he had found his “affinity”, and it wasn’t the woman he was married to. Jacob Pels told the Cincinnati Post [31 October 1907] on the occasion of his second divorce: “Twice I thought I found my affinity, and twice I made a bad mistake.”

Blue Today, if you’re blue, you are mildly depressed. Back in Old Cincinnati, “blue” meant risqué, or even obscene. Cincinnati ministers erupted in indignation when Millie DeLeon, the “Girl In Blue” (wink, wink!) performed at Heuk’s People’s Theater on Vine Street in 1901. And, when Cincinnati Redlegs Manager Clark Griffith excoriated the team after a dismal spring training game in Georgia, the telegraph company refused to carry the Enquirer’s dispatch [14 March 1909]: “Wishing to be perfectly accurate, we wrote out the rest that Griff said, but the telegraph man would not send it. He said his wire was a family wire of good and regular habits, and he would not insult it by asking it to carry a lot of blue language.”

Boom This old term had nothing to do with firecrackers or other explosions. It meant to promote, or to hype, or to publicize. When Judge Andrew J. Pruden wrote to the editor praising a Cincinnati Post editorial, the Post headlined his letter [6 January 1893]: “Judge Pruden Indorses The Post In Its Efforts to Boom The City.” An editorial an 1888 edition the old McMicken Review at the University of Cincinnati encouraged students to “Boom the ‘Varsity!” Cynical Thomas Emery, a pioneer real estate developer, told the Post [1 July 1886] he was concerned about future investments: “Boom Cincinnati? Can you boom a dead dog? I don’t mean that Cincinnati is dead exactly, but she’s overbuilt.”

Brace To brace somebody meant to cheat them, and Cincinnati was swarming with galoots just salivating at the opportunity to brace someone. The bracers needed to watch out who they braced, though. Frank Y. Grayson in his classic “Pioneers of Night Life” tells the tale of Frank James, Jesse’s brother, getting fleeced at a Cincinnati card game: “James dropped $800 on the night. He knew that he had been braced. Before he left he said genially, ‘Well, boys, I’ll say one thing for you, you get it easier than I do.’”

Cake We’re not talking pastry here. This word figures into one of the most obscure lines in Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s classic “Casey at the Bat” from 1888:

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;

A “hoodoo” we still recognize as a jinx, but a “cake”? In 1888, everyone knew that a cake was a fool. Within the context of baseball, a cake was a loser.

Candlelight Many a romantic evening has been conducted by candlelight. In the days before electricity, “candlelight” was a time of day, specifically that time of evening when you lit your candles. The Cincinnati Gazette [11 June 1857] presented this line: “The preacher gave notice that, if the weather was fair, he would preach at candlelight, but, as it sprinkled a little, there was no congregation.”

Card There is not much call for classified advertisements these days, when everything is advertised online. Ads used to be the main source of income for newspapers, who called small advertisements “cards,” as in this example from the Enquirer [22 November 1890]: “Mrs. Pollock did not stop at advertising her business in circulars. She inserted a card in the Sunday Newsdealer.”

Cockpit Did you ever wonder why the place an airplane pilot sits is called a cockpit? It’s named for an actual pit in which roosters (or cocks) fought to the death. Cock-fighting was popular in Cincinnati, though intermittently illegal. The Cincinnati Commercial [11 January 1847] advertised a new venue: “A regular Cock Pit having been established in the rear of the “Lunch House,” fights will take place three times a week.” If cock-fighting was too high-class, Cincinnati also hosted rat-pits from time to time in which small dogs battled rodents.

Combination Strictly speaking, in the 1800s, a “circus” was that entertainment taking place withing a sawdust “ring” which in Latin was “circus.” The other aspects of the modern circus – the traveling zoo known as the “menagerie” and the “side-show” or “exposition” – were considered separate enterprises. The first impresarios to “combine” all of these shows called them “combinations.” So, we have the Cincinnati Gazette [8 June 1872] reporting: “Warner’s big combination show attracted an immense crowd of spectators yesterday afternoon and evening.” And old John Robinson advertised his traveling spectacular as “Robinson’s Great Combination.”

Dashboard We use “dashboard” today to talk about status displays on our computer screens, which derived from the instrument panel in our automobiles, which referred to the array of gauges and dials in an aeroplane. But there was a much earlier and practical use of this word as the actual wooden board at the front of a carriage that kept stones and mud from being kicked into the driver’s face. From the Cincinnati Dollar Weekly Times [1 November 1855]: “The mare was put between the thills of a nice light buggy, her harness thoroughly adjusted by the owner, the reins carefully laid over the dashboard, and the usual chapter of advice opened concerning her management.”

Drummer An old definition of this word, metaphoric in origin, has nothing to do with music. A drummer was a salesperson, usually a traveling salesman, and usually a man on commission. The Enquirer [22 December 1871] reported: “The State of Maryland has in force a statute similar to that of Tennessee and several other States, which classes ‘drummers’ selling goods by sample for houses out of the State with peddlers, and exacts a license from them so heavy as to prohibit effectually sales in those States.”

Embarrassed If you realize, after ordering at an expensive restaurant, that you left your wallet at home, you might be embarrassed. That is close to the old-time definition of this word. It meant bankrupt. The Cincinnati Gazette [27 April 1837] related the story of a scoundrel named John Law: “With him perished all Law’s hopes for regaining his personal fortune. He became embarrassed; suits were commenced against him.”

Grocery So many old-time groceries offered liquor by the glass that “grocery” came to mean almost any saloon that emphasized the hard stuff over beer. Here’s the Western Christian Advocate [20 May 1836]: “When I hear a man say ‘my cigars cost me two dollars a week’ – I should not be surprised if I see him drinking in a grocery or tavern.”

Hilarious The history of comedy reminds us that we find drunks to be humorous. Back in the day, “hilarious” did not mean funny; it meant extremely inebriated. The Enquirer [14 January 1870] recounted one such case: “Night before last, this identical phonographer, who now calls himself Henry Henderson, was found in a highly hilarious condition, enjoying the society of ugly females in a bad house on Eighth street.”

Map There are abundant synonyms for physiognomy, but Cincinnati in the 1890s had a good one – “map.” In regaling his readers with memories of post-midnight culinary delights, Frank Grayson recalled Simon the Hot-Corn Man, who slathered his steaming ears of corn with “a substance that passed as butter.” Grayson recollected how “There were a lot of greasy maps decorating Vine Street in the wake of Simon.”

Queer In recent times, “queer” has settled into a linguistic niche as a sobriquet for what used to be called “alternative lifestyles.” Around 1880, however, the primary connotation of “queer” was financial. It referred to counterfeit money. The Cincinnati Gazette [28 October 1873] reported on the trial of M.Y. Morton: “He is an old gray haired man, and told the detective that he had been ‘pushing the queer’ for thirty-five years, making a good business in buying and selling counterfeit.”

Slut Ever since it became a term of sexist opprobrium, “bitch” has been ruined as the technical name for a female canine. Few today remember that “slut” was synonymous with “bitch” and also referred to distaff dogs. An advertisement in the Cincinnati Commercial Tribune [21 June 1870] sought: “Dogs – Two full blood Scotch rat terriers dog and slut. Must be a year old or older.”

Snide You rarely hear this word today outside the phrase “snide remark.” When you do, it often has the tint of sarcasm. In old Cincinnati, however, “snide” meant fake, cheap or counterfeit. The Cincinnati Daily Star [23 January 1880] recorded that “Ed. Kline was pulled in yesterday for selling ‘snide’ jewelry.” The term applied to people, too. The Enquirer [5 April 1880] noted: “A snide party styling themselves Tennessee Minstrels were rotten-egged and mobbed in Easton, Maryland, on Friday night.”

#cincinnati language #cincinnati slang

[floriianthefool]

Announcement y'all!!

I'm posting a new fic (another reader-insert) with mer Bruce Wayne as the love interest. I've been posting it on ao3 for the past month as it's over 10k, but, just wanted to post the blurb and first chapter here for advertising reasons.

Hope y'all enjoy!

-

A dark shape glides just under the surface, fins slicing through the waves. The water churns, a thick shiny tail smacking the surface.

He presses down from above, you bent over backwards on the railing, clutching at his shirt, feeling weightless. “Please, don’t do this. Please! Don’t let go!” Eyes burning, you try to grab him.

He lets go.

You hit the water with a splash.

In which you and Gotham Bay Aquarium's newest resident meet, and the rest, as they say, is history.

-

“Creepy little fucks, aren’t they?”

You merely hum, continuing to gaze into the dark blue waters of the tank, encompassing the entire wall at the end of the winding hallway, thick glass reaching the ceiling clear and smooth. Undulating waves of blue light wash over the room, the two of you all that was left of the evening shift, even the last of the cleaners all gone. Quiet. Silence thick like water around you, a muffled quality to the air, submerged in the microcosm of that moment.

“Very creepy,” you agree as a dark shape glides through the shoulder-high swaying sea grass planted at the bottom of the tank, lit up by the sea grass’s dim glow.

You could stay like this for an eternity, just you and Michael, gazing into the tank as the world went on beyond the walls of Gotham Bay Rehabilitation Centre and Aquarium. Just disappear for a bit, lose yourself for a fraction of eternity. Finally do the soul-searching you had told your mother this internship would grant you.

A hand briefly brushes against your own, soft, lightly calloused. “Lost in your head there for a bit, were you?”

“Just thinking,” you say, the skin between your eyebrows pinched as you cross your arms, uneasy. Something flutters in your stomach.

You had thought Michael would be over this, this thing he saw between you that you couldn’t bring yourself to name, shame and embarrassment clogging your throat. What would you mother think? No. What was it with men, what was it with men and their obsession with viewing romance between any man and woman who held even the slightest cordial relationship with one another. What was it with Michael. He had been a good friend. A great friend. A fellow inexperienced intern to get berated with by Crane, to gossip with, to have fun with. He had been a good friend (and maybe, maybe he had made you feel less lonely).

You had hoped he would stay your friend.

Eyes resolutely staying on the tank, avoiding Michael’s eyes, your gaze locks onto the dark shape once more as it grows closer to where the two of you stand. Smooth, long, and lithe, fins gliding through the water seamlessly. It stills, gaze sharp, cutting despite the metre thick glass between you. Head tilting for but a brief moment, it turns, gliding up and out of sight into floor two of three of the tank aquarium, the tank spanning three floors, and only the first and second available to the public, what made the aquarium internationally famous despite its location in Gotham, New Jersey, the cesspit of the east coast.

At least it wasn’t Bludhaven.

“Well, that was weird,” Michael comments.

You can’t help but snort, hardened resolve cracking as the forest between you melts away. “You scared h- it, dude, one look at your ugly mug and zip.” You mime a fish zooming by.

He cracks a grin, shaking his head, chestnut curls swaying with the movement. “You sure it was my mug and wasn’t yours?”

“Hey!”

“Woah, kidding, kidding,” he grins, arms raised in peace, “didn’t mean to offend, princess.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. It was good to have him back to normal, not that strange on-edge state that had defined your relationship for the past two weeks. Your stomach settles. It was good to have your friend back.

“Well, not to kill the fun, princess, but I think we should start locking up,” he says, walking backwards away from the tank.

Not looking away from the tank, you call your agreement.

The feeling is back. Not the cutting gaze, the knife just grazing your carotid artery, the animal part of your brain on edge. No. It was the other feeling. The heaviness. The weight of eyes pressing down, ever-observant, ever-present. No particular emotion, just that heaviness settling down upon you, inescapable and molasses thick.

With one last glance to the top of the tank, you turn to join Michael, ignoring the feel of eyes on your back.

“Yo, Mick, slow dow…” you trail off as he saunters by the staff-only door. “Mick, where’re you going?”

“To lock up.”

“Then come on,” you say, gripping the door handle as he continues on his merry jaunt. The fluttering in your stomach is back, faster than before.

What is he doing?

“Idiot,” you hiss before scurrying after him. “Dude,” you say as you grip his arm,” what are you doing?”

“Sadly, not that hot babe from this morning,” he quips, winking, still walking down the hallway, still pulling you with him. As he heads in the direction of the aquarium entrance, he flexes the bicep under your hands, and you scoff.

“Dude, stop being so immature. I mean, why aren’t we locking up right now. Where are you going?”

He finally stills, brown-eyed stare crinkled in a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves. “I thought we’d start bottoms up first today.” At your surprise, he flushes. “That’s if you don’t mind. You don’t, do you?”

You glance at the manta ray tank the two of you had stopped by, a large ray gliding past at that very moment. You fight back your momentary sense of awe before turning back to Michael. Something loosens within you. It was just Micheal being dumb as usual, forgetting to tell you stuff until the last moment. “I don’t mind, but you should have told me instead of running off. Plus, why bottoms up?”

“Well,” he says, other arm up and scrunching his curls between thick fingers for but a moment. He tugs at one splayed across his forehead and drooping over his eye. “If we did it bottoms up, the last thing we’d see before leaving’d be the main tank, y’know? Thought it’d be cool.”

He was so… strange today. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a Michael this nervous before. An easily flustered and blushy Michael.

You let go of his arm, crossing your own. “Okay, cool,” you say. “Let’s go.”

And so the two of you lock up. Switching off lights, adjusting water temperatures, changing tank lighting, feeding, recording measurements, administering medicine, cleaning tanks, locking doors, and more. Much, much, much more.

Finally, exhausted and sweaty and stinky, smelling of fish, you arrive outside the observation room for the aquarium’s biggest tank. It’s star. It’s prize. The pearl of the east coast.

A similarly tired and sweaty and stinky Michael trudges up behind you.

“Hurry up,” you pant, resting your forehead on the cool metal of the door. You pull at your blue t-shirt, the weave sticky and clinging to your skin. Why couldn’t they have designed a better uniform? You could feel your trousers sticking to you as well. “Michael,” you call again.

“Coming, just- just give me a minute,” he huffs, loud footsteps growing closer. “Let- let me just catch my breath. Just a second.”

He sags onto you as he reaches the door, sweat slick on his face.

“Gross,” you mutter, reaching for the handle.

A hand drops on yours, heavy.

“Ow!” You jolt. “Dude, what’s your problem!” You cradle your hand as it stings, throbbing in time with your pulse. You blink back sudden tears.

“Sorry, sorry,” he rushes, sweaty face turning red.

“You should have thought of that before you tried to break my hand!”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He reaches for you and you flinch, backing away from the door. His gaze darts between you and the door, your hand and the door handle, before finally settling on your face. “I’m sorry, I am so sorry.”

“Then why did you do that,” you hiss, scowling.

He scratches his neck, eyes once more darting away before he forces them back on you. “It’s just, don’t you want to see the tank before we leave?”

“No.”

“Oh come on,” he groans. He says your name and then, “don’t you want just a glance. Just one. Crane isn’t here to tell us off, we can just take a peek and then go. Just a peek. A quick looksy. We won’t get a look like that again.”

“We can’t even go near the tank, it’s too dangerous by ourselves.”

“From above then, on the walkway.” At your raised brow, he rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a wimp. Just a look. I’ll go by myself if you won’t come,” he says, moving away, away to the door leading to the main tank.

You start towards the door, glance back at Michael. Still aching fingers curving around the cool handle, you glance at him again. He was really going alone, just to look into the tank. By himself. Alone. No one to call for help to if he fell in. Hand curled around the handle, metal warming, you glance back after him again.

Idiot.

“Michael, wait up,” you call, running after him. He slips through the door, letting lose a brief bark of laughter. You and Michael. Michael and you. You always running after him as he did something stupid.

Slipping through the door, you slow as you follow him to the stairs leading to the walkways, one of two intersecting at the centre of the tank, high above the waves.

“Just a peek,” you call. “Just one, then we need to switch off the lights.” You pull yourself up the stairs, gripping the cold railings.

“Yeah, yeah, now come on!” he laughs.

Rolling your eyes, you hurry, water-proof boots thunking on the metal. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

“Hah! Coming.”

“Idiot,” you say as you join him at the intersection. “At least be creative.”

“Hey, hey, just didn’t want to offend you, y’know.” One side of his mouth quirks up into a smile. “Women don’t like it, y’know. They like gentlemen.”

“And I suppose you’re an expert.” You smile back, leaning on the rib-high railing.

“That’s me,” he says as he joins you. “Michael Wellings, knower of women.”

You just snort.

For a moment, there’s silence as you both gaze down into the undulating waters of the tank. There is a dark shape, long and lean, just below the surface. It cuts through the water, twisting and turning, staying near the surface.

This is nice. Just like the old times. Well, not that old, but still. It was nice just… hanging out with Michael.

“Well, this was nice.” You turn to him, smile faltering at his stare, emotionless, his face blank. His face twitches, a barely there pull at his muscles before he smiles back, wide, teeth gleaming. “Michael-“

“So, um,” he stops. Another pull at his muscles, a twitch. A strain to his smile. “About, about last week, did you change your mind?”

“My mind? About wha-“

“Oh, y’know. My offer.”

Oh God, not this again. Your smile drops, a furrow developing between your brow. You can’t you can’t believe him.

Just, just men and their fucking audacity.

“I can’t believe you, dude, did you-“

“Just answer the question,” he interrupts, still smiling, still strained, still tense. He clenches his fists.

“No!” you explode. “No, I didn’t change my mind! Did you bring me up here just to fucking corner me. Get me alone and-"

“Why? I’ve been so nice and-“

“So what! Being nice entitles you to a relationship!”

Your stomach churns, the butterflies now fucking elephants. You clench and unclench your fists, face and ears hot, as if steaming.

“No! But, but you led me on-“

“I didn’t lead you on! I just wanted to be your friend! Your friend!” Your heart is thundering in your chest, a lump at the back of your throat, eyes stinging.

“Why can’t you just like me?!” He finally explodes, snarling. Face red and twisted, he’s unrecognisable. He strides forwards and you back away, jittery as he crowds you against the railing, the cold metal digging into your spine. Oh God, he was so angry. Furious. “I have been so nice to you. No one else wanted to hang out with you, no one except me! Me! And you fucking led me on! Am I not good enough? Am I-“

“Michael-“

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!” He’s panting, a vein throbbing on his forehead, his shout echoing around the room of the tank. You lean further back as he crowds in, neck craning over the side of the railing as he braces his hands on your shoulders, still pushing in.

He’s too close. Too close.

Eyes blurring, you grip the railing, jittery and shaky and weak. You need to calm him down. Get him to calm down and step back and give you come space. Your breath speeds up, head pounding to the beat of your galloping pulse.

“Michael-“

“It’s the fish, isn’t it?”

“Wha-“

“It’s the fish.” He steps back and you crumple into yourself, sucking in great heaves of air, gasping, shaky hands grasping at the cloth of your trousers at the knee. You need to calm down. Calm down.

But your breathing stays rapid, stays harsh and quick as you can’t breathe.

You grip your knees, nails digging in. Grounding you. “M- Michael, what are you-“

“Quiet!”

You glance up. He’s calmer, red seeping away, breathing heavily through his nose. He glances down, eyes arctic cold. Your breath hitches as he leans down, crowding your space. You press back, metal digging into your spine. “Michael, Mi-“

He grabs you.

You scream, thrashing in his grip. “Michael! Michael! Let go! Please, let go!”

He struggles up, arms tight and bruising.

“No, NO!” you sob. “Michael! No! Please.” You’re still screaming as you near the edge. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening! He wouldn’t do this! You have to be dreaming. Just dreaming. You twist in his grip, buckling, heaving, scrabbling at his shirt. “Let go!” you scream. “LET GO!” You rake your nails down the side of his face.

“AGH!” he screams, stumbling, and for but a brief moment, his grip loosens.

You twist, thrashing, kicking, pulling at the iron grip around your wrists. “Let go! Let go! You fucking bas-“

He slams you into the railing. Suddenly weightless, top half hanging over the edge. Michael above pressing down, you scrabble at his shirt. “Michael! Michael, just-“

His grip on your wrist tightens for just an instant, a small fraction of eternity, a grain of sand in the hourglass of time.

He lets go.

You hit the water with a splash.

-

And that's all for today folks! The rest is up on ao3, hope you enjoy!!

#bruce wayne #DC #dc fanfic #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman #floriian: long fic #floriian: like the soft beating of a heart in a still chest (fit into me like a missing rib) #floriian