#ask me about my children

[linkedin-offficial]

me when i get the opportunity to think about speculative biology and non-existent game mechanics in media i like

⠀

[weirdglassthing]

LOA Shiptober Day 4: How They Met

October content month was ambitious..

This one took me. Shockingly long. Whoops! I’ll probably end up jumping around the prompt list and it might extend into November 😋

I’ll try to do day 31 on the actual date of Halloween though 🫡

[dipperscavern]

can I be cheeky and ask for riding jon’s face 🫣🫣🫣

yes… oh yes you absolutely can….. i fell asleep last night to the thought of jon snow canonically being a munch (funny enough) — we’re on the same wavelength anon ! (written w shy!reader in mind)

you’ve heard the talk, heard the different ladies from different statures talk about “the act”, and it’s always a different answer. some say it’s mediocre… others, that it’s their favorite way to feel good, and some, say it’s terrible. you’ve heard stories of men never caring about the woman’s pleasure, and how their only purpose was to give them children. the thought made you shudder.

you, yourself, have never had time. time to freely choose who you trust enough to share that sacred experience with (or even touch yourself). the men at castle black are sworn to celibacy, and even if they would abandon their oath for a night with you, you wouldn’t let them. most of the men at the wall are untrustworthy, and you want more than just a quick fuck. even if these thoughts plague you, you’re too busy with your duties to worry about it. a thing you’ve since long accepted.

until jon snow.

you had been there for jon since his arrival at castle black. never batting an eye at his surname, always trying to make his life a little bit easier. there was also the stolen glances, the soft touches you both passed off as “accidental”, the longing for each other. you both remained as merely “close friends”, until things boiled over and you found solace in each others lips. it didn’t go farther than that, the tentative kiss being soft & exploring, and that was okay with you. you didn’t expect more. until you got more.

sometimes, you hate jon for being so easy to talk to. your shy nature has slowly melted away in his presence, and you find yourself unable to be embarrassed about the questions you ask or answer. your late night talks are what keeps jon sane. he wants to know everything about you, and you both would talk till morning if you could (you have before). the topic often shifts, landing on anything and everything on the planet. even “the act”.

imagine jon’s surprise, when the most beautiful & endearing woman he’s ever met drops her gaze to the floor and bashfully tells him she’s never cum before.

jon short circuits. he asks if you want to. he asks if he can make you. and you say yes.

jon snow is a giver. tasting a woman is a pleasure in itself, and he’d tell you as much if you asked. his mind ran a million miles an hour, thinking about all the ways he could make you feel good. it doesn’t take long before the desire to taste you takes a hold of him, and so he does.

“You’re hovering.”

he’s not wrong. you are. you thought you had heard it all, but the act of sitting on someone’s face has clearly alluded your ears. you’re unsure. you don’t want to hurt him.. suffocating the first man you lay with would have you begging the gods to open the ground and swallow you whole. and it’s not just any man, it’s jon.

the soft glide of jon’s fingers across your thigh bring you out of your head. his hands are cold. they feel nice in contrast to your own skin, nerves lit on fire.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t.”

“Jon-”

“Do you trust me?”

he’s steadfast in his reassurance. his thumb has been rubbing circles in your hip while you both have been talking. does he do it all on purpose, or is he just this naturally desirable?

“You know I do, but-“

“Good. Sit.”

you still hesitate, and that’s when jon takes matters into his own hands. his hands stop their tracing, and instead grip your thighs, bringing you down himself.

whatever expectations you had are exceeded tenfold. jon eats you out like a man starved. your head spins with the way you can feel his tongue, exploring you and swiping over your clit. it has white hot pleasure shooting up your spine, and your thighs quiver ever so slightly, but jon’s firm grip keeps you in place. he’s confident in his movements, precise and sure in a way that makes you see stars.

jon thinks he’s found the place where he would be content to meet his demise. you taste so good, and the pretty sounds you’re making have blood rushing straight to his cock. jon has always loved the sound of his name on your lips — whether it be small acknowledgments in passing by, or just mentions in mere conversation. but he’s found he much prefers hearing you moan it.

you’re almost embarrassed how quickly he has warmth building up in your belly, pressure building as he gives you the most pleasure you’ve ever had. he’s giving and giving and giving, and you find yourself selfishly taking all of it. he doesn’t slow down, keeping a steady rhythm that makes the cord in your stomach wind impossibly tighter.

“Jon, I’m-!”

you don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by the snap of the cord in your stomach that was previously tightening. pleasure overtakes your nerves, flooding your veins and momentarily removing your ability to speak (or think). jon’s tongue doesn’t stop fully, only slowing down to help you ride out your peak.

you catch your breath, feeling jon kiss the inside of your thighs as small aftershocks have you clenching around nothing. you find yourself seeking his touch (as if he hasn’t been constantly on you), your hand running along the surface of your thigh to find his own. he reaches for you, trapping your own smaller hand beneath his own. it’s reassuring, grounding you back to the present after he brought you so far over the edge.

you move to get off, to let him get up & breathe — but he doesn’t release his grip, keeping you in place. you hear him speak.

“Only once?”

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

if you struggle with mental health, one piece of advice i would genuinely give you is learn to knit.

or crochet: something repetitive to do with your hands, assuming you're capable of it. if you're like me and learnt to knit as a kid but let it lie fallow for a long time, it may be that starting a large, simple project (for me it was a cloak, but a blanket could work too) gets you back into it. or maybe doing something smaller, idk. i personally found socks really hard for a while because they felt smaller than my cloak but weren't getting Done quick enough for me. as i've sped up i find it more interesting to knit socks.

regardless, a repetitive task is great for emotional regulation (also see: autistic stimming), and something that you can look at and go hey i've done something, unlike simply using a fidget toy, can also help to pick your mood up when the brain is being cruel.

it's also useful as a conversation starter or distracter if you don't know what to talk about. if you're wanting to talk to older people also you're more likely to reel them in with knitting (i work better with older people, and 99% of people who ask what i'm knitting are older than me). it also gives you the opportunity to not make eye contact because you're busy knitting, even if you're still carrying on a conversation. if you're absolutely stuck for conversation you can count your stitches and people might stop bothering you.

if you have trouble focusing without doing something with your hands, you can knit! i knit a lot in church, and it helps me to focus on what's being said.

i probably have more reasons you should pick up knitting, but i can't recall them right now, so yeah.

[sf3uuf]

I've been thinking about JJBA again...

[choccy-milky]

ok settle down anon cw: my face🗿

😍😍😍JUMPSCARE😍😍😍 this pic of me cracks me up so much because i look like that creature from aoi oni LMFAOO ok but heres a non crackhead pic of me i took today upon waking up at 5pm and before washing my face like the nocturnal disaster that i am

u can tell that i cut my own hair bc look at that stray piece hanging down and how uneven it is LMAOOO i aint payin someone like 70 bucks for a haircut THEYRE A SCAM!! I CAN DO IT MYSELF🤺🤺🤺

also since we're on the topic i posted these on twitter but if u dont have twitter and didnt see them I WANNA SHOW THEM OFF AGAIN BC THIS DRESS IS SO CUTE

its from miss patina if anyone is curious😩 i have so many of their dresses which i highly recommend and UGH....the feminine urge to draw clora in every single one of them is SO STRONG....im also a hermit and barely ever go outside so fully expect one day that im just gonna post ALL my dresses just so that i can show them off to someone LMAOO🥰🥰

[notbecauseofvictories]

so my aunt is turning 70 in a couple weeks, and I've planned a blowout birthday for her---rented a lake house, invited every member of our family and also some of her friends; I have delightfully kitschy decorations (including a glittery BIRTHDAY QUEEN sash and paste-jewel crown, thanks for asking); my freezer is full of cakes, frosting, and cookies, so all I have to do is defrost, assemble and serve. I have been working on this since February, and I plan parties like a quartermaster just before the army decamps---there are a lot of lists involved.

My most recent task is assembling a guest book, filled with both blank space (so people can write nice messages) as well as all the photos I could get from family members. There's something almost meditative about assembling these pictures---here is my aunt as a teen, standing awkwardly next to her grandmother; here is my aunt as a grown woman, admiring a niece or nephew's sloppy Christmas present; here she is on vacation, or with a friend, or at the interminable succession of Sunday dinners, birthdays, and graduation parties that are the fabric of our family life. Despite having no biological children, she's so involved, she's so present---and this is just what we could grab from phones, my personal photos, facebook!

(She maintains the family archive, so I can't ask her directly.)

I don't know if I have a firm conclusion here. Just that---well, may we all be blessed with more photographs of ourselves than will fill a scrapbook, and a niece who will spend 6 months thinking about how to gently bully you into celebrating your birthday.

[sky-poprocks]

Skykid Wings hc tonight :)

I like to think about how they have layers and mimic capes is through light forming to match it and the actual winged light being like veins of energy that weave through them to allow flight.

[lesbianfakir]

Something that is an example of good character writing in Princess Tutu is how Fakir and Duck have little incompatibilities in their personalities (you know. Beyond the obvious). It makes it a little harder for them to get along and understand one another but you get the sense that they’re both putting the effort in. It’s sweet and it makes the relationship feel all the more real.

Fakir is serious, blunt, and he doesn’t sugarcoat things. His words often come across as harsh, even when there’s real care behind them. As a result, Duck—who reads his tone but not always the intentions behind it—doesn’t always pick up on when he’s doing something nice for her. For example, when Duck starts to tell Mytho she’s Princess Tutu, Fakir startles her to interrupt her, causing her to turn back into a duck. She takes offense and only later realizes he did it so she wouldn’t reveal her identity to mytho before she was ready (and even then I don’t think she picks up on the full extent of it). There’s another scene where he tells her point blank if she doesn’t want to fight the raven she needs to stop being princess tutu. It comes across as quite harsh and seems to visibly sadden Duck, though he cares about her deeply and is only trying to keep her safe.

The other “incompatibility” that comes to mind is how Fakir is sensitive and easily offended while Duck tends to blurt out whatever’s on her mind. While there are many scenes where he does get upset (take the scene in the Wandering Knight where he takes her request to stop getting in fights as an attack on his character), there are just as many where he doesn’t take the bait. Watch the show a few times and you’ll notice Fakir has a habit of going silent when Duck says something insensitive. He waits for her to finish speaking and he either ignores her or moves on. In those moments, you can feel the conscious effort he’s making to not lash out. Duck’s earnest naïveté is part of why draws him to her but at the same time it causes friction between then when she’s overly hopeful about something delicate to him, like his writing.

Anyways tldr; Fakir tends to hide what he’s feeling and thinking behind a deadpan demeanor, which sometimes obscures his true intentions from Duck. Meanwhile Duck tends to trample over the things Fakir is sensitive about in conversation, and he often has to stop himself from getting upset. In these moments you see how these characters may not completely understand each other but they care about each other a lot and actively work to smooth out their differences. Also it’s very cute when Duck realizes after the fact Fakir did something nice for her and her face lights up.

These little quirks make room for natural misunderstandings between the characters. Honestly, I like how Princess Tutu doesn’t smooth out compatibility issues or completely rewrite Fakir’s character when he and Duck become friends. The same flaws and tendencies are present, we just see the characters taking more active, conscious steps towards getting along.

[socialbunny]

 Skip has always found a way to work through his problems and turn them around with relative ease, but the sudden death of his wife, Brandi, has brought his mostly carefreeness towards his children  to a stand-still. With two freshly traumatized children and a newborn under his belt, can Skip juggle turning his shitty ass life around for his family, or will he crumble under the weight of his past mistakes?

Darleen hasn’t been the same since her husband, Darren, died, though she’d be quick to argue with you if you said anything of the sort. She’s FINE! She misses her husband, undoubtedly, but she’s not going to let that very, very, very tiny thing wreck her whole life, and she’s not going to let people give her grief about ANYTHING. Sure, she got fired from her job a few months back and hasn’t made any strides to find a new one, and she’s losing touch with her son as she goes and squanders all her responsibilities by partying and drinking on par with younger years, aaaaaaaaaaaaand the almost obsessive idealistic crush she’s developed on her neighbor is clouding the second half of her judgment, but she’s bounced back from worse and knows everything’s going to come up Darleen :) …………. hopefully

[dipperscavern]

request: letting robb stark take me feral like the wolf he is

unfortunately this is giving me thoughts.

usually, he’s ever so gentle. passionate, attentive, unapologetic in his desire for you. but he’s stressed. constantly frustrated. angry, even. so, you offer for him to take it out on you. an outlet to release all of his pent up energy. he’s hesitant at first, unsure & unwilling to hurt you, but you trust him — and you tell him as much.

so here you are. your throat & chest littered with marks, some areas bitten. he didn’t even bother to prep you, bottoming out in one swift push that knocks the air from your lungs. his nails leave indents from where they tightly grip your hips. or, anywhere he can reach, really. his pace is relentless, harsh & setting your nerves on fire. you squirm, wanting reprieve as you lose track of the amount of times you’ve peaked.

he merely pulls you closer, back flush against his chest as he leans forward, positioning his head next to your ear so you can hear him.

“where you goin’? hm?” he doesn’t get a reply. he doesn’t expect one.

“thought you could take it? y’said you could.”

he sets a new pace, tantalizingly slow as he fully bottoms out & then pulls himself almost entirely away. and again. and again. his hands roam you, and you’re not sure this is the same robb you married. he’s rough — harsh. he’s mean.

…🫠

[scatterbrainedbot]

Hello :D

You're so cool

Anyway have you thought that in your rat sons au Splinter might outlive the boys?

You're very cool :D love your stuff dude

(tw for some blood, light gore, implied overdose (kinda??))

hi copper!!! this is a fantastic question!

so obviously typical irl rats have far shorter lifespans than the average irl tortoise. according to google (yes, be awed by my spectacularly in-depth wealth of research) the average pet rat lives between 2-4 years ish, and the oldest on record lived to be about 7. meanwhile, an African spurred tortoise (Splinter's species) averages more around a 50ish year lifespan in captivity, tho is suspected to possibly exceed 75 or more in the wild.

Now, the mutation does give us a lot of wiggle room for playing with these numbers. For the rat sons boys, id say their natural lifespan probably clocks in at about 45-55 years old? definitely not old by human standards, but not young young either. (though, its also important to note that the boys were exposed to the mutagen just days after being born.)

For Splinter, meanwhile, aging is slightly more complicated. He lived the vast majority of his life as a regular normal African spurred tortoise (well, non-mutated at least. there were perhaps some shenanigans of a more mystical variety going on before he was mutated, but thats a separate matter) He was about 70ish i think? when the boys were born and they were all exposed to the mutagen. so he is already distinctly an old man turtle papa. id guess he'd probably still have another eh lets say 25-30 years after his mutation. he could probably push it a little farther even with some mystic nonsense, but when push comes to shove id say his 'natural' post-mutation lifespan would put his death like a solid decade or two before his sons.

of course, the tricky part of the matter is that theres no way for Splinter to know any of this. theres no way for him to know how the mutation affected them all, or if it even affected them all in the same way. especially since the boys dont show many physical signs of mutation for the first few years, and just kinda look like normal rats, (albeit with a more human sort of intelligence) — what sort of health standard do you hold them to? what if they simply dont show external signs of sickness or old age anymore? how do you actually know if something is wrong?

for a while there Splinter is very worried that one of his babies will just essentially reach the end of their normal rat lifespan, fall and not get up again.

so mostly, he just tries to live in the moment, enjoying whatever time he does have with his little ones, taking each day as a gift <3

still,

that fear

never

really

goes

away.....

[hercarisntyours]

sentinel prime is really just an old man bullying what are essentially children huh

[arrestedexgirlfriendafterhigh]

These two as roommates kills me😭😭

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

AO3 is down and so is my Wi-Fi so I’m writing Nimona headcanons to cope

When Nimona is in a bad mood she usually wants attention and affection so she’ll shift into her cat form and sit on Bal and Ambrosius 

She knows they would never move her even when she’s in her human form but she feels like being a cat is just a bonus 

The first time she sat on Ambrosius' shoulders when she was in a bad mood he cried for like three hours 

When Bal has a bad day he goes nonverbal and collapses on the nearest comfy area 

He doesn’t care if it’s his bed the couch or a pillow on the floor he’s laying their face first and not moving until he feels better

It’s not uncommon for him to come home and just plop down on the couch even when Nimona and Ambrosius are sitting there

And they won't move him either they kind of just accept their fate and continue what they were doing to the best of their abilities 

When Ambrosius has a bad day he cleans 

Like obsessively 

He won’t stop until every surface in the house is spotless and there isn’t a single dust particle in sight 

The only room that he stays out of is Nimona’s (half out of respect for them half out of fear of what he would find in that room)

Most of the time when he feels like the house is up to code he’ll be too tired to move let alone think

And that’s when Bal and Nimona set up their super secret evil plan

Bal forces him to get comfy on the couch while Nimona plays his favorite movies and gives him his favorite snacks

It’s truly diabolical but it’s also what Amrbosius does for them when they’re in a bad mood so they feel no guilt  

Sometimes when he’s feeling especially shitty Nimona will shift into a dog and let him cuddle them like a big stuffed animal

So I was just reminded sometimes cats will sit on your injuries and purr because they think it makes you feel better (and as a cat owner I can confirm it does)

When I remembered this I was thinking that Nimona would subconsciously shift into a cat and lay on Bal’s arm or Ambrosius' shoulder when they’re in pain and just purr 

And they swear that it helps every single time (kind of like a mom kissing her kid's injuries)

Ambrosius will always use people's full names when he’s pissed at them

I don’t know when this idea popped into my head but I’m just imagining Bal and Nimona chilling outside until they hear “Ballister and Nimona Boldheart get your asses inside now!” from their house

And their neighbors watch as some of the most powerful people in the realm scramble to run inside 

Most people would assume that Nimona would either stay where they are out of spite or fly away  

But they’re so caught off guard because Ambrosius always calls Nimona “Nim”

Plus he’s made Ambrosius mad enough times to know that if he apologizes enough times and makes Bal give him the patented “Puppy Dog Eyes™” he’ll fold like a lawn chair 

Nimona calls Ambrosius “nemesis” for two reasons 

The first one is he thinks his name is stupidly long (and Ambrosius agrees) and the second reason is he thinks it sounds cooler (he agrees again)

Plus it’s also hilarious to imagine Nimona yelling “Nemesis” while running full speed at Ambrosius and then tackling him

Sometimes they knock him on his ass and sometimes he picks them up and puts them in air jail

[rayssion]

Solangelo fic idea because I love them,

Soulmate au wherein once you're claimed the mark of your soulmate appears as a tattoo on your body, it might be the same place as your soulmate, it might be different. If your soulmate is a mortal then only a letter 'M' appears.

Everyone is so worked up because Will never showed his mark, some of them speculated his soulmate is a mortal, some of them argued that it could be unrequited love like his soulmate might be Annabeth but she found her soulmate so he's destined to be alone. No one knows for sure, except for his sister Kayla.

The helm of darkness? Geez who could it be? The only child of Hades out there is Nico di Angelo. Will is 100% sure that the boy despise his guts, also he heard from Kayla that the boy already has a crush, and he's not sure if the concept applies on roman demigods, but didn't Hazel have a soulmate already?

Will never shows his mark, he felt devastated especially that the son of Hades is quite distanced.

Nico tries to operate between his pitiful crush on Percy, Jason who's urging him to let go and find himself another person, and his own mark.

The little sun tattooed on the side of his torso.

Funny thing, everyone thinks his soulmate is a mortal.