#even if it’s about individual people mentioned in this

[dao-afterdark]

oubaitori

(n.) the idea that people, like flowers, bloom in their own time and in their own individual ways.

warning(s): male!reader, reader is straight (for now), brief mention of financial abuse, assholey behavior, threats, queer themes.

a/n: finally i have something to post on here! i was having such a hard time trying to figure out what to do, but i think i got something now. thank you @sooniebby for offering to help, and being one of my main big inspirations to even make a blog like this. here → is wei’s little bio if you’re curious! this is technically supposed to be a drabble, or an intro to what i’m attempting to create! please enjoy 🙏🏼.

Life’s full of surprises; some good, some bad, some marvelous, and some downright ugly.

You fled your parents house the moment you were able too; freeing yourself from the shackles of financial abuse and the stifling atmosphere.

One of your friends from high school, Cody, had a friend who had enough room for you to live at, and you took the opportunity without hesitation.

Normally you wouldn’t stay with a complete stranger, but you’re desperate, plus you’re sure you can handle yourself.

You arrive at the address that was sent to you and raise your fist, but the door swings open before it can make contact with the wood.

There stands a distraught and disheveled young man, a college student like you, you guessed. His fair skin was flushed from emotion, and his eyes were wet and wild.

“Uh.. Are you Wei…?” you ask hesitantly.

The man’s expression suddenly sours, his dark eyes narrowing in on you, lips curled into a sneer. “Who are you?”

The accusatory tone has you blinking, gobsmacked, but annoyance quickly begins to brew in your gut. You open your mouth to defend yourself when another voice from inside cuts in. It’s nice on the ears, but twinged with vexation.

“Yo…”

From behind the defensive man comes another man, his black curls wild and partially tangled, torso bare minus the barbell’s that adorn his nipples- something you stared at for far longer than you should’ve- and the robe that’s barely hanging onto him. He’s barefooted and wearing fuzzy, Hello Kitty pajama bottoms.

“…What’re you still doing here? Didn’t I tell you to leave already?”

From that statement alone, you knew pretty quickly what the situation had to be.

“Who’s he? Another person you’re toying with?” spits the irked man, glaring with betrayal at the man you assume is Wei, his thumb directed at you.

Wei rolls his eyes, a smile full of exasperation on his face. “Respectfully, get the fuck outta my house. You’re not my boyfriend, you freak.”

“Fuck you, Wei!”

“I’m good. I had my fill,” Wei throws back with a careless shrug.

“You’ll regret this..”

The heartbroken man then shoves into you as he storms off in a fury, the gate rattling and clanging as it’s slammed shut. It makes your ears hurt.

Some regret and agitation floods in your system.

Wei then draws your attention, pinching his chin with his thumb and fore finger, squinting at you. “Sorry about that, but uh, who are you? I don’t think we’ve fucked before…?”

You balk at his words, heat rising in your face. You defensively sputter out, “W-What?! No! We’ve never met before!”

“Oh! Sooo who are you exactly then?” Wei asks, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed, studying you with curious garnet eyes.

“I’m supposed to be your new roommate? I’m sure Cody mentioned me?” you explained, a little frustrated and flustered.

Realization eventually floods Wei’s face. “…OH! Cody’s friend! Shit that’s today!? Fuck, I’m sorry dude! Here come in!”

He rushes back inside the house and a hefty sigh leaves your lips, uncertainty clouding your mind.

Great. It seems like your roommate is a playboy of sorts. Hopefully that drama doesn’t trickle into your life…

᭄᭡ decor credits to: @/ribbonrabbitdaycare, velaazuretail, caecusmedicus

[unknownsvoid]

THAT GIRL IS POISON!!!

♬⋆.˚ | now playing: posion - Bell Biv DeVoe

✮⋆˙ | summary: as a succubus, you find this boy with pent-up energy and decide to take it upon yourself to make him your next victim - turns out he's a lot stronger than you anticipated.

✮⋆˙ | featuring: ticci toby/toby rogers.

✮⋆˙ | cw: smut content. succubus reader. reader has red skin, wings, a tail, horns and powers. switch reader and toby. somnophilia content. mentions of blood, scratching, spanking, breeding, aphrodisiacs aka drugging, rapists, incels, abusers, (not reader nor toby). loads of degrading, praise, etc. reader gets called whore, slut, etc. nipple play for toby's part. oral (giving).

✮⋆˙ | author's note: i love writing and sometimes it's good, but today, this is NAWT good. dear lord.

word count: 2.5k+

divider cred: @cafekitsune

Toby. That was his name. Your next victim.

You have had your eye on him for ages. He piqued your interest when you were wandering one night in a forest after having fed on some insignificant man. He didn't last long and was, honestly, quite useless, coming undone all too quickly.

You didn't want to kill anyone that day, but it was either that, or ending up powerless and lazy. So, you consumed his blood, allowing the excess to trickle down your pretty, pink lips. Carelessly, you left his carcass there to decompose in the near future. Apparently, this forest had its dangerous perks, so you doubted any human would venture around anytime soon, unless they were down-right stupid.

You were about to leave when you sensed something. Interested, you decided to investigate the cause – perhaps even identify a culprit. That's when you saw him, Toby, leaning against a tree with hatchets in hand. You concealed yourself behind a nearby tree, careful not to get too close and risk him seeing you. His aura was powerful, causing your legs tremble.

Sheesh. just how pent-up was this human? Sexual energy emanated from him intensely, enough to make one's head spin. Could he be a virgin? No, virgins don't typically exude such energy. Unless he was an unusually pent-up one? Your eyes dipped down to look at his hatchets, dried blood coating them. Animal blood? Is he a hunter? No, the scent was too close to human blood. This human couldn't potentially be a murderer could he? Not that you cared of course. You've encounter many disgusting humans, rapists, abusers, incels, etc. Of course, you were happy enough to kill them if it meant they weren't going to hurt anymore people. He just didn't seem quite the type to... murder someone, not even a bug quite frankly.

Then again, you necessarily can't judge a book by it's cover now, can you? You snap out of your thoughts when he suddenly twitches, repeatedly. You assumed it was due to the cold air. It was a chilly night anyway. Then he twitched again and let out a quick curse. Tourettes? Perhaps. It was rather cute to witness. He let out another sharp curse accompanied by a shaky head movement. You couldn't help but snicker at the slight gesture, which caused him to jolt his head up and stop leaning against the tree. His grip tightened on his hatchets as he glanced around to locate the source of the noise. You immediately jump into action and teleport away from the scene to avoid being caught. You didn't from stop there. His aura had you captivated, obsessed even. After months of research, you discovered that he belonged to a bizarre group of deranged individuals, monsters, or whatever were. He was a procey? prokey? Something along those lines. It turned out your inference was correct; he was a murderer. It was his job. A strange job, but then again, who were you to judge? You fuck people to survive. And another inference of yours was correct, he is a virgin. Perfect, right? And blah, blah, blah. Now you are here. Outside his window, peering in at his sleeping face. He look charming right now. His messy, chestnut-coloured hair in all different positions on his pillow. His lips slightly dry and open to certain degree, letting out soft snores here and there, drool dripping from his mouth because of the gash. His chest heaving.

You use your powers to unlock the window from the inside. Once you hear the click, you push the window open and sneak inside, being as silent as humanly possible (pun intended). You stroll up to his bed and take in his sleeping features once more before letting your powers ensure he remains in a deep sleep. You climb up onto his bed and straddle his hips. You cup his cheek and lean down to crash your lips against his sleeping ones. He tasted so sweet and then aroma of his sexual energy made you feel dizzy already. Your tongue explores his mouth, trying to slip as much saliva into his mouth as possible. You knew how much of an affect it had on people. Your saliva is a exactly like an aphrodisiac, pulling out as much arousal form your victims as much as possible. You pull your lips away from his, watching as your mixed saliva drips from his lips. You look down, a smirk etching onto your lips as you notice that a bulge was forming in his boxers, pushing up against your thong from under your skirt. One kiss and he was already hard? Cute. You feel your arousal also picking up after his so you slowly rocking your hips against his bulge, feeling it pulse and throb against you. Moans slip from your lips. You can practically feel the slick pooling in your panties. You don't stop, instead picking up your speed, rocking your hips against his clothed dick. Your eyes follow back up to look at Toby. His eyebrows crinkled and mouth opened wider than before. Moans leaving his lips as well. You could tell he was close so you stop your ministrations, chuckling softly when a whine slips from him in his sleep.

You shift your position lower until your mouth was right over his clothed dick. You hook your fingers on the band of his boxers and push them down. You gasp at his size of his cock. You were expecting it to be a little smaller. He was girthy and long, very long actually. Eight inches - bare minimum. Your shock swiftly turns into lust and greed. You lift your hand to push the uncircumcised skin covering his tip down. You peel it down until his pretty, bubble gum-tinted tip was in show. A fat blob of pre-cum drips from it, but you don't let it go to waste. Using your finger to scoop up the fluid and then moving it to your lips, sucking it off of your finger. Salty. You move your head down to sink your wet mouth onto his sensitive cock, looking up at him, observing him as he twitches and emits more groans and moans. You sink your mouth down onto him further, letting your jaw rest when his tip comes in contact with the back your throat. Your lips stretched around the girth of his cock before you tighten your lips and bop your head up and down briskly, swirling your tongue around his tip, letting more of his pre-cum drip onto your smooth tongue. You hear his breaths quicken, along with his heart rate. Your tail wags, enjoying the taste of him. After a couple more bops of your head, you peel your mouth off of him to wrap your hand around his sensitive dick. You give his cock slow pumps while flicking your tongue against his tip. You begin to move your tongue a little lower to tease the underside of his tip, pausing when he jolts a tad in his sleep. "Sensitive there, hm?" You say, a rhetorical question he wouldn't be able to answer anyway. You wrap lips back around his tip and keep abusing that g-spot of his. You notice the way his hands lazily grip onto the sheets. Close, aren't you? My mouth feel that good....

You think to yourself before speeding up your hand and tongue, watching his breath hitch and teeth clench slightly before unclenching again and his jaw goes limp. Soon enough, thick ropes of cum bursts into your mouth. You waste no time to lap it all up, swallowing it in multiple gulps, before popping your mouth off his tip and pulling your hand away from the base of his cock. "Still hard? You don't give up do ya', huh, Toby?"

You don't mind honestly, sucking his cock made you soaked. Some of your pussy juices dripping out of your flimsy thong and onto your thighs. You lift yourself up to hover over his cock. The heat coming from your pussy causing his cock pulsate in response. You slip you slip the wet fabric of your thong to the side and you push your pussy down on his cock. A moan comes out of your mouth as you start to glide your cunt up and down his cock, you and Toby sharing a shiver every time your swollen clit comes in contact with his sensitive tip. You lubricate his cock with your juices, slipping your hand down to grip onto his cock to make it easier as you push your hole down onto Toby's cock. A shaky breath falls out falls from your lips when your cunt sucks his tip in ever so easily and then you go down ever further, giving yourself a break when you make it halfway. He gives a nice stretch, you'll give him that, and you haven't even got all of him in yet. You changed that in an instant and give yourself a final push until your pussy slams down onto his cock, taking his cock in its full glory. Your thighs tremble and you adjust to the stretch - drawing your hips up nice and slow before slamming yourself back onto his cock. Pathetic whines leaving Toby's mouth, but you swallow them up with your mouth. Your aphrodisiac-like spit dripping into his mouth. You keep going, but then something peculiar happens. Something that never happened before. You halt your movements and your heart drops to see that his eyes are beginning to flutter open. His eyes stop fluttering and gape open. "Wuh-what the fuck?!" He says, glaring up at you before groaning. He looks down and his face churns in confusion, "Who are you?!" He looks you up and down, drinking up the sight of you. You were pretty, red skin glistering in sweat, horns pointy, wings complimenting your body, and your tail, with a heart at the tip of it, wagging. He gulps down his own spit to deal with his dry throat, a tint of yours still in it, causing his head to go all loopy. You smile nervously down at him and he speaks up again, "What are you?"

"Um... a succubus?" He paused at your answer, looking down again to stare at your pussy gripping onto his cock for dear life. He shrugged, if his virginity was going to be taken by you, a succubus (whatever the fuck that is). He may as well make it worth his time, right? He glared at you once more, clearly not trusting you quite yet, "continue then... slut."

A smirk formed back onto your lips and you oblige, bouncing up and down his cock without warning. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he winces from the sudden pleasure. His mouth falling agape and letting out series of pleasured noises. His tics trigger a bit from the pleasure he was receiving, which makes him to thrust upwards a couple of times, causing his tip to slam up against you. You grip onto chest, running your hands upwards until you reach up to his nipples. You tug and tease at them, while sliding up and down his cock which makes him whimper from the sudden attention. He was close and you could tell. You could feel his sexual energy growing stronger. You move your hands down to scrape your nails across his chest. But then Toby decides to throw you off guard while you weren't paying attention. You didn't even notice when his hands gripped onto your hips. He flips you over so you're both in the missionary position. He wastes no time to fuck his cock in out of your sopping pussy, a white ring forming around the base. His pace was slow, annoyingly so. You wanted him - no need him to go faster. You need his cum; his cum; you need him.

"H-hah... you can- fuck - go faster than that. D-don't be - shit - so shy!" You say with smug grin. His face perked in surprise at your words but he let out a snigger. He clasped down onto your hips, having firm hold on them, "Such a whore."

He sneers once more, "You like that, slut? Being called a whore?"

He takes note to your words and hastens his past, beginning to drive his cock in and out of your cunt. Your sloppy arousal acting as an lube as his hefty cock slams in and out of you, leaving you stunned. His thrusts were extraordinarily hard for a virgin. Speaking of that, how the fuck is this guy a virgin?!

His movements were unexpectedly accurate for a virgin, almost like he isn't a virgin at all. Your arms wrap around him as his menacing cock tormenting your pitiful pussy. His tip was no better, abusing your unfortunate pussy. You weren't thinking straight. Your eyes whirl to the back of your head. God, you were close already. That's a first.

The more his hips move, the more your orgasm reaches closer. You didn't notice he was muttering, probably something about you or him. Your eyes spin back to look up at him, sweat from his forehead dribbles from his forehead and onto your tits, leaving musty droplets on your skin. Brown eyes enjoying the sight of his cock drilling in and out of your sweet, sweet pussy.

"F-fuck! fuh-feel... so guh-good." He manged to get out with many stutters and bemoans. Wails, sighs, grumbles and whimpers of pleasure shared from the both of you fill the room. You were both completely drunk from each other's pleasure. You feel the similar feeling like always when you were about to cum. The tense feel of how how your stomach squeezes. He cries out in pleasure when he feels your pussy compresses around him like a fastened rope.

His flow began to falter and his grip on you was wobbly, delving his nails into your skin, or it feels like that at least. You know that's gonna leave a gnarly bruise on your hips, but totally worth it. The more he moves the more you got closer, but he was leaving you teetering on the edge. You whine and grasp onto his hands that was clenching onto your hip, pulling it away with ease. You guide it towards your clit, guiding his inexperienced fingers to draw slow circles on your clit, "ya close, slu-slut? Each plunge of his hips and soft tweaks against your hardened nub causes you to orgasm. He follows you as well, cumming with you. The intense feeling of your orgasm making your brain go numb and your nails into his back, raking downwards. That's bound to make him bleed. He wasn't paying attention - his head rolled up so you can see his adam's apple. His cock spurting his thick, ward seed deep into your gummy walls. As you both gradually come down from your high, he drags his cock out of your pussy with a pop!

He was about to say something but weakly collapsed onto you - tired. Probably from the energy you drained from him. "Cute..." Was the only thing you could reply with. You could stay for an extra thirty minutes. He deserves it after all. Plus, you could use this as an advantage. Apparently there's more people like him in this shitty mansion...

[feyburner]

hello, i hope you're doing well, the world keeps getting crazier which means that i'm spending more time on fanfictions and i've been thinking about your jaytim fics. particularly, jason and how human he is when you write him. his awkwardness bc he was dead for a while and then doing. not very good. and how he probably has to catch up on simple stuff like who even taught him how to shave??? sure he learnt how to wire bombs but that didn't leave much time for stuff like sexuality and romance? just some experiences that he was robbed off. also very much interested in your take on jason's morality re: killing and what it means to him. anyways i'll dive back into my jason comic marathon <3

God yeah I think about this all the time, it's one of the things that interests me most about his character. Like how fucked up to die at 15 and wake up at like 18 and immediately launch yourself into your big crazy revenge plot that you think it's going to make you feel less howling animal inside but all it does is destroy your chances at ever having like, a normal interaction. By the time you calm down a little you've basically skipped from 15 to like 20. And everyone around you is also a freak who will never live a normal life and some have even also died but you're the only one missing a huge chunk out of your formative years. (Don't care about conflicting canon timelines or retcons.) (I also like this on a meta level bc it mirrors the fact that Jason was For Real Dead from 1988-2005.)

Re: morality, killing: A lot of his character is about catharsis to me. He is hotheaded and impulsive and direct and unsubtle (see: heads in a duffel bag) in a way the other Bats aren't. Who among us hasn't seen a news story and thought "I don't believe in state-sanctioned violence but damn, someone should kill that guy"? He is the guy who kills that guy. And sometimes it's for "noble" reasons and sometimes it isn't, and sometimes he might like to think it is but it isn't, and sometimes it immediately backfires and makes things worse for the people he is trying to help, and it can and has made him a hypocrite. It is also, I believe, an understandable stance for someone who was murdered as a child by a guy famous for essentially walking around wearing a T-shirt that says "I Love Hurting and Killing People (and I'm Definitely Going to Do It Again)." Bruce doesn't kill people because senseless violence made him an orphan. Jason kills people because senseless violence made him dead. Of course a child who lived and a child who died would look at death from opposite sides. It destroyed both of them at a formative age in opposite ways. Bruce crystallized around the after, and Jason around the before. I think it makes perfect sense that for the rest of their lives they would keep seeing only the after, and only the before, and in doing so keep looking past each other.

I feel like a lot of Jason meta is either "The Bats are so naive, Jason is the only realist" OR "Here's why Batman is right and Jason is an irredeemable monster" or whatever. Neither of those readings are compelling to me. I don't care which character is "right" or "good." If I wanted to read about good people making morally airtight choices I would go read Goofus and Gallant but only the Gallant parts and then kill myself. None of the Bats act in a way that aligns with my real-life morals. I think the "killing question" is most interesting viewed in the context of an individual character's relationship with violence and justice and atonement and forgiveness and consequences and least interesting in the context of pitting characters against each other to determine Who's Right and Who's Wrong.

I wrote the following exchange a while back as an exercise to explore this very topic.

Warning for CSA mention below the cut.

-

“I mean, hell, what if he got hit by a bus? Anyone can die, any time. Think of me as a big angry red bus.” Tim’s eyes on him feel like burning, but not so immediate as fire. More like the warning heat of sunburn: for now a faint prickling, for weeks after an ache. “End of the day? I don’t think he should be alive. I don’t think the state should get to decide who lives and who dies, but I’m not the state. And I know people can be rehabilitated. I know there’s a chance he could change, and never do it again, and spend the rest of his days saving kittens and helping little old ladies cross the street. But from what I’ve seen, this kinda guy, we’re talking a puny fucking chance. There’s people the system fails and people who could be helped by a better system and then there’s people who aren’t gonna fucking change. They’re just gonna keep doing awful shit, because it gets them off. Hurting kids. Hurting anyone they think is less powerful, or less of a person. Fuck that. The thing is, I know they’re people. And I’m a person too. And I don’t have the fucking right. To be the arbiter of fucked-up justice or whatever. But you know what? I can’t find it in me to give a shit. If those scumbags wanna kill me back, they can have at it, that’s their prerogative. Until then, some fuck rapes a five-year-old? No, fuck that. What if he does it again? He’s already done it. Hurt that kid forever. Snuffed out that thing inside them, whatever it is that makes kids think the world isn’t a shitshow. Can’t unring that fucking bell. Why should he—once was too many! Don’t you get it? That kinda guy—once was already too many! Why should he get to do it twice? And so fucking many of ‘em do it twice. Can’t keep your hands off a little kid? Fuck you. Headshot. Problem solved. You can’t change my mind about this, Red. I didn’t make the choice to kill people on a fucking whim. I thought about Hell and decided I’m up for it. Alright? Fuck off.” 

“You don’t have to convince me.” 

“And another thing—” His mouth clicks shut. “I—what?” 

“I said you don’t have to convince me.” Tim examines his glass, tilting the last swallow of watery gin back and forth. “If I were going to argue with you, I suppose I’d quote a statistic about how something like 93% of childhood sexual abuse is perpetuated from within the immediate family, and killing the abuser could drastically destabilize the child’s living situation and potentially place them at risk for other types of harm—”

“There’s nothing stable about—!”

“—but I’m not going to argue with you, because I don’t want to, because frankly I don’t care. I should—some days I’m better, and I do—but I don’t at the moment. Not tonight.” 

Jason stares at him for long enough that Tim grows visibly uncomfortable, shoulders stiffening. 

“What,” he says, eyes darting up to Jason’s, then away. His long fingers never stop playing with the glass, rolling it slowly, tracing the same wet circle on the tabletop. Jason wishes he would just finish his drink. And hold still. 

“You don’t care,” Jason repeats. “Great. Namaste. So what’s with the interrogation?”

“Interr—?” Tim looks startled. “Jason, I was asking.”

-

So yeah.

[stevessecretfantasy2]

Lee had looked at herself in the mirror every day for months, imagining herself as a latex drone.

None of her friends or family would have ever imagined she would have such fantasies. She was a good girl, always dressed cute and modestly. A strate a student and vergin.

It all started 6 months ago she had been looking for a new doll and clicked on the wrong website. It shouldn't have been possible. Even if she hadn't actually avoided anything from the Freeuse Republic, considering it horefying and grose. Not to mention, the filter was supposed to block them. But one got through. The living doll clinic. Offering free complete drone conversion in return for signing themselves over for sail.

She clicked off immediately the 1st time. But a couple of weeks later, her curiosity got the better of her a quick 5 minute look couldn't hurt, could it... within the month, she was on the sight every day, lurning all about the process. How women are turned from individuals into mindless faceless toys. Used as sexual objects, urenals, pets, and just as ornaments. From uneke people to anonymous latex sex slaves.

For months, it became all she could think about. Spending her spare time tutching herself to ofer women who had been converted and all the perverted things people did to them. Or imagineg her own body covered in a second sinfetick skin.

And now she was about to finally do it. She had her appointment at the living doll clinic, booked a train to take her across the border into the Freeuse Republic and left a note explaining everything. Lee looked in the mirror one last time this it tomorrow she will no longer be Lee she will have begun her transformation.

Smiling as she shuts her door one last time, she can feel the wetness dripping down her legs. The feeling conforming this is the right decision. This is what she is meant to be.

[johannestevans]

Using Epithets Effectively

For the use of epithets, where you're using something other than a name to refer to the character - the other man, the blond, her elder, the policeman, etc - it's good to think about WHY you want that epithet.

Why would you use an epithet instead of that character's name?

Firstly, does the POV character know that character's name?

If the POV character doesn't know it yet, they're likely to fixate on the most obviously unique or identifiable aspect of that person's character to use as an epithet, and then stick with that epithet.

(I'm going to focus on first- and second-person narration and limited third person, where we're generally either limited to one person's perspective, or we're "head-hopping" between different people's biased and individual perceptions of an outsider. I'll talk about omniscient narration later.)

A uniform or position of authority is often the clearest - the policeman, the nurse, the flight attendant, the postman, the grandmother.

When your epithet focuses on aspects of the physical, for a character that the narrator doesn't know yet, the descriptor chosen might depend on intimacy.

You might start at the most obvious identifiable aspect from afar. Why does that detail stand out to your narrator, and why is that the detail they use to describe them?

The tall woman, the very little boy; the man in red, the woman in the big hat; the guy with the cane; that prick in the hairnet.

When we start to get a little closer - when the camera "zooms in" - our narrator might focus on particular details. Why do those details stand out? Is our narrator attracted to, or enamoured by, or disgusted by, or angry with this person? Do they respect them? Find them strange, off-putting?

We often get "the dark-haired man" or "the blonde" or "the bald bloke" or similar; "the pale man", "the girl with the freckles". Then, we get even closer.

A narrator might notice a character's teeth or fingernails, the details of a tattoo, the dirt or grease on their body or clothes, their scent.

People often focus on a character's eye colour, but how often do you notice a person's eye colour unless you're very up close with them? It's worth considering the setting for this as well - a character's eye colour might really stand out in a very bright environment, but not in a darker one.

They also might notice dark eyes or light eyes, but not the particular colour. They might notice a character's jewellery from afar, but might not notice the particular details of that jewellery until they're much closer. Might see the colour of clothes, but not the fabric or the cut or the value.

The choice of epithet doesn't just tell us about the character being described - normally, we have the character described, and then a detail is picked out of that description that our narrator fixates on. It's that detail they use to earmark them in their head, and thus their narration.

An older man obviously wearing foundation, slim and in expensive clothes, who keeps touching his hair and glancing at himself in the mirror, adjusting his posture, glancing at his nails.

To one narrator he might become "the vain man". To another, "the ageing queen". To another, "the pretty one".

To the first narrator, perhaps there's an element of judgement there. Perhaps they think it's silly or pathetic or embarrassing to see a man wearing make-up and worrying about his appearance. To the second, there could be familiarity - they know gay men like this one, and they see the archetype. To the last, there might be attraction or desire, the narrator noticing the effort that man is going to fuss over his appearance, or there might be an element of envy and desire to emulate that man, wanting to be as pretty as he is, to age as he has.

These are mostly physical aspects - another detail a narrator might focus on, the most identifiable one, might be an extension of the uniform I mentioned before. They might focus on that person's position of authority - the cop, the priest - or personality - the chipper young thing, the miser.

Class or nationality or religion might come into it - the nobleman, the Greek, the Muslim.

We might slide into the realm of insults and slurs - who amongst us hasn't been referred to by a relative stranger as "the Jew" or "the homo"? - or otherwise a tone of disdain or adulation or what ever else.

When we use an epithet to refer to someone we don't know, one thing is ordinarily true - the characteristic we are using is unique enough to distinguish that individual from others nearby or in relation to them, including ourselves. I, a gay guy, won't think of someone as "the gay guy", am I?

What is the epithet for? To distinguish that individual from others.

If the narration is in our own head, we're unlikely to worry about what other people will think of our choice of words, meaning we might be offensive or show our desire obviously in a way we might not to an outside party.

If we're looking at a piece of epistolary, like a diary entry or a letter or a blog post, or a first-person narration where the narrator is considering an audience, their language might be a bit different, more edited. They might use kinder language, or show off with funnier language, etc.

All the above is if the narrator doesn't know the character's name. If we DO know the character's name, why aren't we using it?

The non-diegetic reason might be "I've used her name too many times in a short while but 'she' isn't going to distinguish her from other women in the scene".

And that's a perfectly fine reason to use an epithet from time to time - but we also want a diegetic reason for the epithet. Not just why we're using an epithet at all, but why are we using THAT epithet?

If I'm in bed with my fuckbuddy or lover or whatever, I'm not thinking of him as "the blond".

Presumably, I know that guy. Unless I'm going through a veritable parade of sexual partners of recent, all of whom happen to have every other hair colour imaginable, I'm unlikely to think of him as some fella with blond hair, am I?

In some religions and superstitions one uses an epithet to refer to a deity or demon, or other higher power, in order to avoid somehow drawing its attention by making use of its name. In some cultures or situations, a name might be considered too holy to use, and so you might use a title or epithet.

An epithet, in short, creates distance between the narrator and the so-titled; it might create distance between the described character and their own identity, OR forge connection between the describer and described.

The latter is easy - "the other man", "my fellow doctor", "my sister-in-arms".

In the first and second cases, why might that distance be desirable? "The professor" or "the bitch" or "the submissive" create distance in different ways.

The first might draw attention to authority - "the professor" might represent their university, or their area of study, or the narrator's kink.

"The bitch" is rather different - it might be used for humorous effect, or to indicate disgust or anger with the titled character, showing misogyny, especially if they're the one female character amongst men. "This bitch" or "that bitch" might add to the distaste indicated.

"The submissive" is all about the titled's position in the scene - their identity is in their action, and in their submission to the narrator, or within the narrator's awareness. Again, it might be the narrator's kink - we can add to that kink by using a more targeted piece of language.

In a BDSM scene or a fight between dogs, "the submissive" means different things - or maybe it means the same thing.

In a BDSM scene, you might use an epithet that in-context means "submissive", but carries higher or different connotations. Supplicant. Slave. Subject. Patient. Puppy.

And then, of course, there are epithets that carry elements of possession - "his lover", "his sweetheart", "his nemesis", "his coworker", "his neighbour", "her maid", "her enemy", "her mother", "her darling boy", "the pain in her fucking backside".

These latter can be useful for omniscient narration - depending on if you're head-hopping (as in Pratchett's Discworld) between different characters and a broader, more distanced narrator. In general, it depends on how much personality you like to inject into your omniscient narration.

How much does your omniscient narration / narrator like the characters involved? How much do you want the reader to like them, or distinguish between them? Do you want your narration to feel possessive of your characters, parental toward them, disgusted, superior, inferior? Etc.

A lot of people understandably get irritated when they read a sex scene between two characters and they're suddenly referred to as "the blond/e" and the "brunet/te" instead of by their names, and a lot of that comes from people focusing on what "the camera" would see.

This is the view of these two characters from the outside, the same colour, the same weight, two bodies in a sex scene that might be mistaken for one, or at least, you might not be able to tell at a glance where one body begins and the other ends, but their hair distinguishes them.

But that's NOT all that distinguishes them. Even if they're both white skinny pricks in their 20s with chronic samefame, one has a nicer arse than the other. One has freckles on his chest, or more hair on his body. One is prettier. One is more gangling, less graceful, or stronger, or whatever.

Epithets themselves aren't the enemy, though. People might be amateurish or clumsy about using them, and they're definitely easy to overuse - as with any other narrative or literary device, the best epithets are the ones where you don't even notice them unless you go back and really LOOK.

And honestly, that's just a matter of time, effort, study, and practice, again, as with any other narrative or literary device you might work to use and understand.

[autumngracy]

Okay, so we all know how Trump has been cutting "DEI" funding, jobs, legislature, etc., to the point of scrubbing mentions of "related" words from government websites (in a hilariously incompetent manner, I might add).

Well. I go into work yesterday, and find something very interesting.

Now, I have a federal job; I'm currently a civilian DoD (Department of Defense) employee. And this entails having limited administrator privileges for a government run website.

Yesterday, while making a document, I go to copy a hyperlink from said website—specifically, the link to our page about the Exceptional Family Member Program (or EFMP), which is a subset of Army Community Service (or ACS).

And lo and behold, what do I find?

On the page that's supposed to show the list of Army Community Service programs, all the pages are still listed there, BUT! I hover my mouse over the EFMP link, and discover it is no longer a link! It is now simply a line of text.

"Hm," I think to myself. All the other pages are still hyperlinked. So I go to the website's search function. I type in the program's name.

The search results are alarming. The only semi-relevant results consist of the main local installation's Army Community Service page, and another page that is the national, generic page for EFMP (which simply describes the program in generic terms, without providing local resources).

But not our local installation's program page.

Our local installation's EFMP page is gone. Like, deleted from the site entirely. Though the program location page still exists—which merely lists its contact information—when you click the link at the bottom of said location page, which is supposed to take you to the local installation's EFMP page, it instead redirects you to the local ACS page.

Why is this so alarming?

Well. The Exceptional Family Member Program helps military families with disabled children get the screening, medical care, resources, and accommodations they need. It also provides these families with (usually free) recreational activities and educational opportunities tailored to individuals with disabilities or their caregivers.

Simply put, the program improves the day-to-day mental, emotional, and physical welfare of disabled children and their families who live in or around US military bases.

And it would appear the program has been gutted. Not only gutted, but quietly removed as though it never existed. Sure, there remains a generic reference page explaining what the program is, but it's functionally irrelevant and useless without any local resources.

(And to be clear, I don't believe they've left ANY local resource pages. For anyone. If they deleted our page with zero warning, and without ever telling us even after the fact, then I would bet they've deleted every other installation's local program page, too. And it's probably safe to assume they'll soon delete even the generic page.)

There are only three people on this installation with admin access to this website, and that's me, my manager, and my coworker. And the coworker has been out on extended sick leave. So that means that it was the federal government itself that deleted the EFMP program page. Not the actual installation's employees.

And it's not just EFMP. I've heard rumblings about more expansive cuts to the other family and child welfare related programs. Employees are talking in hushed voices and behind closed doors. People are scared. They don't know what will happen next, or even exactly what's happening now.

What's more, it appears the government has also cut funding for Month of the Military Child, a huge month-long event at every military base that celebrates children of military families—providing free fairs, contests, activities, giveaways, and more that involve pretty much every organizational division on the base, as well as outside sponsors.

And of course, federal employees have also been banned from recognizing or discussing anything about "Identity Months" like Black History Month, Women's History Month, Pride Month, Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, Hispanic Heritage Month, and more.

At West Point, they've also gotten rid of all the "DEI related" cadet clubs, including the following:

Asian-Pacific Forum Club

Contemporary Cultural Affairs Seminar Club

Corbin Forum

Japanese Forum Club

Korean-American Relations Seminar

Latin Cultural Club

National Society of Black Engineers Club

Native American Heritage Forum

Society for Hispanic Professional Engineers

Society of Women Engineers Club

Spectrum

Vietnamese-American Cadet Association

These clubs were ordered to "permanently cease all activities or club External Official Presences" and "unpublish, deactivate, archive, or otherwise remove all public facing content."

Additionally, all other clubs not listed above were ordered to "cease all activities until such a time as the club's status has been reviewed and re-validated in accordance with [Trump's Executive Orders, Department of Defense guidance, and Department of the Army guidance]."

And the creme de la creme? The fetid cherry on top of this wretched cake? Trump's spending cuts have apparently even taken away the funding for installation Fourth of July fireworks displays. Y'know—the same Trump who's so obsessed with idea of "Making America Great Again" and "America First".

It seems the Trump administration doesn't want you to be proud of being anything, anymore—even, ironically, of being an American.

Although, given the current circumstances, that wasn't very hard anyway.

[maxdibert]

My problem with Lily and James being seen as a super couple has nothing to do with Severus Snape but rather with the fact that when we look at the relationship between James and Lily through a feminist lens, it’s hard not to notice some pretty glaring issues that go beyond just whether or not they’re an “OTP” couple. Sure, on the surface it might seem like a story of two people finding love amid all the chaos, but scratch beneath the surface and you see a whole lot more about toxic masculinity, objectification, and the erasure of a woman’s agency. James is celebrated as this charming, rebellious “bad boy” with a roguish smile, while Lily gets stuck playing the role of the sacrificial, moral compass woman—someone who exists largely to balance out and even redeem the male narrative. And honestly, that’s a problem.

James is shown as this complex, active character who’s constantly surrounded by friends, enemies, and drama. His life is dynamic and full of choices—even if those choices sometimes involve manipulation and deceit. He’s the kind of guy who can easily slip out of confinement with his Invisibility Cloak, leaving Lily behind in a narrative that, over time, turns her into a background figure. This dynamic isn’t accidental; it’s reflective of how our culture often values male agency over female independence. Lily, on the other hand, is repeatedly reduced to her relationships with the men around her. Instead of being a person with her own dreams, opinions, and friendships, she becomes a symbol—a kind of emotional barometer for how “good” or “bad” a man is. Her character is used to validate the actions of others, which means her individuality gets smothered under the weight of a trope that’s all too common in literature: the idea that a woman’s worth is measured by her ability to tame or save a troubled man.

This isn’t just about a lack of depth in Lily’s character; it’s also about how her portrayal reinforces harmful gender norms. Lily is depicted as this kind of sacrificial mother figure—a person whose primary virtue is her selflessness, her willingness to suffer and sacrifice for the sake of others. While selflessness is often celebrated in women, it’s a double-edged sword when that selflessness is the only thing we see. Instead of having her own narrative, her role is defined by how much she gives up, not by what she contributes or the inner life she leads. And it’s not just a narrative oversight—it’s a reflection of a broader cultural pattern where women are expected to be nurturing, supportive, and ultimately secondary to the male characters who drive the action.

What’s even more frustrating is how Lily’s isolation is used to further the narrative of James’s redemption. Over time, we see Lily’s network of friends and her connections outside of James gradually disappear. It’s almost as if, once she falls in love, her entire world is meant to shrink around that relationship. And here’s where the feminist critique really kicks in: this isn’t a realistic depiction of a balanced, healthy relationship—it’s a story that subtly suggests that a woman’s fulfillment comes from being dependent on one man and his circle, rather than cultivating her own identity. Meanwhile, James continues to be portrayed as this larger-than-life figure who’s got a whole world beyond his romantic entanglement, a world filled with vibrant interactions, rivalries, and a legacy that extends beyond his relationship with Lily.

Another point worth mentioning is the way in which the narrative seems to excuse James’s less-than-stellar behavior. His manipulation, his lying, and his willingness to trick Lily into situations that serve his own interests are brushed off as quirks of a “bad boy” persona—a kind of charm that, in the end, makes him redeemable because Lily’s love is supposed to “tame” him. This kind of storytelling not only normalizes toxic masculinity but also puts an unfair burden on Lily. It’s like saying, “Look how amazing you are, you’re the only one who can fix him!” That’s a dangerous message because it implies that women are responsible for managing or even reforming male behavior, rather than holding men accountable for their own actions.

The imbalance in their character development is glaringly obvious when you compare how much more we learn about James versus how little we know about Lily. James is given room to be flawed, to grow, and to be complicated. His friendships, his rivalries, and even his mistakes are all part of what makes him a rounded character. Lily, however, is often just a name, a face in the background who exists mainly to serve as a counterpoint to James’s narrative. Her inner life, her ambitions, and her struggles are rarely explored in any meaningful way, leaving her as a one-dimensional character whose only real purpose is to highlight the moral journey of the man she loves.

It’s also important to recognize how this kind of narrative plays into broader cultural ideas about gender. When literature consistently portrays women as the quiet, isolated figures who are only valuable in relation to the men around them, it sends a message about what is expected of real-life women. It suggests that a woman’s worth is determined by how much she sacrifices or how well she can support a man, rather than by her own achievements or personality. This isn’t just a harmless trope—it contributes to a societal mindset that limits women’s potential and reinforces gender inequality. The way Lily is written reflects a kind of “tamed” femininity that’s supposed to be passive, supportive, and ultimately secondary to the active, adventurous masculinity that James represents.

At the heart of the issue is the lack of balance in their relationship as depicted in the texts. The idea that Lily “fell for” a man who was clearly not a paragon of virtue is problematic, but what’s even more problematic is how her role in the relationship is so narrowly defined. Rather than being seen as an independent character who makes choices and has her own voice, she is constantly portrayed as someone whose existence is meant to validate the male experience. Even when the texts mention that Lily had her own issues—like hating James at times or suffering because of the way their relationship unfolded—it’s always in a way that underlines her weakness compared to James’s dynamic, active presence.

Looking at the broader picture, it’s clear that this isn’t just about one fictional couple—it’s a reflection of how gender dynamics have long been skewed in literature. Male characters are given the freedom to be complex, flawed, and full of life, while female characters are often stuck in roles that don’t allow them to be fully realized. This isn’t to say that every story with a sacrificial female character is inherently bad, but it does mean that when a character like Lily is reduced to a mere symbol—a moral compass or a measure of male worth—it’s time to ask why and what that says about the society that produced that narrative.

So, what’s the way forward? For one, we need to start reimagining these relationships in a way that allows both partners to be fully fleshed out. Lily deserves to be more than just a side character or a moral benchmark; she should have her own narrative, her own dreams, and her own agency. And as much as it might be appealing to think of James as this redeemable rebel, it’s equally important to hold him accountable for the ways in which his behavior perpetuates harmful stereotypes about masculinity. A healthier narrative would be one in which both characters grow together, where mutual respect and equal agency are at the core of their relationship.

In the end, the story of James and Lily, as it stands, is a reminder of how deeply ingrained gender norms can shape the stories we tell. It’s a cautionary tale about the dangers of allowing toxic masculinity to go unchecked and of confining women to roles that don’t do justice to their full humanity. For anyone who’s ever felt frustrated by these imbalances, there’s hope in the idea of re-writing these narratives—of pushing for stories where both men and women are seen as complete, complex individuals. And really, that’s what literature should strive for: a reflection of the messy, beautiful, and often complicated reality of human relationships, where no one is just there to serve as a prop in someone else’s story.

Ultimately, if we can start imagining a world where characters like Lily aren’t just defined by their relationships to men, where their voices and stories are given as much weight as those of their male counterparts, then we can begin to chip away at the outdated tropes that have held us back for so long. It’s about time we celebrated the full spectrum of human experience—and that means giving women like Lily the space to shine on their own terms, without being constantly overshadowed by a “bad boy” narrative that has little to say about their true selves.

[totostales]

This is my translation of pages 212-215 of Rengger’s book - I attempted to keep some of the old fashioned sentence structure intact in the translation. I also translated outdated terminology with the English equivalent (Indianer I translated as ‘Indians’ rather than ‘Native People’) even though it is less correct through a modern lens, it is the word used. I hope this helps!

The Domestic Cat

How much the climate has a greater or lesser influence on Animals, especially when hundreds of generations are born under the same heavens, is proven by our Domestic Cats, amongst others, who were introduced to Paraguay during its first conquering. Not even 300 years have yet passed, and already we can observe stark differences between the European and Paraguayan Domestic cat. We must exclude the Domestic cats kept in Asuncion, in which the differences are less visible, as they have regularly bred with new arrivals. However, the Domestic cat in central Paraguay, where there is less opportunity for such interbreeding, differs from the European domestic cat, having shorter, somewhat glossier, sparser, and flatter fur, that is shortest at its tail. Furthermore, it is about a quarter smaller than its European counterpart, and has a more svelte and compact Rump, and its limbs are more delicate. This lends it an agile look, but due to its short and sparse hair, and its spindly and almost bald tail, it looks less than pleasant overall. On top of this, no matter how much you feed it, it tends to remain skinny. Only castrated males manage to come close in size and stature to the European domestic cat. But as much as they are different in their absolute size and covering, they are much the same in their well balanced proportions. It is rare to find an individual where it’s extremities are too short in comparison to their Rump, and these animals are sick, suffering from a form of Rickets which I mentioned in the section on the Jaguar.

The colour of its fur is similarly variable to the of the European domestic cat; the most common colour being an Ash-grey base covered in greyish black markings.

Much as the climate has had an effect on its body, its surroundings also seem to have influenced its way of life. Here, in the sparsely populated areas, it follows its urge for independence. For days it will prowl through the woods and fields, chasing small helpless mammals, hunting the birds in the trees by night, seemingly only returning home when it rains or storms. With this lifestyle it is no surprise that all of the cats in Paraguay are more or less scared of humans and mischievous, and that their natural dishonesty and moodiness are on full display. No matter how carefully one might raise them to be tame, they will become feral as they age; only males that are castrated young make good domestic cats, that stay at home and catch mice.

Even with this independent lifestyle and the warm climate, the Paraguayan domestic cat has not befallen to the wild state Horses, Donkeys, Cows, and Horses do when left unsupervised and uncared for for too long.

It seems its more delicate body has made it more susceptible to outside influences. It is not rare to find cats which spend the entirety of the pleasant season living outdoors at the edge of woods, birthing their litters there; when the rainy seasons begins they move closer to civilisation, bringing their young with them. If they did not do this, their young would perish in the winter. Also the old cats must not be able to survive the wet and cold for long, as in formerly inhabited areas of Paraguay, there remains no trace of the cats left behind by the Whites. In the year 1815 an Indian village named Taquati, which lay about 20 hours east of Villa Real, was destroyed by the Whites and they left behind hundreds of cats in the uninhabited area - in 1820 during the three days I spent there on a hunting trip I could find no trace of them.

As the Domestic cat on the one hand flees humans but on the other hand is so reliant on human protection in order to reproduce, it is self explanatory that this is why, even though they can reproduce two to three times a year and each litter contains three to six kittens, unlike other mammals that were introduced, cats are so rare.

It is strange that rabies, which is not an uncommon ailment of the European cat, has yet to be observed in a cat in Paraguay.

I should also note that more than once I observed a cat hunt down and kill snakes - even rattlesnakes. Using its unique agility, it would smack the snake with its paw and then dodge the attack of its foe. If the snake rolled up, rather than attacking it, the cat would circle around it, until the snake tired of moving its head; the cat would smack it again while jumping to the side. If the snake went to flee, the cat would catch its tail, as if to play with it. Using these advanced paw manoeuvres it usually would kill its foe in under an hour, without it ever touching its flesh.

Looking for French, German, And Dutch speaking individuals to assist with research & translation

My ongoing research into the history of hairless cats has led me to some sources that i either cannot read or cannot even locate because i don’t speak the language. I’m posting them all here in the hopes that the people of tumblr may be able to help locate them for me!

French sources:

I need people to locate the full text of the following academic articles

1. Letard E. La Naissance Et La Disparition D'une Mutation Au Sujet D'un Couple De Chats Nus. Rev Vet J Med Vet 85: 545–552. 1933.

2. Carpentier, C. Un Chat Nu. Rev Zootech 10: 298–300. 1934.

3. Collet P, Jean-Blain M. Le Chat Nu: Étude Morphologique Et Hérédité De Cette Mutation. Bull Soc Sci Vet Lyon 37: 175–179. 1934.

Dutch sources:

I need ANY dutch language publications mentioning Dr Hugo Hernandez’s breeding program which began in 1980. newspaper archives. magazines. books. i would cry if you found archival news footage. he was VERY IMPORTANT and yet I can find almost nothing on him in english.

German sources:

I need someone who can locate and translate the specific passage pertaining to the “paraguay scant haired cat” in Naturgeschichte der Saeugethiere von Paraguay (Natural History of the Mammals of Paraguay) by J.R. Rengger

Secondary english sources report that Rengger observed a population of “scant haired cats” and suggested that they were the descendants of european house cats that had adapted to the hotter climate. The text has not been translated into english and I want to know exactly what it says.

[meitantei-lavi]

hey colorado queer folks! as i'm sure y'all are aware, colorado is not immune to all the anti-trans bills that are being introduced nationwide, and the hearing for one particularly egregious bill is being held next week on March 4. in short, HB25-1255 would allow health care providers (both individually and on the corporate level) to deny medical services if a patient violates the provider's right of conscience, be that ethical, moral, or religious beliefs. also, this bill would make it so that a healthcare provider is immune to liability if a patient were to submit a discrimination claim.

though the text of the bill doesn't mention the trans community specifically (but let's be real, we know what it's about), this would be devastating for transgender coloradans. if you think that this bill is absolute bullshit, i would encourage you join me in testifying against HB25-1255. you can testify in person, via Zoom, or by submitting a written testimony using this link. i would also give a read of HB25-1255, or take a look at the bill's summary.

even if you can't testify, please spread the word! i've had people tell me that this bill won't pass because colorado is a blue state, but that is not a chance we should be willing to take when we have such little legal protection.

(i know i'm posting on the Queer Website, but this is worth saying all the same lol) allies! this is your time to show your support to the trans community in a meaningful, tangible way!

[theambitiouswoman]

Anon Ask:

What do you think about making peace with an ex and catching up occasionally? (I shortened it, but this was the gist)

Response:

In normal circumstances, I would disagree.

If you don’t have an issue with him, then it’s really up to you. If he’s been decent and supportive after the breakup, then it makes sense to keep in touch, especially if you seemingly want to- but only because the guy wasn't a horrible human being. It really comes down to how these interactions make you feel. If they drain you or bring up negative emotions, ask yourself—is it even worth it? If staying in touch keeps you clinging to the past when you’re trying to move on, then don’t do it.

Personally, I’m not friends with any of my exes, even the ones who proposed to me. Not because of bad blood,—I simply don’t feel they need to be in my life. We grew into completely different people and we are not aligned at all. I have never taken an ex back either, would I? I haven't been in a scenario that has even made me consider it, so I don't know. I believe real change takes time and even then, it has to align with your own growth. In my perspective, if someone hasn’t changed much and you still feel compatible with them, that means you haven’t grown much either. If we both grew into similar paths and there is love there, then it is what it is, you know? This is obviously circumstantial.

That said, your situation is different. You’ve mentioned he’s done the work and both he and his family have remained good to you. If you two are still compatible and there are lingering feelings, then do what feels right. You shared a long history, time has passed and there’s clearly still love there. You’ve both evolved individually, so reconnecting in some way isn’t unreasonable I just wouldn't advice to be too lenient, or rush into anything until he proves himself and shows you that this new him isn't an act. You will know too because it will feel different.

I strongly believe that in love and relationships, you can’t just push feelings aside or ignore them, you really have to see these things through. They don’t just disappear. No amount of distractions will make them go away if they still need to be processed. Suppressing emotions only delays the inevitable—they’ll surface in unexpected ways, through nostalgia, dreams or even in future relationships. It is not a fun experience I promise.

So, my most sincere and love filled advice is this: If he’s not a terrible person, he genuinely loves you and he’s good to you, then follow your heart. Whether that means friendship, closure, or something more, honor what feels right for you. There’s no right or wrong answer—only what brings you peace. Just be honest with yourself about whether this connection is helping you move forward or keeping you in an emotional loop.

[transgender-chiroptera]

OH YEAH I SHOULD MENTION.

My URL may be transgender chiroptera, but that's mostly because I'm trans! Please remember that non-human animals cannot be transgender in the way humans are because gender is a human social construct and animals have not got the same kind of constructs as us! With notable exceptions like seahorses, generally speaking stories of 'trans' animals are usually stories of intersex animals, so please mind your language regarding these phenomena, because intersex people are super important to discussions of gender and sex (which is ALSO a spectrum btw)! In that vein, please don't call intersex animals naturally nonbinary. that's not how any of this works.

Also, while I haven't looked into any specific examples, I am certain bats can be intersex (as can any animal really), because genetics love to do their thing and cause variation in animal's sex characteristics! I'm going to look further into it at some point, but I'm mentioning just to head off potential questions about it :>

[daily-hanamura]

[lucalicatteart]

-- Poorly Constructed Enchanted Tool --

A small tool carved from a fruit tree seed. Energy to power the enchantment has seemingly run-out long ago, and the method of recharging is unknown - but, based on the appearance, it's very likely that this was once used for detecting magic. Usually, looking through the glass center would highlight areas of higher magical energy concentration present in the viewer's environment, even if they were otherwise obscured to the naked eye. While this form of enchantment itself is highly advanced, the craftsmanship of the item is far less neat or complex than what might be typically seen in similar devices. It may have been made as part of training/practice, or as a hasty replacement for a previous tool that had broken.

[pinoruno]

😁

[violentlydefending]

genuinely always so shocked to see mirei hate. like literally god forbid women do anything.

[dysaniadisorder]

i hate how normalized military is in the us im gonna rip my hair out