#<- not technically but it's related enough to put in that tag i think.

[papika]

new kiichi dropped and it's REALLY good.

[permafrown]

YIKES i am so scared to start selfshipping. I want to kiss spy tf2 so bad How do i Begin how do i stop thinking im cringe as fuck. Ik cringe culture is dead but hes so pretty i canno

BUDDY it's just something you just kinda. Go For. I started self-shipping when I was 16 (so 4 years ago) after like. Shyly asking one of my mutuals in an anonymous ask if they had even considered making one LOL. And they did so I ended up following suit like the day after. There's comfort in knowing other people- especially if you're somewhat close to em- do it too.

Start silly if that's your style. Like you could just be like

And that's valid enough.

Literally there's no wrong way to to about it, as long as it's fun for you at the end of the day. 👍 AND ONTOP OF EVERYTHING DUDE SPY TF2 IS SUCH AN AWESOME PICK. No matter what I'm nodding my head and supporting you 1,000%

[imreadyforascesion]

I learned Skipper (the Mattel character) had a friend she was sold alongside of in 1972 with the tagline “Skipper’s Tomboy Friend Tiff!” and I was like ‘oh they were DEFINITELY lesbians’. Tiff was discontinued shortly after her release, but I think she looked really cute, her face mold was so charming compared to Skipper’s soulless blue eyes.

I didn’t picture it here, but Tiff also came with a skateboard, so I like to think that these two met when Tiff was skating and bumped into Skipper meet-cute style.

[megwritesriddles]

Redhanded ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 5 - Spanking. Reader is caught in the restricted section after curfew by none other than Head Boy Tom Riddle, notorious for his harsh punishments. But he has something else in mind, just for her.

Tags: Spanking, Impact play, Fingering, Dubious consent, Abuse of power, Head boy Riddle, Punishment, Under-negotiated kink, Degradation, Praise kink, Spit kink, Dom!Riddle, Sub!Reader, Teasing, Kinda fluffy right at the end.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 2.8k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: I went with my original idea for the plot of this one, meaning I'm still not sure what the plot for blackmail (day 15, also tom) will be!! I've had a few suggestions but I'm still open to more, send 'em in if you have them!! I personally found this one very hot, fingers crossed you agree!! Hope you like it mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The night felt darker than usual, the moon and stars covered by a thick blanket of clouds. An early October chill ran throughout the castle, nothing unbearable, just enough to make you shiver periodically. Your fingers traced the spines of various old tomes, your lips pursed as you searched intently. In an attempt to counter the oppressive darkness, you squint to try and read the titles. Call it academic curiosity, that had led you into the restricted section in the middle of the night, but there might have been a little more than that behind it. You rounded the end of a row of bookshelves, continuing your search on the other side. You couldn’t seem to find what you were looking for, but it had to be here, it seemed incredibly unlikely that it would have been taken out by another student. Passes to the restricted section were handed out incredibly scarcely, and permission to borrow a book, to take it elsewhere in the castle where a younger student might come across it, was even more rare. You were lucky, the enchanted rope guarding the section didn’t have a concept of time, which they really should have realised by now. Using the pass that Slughorn had given you for your extra credit project you were able to get in semi-legitimately. Sure, you weren’t supposed to be here after curfew, but at least you did technically have permission to be here, just some other time. 

Several other books pique your interest as you search, but you still can’t find exactly the book you came for. You sigh quietly in frustration, watching the puff of air that comes from your mouth displace some dust on the shelf in front of you, rattling a nearby cobweb. Drumming your fingers against the dusty shelf and staring out of the filthy window, you try to think if you’ve missed anything. You’ve searched every related section up and down, even checking the small fiction section for the author’s name, just in case it was somehow incorrectly categorised, then you had tried the history section, wondering if the book was so old that it had been put there. No such luck, of course. What bothered you the most was the lack of any noticeable gaps anywhere in the shelves, suggesting that it shouldn’t be missing either. Had they removed it from the library? Why would they have? You’d come across several books that were more controversial or more out of date during your search. Why would they–?

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the sudden voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Your blood runs cold, your whole body tenses painfully and you let out a little squeak. You whip around to find the owner of the voice, glaring. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you hiss, too high on adrenaline to assess if this was a good move. The owner of the voice, Tom Riddle, smirks ever so slightly at that before his face turns neutral again.

“My apologies, but you are breaking the rules quite callously, Miss,” he answers smoothly. He stands tall, hands clasped neatly behind his back, looking nothing short of unamused. In the dim lighting, he almost looks black and white, his Head Boy badge glinting on his chest. You frown at him.

“I’m allowed to be here,” you answer stupidly, because, no, you’re not actually and he knows it too. He raises a brow.

“You are, are you?” the corners of his lips twitch up. “And who, pray tell, gave you this permission?” he taunts, taking a measured step toward you. With a sigh, you present the permission slip from Slughorn to him. His hand comes from behind his back to take it from you, his fingers long and elegant. He inspects the pass. “There’s no stipulation here about nighttime visits,” he hums.

“Perhaps I misread,” you laugh anxiously. He gives you a look, telling you he isn’t buying this.

“We both know you’re too intelligent for that,” he drawls. You can’t help the slight smile that flashes over your face at the acknowledgement of your intelligence. He smiles too, but his smile feels predatory. The two of you don’t know each other well, never sharing classes or friendship circles. You’re peripherally aware of one another, having been in the same year group for the last seven years. Of course, these days, you’re more aware of him through his position as Head Boy. His patrols, his occasional speeches at dinners and his overall use as an example by many professors made it impossible to only be vaguely aware of him anymore. It flattered you slightly to realise he knew anything about you at all since he likely would have had to seek this information out on purpose. He hands you the slip back. “I’ll have to come to Slughorn about getting that slip taken from you, but as it is, I don’t have the authority to take it from you without his permission,” he talks slowly, you can tell he seems annoyed that he can not strip you of these privileges. “In the meantime, I can dish out punishment for being out after curfew, unless you have another permission slip you’d like to produce,”

“No,” you sigh and he smiles, nodding.

“Good girl,” he purrs. You glare at him for his condescending language, but neither of you misses the blush that blossoms on your cheeks. He just smiles. “Now, punishments…” he taps his chin mockingly. “Any suggestions?” you roll your eyes. Riddle was known among the student body for being fairly harsh in his punishments for those he didn’t wish to keep friendly with, usually only for networking reasons. You’d never been caught misbehaving by him before, you didn’t tend to misbehave much at all, just your luck that the one time you do, it’s him who catches you. You doubted strongly that he considered you a friend, and you didn’t have much to offer in the way of connections. You just purse your lips in annoyance, waiting for him to reveal how many hours you’d be doing in detention. He looks you up and down for a moment. “Do you like the idea of detention?” he asks, his voice low.

“No, obviously not,” you scoff. He inches closer. 

“What if I came up with an alternative punishment? A special one just for you…” He whispers, towering above you, you feel his breath fanning over your forehead. You wish you didn’t have to give him the satisfaction of tipping your head back to meet his eyes. You scrutinise him for a moment, taking in his subtle smirk. 

“Like what?”

“So many questions,” he tuts. “Yes or no? You can have your ten hours of detention if you really like,” he grins. Ten hours? That was just ridiculous, but you knew he wasn’t bluffing. He would find a way to write you up for that many hours if he really wanted to. You knew it was a trap, even as you walked right in.

“Yes, fine, alternative punishment,” you sigh in defeat. He takes ahold of one of your wrists, making you jolt slightly. He’s dragging you out of the library before your brain can catch up. He strides confidently through the halls, not a care in the world about being caught leading you around for whatever nefarious purposes he had. You discern after a little while that you’re being led to the Head’s dormitories. “Where are we going?” you try, but he ignores you, pulling you up to the portrait. He whispers something to it, too quiet for you to hear, and the portrait swings open. You don’t have much time to register your unfamiliar surroundings before he’s yanking you through the small common room down a hall and then into what you can only imagine is his bedroom. It’s quite large, especially for only one person. It’s about the size of the dorm that you have to share between five, with it’s own attached bathroom. You take a moment to take the room in when he lets go of your wrist, sitting himself on the edge of his bed and loosening his tie. There should have been loud alarm bells ringing in your mind, your feet should have been carrying you out of there, but your eyes are glued in awe on the crest carved into the wood of his door instead.

“Over my knee,” he commands lowly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“What?!” you gawk at him in shock. He grins.

“Over my knee, darling,” he repeats smoothly, eyes dark. You shake your head, your mouth opening and shutting in bewilderment. “Don’t make me drag you over here, this will be humiliating enough for you,”

“What- what about the Head Girl?” you squeak lamely, glancing back at the door. You feel a little tingle in your abdomen as his dark eyes remained fixed on you, promising to carry out this punishment.

“Hospital wing,” he answers simply, rubbing his thigh. You gawp again and he rolls his eyes. “Not my doing, honestly darling, what do you think I am?” he scoffs, although there's a discomforting glint in his eye. “Now, come here,” he growls. You don’t understand why you comply, walking over to him and hesitating before lowering yourself down over his thighs. You flush deeply at the realisation of what’s happening. He pushes your hair to the side, tilting your head so you’re looking up at him. “Aren’t you a good girl?” he coos, mockingly touching your overheated cheek. Your eyes are wide and worried, his thumb rubs your cheek just under your eye. “It’ll be over before you know it, darling,” His hand moves, wrapping around the back of your thigh, his thumb brushing the underside of your rear. You gasp. He chuckles, letting your head fall back down, your forehead hitting the mattress. He flips up your skirt and you squirm, blushing brightly. His fingertip traces the edge of your plain cotton underwear, light pink. “Cute, very like you,” he hums. You grumble shyly. His hand smooths over the swell of your ass, making you shiver. His other arm wraps around your shoulders to secure you. “Let’s do fifteen, shall we?” he doesn’t wait for an answer.

His hand collides with your rear with a loud smack, jolting you forward slightly. You whimper at the pain but find oddly that there’s a sensation blooming in the pit of your stomach, a pleasant incessant feeling as he delivers a couple more smacks. He pauses for a moment, rubbing his hand gently over you, feeling the warmth that blooms where he’s hit, gripping greedily at your flesh. You find yourself moaning softly. Thwack, thwack, thwack. He delivers a few more. With each one, the feeling is more pleasant, your skin tingling under his ministrations. He takes a moment, gently rubbing up and down your back, almost like he’s soothing you. He feels you rising and falling with your sharp breaths under his hand. He administers a few more spanks again, a little harder now, but you don’t mind much. You’re mortified at how much you’re liking this. This should be painful and humiliating, and it is, yet you’re loving it. His hand rests on your backside lightly for a moment and find yourself keening and pushing yourself back into his hand. He laughs in disbelief.

“Oh darling, you’re liking this aren’t you?” he taunts, smacking you once more. He shifts slightly and then chuckles deeper, noticing a dark wet patch on your underwear. “You’re really liking this,” his hand settles between your cheeks, rubbing at your clothed heat. You whimper and arch your back. “You’re soaking darling,” he coos. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re a whimpering mess,” he moves his hand up to pull down your underwear, it peels slowly away from your core, the cool air hitting your wetness and making you shiver. He uses both hands to grip you, spreading you gently open for his eyes. You whine and grip the sheets. “Naughty girl…” he purrs, watching as you twitch. “So needy,” he spits onto your cunt, making you shiver as the cool spit trickles down you. “I always had a feeling you’d like this, but darling, I could have never guessed what dirty girl you are,” you moan at his words, hating how true they are. His fingertip comes to gently tease against your folds. You push back against him desperately. He withdraws his hand and gives you another firm smack as a punishment. “Needy little whore can’t even wait a second, can she?” he chastises, gripping the flesh of your ass harshly. You sob in desperation, you’ve never felt so needy in your life. You’re willing to beg. You’ve never felt like this before.

“Please, please, need your fingers,” you pant like you’re in heat. For a moment, nothing happens, and you let out another sob. But then, like mercy from God, his middle finger laves through your folds once more. It simply strokes up and down for a little while, focusing fleetingly on your sensitive nub before tracing around your entrance, making you whimper desperately. After he’s satisfied that you’re about to tear up with desperation, he slowly eases his finger in. You mewl, arching your back, your entire face flushed. He drags the tip of his finger against your inner walls, mapping you out, getting to know all your favourite spots. His finger pumps slowly in and out, making soft squelches. He breathes raggedly above moving his free hand to press against your burning cheek, cupping your chin gently. You look up at him, your eyes glazed over with need and he looks pleased. 

“You’re beautiful, naughty girl,” he exhales, carefully pressing his ring finger into you as well, starting to pump a bit faster, watching as your lips part with soft wanton noises. “You’ve taken your punishment so well,” he soothes, the heel of his palm smacking against you as he fucks you on his fingers. You whine in response, eyes locked on his. The sight of him looking at you so lustfully drives you crazy, bringing your orgasm closer by the second. He rubs his thumb against your lips as you jolt back and forth with the force of his thrusts. He presses the pad of it against your bottom lip and you take the cue, drawing him into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, sucking on his thumb, moaning desperately around it. “Perfect obedient little slut,” he growls, his fingers moving faster inside you. Slick noises fill the room along with your muffled moans. Your eyes roll back. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Give in to me,”

“Tom!” you gasp around his thumb, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm, white-hot heat exploding in your belly. You pulse around his fingers and he grins, working you through it slowly. Your eyes slip shut and you lean heavily against his hand that cups your cheek, struggling for breath. He withdraws his fingers slowly, making you whine softly. He turns you over slightly, pressing his slick fingers into your mouth. You flush, accepting them onto your tongue and tasting yourself, looking up at him with big vulnerable eyes. He withdraws his fingers, pressing them into his own mouth, sucking them clean with a pop, smirking down at you. The shame is washing over you as you lie there, realising what you’ve done, how you’ve acted. You feel mortified, but Riddle is manoeuvring you to sit on his lap, bringing his lips to yours. Your rear stings as you settle onto his lap, but he kisses you affectionately, exchanging the taste of you between your mouths. 

“You’ll stay here tonight, you’re bound to get caught if you head out at this hour,” he mumbles between kisses. You pull back, tilting your head questioningly. “You don’t want another punishment, do you, naughty girl?” he teases, his hands settling onto your waist. “Other people’s punishments may not be as fun as mine,” you blush and scoff a small laugh, looking down at the ground. He brushes his knuckle against your still-flushed cheek. “Well… Did my punishment work? Are you going to be breaking the rules again?” he teases, pulling you down to lie on the bed with him. You’re surprised by this softer side of him, you’d caught a few glimpses of it as he’d been pleasuring you, but you’ve never seen him like this before. It’s like he likes you, and he never likes anyone.

“Only if I know it’ll be you catching me,” you whisper shyly, unsure how he’ll react. He just chuckles, pulling you into his embrace.

“Oh, I will make sure no one else ever catches you again, darling,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

Suggestions here! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

[menhera-info-archieve]

Why Menhera is about Mental Health, not Mental Illness

I think a lot of people get confused about what the difference between these two things is, especially since it's common to use these phrases interchangeably. Technically speaking though, these terms have different meanings:

mental health: a state of mental well-being that enables people to cope with the stresses of life, realize their abilities, learn well and work well, and contribute to their community

mental illness: [medical] conditions that affect a person’s thinking, feeling, mood, or behavior

It's important to note that mental health doesn't exclusively pertain to people with mental illnesses. According to Christopher M. Palmer, “The term ‘mental health’ implies the absence of illness or disorder. But there are a lot of ways people can be mentally healthy or ill, just like there are many ways to be physically healthy or unwell.”

Focusing on menhera, part of the reason the movement is about mental health is because of Japan's culture and the fact that diagnosis isn't as common/emphasized there. This is something that has already been better explained than others, so rather than trying to reword them I'll give a few articles that help explain this

mental health ≠ mental illness

The origin and birth of Menhera

Menhera as Art and Subculture

What I think I can break down is how much different the movement would look if it was only about mental illness vs how open it is when we talk about mental health!

If the movement is only about mental illness, then we are claiming this is a space only for people with a diagnosis/ labeled mental illness. This can lead to arguments about the validity of self diagnosis and whether or not you need official diagnosis to take part in the community, something that can be observed in other mental illness related communities/tags. Even if we try to be open and say all those people are allowed, people will likely feel anxious and think things like "am i mentally ill enough to call myself menhera?" It also means that as people recover, they may feel forced to move on from the community as they stop meeting the criteria for their diagnoses (if they do).

But because the menhera movement is about mental health we don't have to worry about formal diagnosis at all. Menhera is a community for anyone who has struggled mentally in any way ever. Of course people with mental illness are still welcome and will make up a significant part of the community, but because it's open to all, people can focus on their recovery without feeling like they'll be pushed out of the community because they "don't qualify" anymore. It also allows people with a variety of different situations to join, such as (but not limited to):

lgbtq+ people, people of color, physically disabled people, and other minorities who don't have mental illness but experience pain and mental health struggles due to discrimination.

people with chronic illness/physical conditions, who may struggle with mental health due to physical pain, discrimination, and other struggles that aren’t mental illness.

people who have trouble with symptoms, but don't meet full criteria for any official diagnoses (ex: people who struggle to focus but don't have ADHD, people who benefit from DBT skills that don't have BPD, etc.)

people who probably have a mental illness, but can't afford to go to therapy, aren't ready for therapy, don't have access, etc.

people who are considered "weird" or "sick" by society (think like how kink is a theme in menhera because kink/sexual desire are stigmatized)

young people who are struggling because growing up is hard/they have heightened emotions/etc.

people dealing with normal stressors (work, school, etc.) but need an outlet or place to vent

and plenty more i'm not thinking of, I'm sure

Hopefully this puts some perspective on the difference between mental health/illness and why menhera focuses on mental health!

[joshuaalbert]

original post was from feb 24 for those without dates on and like. clearly i had not learned yet that i was thinking too hard about this show, but i kinda wanted to revisit this because i feel like this was the last point where the show still could have been. decent? i don’t think the writing is strong enough on a technical level for me personally to ever find it good, and i would've never loved the general premise, but it would have lacked a lot of the frankly concerning undertones about biological family being the only thing that counts and the only way to be truly fulfilled in life.

maybe picard as a character does have kind of old fashioned ideals to start with about what constitutes family and how a person can have a legacy. given that there are some other things he's old fashioned about, and that this idea is kind of introduced towards the end of tng s7 and in generations, i can see it being a throughline. however, the show largely chose to validate his views, rather than challenge them. yes, there's still sort of the implication carried over from the tng finale that the tng crew is picard's family, but the emphasis on biological children throughout the season has the effect of framing it more as "you can Also have a chosen family in addition to a biological one, but you need a biological family to be fulfilled" rather than "chosen family can be equally important." besides being an ultimately regressive message, i think the story itself would be better if this idea was challenged more.

making it so jack was not picard's biological son would have removed jack from the center of the universe, a position he was only in because of his genetics. he’s not that strong a character as he exists now, mostly relying on archetypes and stock tropes, and he consumes a lot of the runtime. yes, there probably would have to be something fundamentally up with him to warrant beverly keeping him away from everyone for 20 years, but there are other options that wouldn’t require him being quite as central as he has to be for the borg plot. because his entire role in the story ideally wouldn't just be to exist and have special genes, he could be helpful on his own merits as beverly’s son and a medical expert and a criminal, rather than those elements just being cool backstory that never impacts his actions. use him to start the conversation about family and legacy, but don’t have him be the entire conversation the way he is now.

and maybe picard ultimately does still have to save him as part of the climax, but it's a choice he makes because he has come to genuinely care about and connect with jack despite not being his biological father. it depends on them actually forming a bond based on who they are as people, rather than solely depending on the fact that they share dna. to make their interactions resonate, they would have had to make jack an actual character, and given him and picard motivations to want to get to know each other at all other than blood.

being in conflict with picard also would have given beverly something to do other than be sad when bad things happen to the men in her life and fire weapons (because obviously that's what makes a good character 🙄) ideally we don't go for the whole borg plotline at all and there's an aspect of the alternate plot that she can do more in, but i like the idea of them having to relearn how to work together after 20 years and experiences that have made them very different people, especially now that they each feel a little betrayed by the other. i didn't feel like they really had a relearning curve (or ultimately a particularly interesting dynamic at all after like...episode 2), so this would have added some conflict and character development to those really slow middle episodes.

this also would have opened the door to bring back characters from earlier plotlines, because picard has had father/son dynamics with people before, despite them trying to downplay all of them. bring wesley back as an acknowledgement of how important that dynamic was, maybe in a way picard is only realizing in retrospect now that he is being forced to confront his ideas of family (this also allows for more examination of the crusher family dynamic with jack in the mix, which could have been so much more interesting than it was). bring back at least some subset of the s1/2 characters that were so thoroughly abandoned people had to find out they were alive from the showrunner's twitter. bringing in jack doesn't have to overwrite those bonds, but could be a catalyst for picard realizing how important they truly were. he already had a family and a legacy that had nothing to do with having a biological child, and we could end with him realizing he's happy with that.

obviously there are picard s3 fixes that would require an entirely different premise, and could be a lot better, but i think even with their setup there was a potentially interesting story to be told here. it just...largely wasn't the one they went for.

ok I said I wasn’t gonna speculate but I’m speculating.

it’s possible jack ii is actually picard’s son and that’s where the mystery ends but tbh I think the fact that beverly never actually said anything is going to come into play. I could see it coming out that he’s not actually picard’s son and him being like “why did you tell me he was?” and her going “I never told you he was, you assumed and I wasn’t going to correct that assumption when it was the only way to be sure you were going to save his life,” which then sets them up for a couple different avenues of conflict (he feels lied to and like he doesn’t know her/can’t entirely trust her anymore, she’s potentially upset that he would’ve. let her son die if they weren’t blood related. so they could bring in that whole idea of like what counts as family which is stupid we should’ve been done with this like 35 years ago but it would be an improvement).

and like i do feel like that’s in character for this version of her I could very much see her not wanting to outright lie to him, but using his assumptions to save her younger son’s life, especially when she already sort of lost the first one? I could absolutely see that.

maybe they really were just going for like wow even after all this time they can communicate without words in which case I’ll put on my clown shoes or whatever but I in combination with the whole “it’s been 20 years you don’t know her as well as you think you do” thing…I do kinda think she’s playing him (for completely understandable reasons because it’s a dick move to be like well I was gonna let your son die but now I won’t because I think he shares some of my genetic material)

[barbthebuilder]

This is my parting message

I gave myself time to think and talked to some people about this and I have decided to say goodbye to y'all.

Time here has been great and I loved pretty much every second of it. However, I want to focus on my real life now. Tumblr became too big of a part of my life for my comfort. Basically, I think it will be better if I quit.

I don't regret this blog. It made me very comfortable in my identity, it educated me, it made me feel loved and brave and powerful.

But it's over.

I can't thank you enough for everything you have done for me. For every like, comment, reblog, ask, tag, message and boop.

So... this is it. This is the end. This has been such a wonderful journey :')

Special thanks to:

@our-genderfluid-experience - great place to tell your story

@genderfluid-culture-iss - Bro letting people just spill the most relatable shit ever. Loving it.

@our-queer-experience - so much good info! Educated me a lot.

@hefkerut - I just want you to know you're an incredible person and I will always remember you. Like, seriously girl. I had such a blast with ya. You also always reblog the best shit?? You rock.

@genderoftoday - always provided me with content to reblog. Also, funny.

@genderfluid-info-blog - actually, such a smart person. Gives great advice and provides us with so many microlables. Mad respect.

@mxl4vrie - THANK YOU FOR THE FANART I SOMETIMES LOOK AT IT AND SMILE :DDD

@rat0

@popcorn-plots

@aegosexual-moments - you made me realize I'm aegosexual! Thanks a lot!

@alwaysprey

@sundry-whovengerslocked

@fruityracoons - dude, you were such a great support. Thanks for always checking up on me.

@frogofalltime

@foxinasuit - you actually made me realize I want to quit lmao I'm not leaving your side tho hehehe >:)

@joker1315 - always a pleasant conversation with this one! I still remember how you helped me with all that technical stuff :)

@kodiescove - learned a lot from you

@korane06

@littlemisspipebomb

@zuuriell

@crowdsourcedgender - you are doing such a good job. Keep it up! Thank you for always being a great help.

@candy8448

@baking-potato-27

@bhawk-goose - ur so funny hehehe

@banethebloodgoat

@night-rhea

@treion-is-back - I still remember you. Good luck.

@allknowingbirb

@i-am-an-arson-enthusiast

@spacewives-in-spacetime

@queen-mihai

@a-random-mooshroom - YOOOOO you were so fun to interact with!! All the best!!

@bibirb - thanks for supporting my Yellow Dog account and being one of the first followers!

@pronouncounter - count those pronouns

@pronoun-checks - keep it up!

@ghostsofchernobyl

@that-bisexual

@slender-genderfluid - okay, I have no relation to you but I think you're cool

@hijkay

@artistic-scribbles

@frogofalltime

@thegeniusidiotnstickmerchant3728 - you are so cool and so nerdy and SO WERID I am obssesed with you and I need to study you in the laboratory or put you in a maze with traps idk I will miss you sm

And many more! I'm sure I haven't tagged everyone and I'm sorry if I missed somebody :c I appreciate you regardless!!

Goodbye! May the gender euphoria be upon ya!

[existslikepristin]

Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Dreamcatcher, Handong, female reader (or potentially a force-feminized male reader your mileage may vary), just a little quick-read ficlet about how Handong is a pervert, is that a foot fetish?, you should probably worship Handong’s body, she got them wander-y eyes and hands, woah woah woah you don't think this is inappropriate do you?, are you a dirty little reader?, oh you're a dirty little reader alright, Handong can tell

Just A Little Vanity

Handong strikes quite the figure. Most anyone would, sitting as she is on an armchair ornate enough to be mistaken for a throne. Your particular point of view is that of extreme artistic foreshortening. Mere millimeters away from your eyes, her bare foot takes up most of your field of view, obscuring even her crossed, mile-long legs. Her face, appropriately for such protracted limbs, seems distant and yet no less beautiful. Beyond those gorgeous, exposed legs, her fashion sense is as ostentatious as the tower-like structure of her body. Shaggy faux fur on denim, bedazzled camo, and pearls. Hair so platinum it might as well be chrome, reflecting blacks, blues, whites, and silvers. One slender finger adorned with two unreasonably large rings taps gently against her cheek.

“What to do… what to do…” she muses, “with such a naughty little girl like you.”

“Make me please you?”

She sighs heavily and presses her big toe against your lips. “Shush, you. It was not a question. Did you hear a question mark?” she demonstrates her meaning with her tone well enough for you to recognize the rhetorical nature of the question. The rest of your suggestions will have to wait.

“You…” Handong says, stroking your jawline with the same foot, “do not get to wave that delicious butt of yours in front of me all day and then just get what you want. There are consequences for teasing me.”

Although you're not going to say anything about it, you can’t help but think that perhaps Handong was planning this all along. After all, she made you wear a tiny skirt today, insisting it would be fine without safety shorts, and then she found any and every reason to be behind and slightly below you. It was certainly less than subtle. You'd been feeling her eyes burn a hole in your helplessly visible underwear all day. At least it kept your ass warm in the chilly spring air.

Yes, it was all a trap. Not a particularly clever one, and also not one you mind being caught in. Though it'd be nice if she let you kneel somewhere other than the hard floor.

Handong continues to caress you with her foot, lifting your chin, turning your head to either side. She inspects your face from each angle.

“Done talking back?” she threatens.

“Yes,” you talk back. Cheeky, but technically compliant.

She smirks with you, appreciating the irony. “Good. I would hate to have to send you home without a snack.”

Oh how utterly, coquettishly subtle.

“Please, no, Handong. I'm so hungry.”

She lifts her foot, and your jaw with it, snapping your mouth shut. “Shut up already. I am looking at you.”

It's unclear how those things are related, but you keep yourself from saying anything.

With a flourish, Handong uncrosses her legs, spreading them wide so you can briefly see up her skirt. “Surprise,” no underwear. But you can't look long. Her upper body spans that vast distance in an instant, putting her face nearer to yours, going from practically a pinprick to vision-encompassing, menacing you from above. Those slender, metal and jewel laden fingers grasp just below your chin, holding your head still. You only feel four fingers, giving you the impression that she's sticking her pinky out as if you're a fancy glass of wine. You can't wait for the dinner party.

Handong clicks her tongue, half-lidded eyes traveling up and down. They linger on the down stroke, reminding you of the other piece of clothing she'd demanded of you. Your chest is barely covered, the neckline of the shirt so low that it really shouldn't be called a “neck"line anymore, but perhaps a “nipple"line. As she pulls you forward, you're sure she can see far, far more than the shirt's designer ever intended. Handong's light dusting of a blush and perverted twitch of a lip key you in further.

“Mmm,” she hums, “I could just take a bit out of you.”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from correcting her verbal spelling error. She tends to make more mistakes when her mind is meandering down your clothes.

She urges you up with a slight pull. Anybody normal would close their eyes for the impending kiss, but Handong’s eyes stay open and predatory until the last possible moment.

When you’re close enough, she strikes. Your lower lip is caught between her teeth and she nibbles softly before she kisses you proper. Her breath hisses between the gaps at the corners of your lips, greedy more for you than the air. She pries your mouth open with hers, invading you unreasonably quickly. She’s got a different metric for what constitutes reasonability though. You’re her toy. She'll play with you according to her rules.

“Handong!” Soomin shouts from across the room, “I’ve called your name three times! Come get your damn coffee! And we’ve got rooms for that!”

Without any additional warning, Handong drops you to the floor, stands up, and glides gracefully past you toward the counter. Watching her go past, you see no small number of other coffee shop-goers staring in your direction.

“Thanks, babe,” Handong flirts shamelessly as she picks up your drinks, “Oh, and I would like to use one of the rooms.”

[penaconys-hound]

Obligatory RP Blog intro post

(Warning: Contains Spoilers for the end of 2.1 and 2.2 and was initially created before 2.2)

———

Making a drink is a sensory skill. In dreams, creating fizzy concoctions requires adding a bit of your mood. Heavier if you're troubled, a touch sweeter if you're in high spirits... It's not just about mixing beverages. It's about mixing the experiences of life.

Gallagher's the name, I'm one of the local "Hounds" around here. Step into Penacony, the Land of Dreams, Nameless one.

Tired? Just find a place to sit and rest for a while. Let’s have a talk and I’ll mix something up for you.

But a few words of advice…

Don’t get lost in dreams, and not everything’s as it seems.

Guidelines, Key, Tags and Notes from the mod:

Guidelines:

-Fellow RP Blogs are allowed, uh hiii Star Rail RP community

-This is my first RP Blog after like a year or so (previous ones just died) so I may be rusty so apologies for that -Using tonetags would be appreciated, not required but appreciated, especially if you say something that could come off as rude but you don’t mean it in that tone, the mod can’t read tone through text.

-SFW only please, Suggestive themes are allowed with a warning however

-Gore’s on the table though, but only if the meme gets involved, or you somehow get a good reason for it, I don’t think Gallagher would just maul you out of nowhere- However since this takes place in the dreamscape blood will be described as water and that’s all that’s gonna spill out-

-Shipping is allowed, I’ll allow any ship unless it’s pr*ship or with Sunday, with the former it’s obvious on why I wouldn’t, gross. You’ll get hit on the offense side of Gallagher’s Ultimate if you try that.

But on Galladay it’s simply cause I’m just not super comfortable with Gallagher x Sunday-

But yeah, as long as you’re follow the shipping rules the sky’s the limit, especially since I see Gallagher as bi

-Mod uses the CDT Timezone and is in education, but otherwise doesn’t have a life, and also has adhd with rapid changing hyperfixations so answer times can range from a minute to over a week

-Anything related to, but not limited to, racism, homophobia/transphobia, sexism, ableism, etc. Is not allowed here.

I’m serious if you come into the askbox with that you’ll get the “Dog” after you:

-Anons are welcome, you can even have a custom tag if you use a sign off and show up enough

-Magic Anons are allowed however only one can be active at a time and they have a 2-5 ask cooldown depending on what the effects where

-You can technically also ask the Meme on this blog, but don’t expect it to say anything other then *STABS YOU STABS YOU STABS YOU STABS YO

Key:

“ “ (Just plain text): Dialogue

“ “ (Same as above but in bold)/“ “ (Purple bold text): (what’s used is dependent on what’s exactly being said) Dialogue where Gallagher puts on his Reaper Robe

(The text for that was originally red however I changed it to purple for two reasons: Reason one being in the lore Acheron uses Red text sometimes and I think it’d be weird if I interacted with an Acheron and she also used red text,

and I changed it to purple specifically cause it matches Sleepie)

“* *” (Asterisks around text): Action/Movement

“// //“ (Two slashes around text): OOC/Mod talking

Tags:

#🥃bartenders rambles : In character posts/asks

#🐺barred fangs : In character posts/asks when Gallagher is playing the role of “The Reaper/Death”

#🌀don’t fear the reaper. : Fanart reblog tag

#👁️ The Dog. : Mentions/Discussion of the Memory Zone Meme “Something Unto Death”/“Sleepie”

#🐾mods yapping : Posts from the mod/OOC posts, not counting OOC moments in the tags of ask posts

#💫care for a drink under the stars? : Interaction reblogs/RPs, whatever with fellow Honkai: Star Rail RP blogs, can be in or out of character

#🪶hounds prey : Interactions with Sunday and/or Robin/Mentions of Sunday and/or Robin

#🧹the bellboy : (there was no mop emoji) Interactions with Misha/Mentions of Misha

(Tags may be added for specific characters and art RBs if I decide to do that, but for now that’s the tags)

Anon Tags:

#🍸 anon

#🥂 anon

#🍀 anon

Side Notes:

-If you’re wondering on the Mod’s pronouns if you didn’t read the bio, the Mod uses Any/All pronouns (like he/she/they/it etc. Idrc-)

-This will include headcanons, if it wasn’t obvious from the “I see Gally as Bi” comment

-It could possibly get OOC at times while I’m in character, I made the blog before 2.2, but I’m trying to stick to the character as well as I can, and if 2.2 changes his character again I’ll attempt to pull something to fit with that

-Mod will refer to himself ether as “The Mod” or “Mod Werewolf”

Other Blogs the Mod Runs if you’d like to check those out:

(disclaimer they’re not all gonna be for the same fandom in the future)

@the-coolest-character-in-hsr (Hanu from Honkai: Star Rail)

@trash-president-real (Trash President (OC) Honkai: Star Rail)

Anyways hope you enjoy the blog, and avoid getting stabbed by the meme

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Saw some straight-up inexperienced takes on children’s right to consent in the youth liberation tags.

“Children and adults are on the same level and kids can consent! I’m a minor and I can consent! Don’t infantilize me!”

I’m an educator who’s worked with both kids and adults, and I have a near-photographic memory which allows me to remember my early childhood years at a depth most people can’t. I know what I’m talking about, AND I still relate to kids because I remember in exquisite, painful detail what it was like to be one.

It’s not that kids CAN��T consent. Obviously kids can consent or refuse to consent to a lot of things, like saying “yes I want ice cream” or “no I don’t want a hug” or “yes I want the soles of my feet scratched for an hour straight and don’t you dare stop” (I was a weird kid). Any verbal child, with the exception of children who use echolalia to communicate, can give accurate verbal consent (“accurate” in this case meaning that when they say “yes,” it means “yes,” and that they don’t just say “yes” to everything). It stands to reason that they can technically say yes or no to life-altering things such as medical procedures, religions, jobs, or sexual activity… so the issue is not whether or not they are able to consent; the issue is whether or not they have enough lived experience, emotional development, and knowledge to make an informed decision to be responsibly allowed to consent to certain things which are high-risk.

Pedophilia is wrong — not because I think children are always innocent or “dumb blobs” — but because of the inherent developmental power imbalance between a child and an adult. Children are experiencing everything for the first time; adults have already experienced these things many times over and have the responsibility of teaching children what they know without putting them in danger. One does not allow a person who only has a driver’s license to pilot a rocket ship. Why? Because they will crash and kill themselves. Allowing a minor to have sex with an adult is like letting me fly a NASA shuttlecraft with no training.

But if I theoretically were to get trained by NASA for many years, I could perhaps avoid the whole passing out from the G-force routine, and successfully pilot that shuttlecraft. In the same way, children must learn to make small decisions over the course of their lives, until their brain has reached an ample stage of development to safely make decisions about situations which could potentially get them seriously hurt, traumatized, or killed. Abstract thinking, the last stage, takes a long time to fully develop: from the ages of 8 to 25, and even longer in some cases. Obviously bumping the age of consent to age 25 would be excessive because by the time someone is 25, they would have enough lived experience to make an informed decision, whether or not their prefrontal cortex is completely developed or not. This is why in the US, the age of consent ranges from 16–18 years of age; it is close enough to full brain development to keep people safe, and not too far along to maximize freedom of the individual. Laws aren’t perfect and some laws are stupid; but having an age of consent is more than reasonable.

Even though the abstract thinking stage ranges from eight to twenty-five, an eight-year-old and a twenty-five-year-old are NOT on the same level, even if the eight-hear-old is more experienced in one or two areas. Remember, someone who is eight has just begun to develop abstract thinking (or they may not have even started yet); someone who is twenty-five has already been developing abstract thinking for years. Should someone who just started learning chess who cannot beat a computer on easy mode be allowed by a league to compete against someone who’s played in that league for years in a national tournament? No, because that would be demoralizing for the inexperienced player, and unentertaining for the person in the league (unless they’re a bully). There is an inherent power imbalance.

Children need help to navigate complex emotions and situations because everything is new to them, and their brain is not sufficiently developed to handle emotions in a healthy way without guidance and support; this support decreases slightly every year a child is alive if parenting and teaching is consistent in their lives. Children who do not get good adult support often end up traumatized. Children rely on adults; not because of “ageism,” but because it is practical for their physical and emotional health.

This is also the reason why parents often make decisions for children and make them do things they do not want to do. Of course, many children would much rather play than go to the dentist because the dentist is scary and it hurts; but considering that not going to the dentist could result in tooth decay, even if a child does not want to go, a parent should still “force” their child to go to the dentist because the trauma of medical neglect should be avoided at all costs. So a parent should explain to their child that the dentist is there to help them be healthy and happy, to help ease a child’s fear. Most dental and medical procedures ensure that a child will have as much freedom as possible throughout their lives, by preventing them from contracting medical conditions which could potentially inhibit their freedom to do things now, or later in life. Now involuntary intersex surgery for the sake of making a child appear “normal” is another issue entirely, since this deals with a child’s identity. Unless the procedure is done to avoid a life-or-death situation or physical pain, it should not be done at all.

Another thing which absolutely should not be forced on a child is religion. If a child does not fully understand what a Jehovah’s Witness baptism entails, or if they do not know whether or not they will change their mind later due to a lack of experience and foresight, then they should not be presented with the “one-way ticket” option of baptism and effectual “marriage” to a god. This is because a child may not have the experience to recognize the Jehovah’s Witnesses as a predatory organization, especially if their parents have raised them in the cult. If they know that not serving Jehovah — according to their belief system — will get them killed in Armageddon, and that Armageddon could come at any time, including tomorrow, their decision to get baptized, which is a lifelong commitment, will be more motivated by fear than by a genuine desire to serve that god. A parent should not be allowed to punish their child in any way for refusing their religion, and religions should have age restrictions for those rituals which cannot be backed out of without penalty, once performed. This does not mean that children should not be allowed to explore different religions and choose for themselves; it only means that they should be allowed to do so with minimal risk to their mind or body, should they change their mind.

Jobs are something else which a parent should not be allowed to force or encourage a child to get, because play is essential for brain development and specifically for developing creativity. Work is often regarded as the opposite of play due to its exhausting and typically unpleasant nature, so working below a certain age will stunt a child’s growth and make it so they can do less in the long run. Now, if a child has a genuine passion they wish to pursue which most other children do not have, they should, within reason, be allowed to pursue it and potentially make money from it. However, the business side of things should be handled by the parents or another trustworthy adult, until the child is at a stage of development where they capable of handling finances, so that they may focus exclusively on their passion and furthering their education in other areas. However, the money the child earns from their work should not go to the parents; it should go to the child, potentially being placed in a savings account for their future.

In conclusion — I hate to use the “seatbelt or straight jacket analogy” abshsbshsjsjks — children are horribly disenfranchised, yes; but lowering the age of consent is not going to help them become less disenfranchised, compared to many other more feasible and less reckless rules which should be put in place by the law. Adults should be more restricted with what they can do with their children; legal restrictions should not necessarily be removed from what children can do, as many of these laws are reasonable from a scientific perspective.

What these self-proclaimed “xeno-satanists” are proposing can easily be classified as systemic child neglect (Also, side note: xeno-satanism is such a cool-sounding name and I was extremely disappointed to find out they wanted to abolish the age of consent, instead of, like, astral projecting to worship Satan on other planets. Ick. Also, it should be noted that many of these xeno-satanists are minors themselves, at the receiving end of pedophilic relationships and should not be harassed for being abused. Common sense. Don’t add gasoline to the already very hot fire.)

[avionvadion]

ever think about writting a list sibling twst fic ? The plot is that Yuu is originala from twst but do to unknown event gets spirited off to put world. Their True apperance is hidden do to a curse/seal put on them(eighter as a conciquence of dimensional travel or by the one who kidnnaped them) so they look like a plain human when they could be a Mer, beastman, fae,... Also they are related to someone in NRC. Maybe the seal/curse stays even after they arrive, how do they get rid of it,who knows? Does it weaken over time or do they have to find a way to dispell it ? Maybe there's something that temporery realises them, and if their *sibling* sees them and how the curse/seal takes (painfull) effect again it's gonna cause trauma

....I think I've actually seen someone talking about that in the Twisted Wonderland tags somewhere. XD

But nah, I don't have any plans for one like that. I have enough fics I need to work on as is. T_T

Besides, with the plot I have in mind, one could argue it technically is something similar, given Eleanora, as Ellis, was originally from Twisted Wonderland and definitely has a relation to someone because if Ellis kept reincarnating before his soul world hopped... that means there's a family he kept reincarnating into until he became Eleanora. Because he had blood ties to that family.

But it's less a "long lost sibling" and more a "long lost cousin with a very strong question mark" because Ellis is that person's late uncle who died way before they were born because no Ellis ever made it past sixteen, and Eleanora was born into a different family because... she was born in a different world. But the resemblance is there. It's just subtle.

So it's like, "Huh. You're identical to my dead uncle, so we MUST be related."

"I'm from another world... oh, shit, but I did keep reincarnating before that happened. So, I mean, I guess we could technically be related?"

"Yay! I have a cousin!"

[kiragecko]

what do you think about batcest?

Okay, I believe in Ship and Let Ship, and that fiction can be about whatever it wants to be about. So I'm not getting into a purity culture discussion here. Instead, I'll talk about my actual opinions, rather than a moral stance.

Mostly, I think that it is an uninterestingly large category, grouped together mostly for logistics reasons.

-

First, there's incest-kink. Which comes in two main flavours that I've seen: restitution, and violation.

Restitution incest-kink is when a person either didn't get strong family relational attachments growing up, or idolizes those types of attachments, and finds a way to create them with other loved ones later on, through either sex or roleplay.

Since familial connections were my ONLY stable relationships as a kid, this just ... feels weird to me. Why get that from people who, in my experience, are WORSE at it? I find it mildly off-putting in fic.

Violation incest-kink is when someone is attracted to the broken trust, vulnerability, and shame attached to being harmed by someone supposed to protect you.

I like dark fic, and benefit from reliving helplessness in a safe environment (like fic). I will read a fic like this, but usually for unrelated reasons. Incest isn't the draw, it just often shows up in the same stories as tropes that work better for me.

-

Then, there's the Batcest which isn't interested in incest at all. It's just labeled that way to warn people that characters, which the audience might consider family, are dating/having sex.

I think it's a good idea to label that! Some people might want to avoid it!

(I don't personally think that this counts as writing incest. This type of fic is usually impossible to differentiate from fic about characters who are unrelated. The previous type of fic that I described IS distinct. If something has no effect on the story, I don't think it's an important variable.)

I think people write Technical Batcest for multiple reasons. Some that I've seen are:

They're the characters the authour has seen interact. Which makes them the only available options to ship. I can enjoy this type of fic, though I REALLY like supporting characters, and comics minutiae, so I often find it a bit limiting.

The authour only knows how to interpret canon closeness through sex/romance. Similar to the first type of incest-kink, but without the awareness. I'm way too aroace for this boringness.

The authour has a specific dynamic or theme to explore, and it can most easily be explored through sex/romance. This ... is often extremely compelling. Fiction has tools that really life doesn't. Metaphors, symbols, and mirrored experiences can be amazing ways to explore complex topics. I APPROVE of shipping Bats together if it gets me some deep insights into them, myself, or the world!

-

For me, whether something is Batcest or not isn't really a helpful factor. I'm looking at other tags, the summary, and maybe the first few paragraphs, instead.

The only things I actively search out are a few JayTim tropes that I feel are most successfully explored through their particular history and context, and also work best with sex as ... almost a distancing effect? Like, the thing they're resonating with in me has NOTHING to do with sex, but is far too vulnerable to be addressed directly. Pretend sex happening to other people is enough distance that I can actually look into that part of myself.

(I would like if enough people knew about the 'Incest Kink' tag that I could assume that 'Pseudo-Incest' by itself probably WASN'T the first category. It would make both tags more useful. But I still think it's valuable to tag things even if they don't help me!)

-

Finally, here are my opinions about the actual ship dynamics.

I am not interested in Damian being shipped with anyone, related or not. Find it a turn off. He's little, I don't HAVE to tolerate ships yet!

There is a certain kind of romantic exploration I find compelling in rare Cass fics, but I have no interest in reading about her having sex, ever. (The only other Wayne I've seen this dynamic with is Tim, and those were written before the adoption.)

Tim is shut down enough that sex becomes a valid way to get into his head. Really uninterested in anything but his platonic sibling relationship with Dick. Dark fic with him and Bruce is possible, but can go wrong in a lot of ways. I like him and Jason with a variety of dynamics and interpretations - both canon compliant and completely fanon.

Dick and anyone other than Jason usually bothers me, and I avoid it. I relate to Dick as co-eldest-siblings. That is not what I am interested in with siblings. Even Dark fic with him and Bruce isn't fun. Prefer Dick & Jason over JayDick, but the ship can occasionally work.

I'm more interested in the family dynamics with ALL the characters. That's true with Jason, as well. But with him I have the least strongly-negative reactions to ships. The only Wayne ship I get a lot out of is JayTim, but I'd be willing to read most of them, if the story seemed interesting.

Bruce and his children is ... I'm not a FAN. But, again, when I want things dark, that tends to be one of the places writers gravitate to, so I'll follow them.

Alfred. I do NOT want Alfred/Bruce. No. Not for me. Theoretically, Alfred would be even more affective than Bruce for dark ships with the kids, but I haven't actually found anything that worked for me.

And I haven't seen enough fic with any other relationships that would fit this label to have opinions.

[whatevertheweather]

an ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thank you for the tags @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @youarenevertooold I've been in search of ways to procrastinate <3

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

I'll go with one that isn't being posted yet: Callous.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Touch starvation + poor communication = Baz's No Good Very Bad Night

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

PTSD, disassociation, and, uh, emotional hurt/comfort?

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

Bold of anyone to assume I'm good enough at coming up with titles that I have multiple to choose from. Oh! But actually I do for Bait and Switch, thanks to Dre brainstorming fishing idioms with me. There were 4 alternatives, but my favorite is All is Fish, because it makes no fucking sense.

5. ⚠️Which WIP your most likely to finish or update next?

It had better be Musical Chairs.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

In an uncommon turn of events, I only have one (active) WIP right now that's not already named as it will be posted, and that's "yeah sure let's just write some shit that's way later and not finish the other that's fine"

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

It’s just…there’s also some deer in the headlights energy to him, which, mixed with the general aura of barely tamed violence, is throwing Shepard off. Truly, it’s been a good long while since he’s done this kind of pinballing over what he’s seeing when he looks at someone.

He does know what he’s seeing when he looks back at Simon. It’s the sort of face that has him politely averting his eyes to examine the bland thread of Simon’s shirt instead. He thinks walking in on the two of them tangled up without a stitch of clothing wouldn’t feel half as intrusive as looking at that expression did.

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

I had to abandon about a page of the above misnamed WIP (now to be succinctly abbreviated as YSLJWSSTWLANFTOTF) because it no longer fits the tone of the rest of the fic at all, which is sad because it made me laugh. It's too long to put here in its entirety, but here's part of one line, which shall function as the dead darling's eulogy: "I know you have a dick, Baz, I’ve fucking well been thinking about it!”

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Okay there's one I don't want to say much about because, selfishly, I want to be the one to write it, but it's related to truth spells. (Technically I've started it because there's a document with 10 scattered lines of dialogue, but I haven't started it started it.)

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

I'm trying to focus on 3, but I might have to say 4 here.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

I have rewritten the same 4 pages of Musical Chairs about 5 times. It's absurd. I know what's going to happen, I have the ending written, I have almost everything that gets us there written, and yet this section is u n d o i n g me.

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

I'm gonna take that as me sending kudos to all these lovely people: @cutestkilla @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @artsyunderstudy @fatalfangirl @whogaveyoupermission @iamamythologicalcreature @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral

[otomes-and-tears]

AAAAA OKAYOKAYOKAY NEW FLUFFY IDEA FOR OL2!!

Qiu and Tama (separate),step 2 with a GN MC/Reader (Best Friend or crush status but yet to confess! Basically both parties are pining,being hopelessly in love HAHA) BUT THIS TIME IT'S SUMMER VACATION TIME!! Maybe they go on a trip on their own,try new summer-deserts etc! I didn't have a specific prompt or anything,I'm not sure which way you wanna write this idea in SO IT'S UP TO YOUU! I just thought cute,fluffy scenes would make both couples,respectively,A LOT LOT MORE CUTER!!

♦ A summer with Qiu and Tamarack ♦

► tags and warnings: GN reader

► words: 2103

► A/N: Broke my rules again by writing two one-shots.

SORRY! I LOVE QIU AND TAMARACK TOO MUCH

By the way— some of the dialogue is inspired by this prompt list!

► Masterlist

Tamarack

“Are you alright?” MC glances at Tamarack, worried. While their first instinct might’ve been to lightly tease her, it was overrun by concern when they saw just how miserable she seemed to be.

She considered the question for a moment before nodding her head “no”, her braided hair swishing from side to side at the motion, as MC tracks its movement with their eyes.

She knew better than to lie to them. It was obvious, for one, and they had known each other for long enough for Tamarack to accept that, sometimes, it was just better to give up and accept that MC is going to take care of her even if Tamarack insists that she’s fine.

Lying just meant that they’d be more worried.

MC quickly hand her a water bottle— the sole reason why they’d left the pool in the first place, and she readily accepts it, muttering a quiet “thank you” before opening the lid to take a sip. MC sits at the edge of the lounge chair she’s in, taking in the shade after a long day in the sun. Tamarack seems to brighten up a bit before having some water, but MC knows there’s no way it would help much with her current predicament— that being the fact that almost all surface of skin that wasn’t protected by her one-piece swimsuit was currently bright pink, and undoubtedly, hot to the touch.

Well, MC knew that Tamarack didn’t tan in the sun, she burned.

When they first met, and she wasn’t nearly and shy and quiet and afraid to bother as she is now, it wasn’t uncommon to see her with red shoulders, burned by the sun, when she inevitably forgot to put sunscreen on to play outside.

As she grew up, she was much more diligent about it. Both to save herself the trouble of dealing with the aftermath and to preserve her health.

In fact, MC was absolutely sure Tamarack had applied it a few hours ago, before they got in the pool.

MC was sure because they were the one who applied sunscreen to her back, and it took a lot of willpower on their part to absolutely not think about it and not make it a big deal because they were friends and it didn’t really mean anything, and they were deluding themselves into thinking that the pretty blush on her neck was related to them at all.

But then again… MC helped her apply it once, but didn’t see it being reapplied, since they were so busy playing in the pool— Oh.

“Wanna go inside?” MC suggests, so Tamarack doesn’t have to ask them and spend too long overthinking about having been bothersome, even though MC always makes sure to reassure her that it’s fine, and they’d much rather do something they’re both having fun with rather than something that only they’re enjoying. “You can shower first, and I can look for some Aloe gel we can use. I’m sure Mom has it in there somewhere.”

Mom always very practical, and had a way of always staying on top of situations like these, there was no doubt in MC’s mind that she saw this coming and prepared for the likely chance that it happened. 

Tamarack didn’t look convinced, looking over at MC with uncertainty. 

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to swim for longer?”

She asks, and MC doesn’t think twice before nodding no. 

“Nah, all that swimming made me a little tired.” They admit, with a smile. It was technically true, anyways. “I’m alright just chilling inside. Maybe we can play a board game or watch TV and eat ice cream!”

MC got up from the lounged chair there were perched at— their excitement over their new plans finally managing to convince Tamarack to give in. 

“I’m okay with anything as long as we can spend more time together.” Tamarack says, and MC’s heart flutters at her words “...And we’re away from the sun.”

MC offered one of their hands to her, which she gratefully accepted. It’s a gesture that they’ve repeated many times throughout the years, her soft hand grabbing theirs to lead them away to the woods, on their way home, through the corridors of their school or just holding for the sake of holding, because they were close and didn’t really need a reason to hold each other’s hand.

It didn’t need to mean much.

In fact, it shouldn’t mean anything at all, It was just like helping her with her sunscreen or spreading aloe on her back.

It’s a gesture that survived from their childhood years— a sign of their closeness and strong bond and friendship. Nothing more.

There was nothing romantic about it. 

Then why did such a simple, meaningless gesture mean so much to them?

Why did the heat of her palm make them dizzy? Why did their face flush? Why did they feel a sudden breathlessness they couldn’t explain away by the summer heat?

In truth, MC knew exactly why.

They had known it since the day Tamarack jumped out of a pile of leaves, giggling over having gotten the upperhand over the new kid, her hair glowing golden under the sunlight in a way that made her look so at home within the woods, MC could’ve sworn she was a fairy playing tricks on them.

Maybe they couldn’t name what they were feeling then, being too young to properly understand why the pretty girl that gave them affection so easily felt different from everyone else, but they were keenly aware of their feelings now, when they seemed to get more overwhelming by the day.

One day, they would gather enough courage to say something.

But that day wouldn’t be today, as they gently guide her inside, looking back to admire how her face seemed to redden even more at their touch and how soft her features looked when their eyes met.

extra

It’s an hour later when they’re sitting on the couch, Tamarack’s short legs streched over MC’s lap as they eat ice-cream, the newest Ariana Grande music video playing on the TV in one of the rare occasions MC managed to catch MTV playing music.

MC should be paying attention, they really should. Tamarack seems really engrossed in a story about the new piece she’s been practising on her cello, and how rude one of the violin girls was about her getting a note wrong when her violin was entirely out of tune the entire time, but the only thing MC can really focus on is how Tamarack smells like Aloe Vera gel and how when she’s snarking about annoying violin players, she rolls her eyes with a disdain Qiu could only dream about channelling, and it’s so cute it makes them fall in love with her all over again.

Qiu

“Ugh, I’m so hot.”

Mc whines, trying to walk a little faster to keep up with Qiu’s pace.

It was a terribly hot and humid day in the middle of the summer— one of those days where MC, usually, wouldn’t really bother trying to do anything more than melting on their couch.

Unfortunately for them, they had promised a week beforehand to join Qiu on the next outdoor movie session, which just happened to fall on the hottest day of summer.

Fun.

Well, realistically, they could’ve cancelled.

Qiu wouldn’t have minded it too much. They knew about MC’s aversion to heat, after all, and would’ve probably offered a good alternative or simply called another friend, who would be less annoying about being hot and sweaty.

But… It was Qiu they were talking about.

Qiu asked for their company, and even if they tried to sound really nonchalant about it, MC could tell that Qiu was excited and that this movie night meant a lot to them.

So MC would suck it up and do it for them. Even if they were hot, annoyed and could feel the sweat making their shirt cling to their body in a way they could only describe as uncomfortable.

“Love the confidence.”

Qiu says, without missing a beat, and MC doesn’t know it they should laugh or turn away and go home right now.

They end up deciding on rolling their eyes and hitting their arm playfully. Qiu laughs at their frustration, and it would be annoying if it the sound of their laugh wasn’t so endearing.

“Shut up.”

Mc says, but there’s no heat in it. They could never say it and mean it, and Qiu knows that.

Maybe that’s why they’re so smug all the time.

When they’re like this— walking together and teasing each other, Mc can almost pretend like they’re on a date.

That Qiu didn’t really mean to invite them to watch a movie as friends, but as something more. That the way they looked at MC wasn’t just out of fondness for a close friend, but as someone they loved in the way MC wanted to be loved.

But it’s not like they’d allow themselves to indulge too much in this fantasy. No. Qiu wouldn’t look at MC in the way they wanted Qiu, and it was too selfish to expect that of them.

Not when Qiu already didn’t rely on too many people. Their friendgroup was small and tight-knit and being included was a huge sign of their trust on MC.

Trust as a friend.

Best friend, maybe.

And MC was more than willing to pretend like it didn’t hurt them if it meant more days like this, where Qiu seemed so content and relaxed just by walking with MC in silence.

“We’re almost there.”

Qiu comments, breaking MC out of their reverie.

If they noticed MC staring at them, they’re merciful enough to not comment on it this time, which they’re immesefully grateful for. They don’t know if they have the mental capacity of dealing with more of Qiu’s teasing today without becoming a blushing mess.

MC can just see the entrance of the park when they feel the first raindrops. They freeze, and grab Qiu by the sleeve before they can take another step.

“Autumn… I think it’s going to rain.”

Their warning doesn’t come quick enough. Qiu looks at the MC as they feel the rain growing in intensity, and can just manage to start running before it starts pouring.

Of course. Summer showers always seemed to happen when it’s most inconvenient.

They’re soaking wet by the time they reach the park and manage to hide away in the closest structure with a roof— that being a bandstand, because of course the universe would present MC with a perfect romance-movie scenario when they’re already stupidly in love with their best friend who definitely doesn’t reciprocate their feelings.

“You think they’ll still show the movie?”

MC asks, a little hopeful and all too willing to break the silence and any treacherous trains of thought about how Qiu still managed to look pretty like this.

And how close they were, and how it would be just so easy to reach out and kiss them.

“I don’t think so.” Qiu answers, obviously annoyed by it. “The equipment must be wet— and the grass will be too. They might postpone it to another day.”

Mc agrees with their assessment, and they stand in silence for another moment, just watching the rain fall.

“I’m sorry we’ll miss your movie. I know you were excited to watch it.”

MC says, after a moment, and Qiu just shrugs, like it’s no big deal and disappointment isn’t etched on their face.

“It’s fine.” When Qiu and Mc’s eyes meet the disappointment seems to melt away in Qiu’s face, and they smile. It’s small, almost imperceptive, but MC knows it’s there and that they had another idea. “I think we’ll be here for a while… And we still have the food we brought.”

They hold up the picnic basket they were holding, and MC immediately understands what they’re hinting at.

“Ever the problem solver, huh?”

MC teases, and Qiu considers it a yes to their unasked question. Between both of them, they quickly set up their impromptu picnic, determined to still have a good time together, even if it wasn’t quite like they’d imagined it.

Extra

“You know, I’ve seen romance movies that start like this.” Qiu comments, smiling teasingly in a way that makes MC think that they know too much. They flush, looking away, not quite knowing how to respond to Qiu’s implication, and they’re too happy at their inaction. “You’re too cute.”

God, Qiu is going to kill them one of these days.

[bleachbleachbleach]

five comfort characters, five tags

Thank you for the tag, @fractoluminescence! I made a new post because this got long, but the original meme is at this link, and @fractoluminescence's cool responses are at this one, if you'd like to read everyone's (I recommend!).

I had a difficult time developing an answer because I got too in the weeds about what the definition of “comfort character” was, rip. It turns out there are a lot of definitions, ranging from characters you find cozy, to characters you find relatable, to characters you look up to, to more elaborate definitions that attempt to articulate those distinctions between a character you love and a character that you would sink to the bottom of the Marianas Trench with.

I’ll define “comfort character” as that thing that begins by delineating, say, a show you love so so much (Haikyuu!!—my soul for a volleyball) vs. a show you want to be fannish about (Bleach. BleachBleachBleach, even. BLEACHBLEACHBLEACH, even), and then refines further into characters you love (my eternal Soi Fon era) vs. the characters you’re in the Trench about. Because while I probably think an above average amount about Soi Fon, and love seeing her on my dash, and do want to write for her once I alight upon some idea that sufficiently connects my headcanons about her to 1) actual canon and 2) a Story, she is not who I:

think about every single ding dong day;

regularly revel in in daydreams;

both consciously and unconsciously filter my lived experiences or relationships through, such that they become doubled; they find translation, in an act of both processing (growing distance from, or increasing intimacy with) the experience and in tugging at the character themselves, growing them into something that proceeds from their canon or offers an opportunity to entertain new and additional dimensions.

I think the key elements here are:

the alwaysness of this—the readiness to be in the soup at all times;

how personal the engagements are, which I think is sometimes to do with the relatability of a character (proximity to oneself) and is sometimes personal to… the character? Like, the intimacy of wanting to both crystallize one’s understanding of a beloved character by stress-testing their concept, and to spin them out, break them from what is canonically known just to see how much depth they have beyond that and in how many ways they might be known.

…Which, now that I’ve written that, is... just my definition of “blorbo” and not “comfort character,” but maybe the terms are synonymous??? who knows—AS THOUGH BLORBO HAS A DEFINITION AND ISN’T WHOLLY MEME-DERIVED TO BEGIN WITH. AS THOUGH ANY OF THESE THINGS HAVE PRESCRIPTIVE DEFINITIONS.

Anyway, all of that is the appeal of writing fanfic, to me, so it technically extends to anyone I’ve had occasion to write. But that’s within the specific action of writing a story, or preparing to write a story, or thinking about writing a story.

If we’re talking “always” and unconsciously, readily, blorbo-ily, whether there’s a story or not, then #1-3 are and have been for the last four years:

Hitsugaya

Hinamori

Matsumoto

They are who I am most inclined to give things to, or translate things through, and am most interested in defining/destroying. <333

There are probably use-cases/concrete examples that should go here, in addition to the somewhat woowoo definition above, but part of me is shy, and another part is like, those are what the stories are, and another part is “those two parts are the same part...” and yet another is “those two parts are the exact opposite of each other..."

So instead I'll no-pressure tag @confluencechimera, @recurring-polynya, @afinepiece, @bendingwind, and @unohanadaydreams!

Below the cut because it's not Bleach-related enough: I promise I’m not trying to be evasive/coquettish on purpose, but I don’t think I can get myself to put my thoughts about my lifetime character for this on Tumblr, because according to me, organizationally, that’s not where they go. So I’ll skip him. I’m also one of those people where my idea of comfort is to lean into the negative and feel comforted by the experience of being joined in misery by others, rather than go the cozy route. In that usage my comfort “character” is Law and Order: SVU because it’s like 800 episodes of people having the worst day of their lives and/or people on absolutely depraved sprees, depending on which side of the story you focus on. But also that show is deeply unserious, pleasingly formulaic, and has infinite rewatchability. So let's say those are responses #4 and #5!!

[thetruearchmagos]

Dunking On Some Fools

In Which I Whine About Star Wars, And Talk About Multi-Role Platforms (Mostly The Latter)

Yes, the none-awaited sequel to this post a few days ago has arrived! If no one reads this, I don't think I'd mind, but I am tagging @coffeexafterxmidnight since you asked and @theprissythumbelina because I vaguely recall you reacting positively to something star wars related a while ago.

Anyhow, more below the cut;

Now, the way I see it, a lot of the pro-LAAT arguments come from the perspective that using 'multi-role' vehicles, or 'platforms' to be technical, is inherently better than splitting those roles across multiple platforms in unison. These two comments, for example;

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Now, I'm gonna start by saying that while I am a very big fan of most multi-role platforms (F-35 my beloved I never doubted you), I am of the opinion that the 'Low Altitude Assault Transport', or LAAT, is absolutely not a good example of one, and I'm here to explain why.

"Multi-Role' VS 'Multi-Form'

Basically, the way I see it is that it's a good idea to design one or a small number of platforms to be able to conduct a variety of missions as long as the ability to actually do that doesn't require making absolutely detrimental sacrifices in that platform's ability to fulfil its core functions.

Now, what does that look like?

This is a Nimitz-class nuclear powered aircraft carrier of the United States Navy, and in my opinion such platforms are an excellent example of what it means to be multi-mission right.

The base, structural form of aircraft carriers is basically a flat deck, a hangar beneath it, and all the engineering, navigational, and communications gear needed to make it go places and do things.

And what can an aircraft carrier do? Anything, depending on what you put on it.

Fight for and win air superiority? Launch fighters.

Bomb something? Send up some strike aircraft.

Hunt submarines? Sic anti-submarine helicopters on them.

And you don't even need to change the ship itself! There's not really a structural difference between a carrier that can 'do' air warfare VS one that can fight surface targets, and the same hold true in other domains. Modern missile cells on ships, or launch rails / bomb bays on aircraft, can store and fire many types of ordnance (if you've designed them to), allowing the platform with these systems to be easily re-tasked between various missions.

The exact opposite of this fortunate state of affairs can be seen when improving a platform's ability to do A actively weakens its ability to do B. This often happens when the structural components needed to carry out one task take up weight or volume while providing nothing to the platform's ability to do another.

Such as, say, having to have both a large transport compartment and all the lasers in the galaxy.

Where Does The LAAT Fit?

Now, to return to the vehicle that started all this.

I believe the LAAT is a flawed concept, and my proposition to replace it while retaining a similar level of 'orbit to surface assault' capability would be to divide the roles of 'fire support' and 'troop transport' between two separate platforms. Frankly, I'm more than a little sceptical of this whole doctrine to begin with, but I'm not gonna get into that.

The main problem here is weight. It shouldn't be controversial to say that in the air more than any other domain, weight is at an absolute premium, and speed is often your best protection. Just by stripping the basic hull of either the armament or the troop bay would give the resulting craft a good boost to speed or range, especially if you take the effort to make a more aerodynamic hull form. Alternatively, you could use the saved weight to cut back on thrusters / repulsors, or boost carrying capacity, armament (as if it isn't already armed enough), or shielding / armour.

A second point that I think is also relevant is that, by splitting these two conflicting missions and design requirements into different aircraft, you can now get away with adapting the new platforms into even more roles which their now non-contradictory frames might be better able to handle. The troop transport can also haul cargo or vehicles without wasting capacity on weapons, and on the flip side the gunship can carry out independent attack missions without subtracting from the transport fleet.

With these arguments made, though, I'd like to take some time to properly shoot the two YouTube commenters who started this right between the eyes. Their takes, I think, are dumb.

Take 1; 'Sequencing Bad, Actually'

Okay, well.

First of all, surely the idea of 'easily anticipated stages' applies equally to the approach best described as 'mass identical waves coming right at you'? Like, just using the LAAT is no less predictable the split idea? Military operations are always broken up into clearly defined stages for a reason, which brings me to my next point.

Let's say you send in the LAAT in your first, second, and third waves, as you'll need to because there's no way in hell you're getting a 'large' amount of troops down at once. The first wave will take the most fire since the defenders haven't been suppressed yet, and since the troop transports and gunships are the same, losing gunships while attempting to clear defences also condemns their passengers to dying with them.

Unless you mean to tell me you intend on dropping troops while the enemy's guns are pointing right at you. In which case, please watch Saving Private Ryan Opening Beach Scene on Holo-Tube.

On the other hand, breaking up the mission into discrete and sequential stages, and splitting attack and transport craft into separate roles, allows you to cut back on risk massively. Take the LAAT hull, leave the droops on ship, and replace all that weight with even more lasers (but preferably rockets or something), and now you have a craft for that 'first wave', which can hit defences with speed and firepower without risking a single ground trooper's life. Then, once and only once the Landing Zone is ready, you can send in the ground pounders to do their work.

Take 2; Muh Multi Role

Ah, screw me I guess.

Look, first of all, who the hell 'needs; to do so? Like, the video and commenter made a point of saying that there very much was no need to slap weapons on the blackhawk or Mi-8, so what exactly are you trying to say??

Also, the point about multi-role fighters is so stupid it spawned this whole post. In the modern day, where the divide between ground attack and air combat capabilities are summed up quite well by 'stick the bloody weapon on a launch rail and chuck it from beyond the horizon', the structural concessions you need to support both roles are much lower than having to accomodate, I don't know, a vacuum pressurised passenger compartment, and a absolute crap ton of lasers. So, yeah! You can't compare the two!

And with that... I don't feel like trawling through the video for more dumb takes. So, Arch out.