#conditioned taste aversion

[moondirti]

I have to ask about the sheep reader bc my god your brain is so wrinkly and now the images won't leave my head ahhhh love your writing so so much

hybrids. manipulation. brief smut. referenced neglect

it was that or cult leader price which i feel like has been done before so,,, idk man. something about sheep girl! reader being gifted to him by a hybrid averse neighbour, trussed up in the back of their pickup, soft belly up, eyes quivery and wet with tears. though he does not need an addition to his flock — certainly not one that would require extra care — he notices the abrasions sectioning your bare patches of skin (consequence of crowding in with the more animal individuals of your kind), and chubs up upon realising how easy it would be to soft-soap you into submission.

all it takes is a bit of kindness. he herds you into his home, bathing you in a galvanised steel tub with shampoo made for human women. his hands are large and rough, work-worn, but they weave into your wool gently as to not tug on the knots that have accumulated with neglect. you bleat in the novel attention, peering up at him shyly when he works the soap down your back, cupping between your legs to make sure he gets the dirt spoiling your privates.

freshly clean, you’re a pretty thing. round in the most mouth-watering places, teeth healthy upon inspection, plump lips perpetually cast in a pout. price goes so far as to tell you while he detangles your hair with an animal comb, petting your bare cheeks to feel the way they warm. loveliest lamb i’ve ever had the pleasure of caring for. set to be my favourite, at this rate. the most special.

that’s what the collar he buckles ‘round your neck seems to argue, too. fashioned himself out of full grain leather, dyed pink, antique buckle making a sturdy hook for the bell he will eventually procure.

you give in like he’d brought a meat tenderiser down on your flesh. pull apart like a well-cooked feast, unspooling all your ripe sentiments on his lap. as he sups on lamb chops — seated on his arm chair with you by his feet, making you suck his fingers clean — he tells you what to expect in your new home. the schedule, the other animals, your place within it all. you will not be given this treatment daily, yet it does not mean he loves you any less. most winter days, he’ll lay a bed of straw in the barn, assuring you that it’ll be away from the rams and their meddling horns, and come to check in on you when you can. that way, you’ll make friends who can keep you company while he’s busy.

and the way you nod, nose twitching under his heavy palm, hesitant but so trusting of the only kindness you’ve ever known — he can’t help but skip a few steps. promises you that if you get along with everyone well enough, if you’re good, he’ll reward you with a nice bath, trim, and private meal weekly. it’s the right thing to say, too, because your hips jut excitedly at the suggested luxury. just one taste of it and you’re so easily conditioned.

he can’t imagine how eager you’d be if he were to give you more. more; like fondling your doughy pussy as he is so tempted to do, kneading until you’re sloppy and soaked through your wool. like giving you a taste of climax, fingers foraging expertly within your walls, stretching your hole out to eventually supplant them with his cock. you’d move so well underneath him, fluffy and malleable, legs moved up and out of the way to press against your teats. if he knows anything, he knows sheep acquiesce to handling like butter to the knife. he could bend you, tie you, pick you up in whatever way he sees fit, and you’d take it. all he has to do in return is make you squirt messily onto the soft grass, and pump you full of his seed until you cannot clean yourself out without the help of his hand and a hose.

all in due time.

[auroravictorium]

bejeweled (k.b.)

Summary: reader gets ready for a heist and shares a few sweet moments with kaz.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker and reader Word Count: ~2.2k Warnings: a bit of violence (mentions of prior stabbing), allusions to kaz's touch aversion, mentions of a near-death experience Genre: total fluff

Author's Note: the response to lavender haze has been SO AMAZING, thank you all so much for your notes and kind words <3 you do NOT have to read lavender haze before reading this, but these two can be read as part of a larger series that i'm working on if you so choose! the link to my grishaverse masterlist can be found here. please drop any requests you have in my inbox! happy reading loves <3

You fiddled nervously with the skirts of your dress, bunching up the silky fabric in your palms and releasing it. Scrunch, squeeze, release. Over and over until Inej slapped your hand. "You'll wrinkle the fabric," she told you, then returned to figuring out the best way to hide a knife in your hair. If anyone could do it, it was Inej. You aspired to be as collected and creatively armed as she was.

"Sorry," you muttered. You examined your outfit in the cracked, dirty mirror in front of you. You wore a gown nicer than any clothing you'd ever owned, clearly seized from a store along the Geldstraat. The material was soft and dyed a rich color that went beautifully with your skin tone. It was also very susceptible to creases, judging by the look Inej kept giving your nervous hands.

A few harsh tugs on your scalp later, Inej stepped back to admire her handiwork. The blade was thin and capped with a black sheath, making it look like an innocuous stick holding your bun together. It wouldn't do much damage, but it would be semi-useful if you lost access to the five other knives and the pistol strapped to you.

Three months after the disastrous job where you'd almost died after a nasty dagger to the chest, Kaz had tried to assign Nina to this mission. You argued that he couldn't keep you out of heists forever. After one tense standoff in front of the Crows and two hushed arguments in his room and an empty Club parlor, he'd reluctantly agreed to designate you for the task. The conditions? Jesper should not leave your side, and Kaz would kill him if you got injured again while partnered with him on a mission. You found that unfair, considering it hadn't been Jesper's fault you got stabbed in the first place, but you could only get so far arguing with Kaz. He'd forgive the sharpshooter eventually.

"Well, it'll have to do," Inej sighed. She caught your gaze in the mirror and rested her hands on your shoulders. "You'll be alright?"

"Not you too," you said, though you appreciated the concern. You'd heard it enough from Kaz in the past three months, and it was getting tiring.

"We're just worried about you." She squeezed your shoulders. "Especially him."

Heat rushed to your face, and you looked down at your hands and wrists, adorned with beautiful jewelry too glittery for your taste. You and Kaz hadn't told anyone about how he'd been waiting for you to wake up after the heist had gone wrong or how he'd bared his feelings to you as best he could. In fact, you thought you had continued with business as usual between the two of you. Aside from more lingering looks and brief moments spent together in your rooms, soaking in each other's company a few feet apart, nothing had really changed. 

Her observation had only reminded you how nobody could hide anything from Inej.

Inej turned you around and squeezed your shoulders again. "I won't tell anyone," she told you. You lifted your head and looked her in the eyes. They were filled with sincerity, and she offered you a smile that matched the warmth in her eyes. "I think you're the only one he doesn't scowl at. It's refreshing to see a look on his face that doesn't indicate him plotting or mentally counting his kruge."

A laugh slipped past your lips before you could stop it. "Maybe I'll put in a good word for the rest of you. It would do him some good to stop scowling so much. I've heard that prevents wrinkles."

The day Kaz stopped frowning was the day hell froze over, and all of you knew it. Inej grinned and handed you the last piece of jewelry to complete your outfit: a glittering necklace that Kaz had swiped from an oblivious Dime Lion's pocket. "Can you get this on yourself? I need to help Nina in the Club."

"Yeah, of course." You smiled at her. "Thank you."

She ducked out of the room, and you turned back to the rusty old mirror. You almost didn't recognize your reflection. Never in your wildest dreams did you believe that you would get to wear a gown and jewelry like this and attend a party like tonight's. Though it was a facade designed to get an expensive set of Dekappel paintings for reselling (you assumed), you thought you looked... beautiful. Wildly overdressed for a potential combat situation if you got caught, yes, but beautiful. You polished up quite nicely.

You jumped when a pale reflection appeared in the mirror behind you and cursed. Whirling to face Kaz, you demanded, "Have you heard of knocking? Or making any noise?"

He smirked in amusement and nudged the door shut behind him with his cane. His eyes roamed you up and down, taking in the exquisite gown you wore and how it clung to your hips and fell gracefully to the floor like a silken waterfall. 

As his eyes scanned your form, your breathing stuttered. There was no reason for you to feel exposed as you did right then, but you did, and you started to fidget with the necklace in your hands. Your face heated up again, and you prayed that he would stop looking at you like... that. You were losing focus on the assignment ahead. Instead, you were thinking about his eyes and that stupid smirk on his face.

"You look...beautiful," Kaz finally said, hesitating before choking the word out. Saints damn him. Why couldn't he offer a simple compliment without feeling like he needed to throw up? As soon as the word was out, his nausea receded, and he felt like he could breathe again. 

You smiled, unaffected by his hesitation. You understood. "Thank you," you murmured, looking down at the hem of your gown. You turned and went back to fiddling with the necklace in front of the mirror.

With your back turned, Kaz took the opportunity to admire how the neckline fell around your shoulders, how the gown clung to the curve of your waist, and how the skirt spun around your legs as you turned from him. How absolutely perfect you were. All the little details that he had secretly let himself indulge in before you nearly died, he now admired openly. He embraced the way his heart pounded faster and leaped into his throat when you smiled. He made sure to savor every grin and laugh, and he would never take any of those things for granted again.

"I like the color," he added. He felt like he needed to make up for hesitating so clearly. He loathed himself for it. He saw you struggling with the necklace in the mirror and stepped forward. "Can I help?" His blood rushed in his ears as the words left his mouth, and it took every ounce of determination in his body to not yield to the terror starting to rise in him.

You looked up from the chain, catching his icy blue gaze in the mirror, seeing the genuine desire to help in them. "Okay," you said softly. You passed him the necklace, and he undid the chain with ease.

Slowly, he brought the necklace around your throat. He saw you swallow, the goosebumps spreading across the back of your neck. His gloved fingers brushed your skin as he clasped the necklace for you, and they lingered even after the jewelry had been fastened. His eyes fixated on the contrast of the metal against your skin, and he imagined how soft and warm you felt compared to it. For a moment, he let himself remain this close to you. He challenged the water rising around his chest, threatening to crush his lungs, and he brushed a few loose strands of hair away from your shoulder.

Before he could back away and bow to the tide trying to pull him under, he slipped off a glove and brushed that loose hair behind your ear. His fingers stayed there for a long moment. You sucked in a startled gasp but remained still, watching him close his eyes and try to battle the current. He could feel the warmth of your skin ghosting across his fingertips, and he clung to that feeling. 

Warm. Near. Alive. All the things Jordie wasn't.

Kaz pulled away as his brother's name crossed his mind and pulled his glove back on. He gripped his cane so tightly that his knuckles ached. "No mourners," he said roughly. He took a few steps back, and self-hatred burned within him as the pressure on his chest lessened the moment there was space between the two of you. What kind of man was he if he couldn't stand close to the woman he cared about?

"No funerals," you whispered back. You smiled at him. He caught your glance one more time, expecting pity or sadness. Instead, he found pride. You were proud of him, and that realization startled him so much that his cool mask slipped. The knot of anger within his sternum loosened, and a ghost of a smile crossed his face. Then, adjusting his grip on his cane, he turned and made his way out of the room deliberately louder than when he came in.

You couldn't help but giggle and cling to that feeling of bliss as you worked through the heist without a hitch. Aside from a band member pressing too close for comfort and asking if you had anyone waiting for you, to which you responded with faux timidity, "I don't remember," and cursed Jesper for taking so long, it went perfectly. 

"Your delivery, Boss," Jesper said proudly as the two of you swept into Kaz's office, pulling the canvases out of his jacket with a flourish and setting them on Kaz's desk. He bounced on his heels and waited for an acknowledgment. "Shall I take a bow for our excellent work?" he asked after a few moments of silence from Kaz, who finally looked up from some piece of parchment he was looking over.

"Well done," Kaz murmured, but his eyes flicked to you. He searched your face, then let his eyes run over your body. You realized he was checking for injuries and offered a reassuring smile. Nearly imperceptibly, his shoulders lost some of their tension. "Can you handle the door?" he asked Jesper.

Jesper sighed. "'Shouldn't you be at the door, Jesper? Can you handle the door, Jesper?'" Despite the mocking, he left without complaint and whistled as he strolled down the hall.

Kaz pretended he didn't hear the sarcasm and turned to you. "You're okay?" he prompted, analyzing your face more closely once the door closed.

"Perfectly unharmed," you confirmed. You started to remove your jewelry, intending to give it back. Maybe Kaz could pawn it and add the funds to the emergency reserve he pretended he didn't have. For someone so brilliant, that discolored brick in the wall wasn't the best hiding spot for thousands of kruge.

When you got to the necklace, you hesitated before removing it too. It reminded you of him, of the moment he trusted you enough to take off his glove and touch you. You didn't want to give it back.

"Keep it," Kaz said, seeing the hesitation written clearly across your features. "It suits you." He'd go to his grave before admitting to anyone other than you how much he enjoyed seeing it on you. He liked seeing you sparkle, and he also liked knowing that it made you happy. In the three months the two of you had been something, he realized that your happiness was a drug he could not get enough of. It was stronger and sweeter than any liquor, and he longed to protect it.

So damn the kruge he could get from selling the necklace. It was yours. It had been from the moment he'd seen it and swiped it for this heist.

Your hesitation dissipated upon hearing the sincerity in his words, and you pondered your response. "Only if you help me put it on sometimes," you said. A small smile curved your lips. 

Kaz was silent for a moment, considering. In his opinion, and he was quite the business expert, this seemed fair. "Deal," he said. He gestured for you to sit in the chair across from his, and he passed you a book of his that you'd started reading.

As the night passed by and heavy rain started to pour over the city, the two of you sat in his office and basked in the success of the heist and the sheer comfort of each other's company. You shared your lingering glances and tiny smiles, and when you left his office in the early hours of the morning to finally get some sleep, the necklace back around your neck, you couldn't wipe the stupid smile off your face or the memory of his fingers brushing over your skin out of your mind.

[silentmoths]

A vampires guide to feeding from a hemophobic partner. Ft. Neuvillette

*Pokes head out of the shadows*

Well heya. S'been a while.

What's brought this on? it started as a minor shitpost to @crystalflygeo's musings on vampire Neuv, and her mentionings of hemophobia- you know what it'll be easier to show yall.

So thats it. an elaborate shitpost.

Neuvillete x F! Reader. NSFW. Smut, general vampire goodness, Neuvillete being a fkn routine bitch because lets face it, he is.

Neuvillete could feel it. The…the pull, the desire, the need…the hunger.

The chief justice sighs as he pours over his paperwork. He would have to tell you tonight.

“Be beloved…I am hungry.” He tells you over dinner. Whilst he did not need to eat, He always made sure to prepare and join you for your evening meals…a routine one might say, he simply enjoyed spending time with his love, any spare moments he could get.

“Is that why you made steak for me tonight?” you question, knowing well his penchant for making you more Iron-rich dishes before he himself needed to feed.

Neuvillette nods solemnly, it was for your health after all; he would be remiss if he took and took only for you to become deficient. He doesn’t miss it, the sudden draining of colour from your face, or the increase in your heartbeat.

You were nervous, you always got nervous on feeding nights, and Neuvillette desperately wishes he could give you more time, but his hunger was a fickle thing, sometimes he could go weeks without needing to feed, others it was just a few days, it all hinged on how heavy his workload was. Yet he feels like more warning might be worse, because it would only psyche out his poor darling. Despite your absolute phobia of the very sight of blood, you insisted he feed off of you and you alone, an arrangement he happily complied with.

After all, whose blood better to nourish him than his darling’s?

He was always very organised when it came to this, anything for your comfort after all. After dinner and a bath, you find yourself gently tugged to bed with him, soft, nimble fingers gently massaging over your clammy skin. Sometimes you hated how afraid you were of this process, even though it had happened many many times now, without issue. You trusted Neuvillette. 

You trusted the way he spoke to you, the way he held you so gently in his arms, in the way his lips slowly travel the expanse of your throat. His murmuring compliments and praise as he slips behind you, your back pressing against his chest. Considering what he was, he always felt so…warm and inviting, welcoming, despite your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He always starts with a kiss. Most vampires prefer the side of the throat…it’s generally seen as an easier extraction point…and yet Neuvillette does not, not after discovering your aversion to blood; he instead chooses the nape, not as easy, and a little longer to extract his fill from, but this way, you never had to see a drop, and he could hold you close. “Are you ready, my darling?” At your nod, he hums, thanking you quietly before sinking his fangs in, using the light scarring from the times he’d done this before as a guide. 

Your blood tastes like the finest ambrosia to him, like the first sips of water after being stranded in the desert for weeks. If he never tasted another person’s blood again in his life, and only had yours, he would die a happy man.

He rumbles softly as you whimper, it stung, of course it did, even he understood that this was not a comfortable process. His arms cross over your chest, lovingly holding you close and steady, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your exposed shoulders.

He drinks and comforts until he’s had his full, until he can feel the warmth in his cheeks return. He watches and listens to you, always keeping a constant eye on your condition, he would never ever forgive himself if he overindulged and made you suffer for it. The next part is a rather rigorous and rushed process. His fangs retract and one of his hands quickly reaches for a disinfecting wipe, the moment he pulls his lips away, he presses the wipe over the wound, cleaning it up as he coo’s softly at you.

“You did well, my darling, it’s over now…let me take care of you.” he whispers in your ear, tone thick with love and joy. He feels much better now, and it was his turn to make you feel better.

He cleans and dresses the wound with careful hands, as he cleans you up, he tries his best to clean himself up, any errant droplet of your blood on his lips is licked away. “Rest a moment my sweet, I will be right back.” He whispers to you before vanishing into the bathroom to brush his teeth and rinse his mouth. Not exactly a necessity, but if it helped abate your fears in any way? He’d do it. You’re still a little shaky when he returns, but now that he’s sure that there is nothing, no sign of blood anywhere, you couldn’t see your wound, and he didn’t smell of it, he can finally descend to pull you into his strong, yet gentle arms, so he can pepper kisses along your face and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

He’ll ask you what you want as a treat, it could be ice cream, it could be a slice of the sixteen-slice a day cake, he didn’t care how late it was, he would procure it no matter what. Anything for his darling.

 This was, is and always will be, the usual routine.

However, one day, your dear Iudex, has another idea. 

It starts, as all feeding evenings tend to. He cooks you a hearty, iron-rich meal, he warns you. Everything follows the usual, until you’re clean and showered, skin soft and silky from the fancy shower products he always insisted on keeping for you. (He had his own, but he was partial to body products that contained little scents.)

You sit in bed, awaiting your husband, and are taken aback when he walks in totally naked. His slim, yet sculpted physique on full display for you, pale skin unmarred by any scar or scratch, perfect in every way. “N-Neuvie?” you stammer as he crawls along the bed towards you, his gaze…sweet, yet predatory. “I thought-” “Oh my love, make no mistake, I will be feeding tonight…I just thought I’d try something…new to keep your thoughts from straying, hm?” Just what had you gotten yourself into?

Soon enough, you find yourself, face and chest pressed into the pillows your husband absolutely ploughs into you from behind, your cries muffled by the silken sheet, his hands pressing over yours, his fingers tangling between your own. You were trapped, well and truly trapped; you can't even recall the last time he’d destroyed your pussy like this. 

You hear his growl from above you, and you moan for it. It wasn’t often Neuvillette lost control like this, but when he did? It was its own form of ecstasy.

You’re so caught in pleasure, you never once felt the prick of his fangs, the only indicator of a change was the way his hands moved to press your chest into the bed further, holding your top half still whilst he continues to thrust into your sopping cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do. You orgasm with a scream of his name before falling limp, fuzzy and barely-conscious against the sheets, only able to moan weakly when his hips snap forward, burying his cock as deep into you as it can before he cums, filling you with his hot seed.

That’s when you expect him to bite, when you’re in this soft, gauzy space of post orgasm. Yet he simply quietly tends to you, you feel the usual dressing gently press over the back of your neck and you blink in confusion.

“N-neuvie-” you whimper, his response is to gently take your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“It’s all over, my love. You did so well, you didn’t even notice.”

“W-wha..?”

You watch as he slowly rolls you over onto your back, giving your aggrieved spine a break after all that bending and arching. He reaches for the pitcher of water by the bedside, pouring you a glass first and helping you take small sips, before he takes a glass for himself, it wasn't quite his teeth-brushing routine, but for once, he didn’t feel it wholly necessary. 

You’re shocked, you really hadn’t felt it, there wasn't any pain.. “So.” He practically purrs as he leans over you to rub his nose against yours “what does my darling beloved want as her reward?” He asks, shifting some of his silky white hair from his face. 

“C-could we…do it like this more often?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. This was so…out of the ordinary for him, to change up the routine…so you figure you might as well change up the reward.

He tilts his head at you before chuckling, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hands move down to your back, massaging at the sore spots and making you groan appreciatively.

“I think that can be arranged.”

Taglist: @stygianoir@meimeimeirin@ainescribe@dustofthedailylife@rjssierjrie@crystalflygeo@asoulsreverie@zomzomb1e@moraxsthrone@mysnowmanandmebaby@inlustris-is-slowly-dying@pvbbyb0y

[neurodivergent-loverboy]

It seems like this needs to be said, so I'm going to say it:

Having an eating disorder is not a moral failing. Nope, not even if it includes an aversion to eating foods from unfamiliar cuisines. Sensory differences and anxiety about trying new things are morally neutral traits, and they are certainly not indicative of bigotry.

This does not mean that people with ARFID (or people who avoid certain foods for any other reason) are incapable of expressing their aversion in harmful ways. Take a look at these hypothetical statements:

"Guacamole is disgusting. I don't understand how people can eat that stuff without gagging!"

"I would never eat curry, it looks like vomit."

"People who actually like sushi must have something wrong with their taste buds."

"I don't like 'ethnic' food, it's all gross."

These statements are judgemental generalizations about foods from non-white cultures. They are disrespectful, close-minded, othering statements. Speaking like this about any cuisine, especially those that have been historically vilified by groups in power, is unacceptable. That is true regardless of a person's mental health or disability status.

Now take a look at these statements, and note the difference in tone:

"I can't eat seafood. It triggers my gag reflex."

"I wouldn't be able to eat that. I'm really sensitive to texture when it comes to food, especially greasy or mushy textures."

"A lot of the flavors used in Thai cooking are overwhelming for me, and I can't handle anything spicy."

"I mostly eat food that I already know I like, because that's what's comfortable for me."

These statements, like the previous ones, are expressing an aversion to certain foods. But unlike the previous statements, these ones center the personal limits of the speaker rather than placing judgement on the food they're talking about or the people who eat that food.

There is no good reason to conflate these mindsets. Shaming people with ARFID simply for having ARFID is not effective antiracist action - it's lateral aggression. Call out bigotry when you see it, criticize harmful and disrespectful rhetoric, and hold neurodivergent people to the same standards of equitable behavior as your neurotypical peers. All of that is possible to do without implying that a disabling mental health condition is really just a moral failing.

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

Is it possible to have both anorexia and ARFID?

I’m guessing it’s possible. It’s definitely possible to have more than one eating disorder. Anorexia and ARFID have this in common: both disorders involve extremely restrictive eating.

I think anorexia could also be mistaken for ARFID because anorexia can cause symptoms that are similar to ARFID symptoms. For example, people with anorexia often develop an extreme fear of food, also seen in ARFID, and may develop specific “fear foods” and become limited to eating only certain things.

So it may help you determine what you have if you think about what is driving your restriction.

ARFID is often driven by things like fear and sensory sensitivities around certain tastes, textures, and smells, a fear of choking, a fear of vomiting or becoming ill, or a general lack of appetite/biological drive to eat. Most people who have ARFID were born with it, though some people can acquire it through fear responses to aversive experiences like choking or vomiting. If your restriction is based on these factors, you may have ARFID.

Anorexia nervosa is typically driven by things like a compulsive need to feel thin, to lose weight, to punish one’s body, to validate inner feelings of unwellness, and as an unhealthy method of feeling in-control. Fear of food is not always immediately present at the onset of this disorder, but often develops as the disorder progresses. If your restriction is based on these factors, you may have anorexia nervosa.

If your restriction is driven by factors fron both of these categories, you may have both disorders.

I would like to note that I use the full term “anorexia nervosa” here to refer to the medical condition commonly known as “anorexia” because the word “anorexia” originated as a medical term for “lack of appetite.” So a person could have been medically diagnosed with “anorexia” but not with “anorexia nervosa” meaning that they experience a lack of healthy appetite, but it is not driven by the urge to change one’s body weight as with anorexia nervosa.

I hope this helps!

[promises-of-paradise]

'On Suicide' - an essay by 17-year-old Napoleon Bonaparte

(aka Napoleon's emo phase...)

"Solitary amidst men I return to my room to think alone and to abandon myself to my melancholy. Where does it lead me today? Towards death. In the springtime of life, I may hope to live long. I have been absent from my country six or seven years. What pleasure shall I have in four months seeing once more my companions and my parents? Can I not conclude, from the sweet sensations awakened by the remembrance of my childhood, that my happiness will be complete? What mad fellow urges me on to self-destruction? But what can be done in this world? Since I have to, is it not better to kill myself? If I was over sixty years of age I would respect the prejudices of my fellow creatures, and would wait patiently for nature to accomplish its work; but since I commence to experience unhappiness, and since nothing gives me pleasure, why should I endure days in which I succeed in nothing? How far men are from nature! How cowardly, vile and cringing they are! What is the spectacle I shall witness in my country? Fellow countrymen loaded with chains, all trembling, kissing the hand that oppresses them. They are no longer brave Corsicans animated by heroic virtues, and the enemies of tyrants, luxury and base courtesans. Proud and full of the noble consciousness of his own personal importance, a Corsican was formerly happy. If he had occupied his day in transacting public business, the night was spent in the tender arms of a dearly loved wife; his reason and his enthusiasm obliterated all the troubles of the day, tenderness and nature rendered the night comparable to that of the gods. But with liberty those happy days have vanished like a dream. Frenchmen! Not content with having despoiled us of all we loved, you have corrupted our manners. The present condition of my country, and my powerlessness to change it, are additional reasons for me to leave a land where I am obliged by duty to praise men whom I ought by virtue to hate. When I arrive in my country how am I to act, and what am I to do? When the mother country has ceased to exist, a good citizen should die. If I had to destroy but one man in order to deliver my fellow countrymen I would start at once. I would plunge the avenging dagger up to the hilt in the breast of the tyrant. My life is a burden, because I taste no pleasure, and because, for me, everything is wearisome. My life is a burden, because I live, and must probably always live, with men whose thoughts and manners are as different from mine as the silver moonlight is different from the light of the sun. I cannot, then, follow the only manner of living that could make life bearable for me, whence it follows that I feel aversion for everything."

(source)

[mamamittens]

Reader who got turned into a child with platontic yandere strawhats.

My god this crew is already chaos, and that's with One (1) Baby on Board (possibly more depending on your babygirl headcanons). Ngl, not super heavy in the yandere category, but I tend to make yandere groups lighter since they balance each other out more than small teams and it's harder to 'upset' the balance with so many people. Individuals may be unhinged af to make up for a lack of control, but groups can quietly distract you while the shady shit happens elsewhere. That and it's a kid, so there's less opportunity to meaningfully upset the dynamics.

Luffy is, of course, thrilled cause child reader is so impressed and enthused with damn near everything on top of being clingy. Screams laughing every time he launches them to another crewmate. Loves just bundling up the kiddo to run around with if they happen to go to an island. Food runs are with kiddo in front to distract Sanji cause he's not going to let a kid go hungry regardless of gender, though he will still gladly punt Luffy for stealing.

Reading time with Robin! Reading time with Robin! Robin loves hanging out with child reader raptly listening to everything she reads. If Reader can't read yet, she will teach them despite knowing they'll turn back eventually. Just really likes the chill, soft hang out time and absolutely gives %100 of her attention to anything the kiddo brings. Sometimes adding small, neat fun facts to enrich the experience.

Sanji is very careful with baby in the kitchen but will fondly have them assist with small tasks like carrying over food items and things that won't break if dropped. Can and will walk them through fun recipes with them on his shoulders, taste testing along the way. If he doesn't think they're old enough for cutting, he'll gladly let them mix or mash potatoes. Has them lowkey on Luffy watch to give the captain sad, weepy eyes that "you can't wait for the surprise, luffy 🥺?" works like a charm.

Zoro is weirdly good with kids and will jokingly engage them in a workout. Lifting the baby barbells for like, five reps before exaggerating how bored he is of his weights and inviting kiddo to sit on them only to effortlessly keep going. Or like, sitting on his back with an extra bounce to make them laugh. Naptimes are spent tucked into his yukata (it's a yukata, right? Either than or kimono, I'm not sure of the difference, but you get what I mean). Very easily gets Reader to settle down. Traveling with Reader is fun cause he will actually listen to Reader's directions and only get's lost like... 1/3 less of the time.

Nami is slightly awkward around kids for a moment before she just starts emulating her late mother. Getting them to help pick and sort her fruit harvests or doing small tasks to make them feel useful like delivering messages to the crew. Is the first to tie them down if the weather threatens to turn foul just in case or sends them below to 'watch over' supplies that she knows damn well aren't going anywhere. Might even go over budgeting (child friendly version) with them. Has an incredible aversion to engaging in map making with them due do her past trauma but, if the condition persists, she will eventually have them help pick out ink and paper, perhaps even letting them draw with pencils on scrap paper. But nothing more than that.

Franky has a blast making small inventions for child reader to pilot around with hilariously over the top safety added on top. Like a helmet for a bike with an auto targeting system that activates if they cry. Will gladly carry them around on his shoulders while showing off the many neat tricks he put into the Sunny. Has them 'help' with projects, at first forgetting that they can't carry whole ass beams of wood before giving them buckets of nails and whatnot.

Ussop is literally in his element entertaining the kid with wild tall tales until it's time to eat. The first to lift reader into the air if anything remotely dangerous happens before running off to a safe distance. Probably gives them a little sling shot to 'assist' in fights while he praises them endlessly for incredible aim (even if they never get close). Probably the first to make a child carrier to fights so they can 'watch his back for him' despite being a long distance fighter.

Child Reader will be absolutely floored by Brook, undoubtedly. Just wide eyes watching him play in awe as he shows off. Probably letting them play with his hands and the many small bones, quietly informing them of their proper names. If they promise to be gentle, he even lets them touch his hair. If he's got a child-sized instrument, you can bet he's giving them lessons on how to play. If not, he probably talks them through music theory while demonstrating the notes and details. I imagine he plays piano with their hands under his to give the illusion of skill while he idly comments on how much better it is to play with someone else.

Chopper is really thrown to have someone as short as himself around but he's happy to have their help. It's kinda hard to do some things without opposable thumbs, alright? Of course, work never lasts, so he's off to play with them in due time, really livening up the ship as Reader compliments him endlessly about literally anything. And he gives them fun health advice on top of convincing them to eat whatever healthy food Sanji makes (because we all know it'll slap, but kids don't typically jump right into gross healthy food).

Jinbe has a bit of an awkward standoff at first, unsure if the reader will be frightened until they gleefully marvel over his fishman attributes right down to his skin color and webbed hands. The one to swim with them (or just hold them in the water if they've got a devil fruit) never letting them go for a second. Has them 'help' steer the ship on occasion, making them think it's effortless for a child when in reality he's guiding them through it entirely. Talks about the people in his life that he misses with them, glad to have a child marvel at the great but dearly departed. Legitimately tears up when they console him in that special, innocent child-like way at the news that they'll never get to meet these people because their gone.

Now, the Thousand Sunny also has plenty of love to give in a much more... quiet way. Soothingly rocking child reader to sleep when they're struggling and no one sees it. Secretly guiding them to fun little cubbies and passages to spook the crew and captain. They may not be there physically, but the spirit is definitely guiding them every step of the way in the rare moments they're alone.

Of course, engaging in a fight while the reader is a vulnerable child is a terrible mistake. At first the crew will fight normally, shielding the reader and guiding them to less dangerous parts, but the minute it looks like they'll even get grazed a rubber limb is sending the perpetrator into the stratosphere. Assuming a flaming leg, swords, bullet, hands, water, staff, hoof, or (insert robo-tech here) doesn't do it first. Might even be a race as they keep the atmosphere light to make sure child Reader knows that they're still safe.

God forbid you make the baby cry.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I absolutely adore Tang River Water au!

I really like the idea that Tang accidentally drank water from this river and became pregnant just out of carelessness. It's too hilarious. An even funnier thing was that now their child is the rebirth of jade emperor. They can never have a break. Poor guys.

But for some reason it became very interesting to me what type of Tang will be during pregnancy? Will it be easy or will he be terribly emotional? Or something else, I would really look at it. I also think that he would really not like that when he tried to eat his husband's food, and then he started to feel sick just from the smell. He would definitely look at his stomach with anger and disappointment "you. traitor". And he would absolutely ask Pigsy to hold his belly in the later months of pregnancy.

I also really wonder how they would behave with their daughter. I know they love her, but I'm sure they're absolutely scared and DON't know what to do. I just want to know what they're planning to do. Will they overprotect her because she is the rebirth of the most powerful being in all of heaven? Or will they hide it? Maybe they will ask for help from heaven?

referencing.

Hehehe! I'm glad you like it!

Tang was just so thirsty after being in the desert (I believe is meant to be the Gobi) that he just leaps into the first water source he can find. Pigsy yells after him but Tang's already gulped down the yucky muddy stream water before Pigsy reminds him that there's a water purifier in the TEA. By then, the remnants of the Mother-Child River had already begun the process.

After his body adapts to the major magically-induced change, Tang ends up using his condition to get out of work/to get pampered on. Emotionally he's ok, just a little more worried than usual. And Pigsy is such an adoring spouse that Tang's symptoms rarely go unattended. Lots of cuddles and tummy rubs in the later months.

Ankles swell: "Oh Piggy~ My feet hurt." Morning Sickness: "I need tea and kisses!" Cravings: (Tang: "I require oranges, bao buns, ramune soda, takoyaki sauce-" Pigsy: "How about I leave you inside the Speedy Panda with 500 yuan and I close my eyes while you go shop?" Tang: "I love you so much piggy.") Smells: "MK you stink. Take a shower or I will literally barf." Painful Kicking: "Cuddle time." >:3

And if the *cicada* part of the Golden Cicada is acting up; he gets into carving/whittling - cicadas etch tree bark to lay their eggs. Pigsy now has many tables in the restaurant defaced with Tang's "masterpieces".

And I absolutely hit Tang with what (he believes) is the worst symptom on Earth; Food aversion. Specifically towards NOODLE SOUP. His husband's own cooking! He's distraught! Something about the combination of broth and noodles makes his stomach turn! Broth and noodles separate? Ok. Together? Instant morning sickness. He suspects its something to do with the texture of the noodles when their soggy.

Wukong: "Maybe your brain thinks its worms." Tang: *turns green and retches*

Pigsy goes out of his way to prepare dishes for Tang that don't set off his nausea, even if it means altering his traditional methods.

Pigsy: "Ok, I've been experimenting with a new dish for a while and I want your opinion." Tang, delighted: "Ooo hoho! You know I'll always be your taste tester, Piggy." Pigsy: *presents the elements of his noodle recipe* Tang: "Huh?" Pigsy: "You seemed really sad to not eat noodle soup, so I made a dry version so that you can still enjoy the flavours. The broth is on the side so you can drink it. The guy from the somen restaurant gave me some pointers." Tang, getting emotional: "You... you changed your recipe for me!?" Pigsy, grabbing Tang's hands: "Our family recipe, Tangy. That includes you and our little critic." Tang: *bursts out sobbing and shovels the dry noodle fixings into his mouth*

The baby - "Bao/宝/treasure or bundle" (also bao buns were one of Pigsy's cooking Tang could eat) - ultimately looks similar to a baby orc from Dungeon Meshi. A mostly chubby human baby with pig features. She has a puff of Tang's dark hair that becomes little black stripes on her back like a wild piglet.

What the baby takes after Pigsy in appearance, she takes from Tang in greediness. Before she's even off milk she'll try taking bites of other people's food. She's bold and confident, hilarious to anyone seeing a tiny piglet chasing Celestial soldiers like she's her own army.

And of course theres the issue of Bao being the reincarnation of one of the oldest and most powerful deities in taoism...

Pigsy and Tang are def the overprotective types, not so much for Bao being a powerful baby, but because every immortal seems to forget that she's still an uber-fragile preemie. Her health wasn't great when she was born (worsened by the circumstances around the birth). The freenoodles parents atleast have experience raising the little chaos monkey that was MK - the only difference being that Bao can't climb so good. Though she does seem to have control over the weather for some reason.

The Celestial Realm has to catch on quickly that she isn't the Jade Emperor anymore - she gets kidnapped atleast once by Heaven's officials needing the Emperor to approve paperwork. Bao screamed and grunted, rampaging around the imperial Palace the whole time.

The Queen Mother is saddened but adoring - her husband truly has passed on, but this little angel is a wonderful new beginning for him. She hopes to reunite in a later life.

Demons in general are pretty hopeful of Bao''s existance. Now that the Jade Emperor has been reborn on one of their kind - perhaps demonkind will be elevated once more? They'll have to wait until she's out of diapers before they start placing bets.

Princess Iron Fan's immediate reaction (after dealing with the shock of losing her estranged father) is to burst out; "HAH!" at the irony. Her father disapproved of her marriage to the Demon Bull King for his race - only to be reborn as a pig demon! The coincidence is hilarious! The Demon Bull fam does visit the baby girl to send their blessings, and offer advice based on how chaotic little Red was as a calf. Bao adores her giant uncle Bull since he's fluffy and big and smells like her baba when he cooks. She also gets super attached to Red Son for similar reasons - though Tang suspects it's because she smells grilled meat on him.

MK adores Bao, and will kill everything in the three Realms if anything happened to her. Bao in turn loves her big bro - even if she bites him and steals his food.

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

(Much more than) Seven Sentence Sunday

Thank you @carlos-in-glasses for the tag! Seven Sentence Sunday is so amazing because I get to read the most amazing snippets and get super excited about future fics, but getting tagged is so lovely because it makes me feel like I have a little deadline where I don’t have to write anymore than seven sentences which really has helped motivate me to turn some ideas into writing!!

I hereby post my very first Tarlos snippet and my first entry to Seven Sentence Sunday!

It is way way longer than seven sentences but as it is my very first time posting and I’m just posting everything I’ve written so far (I literally just wrote it this evening) I hope you can bear with me🙃

Btw this is just pure whump and domestic caretaking/them seeing each other at their worst but it’s the idea that I had the most clear words for so this is what I’m starting off with

Andrea picks up the phone after the second ring.

“Hola mijo!” It’s a good thing you called actually, I was just about to prepare the tamales for lunch tomorrow. How are TK doing on the spices at the moment, is he picking up some tolerance yet? I don’t want to make them too spicy of course, but I really think he should taste them the way your grandma really used to make-“

“Hola Mama.” Carlos hurries. He feels bad for interrupting her but he wants to cancel their plans for lunch tomorrow as soon as possible so he can get back to TK. After today TK will probably be a bit more spice averse than usual anyway, he thinks with a frown, even though they have been working on him upping his tolerance lately.

“Actually mama, I’m really sorry for doing this so late, but I think we’re going to have to cancel tomorrow..”

“Oh no mijo, why? Is everything okay?” Andrea asks before Carlos can finish his sentence, concern lacing her voice.

“Yeah.. I mean, not really”, Carlos clarifies, picking the bridge of his nose. “Actually, TK’s not feeling so good at the moment.” That might be the understatement of the year, Carlos thinks but he doesn’t think TK would want him to lay out all the gritty details of his current condition. “He um, he had those tacos, you know, from that place out by Cameron Road, the one that they’ve been trying to shut down for year-“

Carlos is interrupted again by his mother gasping dramatically at the other end of the line.

“Carlitos!” She admonishes. “You haven’t warned him off about that place?!”

“Why is everybody blaming me?” Carlos feels his voice raising to a higher octave in exasperation. “He doesn’t even usually work in that district!-“

Carlos is once again interrupted, but this time it is by the sound of a painful sounding heave coming from the direction of the open door to their bathroom, followed by a pitiful whine. It shakes him out of his exasperation at being wrongfully appointed the blame for TK’s current misery. Logical or not, he does actually feel bad that he didn’t warn TK off about the taco shop that is by now known by probably all Austin locals, and not for serving delicious tacos - unfortunately.

He can almost hear his mothers pointed silence though the phone, and sighs. The Reyes kids all know better than to argue against Andrea, and she knows it - and exploits in too, although only in situations like these when there isn’t too much at stake. She too, has learned that especially when it comes to Carlos, her doing her best to listen even when she doesn’t fully understand, has repaired their relationship after too many years of just assuming that everything was alright.

He sighs. “I know, I really wish I had told him about it. He really doesn’t feel good mama.” Carlos says worriedly. It’s not that he’s feeling incapable of taking care of TK, but seeing him being in so much pain always makes Carlos feel a little bit desperate and talking to his mom about it makes him feel a little bit less out of his depth.

“I can imagine”, Andrea muses, also sounding like she hates that idea so much. Carlos sometimes still can’t get over how his parents took to TK so quickly, treating him almost as if he was their son too. “It’s a good thing he has you to take care of him Carlitos, I’m sure you’re the best there is at making feel at least a little bit better“ she reassures. Carlos forgets sometimes how well she knows him - or maybe he’s still getting used to believing it again. “I’ll tell your sisters that you two had to cancel,” Andrea continues, “and you let me know if there is anything I can do or if you need me to bring you anything.”

Carlos takes a deep breath, feeling his mom’s reassurances calm him a little. He can do this. “Thank you mama, I will. Although he probably would rather not have anybody seeing him like this, other than me and maybe Owen..”

Another pitiful sound from the bathroom reminds him why he wanted get this conversation over quickly. “I gotta go mama, but thank you. And say hi to Ana and Luisa from us,” he quickly says, before hanging up. He has some shopping to do. But first he’s gonna go rub his poor husbands back for a little while.

I have no idea whatsoever of who has and hasn’t been tagged, so I’ll tag @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm in appreciation if their recent following me back because that made me really happy thanks guys (gender neutral)🙃☺️

Anybody else seeing this wanting to be tagged should consider themselves hereby tagged !!

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

hi, summer!

i saw your post about ARFID and how it can correlate to autism and other neurodivergencies that struggle with sensory input.

is it possible that you can explain better what ARFID is and the signs of it? ive heard of it before and have a slight understanding about it, but based on the article you told anon, i misunderstood it completely. could you explain it in a more simple way than articles explain it? i think that's where i got lost, is the complexity of most medical articles.

(even as a medical nerd, i still get lost in those darned articles sometimes, lmao.)

Hi Evan,

I apologize that I’m just getting to this, but I found a helpful infographic that shows signs and characteristics:

According to the article:

Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder is an eating disorder that denies the body the necessary nutrients needed to grow and function normally. Recognizing the signs of someone struggling with ARFID is extremely important in mitigating health risks. While it is not a comprehensive list, the following symptoms are some of the most common among those struggling with Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder:

Exhibit little interest in the act of feeding or eating

Extreme pickiness in choosing food

Difficulty chewing food

Lack of appetite

Social isolation

Anxiety when presented with “fear” foods

Vomiting or gagging after exposure to certain foods

Trouble digesting specific types of foods

Dependence on feeding tubes or nutritional supplements

Avoidance of specific food items as related to sensory features (i.e. texture, color, taste, smell)

Food refusal related to aversive or fear-based experience

For adults, weight loss; for children, failure to gain weight

While picky or selective eating is a common occurrence among children and some adults, it becomes a problem when there are not enough calories consumed to develop properly and maintain basic bodily functions. It is still unclear exactly what conditions put someone at risk to develop ARFID, but researchers do know that it is more likely to develop among people with ADHD and intellectual disorders, autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and anxiety disorders.

The full article will be below if you want to read through it.

In my experience, I love consistency when it comes to food and I have issues with food texture. For instance, carrots are good raw but feel and taste horrible when they’re cooked. It’s all mushy and gross. When I eat tacos, I can’t have lettuce or tomatoes because it tastes and feels so gross in my tacos and if I find a piece, I’ll cease to eat any more. I’ve also gagged and chocked. Not only due to eating food, but due to smell too. My mom cooked Brussels sprouts and it smelled so bad I was gagging and had to go outside.

Anyway, I’m sorry for going on. I hope this helps answer your question. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[alijuan]

One interesting elven characteristic that few are aware of is the elves' lack of canine teeth. Since they sprang full-fledged into the form they now occupy, they skipped the evolution process undergone by so many other races. Thus, although they are omnivores and their teeth are all strong, they have no pointed, canine incisors.

The Complete Book of Elves by Colin McComb

It's 2e and I don’t know if elven teeth have changed in later versions. I never really paid attention to that before Astarion. Anyway, it’s interesting as a headcanon. Astarion before vampirism with no fangs at all, not even a little sharp.

In real biology, canines (canine teeth; fangs) vary in shape and size depending on diet and killing behaviour. I haven't studied dnd vampire biology much, but it's more likely that they have long, straight, thin fangs, like felids (cats) for example, because that shape allows to bite flesh easily and deeply. Catstarion is not a joke anymore. As far as I can tell, hematophagous vampire bats (blood-drinking bats) have similarly shaped canines.

Astarion also seems to have (I'm not sure) sharp lower canines, which, along with the upper canines, are used to fix prey. My headcanon is that they are even sharper than in the game and that they extend when he feeds (like the upper canines). In addition, his sharp premolars from early access would fit better, this shape helps to sharpen the canines. Oval premolars (normal human premolars) are needed for chewing food, they don't fit to vampires. Maybe his oval premolars are part of the vampire’s disguise, but who knows.

Also, I recently read that common vampire bats (Desmodus rotundus) have lost the ability to develop taste aversion. Conditioned taste aversion is an adaptive trait necessary to avoid toxins. These bats can't do this because of their diet specialization (blood). Like them, vampires are monophagous (feed exclusively on blood), so theoretically they would have lost this ability, especially 3.5e vampires, who don’t need it because they have immunity to poison as undead (if I remember correctly). In that case, Astarion wouldn't be disgusted by the taste of Gale's poisoned blood.

[goatcheesecak3]

HI DO YOU WRITE FOR MATT FROM DYING BREED????

if so...... can you do a fic where him and reader (m!reader preferred but thats up to u :3) take a bath together???? it doesnt have to be smutty, just... some silly fluff???

Trip to Scotland

Matt x GN!Reader

fic type: fluff

warnings: none

summary: You and your boyfriend Matt enjoy a nice day out on your holiday, followed by a cosy evening sharing a bath

A/N hello! thank you so so so so much for requesting a Matt fic! He's so pretty i love himb. also!! i wrote this with the intention of making it x m!reader, but like halfway through i realised that i hadn't actually used any pronouns for the reader, so i just stuck with that, hope that's okay!

It had been a year since you and matt had visited rural Tasmania and suffered a terrible ordeal. Somehow, despite all the turmoil you’d gone through, not only had you and Matt stayed together, but you hadn’t let the events of that trip ruin travelling for you. Deciding that the pair of you wanted a change of setting, you had taken a trip to the beautiful Scottish highlands. A whole two weeks on a quaint little peninsular, surrounded by rolling hills and luxurious green fields spread across the land like velvet bedsheets. Having an aversion to camping, after your last trip, the pair of you had opted to stay in a gorgeous renovated mill house, with all it’s original architecture still in tact. This was most definitely a smart move on your part, taking advantage of the amenities of a house was by far preferable to a dirty tent.

This getaway consisted of long days hiking, visiting out of the way historical landmarks, and cosy evenings curled up by the fireplace. However, on one particularly rainy day, the two of you had decided against braving the treacherous conditions, and instead opted to visit a distillery.

“Babe, look!” Matt exclaimed excitedly, pointing towards a kiosk in the gift shop. A little sign read “free samples.”

“Knock yourself out, babe” you smiled. You were driving that day, so you couldn’t exactly sit around tasting whisky, so instead you had a little gander around the rest of the shop.

You found an adorable beanie, navy blue with an embroidered wild boar on it – it was the perfect gift for Matt, you always thought that blue brought out his eyes. After checking out, you found Matt back at the kiosk, having just purchased a pretty fancy bottle of whisky.

“For us tonight” He grinned, shaking the bottle by the neck, before slipping it into his bag.

“Now that is an idea I can get behind” you grinned, as the two of you left the distillery, “come on, you” you giggled, pulling him into your car.

The rain persisted throughout the rest of the day as the two of you browsed local knick-knack and gift shops. Matt looked cute enough to put in your pocket in his new beanie, which he was incredibly grateful for by the evening when the temperature began to drop. But soon enough, not even knitwear could keep either of you warm, so you decided to call it a day and head back to the mill house.

The crackling fire punctuated the sweet silence of the living room, as you snuggled up in an armchair to catch up on some reading. The reading was going to have to wait, however, when Matt burst into the room, an excited look on his face.

“Y/n, come with me” he beamed, his cheeks rosy from the warmth of the fire hitting his face.

“May I ask what exactly I’m giving up my precious reading time for?” you chortled.

“Just come onnnn” he whinged needily, holding out a hand for you to take.

It took no more persuasion for you to follow Matt and his longing green eyes upstairs, as he lead you to the bathroom.

He’d run a bath and set two tumblers and the bottle of whisky on a stool next to the tub. Matt stood proudly in the doorway.

“Now, I’m no genius, but I think drinking fancy scotch in a bath with your boyfriend is a lot more fun than drinking it alone with a book” He winked.

“I don’t know… books are pretty great” you teased sarcastically, already getting undressed.

…

Leaning back into Matt’s chest, you sipped your drink and closed your eyes, letting the hot water run all over you. Matt’s soft hands tenderly rubbed up and down your arms, his chin resting in the crook of your shoulder.

“Better than a book now?” He whispered

“yeah, something like that” you smirked, turning to look at him.

He pressed a delicate kiss onto your cheek, his arms weaving their way around your waist and holding you close.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he mumbled, the alcohol rendering him a soppy and affectionate mess – not that you minded.

“you’re not so bad yourself” you smirked.

“I’m serious, Y/N, look at you. I can’t believe I’m in a beautiful country, drinking the fanciest bloody whisky I’ve ever had, in a bath with the sexiest person I’ve ever seen.”

It usually took a lot to render you speechless, in fact more often than not, you had an answer for everything. But when the love of your life looked at you with those mesmerising eyes, so full of love and admiration, you almost forgot how to speak. You knew that no words could ever do justice for the way you felt about him, so instead you turned your body to face him, cupped his face and kissed him.

“Love you so fuckin much” you mumbled against his lips, earning a giggle and a squeeze around your waist from Matt.

“I love you too, baby” he replied.

[donnerpartyofone]

I have posted about this multiple times before but since tumblr's search won't cough any of it up, I'm just going to say it again so I can add my new thing to my thought process about trigger warnings:

Years ago a popular true crime blogger posted an ask from someone requesting that she tag for needles. I think she had posted that notorious x-ray of masochistic serial murderer Albert Fish's colon, which is admittedly disturbing, but she very politely declined on the basis that everything she posts tends to be violent and disturbing--you actually SHOULD find her blog upsetting--and users should manage their expectations around that general premise. Additionally, needles do not carry the specific traumatic weight of something like, say, racial violence or child abuse, for which a warning could be in order; needles are everyday objects that one might reasonably encounter in a store or a person's home, or practically anywhere. If you have such an aversion that it really affects your life to see a needle, you might want to pursue treatment and stop using a part of the internet that is essentially a giant random image generator.

My personal take on content/trigger warnings (are those different? If not then why do we have varying tags instead of one universal one to keep the system reliable?) is similar, that they're only important for material that could seriously upend someone's day. Is Thing X something you truly could not have expected where you encountered it? Would you need to leave work or school if you saw Thing X? Would you need to seek assistance or take a medication? Does Thing X cause significant social problems or affect your sense of safety? If not, you don't need a warning. I mean everyone can tag whatever they choose and of course some folks are happy to tag stuff just because someone might find it annoying or unpleasant, but you're not entitled to protection from strangers just to spare you casual discomfort.

One day I got this extremely angry anonymous message in all caps yelling at me for not tagging spiders. I had no idea what the person was talking about, but after a while I realized it had to be about a popular post I'd made years ago showing tarantulas in a Kids In the Hall sketch. This was especially funny to me because at the time I was posting a lot of explicit violence and sexual imagery that someone could reasonably object to, but this person felt that it was my job to help create the illusion of a spiderless world for their benefit. I know arachnaphobia is a real thing but I still think that if you suffer from it then it's your job to look after yourself and not everybody else's job to protect you from remembering that there are spiders.

This is kind of a tangent but I often think about how trypophobia is not technically a phobia because it isn't affecting anybody's ability to lead a normal daily existence. It's just a grossout thing, basically a matter of taste, but people love to try to elevate it to the level of a serious psychological vulnerability for some reason.

I'm thinking about this stuff (again) today because I just saw a post on one of the autism subreddits where someone linked to a scientific paper to answer a specific question, but they said it needed warnings for incidental use of the term "high-functioning" and advised that some people may not wish to read the paper at all so they wouldn't be triggered by it. That term is sometimes used to invalidate or deny care to people who give the outward appearance of less urgent needs, so it is indeed pretty tricky and needs work. But change is only going to come from attention; if you are concerned about the effects of that language then I think it behooves you to know how it is being used so you are able to argue about it and lobby for change. It's hard for me (a "high-functioning" person) to imagine a scenario in which I'm interested in reading about a condition I have, and then I refuse to do so because the phrase "high-functioning" is going to trigger a psychiatric episode so bad that it's better for me to just ignore information about my own health. I think an adult who is usually inclined to educate themselves should be able to handle occasionally seeing troublesome or outdated language.

Put more concisely than above, my criteria for warnings is just: when the questionable item relates to a real, reasonably common traumatic experience that would be unfair to spring on someone who could relate to it, and/or when the content would be legitimately surprising in its context. Like if you're in my corner of tumblr you should expect that you're going to see horror movie stuff, I'm not tagging anything like that unless it's miles over the line I typically draw. But on the other hand I was out at a restaurant one night and this spoiled egomaniac was practically shouting for a long time in graphic detail about episiotomies within earshot of everyone who was trying to eat. Honestly one of the staff should have told her to shut the fuck up. That's not a thing that people should be normally expected to put up with in a public dining situation, even though it regards a medical procedure that is not morally offensive.

It's probably obvious by now that I think that being uncomfortable and even offended, at least to some degree, has an important psychological and social function. It enables you to recognize and react to problems around you. Understanding what makes you uncomfortable is critical; dealing with discomfort builds character; and continuously avoiding everything you don't like keeps you infantile. It's actually not good to live in a world of only your favorite things.

[floatingcatacombs]

GENSHIKEN POWER LEVELS

12 Days of Aniblogging 2023, Day 10

For no particular reason, all the members of the Genshiken have had their abilities translated into specific parameters. It’s pretty obvious that A would be the strongest, but you might be thinking to yourself, “What on earth is all this B+ and C+ nonsense!?” Well, don’t worry, because I’m not going to explain anything here. Just consult the Servant Parameter Rules.

Overall, the ratings represent ‘otaku power expressed as deviance, taking combat potential into account’.

Spotted Flower spoilers follow. (everyone is bisexual now).

Sasahara Kanji: C+, B

Condition: Green

An “average” otaku in nearly all respects, though he has good taste and the ability to distance himself and speak objectively, even when under attack by girls. Can appreciate yaoi in some situations. As a manga editor, of course, his power increases, and his devotion to his waifu is commendable. The Gunpla Quiz gave him the Ball as his favorite mobile suit, and he’s also a Patwaber fan!

Still… Ahhh! Men who get in the way of Yuri are unforgivable!

Kousaka Makoto A-

BAYOEN! BAYOEN! BAYOEN! BAYOEN! BAYOEN!

Extremely high base stats, a very scary offense and near-perfect defense, that pretty-boy face, perfect crossdressing, and the ability to make it all look effortless. Capable of going at it for half an hour while also watching anime! He can pull girls for threesomes whenever he wants! (not Saki though). He’s a master of the Great Tanaka Rensa technique! That kind of power is truly fearsome… However, a kiss on the cheek from Sasahara was super effective.

Harunobu Madarame. C++/--

Sou Uke

A lot of pros, a lot of cons. However, it all balances out to an average C. This guy is the very picture of a normal otaku… or at least, he tries to be. Low base stats, excellent coverage and decent utility, but he suffers from four moveslot syndrome. Capable of entering a gay relationship, and even bottoming, although the circumstances were not particularly praiseworthy. Easily punishable, due to his excessive recovery frames.

…I can’t decide if cheating on his wife on the night she gave birth to their child is something that raises or lowers his power level.

Mitsunori Kugayama C-

Level 27 Ranger

A pretty skilled artist, when he has to be. Usually he doesn’t have to be, so that’s fine. Manages to live a nice normal life without drama, and that counts for a lot – but he’s pretty conflict-averse.

Souichirou Tanaka. B

P-Bandai 1/100 MG Master Grade Ver. Ka

Capable of successfully synthesizing 2d and 3d by sewing cosplay, building gunpla, and even making custom figurines. Tanaka definitely understands the power of care and love. That’s not the kind of power you can take lightly.

The type to mostly just block attacks until he sees an opening.

Kasukabe Saki E

Blood Type: AB

An otaku-sounding name, but a low power level. Not actually very good at conflict, either. Still, she has been to Comiket Comifest! Don’t count her out.

Ohno Kanako D+, B

Wears a Three Star Uniform

Just wants to be a pretty cosplay mannequin with no internality – until Ogiue shows up, and then the gloves come off. You can really tell the devs put a lot of effort into that jiggling, huh. Don’t take her lightly though: she built seven Goufs.

Her victory line, “There’s no such thing as a girl who hates homos!!”, does feel really out of place after a round win against Hato though.

The Genshiken President ???

BLOOD TYPE: BLUE

A mystery to the last.

Angela Burton – C+

“Unlike your chest, mine gives people dreams and desires.”

You’d think that not being able to understand all those doujinshi she’s buying would make her a weak otaku – but in practice not speaking Japanese just makes her really good at dodging attacks. Extremely high attack power. Eventually becomes an enlightened being capable of appreciating both Yaoi and Yuri and, uh, demanding threesomes from her friends. Hm.

Suzanna Hopkins – B+

Pettan Pettan Tsurupettan

Today I’ll sneakily hide in the trees again and keep stalking Ogiue! I'll wait and steal the precious thing!  The little girl who speaks in nothing but references is actually really blushing?! She sticks out her arms when she runs; is she going for the cute look?

This fanservice joke girl (evil spirit begone!) /

born into the nation of America (probably plays puyo puyo)/

was actually, canonically, (Kadabra, Alakazam)/

bisexual??????? (Mada Mada Ra, Mada Mada Ra, Mada Mada Rame, yeah!)/

Manabu Kuchiki – E

Stand Parameter: Development Potential E

The other kind of joke character. Like Sue, he’s a grappler, but he just doesn’t have enough options or ability to adjust to matchups. Gets points for liking traps, but loses them for one-note misogyny; gets  points for kissing Madarame but loses them for being boring. Starts a lot of conflict but easy and uninteresting to deal with; he always goes for the super so you just have to bait it out and then smash attack him.

If that wasn’t enough, I personally hate this guy because if not for him Hato and Madarame totally would have done That!!!!!  

Ogiue Chika D+, A

Genshiken Brigade Chief and Ultra Fujoshi Director

Incredible otaku power – enough to draw doujinshi of people she knows in real life and easily grasp the truth of Kifujin Kaminaga’s “Hato x Brother” madness. She does constantly try to kill herself and deny her heart but once she stops doing that she’s capable of producing incredible amounts of manga. Ends up with a boyfriend and a girlfriend but complains that sexually satisfying them both takes away from her drawing time. She’s bad at dealing with conflict but her pure ‘level of ability as an otaku’ is close to the top of the rankings.

This ranking is curtain fire shooting game.

Girls do their best now and are preparing. Please watch warmly until it is ready.

The border land was wrapped in Scarlet Magic. Girls believe that you solve this Genshiken Nidaime.

Yoshitake Rika C+++

Nen Type: Manipulator (Pseudo-Coercive).

A demon of chaos. Her power as a fujoshi is fairly standard, but she devotes herself wholeheartedly to causing problems and drama – and in this capacity she’s powerful enough to approach Hato. All her moves have random components… in serious play nobody uses her but among casual players she’s often considered broken.

Yoshitake Risa D

Noble Phantasm Rank C

It’s all fictional anyway but girl. what is wrong with you. Fails to appreciate Hato, but does get Hato to wear fetish clothing, so that’s a bonus. The gap between her appearance and her personality is moe.

Mirei Yajima D+, A-

Self-Proclaimed Uncute Girl Doing Uncute Things

Toiling away in the shonen mines, convinced that someday Naruto and Sasuke will kiss for real no you just don’t understand the depths of their relationship. A terrible artist, and she knows it. Grouchy and grumbly and insecure about her gender presentation, especially with Hato around.

But she’s a good writer, and a good editor, and she knows what she wants (Hato) and how to get it. My second favorite character honestly; I really love the way her complexes towards and around Hato play out. “He needs to have sex with a guy so we can draw better manga, which is the only way to make sure he stays with me!” Yajimacchi are you okay? (no she is not. She has way too much internality).

Kenjirou Hato. A++

Super High School Level Homewrecker

What is Hato’s otaku level? Let’s review: Hato is a crossdresser with a foundational crush on his older brother’s EX-level fujoshi girlfriend, going so far as to dress up as her, copy her drawing style well enough to end up with a wall circle spot at Comifest, and blush when she tells him “Hey. I’m getting married to your brother soon. It’d be really hot if you dressed up as me and fucked my husband-to-be, your brother, as revenge on me for taking him away from you.”

Hato has a naked floating tulpa girl of his fujoshi self floating around behind him who does things like make him smell his senpai’s bedsheets and shower in his room, hoping Madarame will walk in on him. Once he's in deep enough with all of this, he gains a second naked floating tulpa girl of his fujoshi self who has the same eyes as his older brother's girlfriend and is Evil. Hato then integrates both of them and keeps crossdressing after a conversation with Ogiue about what he really wants to be and what he wants to draw.

Hato is out of his fucking mind. I love him.

Hato’s conflict potential is also extremely high. Not only was he a judoka (who spent time in the locker room looking at other boys’ bodies and thinking about yaoi) he expertly plays all kinds of “ohhhh you should just give up on me” women games with Madarame’s pure maidenly heart.

And then Spotted Flower happens. Spotted Flower is a moiling toxic sexual swamp of barely-holding-together relationships and threesomes where your good old favorite Genshiken buddies are now bi (Kousaka, Sasahara, Sue, Ogiue, Angela, and Yajima, in addition to original series bisexuals Madarame and Hato) and cheating on each other. Everybody hates Spotted Flower and they’re so wrong.

By the time of Spotted Flower, Hato is living as a woman full time, with silicone implants.

Regrettably, I have no choice but to stan.

[inkwell-and-dagger]

xavarias lore which I'm making up right now because I have some sort of idea but idk if it'll change in the future or not

so Xavarias is like. a vampire. obviously. a silver tongue (metaphorically, or course; if not, he'd be in pain 24/7) enables him to get what he wants, when he wants, how he wants. he's probably british, cuz what vampire wouldn't be /j

when Xavarias was alive, he was known as Xavier Smith instead of Xavarias Seth. or doctor Xavier Smith, except he did 'treated' (basically experimented on) himself and animals instead of a human patient (foreshadowing raahh), like any sane doctor would. in polite society, he was a smooth-speaking but generous man. I'm not sure what century he lived in, but he's old as fuck. he looks around 29 physically though. he died at 29, so his current body hasn't aged past that. as expected, he died from one of his experiments. he also probably ate hemlock at one point cuz he's a stupid piece of crap /j

just like any other vampire, he has to feed some way. plucking random people off the street and trapping them in his house, not bothering to make any of them into thralls; their defiance and aversion to being a vampire's blood bag always amused him. he doesn't really care what condition they're physically in, just that their blood tastes nice. pretty much all of them die

uuuntil his whumper rolls along

you see, Xavarias likes to make his status as a vampire everyone's problem. he's a menace, an absolute bugger. he wants everyone to know how powerful he is, but maybe he's a little too open about his status as being nonhuman, which is where STS rolls in

(STS BELONGS TO @ash-1s-wr1t1ng RAAAHHHHHH)

uhhh so sts. now Xavarias is trapped in a cell with the wonderful test subject serial number 0055 after being monitored for weeks and captured with a lot of struggle. he's defiant, he's aggressive, he'll do anything to escape from this place.

buuuttttt his main whumper, Kaden (who was again, created by the wonderful ash), doesn't let him get anywhere near to that <3

sure Kaden works for STS, but in his eyes, Xavarias is HIS test subject. idk bro has some obsession with Xavarias or something. and the worst part is that Xav probably has to rely on Kaden for blood bags and stuff, meanwhile Kaden does whatever he pleases with his little vampire so long as the Specialists either don't know or approve of it <3

anyway I'm going insane. uhm what should their series name be lmao