This may be a slightly silly question, but I’m curious if you’ve ever been active in any fandoms, and if so, which ones? As in making/sharing fan art, reading fanfic, or even writing some. That’s all, thank you!
Sherlock Holmes Fandom, I guess. I was inducted into the Baker Street Irregulars. And I’ve written two Holmesian stories, A Study in Emerald and A Case of Death and Honey.
last year i was eating in a fancy, large restaurant when i began to hear a rumble and the distant sound of people chanting ‘potassium, potassium’ and suddenly hundreds of people dressed as bananas flood this restaurant chanting potassium over and over and we were trapped there for a very long time because the bananas would not leave and they were everywhere
i wasn’t joking
this post has haunted me for like 3 years. every time i start to think i imagined it, it shows up on my dash again and then immediately disappears into the ether for another 17 months
Just had the wild realisation that I can write whatever I want here. This is a thing that I am allowed to do. I can scream into the void. I don’t have to tag my posts. Grammar is a social construct. It doesn’t matter who’s listening. The people I love and who love me will talk to me posts or no posts. Someone’s going to read this and smile. Even if it’s just me.
I can watch only the finales of shows to see their happy endings. I can eat cornflakes in the afternoon. I can go into bookstores just to creepily stare at the hardcovers of Victorian literature. I can write meticulous notes for subjects I’m not studying, and highlight it to Pinterest perfection. I can tell people I want to bite them out of sheer love. I can write long emails to my friends about weird slippers that remind me of them.
I can tell you that it’s been a hot year, the hottest one to date, and that April hasn’t seen a single drop of rain fall onto the earth. But it’s hanging in the air, making it heavy with moisture and that relentless, relentless heat. It’s muggy and the swamp theme I chose for my bullet journal couldn’t be more appropriate. I can tell you how I keep singing that song in my head, Corner Of My Sky, the one whose music video has Michael Sheen wrangling with an occult toaster. “The rain, the rain, the rain, thank god the rain.”
I can tell you anything I like. I can tell you that I’m afraid of being forgotten, that I’ve always longed to be famous, that I have a hard time not caring about every single little thing. I can tell you that I’m ace and I’m afraid that no one will ever love me the way I need them too, even if I love them the way that they need me to. I can tell you the nightmares have gotten better, but they’re still there, they don’t seem to want to leave me. I can tell you that I’m so much more ill and broken than I dare think about. Because I am afraid that if I start thinking about it, I shan’t stop, and then it will become everything. And I don’t want it to be everything. I can tell you that. I can tell you that I have beautiful memories, too, not just the fear and the loss and the anger.
I can tell you that I’m a performer, an entertainer, and I love making people laugh. I’m more comfortable on stage, where people are already listening, than trying to go up and make conversation to groups of strangers. I can tell you how wonderful it feels to have been able to speak to so many people all around the world, to have them know me, to listen to me, and to listen to them in turn. I can tell you that I don’t know where to draw the line sometimes, I’m never entirely sure when I’m joking, and the act easily becomes a second skin. I can tell you all of that.
I can tell you all the things that I used to tell myself in letters sealed in envelopes addressed to Future Me. And it won’t matter, and it does matter, and it’s all so fucking absurd. It doesn’t make any sense at all. Does it? I don’t know. I can tell you that I don’t know very much at all. Knock knock. Who’s there? No one. No one who? No one who matters. Knock knock. I haven’t been able to walk around for a month. This room is an oven and I’m being slow-cooked, broiled into a little Asmi pie. I read fanfiction yesterday after a long while. That was nice. I think it’s really cool that you all know me. You do know me. Sometimes better than I know myself. I can tell you that.
I can tell you the truth. I can tell you I love you. And that to be seen and to be known is a gift that I will always be grateful for. I can tell you that you don’t have to listen. But if you do, then hi! Nothing makes sense. Let’s sit in the nonsense for a while. I have biscuits. Would you like one? I’m very human. It’s one of the things that gets me so easily hurt. Maybe it happens to you too. I can tell you that my plant Crowley is surviving, unlike the others did. I can tell you that maybe you and I are, too.
It’s 8:02 in the morning. I might just eat breakfast now. It does seem like the thing to do. How weird and wonderful that is.
Have you experienced sexual assault? Are you on some level drawn to erotic media/sexual play involving CNC, rapeplay/fantasy, or other similar subjects?
my apologies if this has already been posted here but im sharing this. here is what someone said on twitter along w this image:
the central image text reads: “@everyone I HAVE BEEN RELIABLY INFORMED GUARDIAN JOURNALISTS ARE SNOOPING AROUND ASKING FOR TRANS PEOPLE TO TALK TO THEM ABOUT DIY HRT. THEY ARE PARTICULARLY LOOKING FOR UNDER-18S DOING DIY. SHOULDN’T NEED TO BE SAID, BUT DO. NOT. ENGAGE. SPREAD WIDELY. DO NOT ENGAGE. WE NEED THIS NOTICE SPREAD OUT VIA EVERY GRASSROOTS SUPPORT GROUP AND SOCIAL CIRCLE IN THE COUNTRY.
URGENT. IF THEY GET EVEN ONE TO TAKE PART IT BECOMES A NATIONAL CONVERSATION. TOP ALERT.
Guardian journos are apparently asking trans people about DIY. Trans followers: DO NOT SAY ANYTHING TO THEM. NOT A WORD.
I also know I’ve got cis mutuals who have written for the Guardian. Please know I’ve always thought less of you because of that.
do not engage with the Guardian if you’re trans and a minor. do not speak with the Guardian on DIY HRT.
heck, unless the journalist is reputable and has a track record of good reporting on trans issues, do not speak with them about DIY HRT. seek out your local organisation if you are approached by a journalist.
I obviously can’t verify the screenshot, but the guardian is a toilet, and the guidelines for media engagement posted are worth reading.
It’s never worth engaging with an interviewer that has malicious intent. There’s no good point you can make that they can’t simply redact or spend an infinite amount of time figuring out how to spin in a negative. You’ve almost certainly seen some right wing interviewers who are so inept at this that they make themselves look bad, but even they’re not worth the risk talking to. Their base does not care at best, and it’ll help them at worst.
You guys I just realized that what I’ve always wanted out of werewolf fiction is a story where lycanthropy isn’t a purely human condition
Like this dude wakes up from his wolfbender and his room is full of all these fucking chickens from local farms that he initiated into his pack. They all start clucking and crowing at the moon and when it’s full they all transform into these tiny little weird bipedal wolves with wings.
I don’t remember making this post but it’s going around again and I’m losing my shit
Imagine becoming a werewolf because you got attacked by a fucked up chicken
A wildlife rehab centre discovers that one of its patients is a lycanthrope when the full moon hits and their wolf transforms into a slightly different wolf.
*begins violently shivering in terror and whispering*
I need to be careful what I say lest the gods hear me oh God oh God oh fuck oh shit
Say more powerful people die, please you have to use this power for good
Uh fuck ok uh Donald Trump dies of a UTI and Ben Shapiro gets his teeth knocked out by a drag queen and uh uh uh Ron desantis gets run over by his own car send post
Worth noting, this is actually more Nazi than the swastika itself, which has significance to Buddhists, Hindus, Slavs, Balts, and others that massively predate its appropriation by facists.
This thing, by contrast, has only one meaning.
I WAS LOOKING UP PUNK PATCHES AND SAW ONE WITH THAT FUCKING THING ON IT WTF
no, but close. remember history, they put the star of david on, then came the slums, and then came the camps. so im just waiting for the lgbtq+ exclusion zones of poland to come here and we’ll be good to go for recreating the holocaust.
(people will unironically be like, well you can’t compare that to the holocaust because they haven’t gone to the next step yet how do you know it’ll end up there. idk i think it’s just something we shouldn’t fucking RISK?)
A while back my psychopathology class did a basic overview of gender terms because we need to understand it to understand what the statistics we’ were given mean, and all I could think of was that xkcd quartz comic.
A guy said sex was “biological gender,” another guy said that a sex that is neither male nor female is nonbinary, and another guy said that a person who’s gender does not align with their sex is “gay.”
xkcd fans are the only fandom I’ve had direct experience with where people do the stereotypical nerdy fan thing of referring to installments of the thing they like by their release order numbers instead of their titles
like I’ve never heard anyone just say “the simpsons season 7 episode 21” without also saying the episode title but I have heard people say “xkcd 2501” without also saying the title of the xkcd
Yeah, we shouldn’t expect everyone to know every comic by heart. The average internet user probably only knows 1053 and 936.
In our system, 86.4k seconds go in a day. In the French decimal (not metric time! That was never a part of the metric system!) timekeeping, 100k of their seconds went in a day; thus 1 of our seconds is 0.864 of theirs.
Even if decimal time was part of the metric system, in the end that’d be kind of like saying metric units of length are bad because 1 centimeter is equal to 0.3937007874 inches. It’s simply a case of one set of units not matching the metric units.
If methods of measuring time hadn’t been standardised among scientific minds in 18th century Europe, unlike all other types of units (length, area, volume, etc.) then decimal time would not be unusual at all.
What the hell is this doing on my tumblr dashboard in 2021. What’s happening. None of you know what this is. Nobody even heard of this when I was on it in 1998.
“Palace Chat” was a chat program that worked like club penguin except it came out almost ten years prior and it was meant for adults. When I got addicted to it in 1998 I had to be in the 1% of users under 30.
The smiley faces were default avatars you had if you didn’t make a proper account. Once you had a username you could import any image files you wanted into Palace “Props” you could edit, share, mix up and reposition to make your own avatars.
I grabbed this screenshot off google but I have literally been in this very room. Milton’s avatar looks cool, does anybody know what that’s from?
People made palace chat servers that were like elaborate exploration games with free props hidden around like items which was cool but none of the users seemed to care about that stuff so they’d just hang around the main entry room and talk all day about their sex lives or whether or not Bill Clinton ruined America.
I originally watched the world premieres of Futurama and later Invader Zim in real time with a bunch of people on “The Anime Palace.” I had a “TV Card” in my desktop PC allowing me to watch television on my computer and take screenshots. I made an avatar out of a screenshot from the intro. I had possibly one of the world’s first Invader Zim chat avatars. Then I had an argument with someone who thought it was going to be trendy just because Jhonen Vasquez made it and they didn’t believe me that I actually hadn’t heard of him before.
Sorry I re-reblog more often these days (nobody sees edit additions and nobody knows what I’m talking about if I make a whole new post??) but here are other funny memories of this obscure internet chapter:
Positioning yourself where your avatar overlaps or touches someone else’s without their permission was considered so rude a mod would step in.
Making exactly the same avatar as someone else on purpose, even if it’s just a popular video game character or whatever, was even ruder.
Every time you moved or you changed avatars, the server had to process it for everybody. Being too fidgety could lag or crash other users.
You could assign favorite avatars to hotkeys. If you mashed those keys quickly enough it would lag everyone so bad that doing this often got you a permaban.
You were able to move by either clicking or using the arrow keys but using the arrow keys or “sliding” also lagged everyone, like everyone’s chat would freeze until you stopped moving.
So a troll could just hold their arrow keys and hotkeys simultaneously to glide around the room cycling through their avatars non-stop and basically giving everyone blue screens of death.
Mods had the ability to lock you into the default avatar, which people
thought of as “stripping” you, and they could trap your avatar in place
which not only “stripped” it but displayed chains and padlocks over the
smiley face.
EVERY troll would say “….kinky” whenever that happened.
Lots of couples would make complementary avatars or avatars that could fit together.
It was possible to position yourself so your username was off screen and some people would then wear an avatar made from a piece of the room’s background image, perfectly camouflaging themselves.
Some people did this in private rooms hoping to eavesdrop on people who didn’t know this was a thing or that you could check the actual number of users in the room with you
You had to download the official Palace color palette file and apply it to your chosen image in a paint program for it not to look like complete ass when imported as an avatar
People skilled enough at making avatars look at all decent would be rewarded with rare props, mod powers, whatever
There were private rooms and private chat function but accidentally broadcasting your text as a public announcement to the whole room was one misclick away
One time a moderator disappeared with their girlfriend into a private room for a while and nobody had ANY means of contacting them to tell them they were sending their internet sex as a stream of announcements to all 100+ rooms and 1000+ users on at the time for like an hour
Crucial to your appreciation of that last note, announcements were often set up to display as speech bubbles from the mouths of like, anime characters or the MST3K robots integrated into the background images
i watched one (1) video on how to draw hands that changed my life forever. like. i can suddenly draw hands again
these were all drawn without reference btw. i can just. Understand Hands now (for the most part, im sure theres definitely inaccuracies). im a little baffled
In my superhuman story, healers are eventually employed by hospitals but can’t heal themselves and have limits on how much they can heal others. Their effectiveness varies based on personal capabilities, impacting healthcare quality in the universe. While an exceptional healer might mend a femur fracture, an average one might struggle. Some injuries remain irreparable even with multiple healers. Details matter but it’s important to give your author the benefit of the doubt.
fun fact their horns are mostly hollow! theyre full of blood vessels, and it helps them cool down ! :3
Where are they located?
My first thought was “somewhere in Polynesia, of course,” but then I remembered that since they’re bovines, that’s probably not very likely.
theyre mostly found in america now, but theyre descended from african sanga cattle!
fun fact, the three main types of cattle include the sanga (originating in sub saharan africa), zebu(originating in south asia), and taurine(originating in the levant, turkey, western iran) cattle! zebu and taurine cattle descend from two seperate domestication events, but we arent sure if the sanga was a third or is related to the taurine!
So we’re just gonna ignore the watermelon getting crushed?
Watermelon
Hey so does anyone have the nsfw version for that werewolf pic just asking
I’m sorry what
i know im op this thread has absolutely gotten out of control
hold on op, aren’t you the person who had an iq of 4?
I’m crying. Nobody’s clearing anything up, they just deflect onto the next plot twist
WHAT IS HAPPENING??????
OP’S THE GUY FROM THE HORNY IHOP WAITER POST
THE HORNY WHAT?????
Since we’re just listing them off my favorite Wereralph post is the poptart pussy one
THE WHAT?!
THIS ONE
I am so fucking concerned for the mental health of 95% of the people on this hellsite
personally i’m at 96%
This post keeps getting worse
I often find myself wondering how this website is so utterly incapable of making money, and then I see posts like this and I am violently given my answer.
For the love of god, stop asking “the what?” that’s how this continues!
GUYS stop reblogging this. OP was in the Marine Core and is technically a war criminal. He turned a blind eye when his comrades killed innocent civilians in Baghdad. He refused testify against soldiers who committed atrocities towards civilians. Stop reblogging OPs posts because that takes attention away from what OP is trying to hide.
You sure that’s me?
Like are you sure that’s me??
I’M- THATS ADAM DRIVER
Why on God’s green Earth would you expose your goddamn face wereralph. Do I even want to know why your name is wereralph? Don’t answer that.
its because i like werewolves and my real name is ralph, it’s just that simple. not everything has a crazy explanation
Me every time wereralph posts
People paid Actual Money for this website
The Wolf Master (nsfw)
The end of an era
i miss wereralph :(
pussy so fat staff had to ban me twice
THEY CAN BAN ME THREE TIMES BUT THEY CAN’T BAN THIS PUSSY
I just wanted to make this post to warn yall about it, I am not a tech genius but I wanted to get a vpn and surfshark was one I knew about so i subscribed to them because it seemed ok, that was where I fucked up.
fast forward a year and now I am trying to cancel my yearly auto-renewing subscription which costs 70 fuckin bucks, didnt find much use in surfshark as it was too laggy when using its vpn services so i go to billing and try to cancel.
there was no cancel button so that was odd, and you cant turn off auto-renew so i figure ill just get rid of my card info so it cant charge me.
i cant or at least i cant figure out how.
I go to help and find the cancellation area after scrolling past why you should keep the subscription and it tells me to contact their live support to cancel, It requires my name and gmail, I know for a fact my gmail is correct but it says its wrong and that my name is wrong no matter how many ways I enter it and I cant find a possible username anywhere on the site i could use. Its for all practical reasons impossible for me to cancel, not just the fact I cant even talk to customer support, but the people on reddit that do, talk to a bot and then the agents take months to actually turn off the subscription so it charges again and there is no refunds.
My face is having uncontrollable spasms. Great. It hurts really, really, really bad.
I think part of why I have trouble explaining pain to the doctor is when they ask about the pain scale I always think “Well, if someone threw me down a flight of stairs right now or punched me a few times, it would definitely hurt a lot more” so I end up saying a low number. I was reading an article that said that “10” is the most commonly reported number and that is baffling to me. When I woke up from surgery with an 8" incision in my body and I could hardly even speak, I was in the most horrific pain of my life but I said “6” because I thought “Well, if you hit me in the stomach, it would be worse.”
I searched and searched for the post this graphic was from, and the OP deactivated, but I kept the graphic, because my BFF does the same thing, uses her imagination to come up with the worst pain she can imagine and pegs her “10″ there, and so is like, well, I’m conscious, so this must be a 5, and then the doctors don’t take her seriously. (And she then does things like driving herself to the hospital while in the process of giving birth. Probably should have called an ambulance for that one!)
So I found this and sent it to her. Because this is what they want to know: how badly is this pain affecting you? Not on a scale of “nothing” to “how I’d imagine it’d feel if bears were eating my still-living guts while I was on fire”.
I hate reposting stuff, but I’ll never find that post again and OP is deactivated, so, here’s a repost. I can delete this later, i just wanted to get it to you and I can’t embed images in a chat or an ask.
This is possibly why it took several weeks to diagnose my fractured spine.
Pain Scale transcription:
10 - I am in bed and I can’t move due to my pain. I need someone to take me to the emergency room because of my pain.
9 - My pain is all that I can think about. I can barely move or talk because of my pain.
8 - My pain is so severe that it is difficult to think of anything else. Talking and listening are difficult.
7 - I am in pain all the time. It keeps me from doing most activities.
6 - I think about my pain all of the time. I give up many activities because of my pain.
5 - I think about my pain most of the time. I cannot do some of the activities I need to do each day because of the pain.
4 - I am constantly aware of my pain but can continue most activities.
3 - My pain bothers me but I can ignore it most of the time.
2 - I have a low level of pain. I am aware of my pain only when I pay attention to it.
1 - My pain is hardly noticeable.
0 - I have no pain.
It’s also really important to get this kind of scale to people who have chronic pain, because chronic pain drastically lowers your perception of how “bad” any kind of pain actually is, and yet something like this pain scale is extremely user friendly.
For example, if someone asked me how much pain I’m in at any given time, I’d say hardly any, and yet I’m apparently at a chronic 2.5, and it only goes up from there depending on the day.
1 - Everything is a-okay! There is absolutely nothing wrong. You’re probably cuddling a fluffy kitten right now. Enjoy!
2 - You’re a bit frustrated or disappointed, but you’re easily distracted and cheered up with a little effort.
3 - Things are bothering you, but you’re coping. You might be overtired or hungry. The emotional equivalent of a headache.
MODERATE
4 - Today is a bad day (or a few bad days). You still have the skills to get through it, but be gentle with yourself. Use self-care strategies.
5 - Your mental health is starting to impact on your everyday life. Easy things are becoming difficult. You should talk to your doctor.
6 - You can’t do things the way you usually do them due to your mental health. Impulsive and compulsive thoughts may be hard to cope with.
SEVERE
7 - You’re avoiding things that make you more distressed, but that will make it worse. You should definitely seek help. This is serious.
8 - You can’t hide your struggles any more. You may have issues sleeping, eating, having fun, socialising, and work/study. Your mental health is affecting almost all parts of your life.
9 - You’re at a critical point. You aren’t functioning any more. You need urgent help. You may be a risk to yourself or others if left untreated.
10 - The worst mental and emotional distress possible. You can no longer care for yourself. You can’t imagine things getting any worse. Contact a crisis line immediately.
These are so important! SO SO IMPORTANT SHARE THIS AND SAVE IT TO SHOW YOUR DOCTORS!
This is the first time I’ve seen the fatigue scale, and HOLY MOLY that’s a revelation!!! These should be on all hospital and doctor office walls.
I’ve never seen the mental health one! or the fatigue one! I printed out the pain one and gave it to my GP.
people who don’t follow chess I promise this post is really funny
Karpov had cemented his position as the world’s best player and world champion by the time Garry Kasparov arrived on the scene. In their first match, the World Chess Championship 1984 in Moscow, the first player to win six games would win the match. Karpov built a 4–0 lead after nine games. The next 17 games were drawn, setting a record for world title matches, and it took Karpov until game 27 to gain his fifth win. In game 31, Karpov had a winning position but failed to take advantage and settled for a draw. He lost the next game, after which 14 more draws ensued. Karpov held a solidly winning position in Game 41, but again blundered and had to settle for a draw. After Kasparov won games 47 and 48, FIDE President Florencio Campomanes unilaterally terminated the match, citing the players’ health. Karpov is said to have lost 10 kg over the course of the match. The match had lasted an unprecedented five months, with five wins for Karpov, three for Kasparov, and 40 draws.
omfg im laughing so hard i fell asleep on my keyboard last night and i just found this
PAGE 1 OF 184
One entire row of ‘f’s takes 10 seconds to type. There are 45 lines per page, so you take 450 seconds per page. You claim to have typed 184 pages, which would take a total of 82800 seconds, or exactly 23 hours. You are a liar
You forgot that she was holding down the key. This accelerates the rate at which the f’s appear; once the ‘f’s appear at a rapid rate, it’s about 3.4 seconds per line. Also, 45 lines per page is generous - I counted and given that the page is Times New Roman, 12pt font, it’s about 41 lines.
This means that it’s 139.4 seconds per page, times 184 is 25649.6 seconds, and that rounds out to about 7.1 hours, or 7 hours 7 minutes.
Feel free to share any other quirks you’re capable of, that I didn’t list, in the tags! (Like if you have any double joints, or extra teeth, or whatever)
Don’t forget to reblog so more people can vote! :]
You work with people from other dimensions for a living. While you can travel to other dimensions, it’s much easier to just connect your computer to computers from other dimensions. You end up finding out about a lot of strange places, alternate earths where things are diffrent in ways you could never imagine. Most people don’t even know other dimensions exist, but to you it all feels so normal, so very distant but so very normal.
Because the company that you work on interdimensional technology for needs to outsource some of its dimensional work you end up very quickly having to contact people from other dimensions with a similar skillset to you for one project. And since it’s easy to contact them you end up talking to them afterwards.
There’s this one girl you end up messaging a lot. She seems so nice and sweet. You talk a lot about programing, and mathematics and magic (which are all very closely connected fields), she’s one of the only people who seems to really understand the beauty in it the way you do. She’s obviously from a very diffrent culture, and you never sent eachother images, but you like eachother a lot.
You end up messaging this girl more and more. She’s the first to comfort you when one of your freinds turned on you, she was the first to support you when you came out to your parents, even though she didn’t fully know what coming out was. She messages you “I love you” in the mornings sometimes. And even though she’s far away, further way than anything in the universe, you understand her so well. You’ve seen her art, drawings she’s done of buildings and structures around where she lives, they’re like nothing you’ve ever seen before.
You start to talk about being in a romantic relationship. It’s hard but you decide it’s what you should do, almost what you have to do. You want to be her girlfriend, you want to know how it feels to hug her, for her to rest her head on your breasts on a warm summer night, to be inside eachother, to touch in a way you don’t get to touch. But you can still message eachother, it’s just one small contact but it means so much. You want to move in with her, it might never happen but there’s something inside of you that wants to wake up next to her every morning.
Eventually you decide to build a portal to eachother, so you can see eachother, and if all goes well, you’ll actually move in. You both need to talk to a lot of people, and get help from a lot of programmers and spellcasters from several dimensions, but it’s done. The money that was supposed to let you move into a bigger apartment ends up going to a doorway sized portal, stored one of the few buildings in the city that can store such things. You need to get a ticket to go, even though the portal is yourse it needs people to operate it. But you can go. And if all goes well, you’ll live together.
When you get to her dimension the first thing you feel is fear. It’s dark, you think your underground, only a few bioluminescent organisms light the way. The city you’re in is wet, and cold yet humid, everything is made of either moist steel, or dark wood that’s covered in some strange layer of material that feels like wet cardboard. The creatures here aren’t human at all, they’re all strange bug like and fish like beings.
You eventually go to your girlfriend’s apartment. Afraid of what you’ll see. It’s completely dark inside, and decorated like no human would ever decorate anything. When you see your girlfriend for the first time the horror breaks the love you want to feel. Her body looks humanoid, though she’s so thin you can see her ribs, and pale in a way only corpses are useally pale. Her face was almost pretty, but her eyes were one solid pinkish color, and her moulth was just a tiny hole, like a jawless fish, it couldn’t move at all. And massive fleshy tentacles came from her back, four of them, with razor teeth at their ends, for chewing her food outside her body so that her tiny slit of a mouth can lap it up. You both just stand there, you realize that this is the girl you love, you realize you look as horrifying to her as she does to you. You begin to weep, and she doesn’t understand what your eyes are doing.
You spend the night in her apartment. There’s no way you’re moving in together. You’re not sure what this means. You don’t want to look at her at first, but eventually you do. You realize if you have to go back to your world you do want to spend time with her. Your languages work so differently that you still need to use computers to talk to eachother, but you can talk to eachother. And you tell her that you’re sorry, that you still want to be together.
You let her hug you, and comfort you, her body is so strange, but it becomes less scary when you fully realize that it’s her your looking at, that that’s who you’ve messaged all those nights. Despite her eyes and mouth her face is pretty, and though her body is much thinner then you expected she still moves gracefully. You let her touch you, every way she wanted to touch you, let her tentacles wrap around your body. She shows you her computer setup, and her favorite video games, and she even gets to introduce you to some of her freinds, and her little isopod like pet who really likes being pet by you. You can’t help but feel uncomfortable in her dimension, but you feel safe with her, and despite everything you enjoy being held and touched by her. At the end of your stay you make love for the first time, you don’t have the same genitals as her species, but you make it work. You fall asleep in her arms, and she would do the same to you, but her kind does not sleep.
When you go back home, because you do have to go back home, you don’t tell many people, even people who know about dimensions, what happened where you went. But you still message her a lot, and when you can you visit her, and very rarely she’ll visit you. Your mother would never approve, and no priest would marry you, but you can’t help but fall into the feeling of her body next to yourse.
I don’t disagree that restaurants as an institution have numerous problems, but sometimes I’ll see a restaurant-critical post cross my dash whose author clearly just looked up the history of the word “restaurant” and immediately started banging on about how the food service industry in its entirety is a bourgeois invention that sprang from the aftermath of the French Revolution, and prior to that time people only ever ate food prepared in the home, evidently completely unaware of the copious evidence that the public fried-food stand is literally as old as writing.
