#how do I get my poor little brain to transition too

[neurantics-theythem]

you say transitions are hard for autistics????

well then try being a TRANS AUTISTIC!!!!

[sannirio]

trust me i’ll be good

WC: 1409

dom jeongin x amab sub reader (he/him/boy)

18+ MINORS DNI 「i’m serious」　

cw - non!idol au, dom jeongin, fingering, dumbification, temperature play, sub space, degradation, praise, severe overstimulation, boot kink?

A/N: hey! i’m back! sorry for such a long hiatus but i’m finally here. i don’t have anything interesting to say, i wasn’t kidnapped by san or got into a car accident. but i’m here! i hope you enjoy:)

{p.s} i've discovered im transfem and im now starting the process of transitioning, i might write a few afab fics here and there but ill still focus on amab fics. i love you all <3

“what’s wrong baby? you keep staring at my hands… does my needy little slut want me to use them?” jeongin looked amused, as he usually did when you got this needy. he was sat at his desk per usual, in a classic black waistcoat with matching slacks and a white button up underneath. a silver rolex adorned his left wrist. his sleeves were rolled up as if to say “c’mon you little whore let me show you who owns you.” it wasn’t fair how he teased you you were like this. how else were you supposed to react when this is how he looked. all you wanted to do in this moment was to feel his fingers inside of you.

he moved his foot slightly, giving you the subliminal permission to fall apart on his brand new oxfords. you crawled forward, pushing your aching cock against his shoe. the abrasive leather sent chills down the length of your cock. riding his shoe like a dumb little whore always made jeongin’s mind reel. it took him an army’s worth of strength not to push you up against his desk and use you right there, but the sight of his pretty little pet becoming a brain dead mess over the smallest things was all he needed to keep himself in check. jeongin lifted his foot up slightly, pressing the bridge of his shoe harder against you, forcing a yelp to escape your lips and a flinch to propagate your body. he chuckled at the result of his work “you’re so pathetic.” he was right too, your husband wasn’t doing anything but sitting there in his vintage leather chair watching a slut get all messy for him and here you were acting like a total slut at his foot. you wanted more though and he could tell. with how intently he was watching you cover his shoe in precum there was no way he wouldn’t notice your glazed eyes darting to his hand every few seconds. from the very start he wanted to push his index and ring fingers deep inside you but doing that right away wasn’t fun for him, no, he wanted actually needed to see his poor pathetic slut make a mess all over the floor before he gave you what you really wanted.

in one swift motion jeongin stole his foot out from underneath you mid thrust, purposely denying your sensitive cock the ache relief it craved. in half a second his hand held your chin up forcing you to make eye contact with the man who made you like this. he clicked his tongue and nodded his head towards his lap, signaling you to lay down ass up. you did so, shaking ever so slightly from how pent up you were already. jeongin’s hands ran down your frame making you shiver. “so gorgeous” he muttered under his breath, grasping your hips tightly. a wash of cold air hit your side as he took his hand off your hip. placing his middle and ring finger in his mouth he made his fingers all wet, so he could slide them inside his pretty boy.

laying across his lap you could feel jeongins cock throbbing through his pants, your stomach was right on top of it so every time it flexed, you felt it push into you. he wasn’t going to let you touch it however. he wanted to loosen you up first, after all how were you going to fit that monster in you to begin with. a build up of pressure at your ass brought you back to reality, being cock dumb really does make your mind go blank. “open up hun” jeongin whispered. you whimpered as he slowly pushed his middle finger into you, feeling his knuckles graze your ass before he pulled it out. sliding it in again, you could feel just how much he enjoyed doing this to you. even if his entire hand was cramping he wouldn’t stop until you were begging and crying for him to stop. you felt a second finger slide inside of you (his ring finger.) the feeling making you gasp slightly as he bent his two fingers into a curve. his pace quickened when he heard the pretty sounds he loved so much leave your lips.

three fingers were inside you now, stretching you out. the rhythm jeongin had set was perfect… for him, it kept you right at the edge of an orgasm. every half a second the jolt of pleasure from jeongin hitting your prostate made ripples throughout your poor body. at this point you were crying, tears streaming down your face. why was he being so rough, denying you the sweet release you needed right now. your cock ached so much it hurt, twitching constantly making you flinch every time it even brushed jeongins thigh. he could feel the mess you were making as it had seeped through his slacks. precum ran down his leg making him flex his fingers, a tingly sensation forming in his brain in the process. a simple “fuck”escaped his lips as the beed of precum made its way down his calf.

flexing too much made the ache in your cock ten times worse but you couldn’t help it. with how precise jeongin was, hitting your spot every single thrust, it basically made a pool of pleasure in your stomach, waiting… hoping to flood your body when the time came. “p-p-please c-cum n-n-n-now.” those three words were the only thing you could remember in the entire english language. somehow even a slut like you knew what you wanted, with how clouded your mind was, the average person would surely think you’d simply lost your mind. of course this amused jeongin. though he was aching as well, he wanted to see how his pretty little boy came

over him. “what do we say when we want something dear?” he spoke softly, in a way that was sure to provoke your dumb mind. like you were programmed to say it “please” limped out of your lips, almost like a soft breeze. “what was that baby? i didn’t hear you?” “p-p-please” you whined. the strength it took just to focus on that one word was immense. the pain and pleasure that was in control of your body was almost too much at this point. cock dumb wasn’t even adequate anymore; it was more like just plain slut brain. the “good boy” from jeongin licked your ears forcing you back into that purely blank state. all you could feel now was the relentless build up from his fingers hitting your g spot and jeongins knee pushing itself against your dick. moving back and forth slightly gave way to your build up. his long fingers kept their pace, moving in and out of you at just the right speed. the sound of his hand hitting your ass filled the room along with your moans and whines. his free hand took hold of your hair forcing your head up so he could look you in your beautiful clouded eyes. “be a good boy and cum for me.” he cooed, forcing one last thrust deep inside against your spot. that single push was enough to break down the dam that held back every ounce of build up that was being stored. for how long you’d been at his mercy, your sensitivity was overwhelming. it hurt to cum, but you needed to. it hurt so much but it felt so good. your body contracted as you came, tears streaming down your face like rivers of the word pleasure.

once you’d finished cumming, and your high settled down, jeongin slid your legs down and hoisted your body up, turning you in the process so he could face you. “are you ok my sweet boy?” he spoke so softly, it was angelic. you nodded, your brain was still a little hazy but your senses were coming back one by one. a big kiss was planted on your forehead as he caressed your face. “did i hurt you at all baby?” “no…” you shook your head once again “but i do feel sore.” “ok hun, we’ll have a bath together ok? i’ll be gentle while im cleaning you i know you’re still very sensitive.” giving him a peck on the cheek you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the go ahead to sweep you off your feet.

(not edited if there’s a mistake lmk)

sannirio©

inspired by the lyrics of~

[frannyzooey]

On The Green: 2

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: M (corpses, harvesting violence) will be E in later chapters ❤️

a/n: thank you endlessly to @the-scandalorian who lent me her big beautiful beta brain, to @bageldaddy who made me blush with pride and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed my Ezra nerves by checking this dialogue like the queen she is ❤️

Series Masterlist

—

You know he’s waiting for you to speak, but you…can’t.

He takes his helmet off, and you can see his features more clearly. His skin has a ruddy look to it, like it’s been days since he’s last bathed or eaten well, or gotten a decent sleep. He looks older, more weary without the reflective dome hiding the finer lines of his tired features – but still, no less intimidating. 

He looks rougher, his sharp eyes darker and more assessing. 

Your eyes make a slow circuit between his hand, which still loosely holds a weapon, and his dead partner. 

There is no deal to be made here. Not for you, and you know it. 

“Kevva waits, girl.” The sharp snap of his words brings your attention back to his face. He looks impatient. “You ready to talk about that deal?”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, trying hard to fight against the sinking feeling in your chest. “What do you want.” 

It comes out more of a defeated statement than a question, and he studies you for a moment. 

“To be perfectly candid, I am in need of transit.”

You stare at him blankly, and he sighs with impatience. 

“I want your ship,” he states plainly. “However, I am not suggesting to leave you stranded if that’s what you’re thinking. As I find myself lacking��.” He glances over at his dead partner for a moment. “I am generously proposing we join forces. Protection, for transport.”

“Protection?” you spit. “You gonna protect me as a partner like you did him?”

“He needed no protection, I can assure you that,” he huffs wryly. “But you?” He pauses in his speech, narrowing his gaze. “What is your plan here, anyway?”

Trying to appear like you have one, you steady your voice. “I’m here to dig.”

He laughs as if your statement is absurd. “I find myself disinclined to believe that, but let’s pretend for a moment that is the case. You dig. What then?”

“I’ll repair my ship and be on my way. Home, with something to sell when I get back.”

“And who is going to help you repair your ship?” he mocks. “You know how to do that too?” His eyes drift to your father’s lifeless form. “Seems your partner is out of commission. I think perhaps he was the mechanic?”

“He wasn’t my partner, I told you.” The corner he’s got you backed in displays plainly on your face. You shift your jaw, looking away. “I’ll find someone to help me. Someone –”

“A girl like you?” he interrupts, raising his eyebrows. “You wander into a camp of fringely mercs, raw, at the end of their tour, what happens? You appeal to their sympathies?” He shakes his head. “They have none. They are ruthless profiteers. You must have something to offer or they will find something to take from you.”

The emphasis he puts on the last few words makes his implication clear, and panic creeps into your limbs. 

“We’re in the same trough, you and I. Can’t say I was pleased to find your mare all black and cockways as she was supposed to be my redemption as well,” he muses, looking around at the poor state of the pod. “But I know how to fix her up. I can help you.”

He seems sincere enough in his offer, but everything he’s done thus far shows you his supposed sincerity means absolutely nothing. 

“I want someone else.” A childish statement, but the truth.

“Well I want a lot of things too, little bird.” He looks almost regretful for a moment, before leveling you with his gaze. ”Starting with your ship.”

Your mind still stuck on what he said about the other mercs on this planet, you wonder what’s stopping him from doing the same. 

“They will find something to take from you.”

Will he?

You could try to go it alone, but your first fucking hour alone on this planet has been nightmare enough to dissuade you from that course of action. If he doesn’t kill you to get this ship, the next person will. If he found you, others will, too. 

You think, buying yourself some time. 

“It’s clear you don’t belong here, little bird. I’m your safest route home,” he argues. “That is the goal, right?”

You bring your eyes back to him, wary and he seems to recognize something in your expression. When he slowly steps forward like he’s approaching a wild animal, you scoot back. 

“Hey,” his tone softens. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re no threat to me, a fragile little thing like you. Anyone else would have killed you outright by now, I promise you that. You have a functioning ship – a rarity in these parts. I can help you protect it.”

“Only because you want to use it,” you sneer, and the edge of his lips lift. 

“Of course,” he replies. “I’m not foolish enough to offer my services for nothing. I promise you no harm if you promise me the same.”

“You killed your partner. Just now, right in front of me. What’s stopping you from doing the same to me?”

“I could have killed you a thousand different ways by now.” His voice slips into something lower, menacing yet truthful. “Like I said, you’re no threat to me. Besides, I think your ship would be better piloted by two, am I right?”

Seeing no way out, you deflate. 

And nod. 

“I need to hear you say it, little bird,” he tilts his head with a light scold. 

You glare up at him. “Yes. I accept.”

“Excellent!” he says, clapping his hands together, the sound making you jump. “First things first. Let’s move these bodies.”

The bodies.

Forgetting all about your new deal with a murderer, your stomach drops at the reminder of moving your dad’s body. 

“What’s your name, by the way?” The stranger grunts with exertion, lifting his partner’s feet to drag his body into a prone position. Crouching, he begins to pat the dead man’s pockets down. 

He’s callous about it, perfunctory. Not gentle in the slightest which makes sense since the man is dead, but still, there is something about the deft way he’s going through everything he had on him that makes it known that this is not the first time he’s done this. Not by a long shot. You wonder if it’s just from his experience on this planet, or an indicator of something larger.

“Mine’s Ezra, if you were wondering.” He gives a teasing glance, making note of your rudeness. 

When you don’t offer it, he merely shrugs. “S’okay if you don’t wanna tell me. I understand your apprehension. But I’ll have to call you something.” He seems to ponder for a moment, placing loose items he’s deemed useful in a pile by the man’s hip. “Since you came down from out of the sky, I would say “Birdie” is a suitable choice.”

You pull a face he doesn’t see, and then he’s moving the belongings to the side, making a clear path to the door of the pod. When his eyes shift to rest on your dad’s body, a sudden urge flares within you to stop him.

“He got anything useful on him?” Ezra’s chin jerks towards it. 

On instinct, you follow his gaze, immediately regretting it. You turn away in revulsion, the pooled blood a dark, congealed mass that sticks in your vision. Closing your eyes, you shake your head with a tight movement. “I don’t think he had anything on him besides his, uh…drops. Everything else is here in the pod.”

If he wonders what you mean by “drops,” he doesn’t ask. Instead, he approaches the body and glancing back, frowns at your hesitant expression.

“Look. You don’t—” he sighs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His voice lowers. “I’ll need your help with the big guy, but I can do this one by myself.”

“No,” you protest, forcing yourself to move forward. You can still taste bile, sharp on your tongue. “I should be the one—”

He puts his hand on your arm, shaking his head. “No,” he says kindly, but firm. “You shouldn’t be. A girl shouldn’t have to put her own father in the ground.” He steps around you gently. “Tell you what. Why don’t you head outside and keep watch, little bird. Let me know if you see anyone coming. Make no mistake, there will be scavengers looking for the same opportunity I was, and we’ve got to protect our only means of escaping this planet.”

He gathers your helmet to place in your hands, checking your filters are connected and charged. 

In your hurry to get out of the pod and away from the body, you’re already sealing your helmet into place when he snatches the thrower off the floor.

“Hey,” he calls out sharply, just as you’re about to step out of the hatch. He thrusts the weapon towards you. “Don’t forget your thrower. Armed. Always armed here. Understood?” His gaze holds yours in weighted significance. 

You nod, taking it from his outstretched hand. “Okay.”

Opening the hatch, you step outside for the first time. 

Everything is green. The brush, the trees, the sky–all varying shades of the color. Dust floats through the air; aimless, toxic, suffocating. You wonder how long you would last if you took your helmet off. Studying the lush, towering trees, your eyes follow the paths of thick vines that both climb up the trunks and spill over the dark soil, coming to rest on the soft dirt that your boots sink into. You lift your foot and the imprint you leave behind is as clear as the two sets that lead from the edge of the forest to your pod. 

The footprints circle the pod, and your stomach lurches at the thought that they were circling without you even knowing. 

Resolutely keeping your back towards the ramp, you tighten your grip on your thrower and use the moment to take stock of your situation. Your father told you a couple of things about this planet: the air is toxic, the population is non-existent, and the main reason anyone comes is for the aurelac. An amber colored gem found within the bowels of pit sites, the price it can fetch is significant. His drops clutched tightly in his hand, he told you of a neglected site filled with treasure—a rumor, the Queen’s Lair–his eyes wild and clouded with liquid that made them shine with foolish hope. 

That’s it, though. No map left behind, no coordinates. No solid confirmation it even exists. He only brought you along because it would be dangerous to leave you completely orphaned for however long it took him, and to take advantage of your (limited) skills as a co-pilot. 

When you hear a heavy slide and a grunt behind you, you keep your eyes on the forest, scanning the trees. 

Nothing to offer the man who has offered you partnership, you wonder how long it’s going to take him to figure out you’re of no value. Completely useless, better off dead and out of the way. Your mind scrambles for leverage, and you’re still thinking when you feel a tap on the shoulder. 

Swinging around, you point your thrower – directly at Ezra’s chest. 

His hands fly up in surrender. 

“Steady now. It’s just me.”

He must have connected your comlinks because you can hear his words, low and slightly modulated through your helmet. Lowering your weapon and assuming he’s going to take it from you, you offer it up, but he waves it away, resting his hand on a pistol strapped to his hip. 

“Good to see you’re quick on the draw,” he smirks. He jerks his head towards the pod. “I need your help with the other one now.”

You glance over his shoulder towards the woods, trying to find a sign of your father’s body and his voice snaps your attention back to him. 

“Hey. Don’t…” he pauses. “Don’t. Say your goodbyes to the Green, girl, but don’t go lookin’. You don’t need to see that anymore.”

Surprised by the consideration in his statement, you follow him up the ramp. Inside the pod, he lifts under his former partner's arms. 

“Grab the feet – go ahead and push, while I pull.”

It takes ages getting the massive, limp body down and out, but eventually it’s rolled down the ramp with a thud. Ezra’s breathing sounds loud, and he takes a moment to catch his breath. 

“What you want to do is cover the body with rocks. Try to hide it, so as to not attract any attention. The locals, they –” he grunts, dragging the man towards the brush, “—they leave bodies out in the open, as part of their ritual to honor the memory but I think it’s rather–” he shoves the man down a slope, letting gravity do the work for him, “uncouth.”

Slowly descending down the slant of dirt, you follow behind him. Not used to an explanation following orders, you listen closely to his words. He gives you more context for his decisions than your father ever did, and you pocket every piece of information, eager for it all. Anything to help your survival in this place. 

With both your heads bent in task, he breaks the silence after a few moments. “What was your father here to harvest?”

Lifting a rock from the ground, you toss it in the general direction of the body. “Gems.”

Ezra huffs a laugh. “Most gems are long gone. Discovered and harvested during the rush.” He looks over at you from the corner of his eye. “Got any information on where he was hoping to find unfound riches?”

“If most gems have been harvested, what are you doing here?”

He laughs in delight. “Rapport, how I’ve missed it.”

You take note of the way he side steps your question. “He didn’t tell me.”

“What did he tell you about this place?”

Easy to talk to, charming and affable, you can see how easily he would wheedle information out of others. Unsure how much you should really be confiding in him, you decide less is better for now. 

“He didn’t tell me anything. Just that we were going to come here to dig – or rather, he was.”

“Nothing?” he asks, surprised. “He led you here, unprepared?”

You say nothing, and his expression turns more solemn. He shakes his head. “Foolish, keeping you in the dark like that. My own partner was more of a utility. Seems like your father treated you the same way.”

His statement hurts, though you try not to let it show. You shrug instead, watching your steps as you pick through the rocks. 

He gives you time to reply, and when you offer nothing up, he continues. “Did you ever want to learn how to dig? Harvest gems?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever been asked that question, and when you look up at him to find him looking at the ground, you can hear the smile he has on his face through the commlink when you don’t answer. He continues, “I stumped you, didn’t I.”

“I don’t…” you flounder. You’ve always had a distaste for the profession, spending your life around the seedy people who do it. However, it seems rude to say that outright to his face. “I’ve never really thought about it. It would be useful to learn, I guess.”

“Maybe,” he says. “Depends on what you want from this life. It’s a big world out there, Birdie. If you could have your pick, what would you do?”

“Go home.”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and though it’s such a small thing to ask in such an endless universe, he just nods like he understands. 

 –

The bodies taken care of, he leads you back to the pod and tells you to wait there for him. He’s got a camp close by – a tent, filled with his belongings – and while he’s gone collecting it, you clean the disorganized mess inside the pod. 

Go home. You don’t even know why you said that, there isn’t much of a home to go home to. This pod has been more of a home than anything else has; the only constant in your transient life. What you meant was some place that felt like a home. A comforting place, where you felt safe and wanted and cared for. The place itself didn’t really matter, more the feeling it represented. You had yet to find it, but you knew it wasn’t here. 

The metal cabinets that line the walls had burst open upon impact, so you take your time methodically putting everything right. Medical supplies, vac packs of food, your father’s harvesting tools. His case, with his initials stamped on it. His supply of chemicals, his various scalpels unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. You snap them carefully back into their case, and put them away. 

Then your things: your bedding, your sparse collection of clothing, your journal. Wrapping the bound book in a shirt, you tuck it into your pillowcase, hiding it. Your headphones appear undamaged, and you test them with a couple of the cassettes that lay scattered across the floor. The music flows through them uninterrupted, and for the first time today, you feel a small sliver of relief. 

You find his drops underneath his chair. 

The tiny brown vial with the stopper you’ve seen him hover above his eye a million times, you aren’t ready for the resentment and rage you feel as you hold it in your palm. You can’t remember a time when your father didn’t have them on him. Slices of time flash through your mind: the sight of his back as he left you for days on end, the slow, syrupy drag of his words when he mumbled after putting the drops in, the feverish need in his eyes as he slipped the bottle from his pocket to calm the trembling in his hands – right before an emergency sensor went off in the pod and everything went to hell. 

The urge to crush it underneath your boot or take it outside and smash it against a tree flares bright, and a scream builds at the base of your throat. 

In your mind, you let it out. In real life, you tuck the bottle into a cabinet and shut the door. 

A signal agreed upon when he left, you know Ezra is back when he knocks rhythmically before entering. Busy scrubbing the dash clean, you’re going over the blood spots for the third time. You can’t see them anymore, but you still feel them there.  

“Got everything,” he states, removing his helmet. Tossing it on the ground, he rakes his fingers through his sweat damp curls with a sigh. “Quite the load to carry back. I’ll need space within your vessel to store my things.”

He steps towards a cabinet, and you stand, alarmed.

“Wait. You’re staying in here? With me? I thought you said you have a tent.”

He ignores the way your voice gets higher and tighter with every word, opening a door to peer inside. “I do, but it would be foolish to separate. If you’re opposed to discomfort, then you never had any business being on the Green, girl.”

It wasn’t my choice, you want to scream at him, but you hold your tongue. 

“Can’t you sleep outside in front of the hatch? To make sure no one gets in?”

He shakes his head, opening another cabinet. He rifles through your medical supplies, impressed. “This beauty really is fully stocked, isn’t she? No wonder I thought she’d be my redemption. Riches beyond belief hidden within her unassuming depths.”

He’s murmuring more to himself than anyone, and annoyance begins to simmer at the careless way he’s putting your freshly organized things back. You’re just about to repeat yourself when he closes the door and turns to you. 

“It won’t do to sleep outside. I need to protect this pod just as much as I need to watch over you.”

He opens another cabinet, and your cassettes spill out with a slide. 

“What are these?” he asks, already bending to pick one up. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Snatching it from his hand, you kneel down to gather them up. Huffing with frustration, you cram them back into their storage and shut the door quickly. 

He watches it all, his jaw shifting in thought. 

“Look,” he ventures. “I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s gonna be a long couple of months if you don’t trust me.”

You say nothing, and he sighs. 

“A good partnership is only made so by candid discourse.”

He’s right. You know he’s right, and yet you don’t have it in you to acknowledge it out loud. How he expects you trust him you truly don’t know, and yet in the hours since you’ve met him, he has shown you kindness. A partnership offer when you don’t deserve it, protection against his former partner, burying your father for you. Whether that kindness is real or a ruse to have you lower your defenses, you don’t know. 

Either way, you don’t really have a choice. 

“There are a couple of spare storage bins over there,” you gesture at the corner, defeated. “You can put your things in there.”

“My sincerest thanks,” he replies with a slip of sarcasm, and turning back to your cleaning, you roll your eyes. 

–

“I need to protect this pod just as much as I need to watch over you.”

The words repeat on a loop in your mind; your body shifting on the stiff cot. His presence in the small space feels foreign, your body hyper aware of it. You’ve never slept in this pod with anyone but your father. 

Your father. 

You wait for the grief to come, but when it doesn’t, you blame shock. The alternative would be to think about how you feel nothing, which, what kind of a daughter loses her father and feels nothing? Tendrils of shame seep through your thoughts, and you roll away from Ezra as if he can see into your mind. Your back facing him, you try to shut him out, focusing instead on the moon outside the window. 

It’s full, high and clear above the horizon, suspended in the inky sky. Your eyes study the craters carved into the surface, and you take slow and steady breaths out, mimicking sleep. You wish you could slip your headphones on and drown out the tension that fills the small space, but you don’t want to leave yourself vulnerable like that. 

You hear him shuffle behind you, and your shoulders brace themselves with tension – but when he doesn’t make any other sound, you go back to watching the floating dust. 

Isolated, alone. No different than any of the other thousands of nights you’ve spent staring out at the moon while waiting for your father to come home. The weight of your situation compresses the air in your lungs, and you feel the sharp, hot sting of tears behind your eyes. Squeezing them shut, you will them away. 

You won’t cry in here with him. You won’t. 

Both resentfully frustrated with his presence and deep down, grateful for it, you cross your arms tight across your chest and squeeze. Pouring all your emotions into the pocket of your chest, you squeeze and you squeeze, soothing yourself. 

He shuffles around quietly behind you, getting comfortable on his own cot and you’re thinking it’s going to be a long night just before the weight of the day presses upon your eyelids. 

They flutter shut, and you fall into a dreamless sleep.

[tentacleplains]

all symbols for eden and sydney??? i wanna hear your headcanons!! :D

hi sorry this took so long!! under the cut because it's almost 1k words haha

put a symbol (or several) and a character/characters in my ask box, and I’ll give you a headcanon!

☾ - sleep headcanon

when you’re sleeping in eden’s bed they cling to you like a koala. which is a little unwieldy and uncomfortable given your respective sizes and occasionally painful because they hold you too tight sometimes.

sydney is a (canonically, i think) poor sleeper and has a scent diffuser in her room to help relax enough to actually get to sleep.

★ - sad headcanon

eden goes and hides away like a sick dog waiting to die if they get too sad. they don’t want you seeing them like that and they feel like it detracts from their “strong protective husband” (gender neutral) archetype. when they come back they act like nothing ever happened.

after [mysterious and unconfirmed canon trauma that probably includes kylar and definitely includes harper], sydney spent a lot of time crying sporadically and having terrible nightmares. jordan and sirris helped, and harper… did what they did, though only time really lessened the frequency of her breakdowns.

☆ - happy headcanon

eden likes to pick you up and spin you if they’re particularly excited or pleased.

sydney does happy stims, though she tries to keep it discreet because she gets embarrassed.

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

eden needs to do something physical to get their anger out. working out, chopping wood, sex, hand to hand combat. whatever makes them sore and gets them to work up a sweat.

sydney tries and mostly succeeds to keep a handle on her anger, but she’s not immune to accidentally snapping writing utensils in half in her hands when pissed.

✿ - Sex headcanon

eden gets really turned on by the idea of seeing their dick/strap bulge through your body when they’re fucking you. whether or not this is actually possible is irrelevant.

at the first possible opportunity after corruption, sydney tries to attend a bdsm/kink party with you. unfortunately for her there are too many people and she promptly gets overstimulated and wants to leave.

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

eden didn’t originally build their cabin, but they take it upon themself to do repairs when it gets damaged and by this point it’s a bit of a ship of theseus situation.

sydney had a hyperfeminine phase early on in her transition. it didn’t quite fit for her so she eventually phased it out, but her room is still a casualty of that. her bed is covered in plushies.

♡ - romantic headcanon

eden takes some of their romantic cues from romance novels. bodice rippers and the like. whether it works or not depends on if you have stockholm syndrome: eden

syd will swoon and die if you do big, public romantic gestures for her. she likes everyone else seeing that she’s taken, and in such a grandiose way too.

♥ - family headcanon

eden’s parents were terribly abusive, to eden themself and towards each other. this is where their obsession with being a stereotypical protector/provider husband stems from, and because of how terribly their parents treated each other, no amount of mistreatment they pile on you will register to them as abuse because they can justify their actions to themself, and they grew up watching worse.

when sydney started medically transitioning, sirris took it upon himself to research the effects of HRT on the body. syd got rather long and rather uncomfortable in-depth explanations of the changes she’d be going through, but at least she was informed…?

☮ - friendship headcanon

bailey and eden’s friendship started off as transactional and businesslike, bailey being the brains and eden being the brawns. it also started off with a fight, like a hand to hand schoolyard wrestling type fight.

syd likes to hang off of her friends’ arms. she gets very clingy and touchy-feely when she likes you.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

eden does wood carving. none of it turns out good enough for them to want to bother keeping, though, so none of it is in the cabin.

if sydney ever gives up wearing her rosary, she’ll replace it with a worry stone around her neck. she needs to have something easily accessible to fidget with to self-soothe. 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

eden’s favorite flavor is citrus.

in practice, sydney drinks more coffee, but they prefer tea.

▼ - childhood headcanon

when their home life got too bad, eden would go and climb a tree and hide out in the branches for a while until things had calmed down. this proved to be a poor defense mechanism when the animals started getting as bad as the humans, as is the dolville way...

sydney and kylar picked up their doodling habits from each other. when they were still friends, they’d come home from school each day with their arms covered in each other’s scribbles.

∇ - old age/aging headcanon

later in life eden has to get glasses. if they lived a normal lifestyle, they could probably get away without wearing them, but a hunter has to have sharp eyesight.

sydney starts greying early, partly due to stress and partly due to genetics.

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

eden knows how to make like five things maybe. and they’re completely fine with it they’d be happy to have the same breakfast/lunch/dinner every day for the rest of their life. they can make one (1) vaguely sweet dessert-type thing for special occasions.

syd has only ever used induction/electric stovetops and she’s scared of gas stoves.

☼ - appearance headcanon

f!eden doesn’t shave at all. m!eden doesn’t let his beard get anywhere past stubble.

hrt was generous to syd in the chest department. it was less generous to kylar, who is jealous of sydney’s size.

ൠ - random headcanon

eden pushes through it, but humidity is terrible on their body. their joints get the worst of it but their scars act up too.

sydney’s favorite sanrio character is keroppi.

[moony-2001]

Lore Olympus ep. 254 critique

Well I can officially say that Persephone is the most selfish person in the comic

What in the Disney ripoff

So obviously it’s too late and Zeus is poisoned and ✨wow, how convenient✨ Apollo is suddenly there with Leto (who btw we haven’t seen in almost 100 episodes). I don't really want to focus on his confrontation with Eros and Psyche, because let's be real, it wasn't much of a confrontation. No, instead I want to focus on this:

My first thought when I saw the whole blackmail scene coupled with this was "What in the Lion King is this bullshit." Seriously. This is almost verbatim to what Scar says to Simba (except Scar as a villain is actually intimidating and Apollo, well...).

But here's the thing. This is how stupid Apollo is as a villain. Hebe has the least to gain from Zeus' poisoning and death. Look at the list of children that could stand to benefit from Zeus' demise:

An angry War god who was banished to the mortal realm for years by Zeus for pissing him off. Additionally, Zeus slept with his then-romantic partner and was implied to sleep with her often

The estranged daughter who literally thrives on chaos and is basically the goddess of "it's getting a little too chummy around here" who has beef with not only Zeus, but also Hera

A newly revealed son who has a tendency to heavily push boundaries and can't take no for an answer. This son additionally has been making moves to gain power politically

Compare this to Hebe, who we have only seen being kind to Zeus. No where in the comic is she seen harboring any kind of resentment towards him. Even when she criticizes him, it is gentle and she doesn’t push any further when he lays down the law.

Not only that but the whole prophecy- the usurp of power prophecy that Uranus got about Kronos, and Kronos got about his children, and so on- only applies to the sons of the tyrant in question. That was established in the myths, both in the Theogony and the Metamorphosis via a prophecy that usually came from Gaia. So that immediately takes Eris off the suspect list by virtue of the fact that she is a goddess. But even then, Hebe still shouldn't be a suspect.

How is Rachel expecting people to fall for this? Even her audience in some respect is calling out Apollo for being "back on his bullshit". Yet I can almost guarantee that everyone is going to fall for it because the only 2 gods who actually know are trapped in jail, Cassandra is probably going to disappear from the narrative for a while, and the rest of the general cast of characters only shares 2 brain cells between the lot of them. I can't wait to see this drag out over the course of, like, 15 episodes.

The most selfish thing

I just… wow. I have no words. Except yes I do or otherwise I wouldn’t be making this post. So we transition to the second half of the chapter where Persephone talks about her nonexistent connection with the snow and how maybe, just maybe, this is all her. Just like her act of wrath and what she did to Minthe, she has no one to blame but herself. And then she straight up goes “nah”.

I will be the first to admit, the way Rachel wrote Demeter during Persephone's homecoming/proposal was horrific. Demeter behaved horribly to Persephone. Now, I more blame Rachel for poor writing because if you have to make side characters look worse so your protagonists can look better, you suck at writing. BUT that does not excuse Demeter's initial actions and behavior toward Persephone.

However, in this situation, Demeter is not putting Persephone down for what she’s done. Obviously, Demeter is distressed, but she basically says “You tried, but now it’s time for the adults to handle it” and Hades agrees. He fucking agrees.

Demeter is far more capable and mature than Persephone due to being around for thousands of years. Demeter has had experience, she’s worked hard at maintaining everything, and she has even had hardships and failures. But because of this, she is a very very powerful goddess. Thus it makes the most sense for Demeter to step in to handle this situation. It is what's best for everyone, most of all for the mortal realm, which has been immediately affected.

But because Persephone has been told over and over that she’s hot shit, she's special (and has been treated as such), her ego can’t take the blow. She can’t take the L. She makes everything worse because she can’t stand the idea that she’s not special and that she's not this big bad goddess who has control over her abilities.

To me, this is so selfish. Persephone acknowledges that everything is dead. She acknowledges that she is the cause of this destruction. Yet she knowingly makes it worse because her ego can not handle the fact that she isn’t miss fucking perfect. This is the epitome of a child’s temper tantrum- like how when Nemo swims out to sea to touch the boat after Marlin tells him he can't do it. Because that’s what Persephone is. A child. In this case, it does not matter that she’s the age of an adult mortal woman. She is a god. She hasn’t even been around for 100 years. She still doesn’t have a handle on her powers. Persephone is being immature and selfish by stomping her feet and going “No, I can do it." Because of that, she makes everything so much worse.

Hades naturally makes this worse by enabling her. Although I genuinely can’t say I’m surprised since Hades has a history (especially post-marriage) of enabling Persephone’s bad behavior (like rewarding Persephone with sex after destroying the apartment of Leuce and threatening to kill her). When asked rightfully by Demeter if he’s going to do anything to try and talk her off the wall since Persephone has a history of not listening to anything Demeter has to say, Hades basically goes “Nah, my hands are tied, nothing I can do”, Despite the fact that he saw the destruction she caused and ACKNOWLEDGED IT WAS TIME FOR THE ACTUAL ADULTS TO STEP IN. This could’ve been a great moment for someone who wasn’t portrayed as a force against H&P (like the main love interest/husband) to hold her accountable. To say “That’s enough”. But nooooooo. No one, not even her own husband, is allowed to get in Persephone’s way.

Thus, Persephone continues to cause mass destruction and death until she passes out (this is important to note) and Demeter rightfully loses her damn shit.

Final thoughts

This is, I think, the worst chapter of Lore Olympus. Genuinely. As I stated in my last post, I had no idea where Rachel was going to take the whole “Persephone causes winter” idea and that there was no way she could make it more feminist than the original hymn. And boy was I right. Because I guess nothing is more feminist to Rachel than an ego-fueled power trip that results in the death of life in the mortal realm and also probably a good portion of the mortals who probably aren’t built to handle this kind of weather (by Persephone’s own admission that the mortal realm doesn’t get cold).

I'd also like to end on this note: if you're going to be a writer or artist or comic writer, don't treat your audience like they're fucking stupid.

Remember that little note I made about how it's important to remember that Persephone passes out? Yeah, well, that's because Persephone is actually unconscious and not dead. In literature and media today, people often use some version of the phrase "you've killed [x]" as a way to say not that whatever [x] is, is actually dead, but that it died in a metaphorical sense. You see a great example of this in the season finale of Arcane with Jinx. Powder doesn't actually die; Jinx is still very much alive. But Jinx metaphorically obliterated Powder to make room for the new her. The new Jinx, unburdened by her old self.

And that's what Demeter is saying. Hell, Hades even said that Persephone wasn't dead after presumably checking her vitals. Anyone who read the chapter would recognize this. But I guess Rachel thinks her audience doesn't have more than a 4th-grade level of reading comprehension because why else would she put in this, frankly demeaning, message at the end.

Oh boy. Welp. See y'all in my next post.

[mutsky]

ok watching ep 4 finally running monologue

- tongrak being a good tipper to show how he both isnt stingy and can be quite generous but also spends money like its nothing

- the girls trying to seduce him mama i know damn well there are gay guys on that island lets use our brains

-mut looking like a kicked puppy :(((

-theyre both so sad

-as someone else pointed out mut is wearing shoes hes ready to go

-hes such a little shit for having a car but picking up rak on the bike

-who is the boss here?

-"i wont be coming back to the island again" yeah ok whatever you say buddy

-not the slow mo replayed kdrama arm grab

-oh tongraks dumbass is in love and he doesnt even know it bless his heart

-this cannot be the ferry that takes you back to the mainland

-this place is ridiculous

-THREE FLOORS FOR ONE PERSON WHO NEEDS ALL THAT

-this really is the episode of sad kicked puppy mut

-does tongrak looks like he eats to you mut? bc to me he looks like a guy who doesnt eat

-poor palm this has happened to him TWICE this season

-love sky (and i do)

-love storm too my lita babies

- love director is also here but wtv unless we actually cast a pathetic 38 year old divorcee for frost i dont want it!

-ok so he does bring up connorkhom again these guys have done this twice in the span of a couple months

-this is workplace sexual harrassment

-awww he loves watching them bicker cute

-oh to have an uber competent lesbian secretary

-my poor mut hes resigned to his fate looks so sad

-BAD BITCH ALERT

-a handshake ? yall were JUST discussing barebacking smh

-mook doesnt understand men queen

-daddy?

-transition and you too can get with tongrak

-mook needs new friends

-i need to know the layout of this house what is going on

-again whatever helps you sleep at night

-mind you they were sleeping on mahasamuts mattress on the floor like 3 days ago at tongraks behest now hes shutting mut out ... sister

-her bodys tea tho

-stupid excuse to hold a girls hand shes real

-is this prin?

-thats a lot of oil

-this episode everyone was sad and pathetic sans vivie she was having the time of her life

-whos the daddy now

-oh a lot of vimook next ep sign me up

-i was gonna say "rak is alone again in the credits but mut showed up 🥹"

[awigglycultist]

VHS Christmas Carols first watch thoughts!

Omg the opening number is such a bop

JAMES DOING THE GRIDDY OMG

I loved the "it's time... Pennies" lines

I love Janaya

Jim and Della are great

The songs are SO 80s sounding, it's so great, especially my hair/my watch, and they've all been great so far

OOOHH THE MOMENT WHERE SHE RUSHED DOWN THE STREET AND SELLS HER HAIR IS SO GOOD ALSO SCROOGE?

This song is WILD

"you're more beautiful than ever" AHHH AWW

DONT CRY NO

Omg Jim not wanting to say he gave the watch away yet and just wanting to be close to Della

AUGH

"because if just a thought can count why not just tell them how it was thought about" AHSHDKSKS

OMG JIM PUTTING THE WATCH CHAIN AROUND HER NECK LIKE A NECKLACE AND DELLA PUTTING A A COMB INTO HIS HAIR AHH

Omg Joey's, Lauren's and Brian's voices/accents in this

BRIAN MOUTHING "WHAT THE" AJSJDBSOS

Lauren's face when the match girls tries to get her to buy a match lmao

Btw the lighting in this show is beautiful

Poor little match girl just someone buy a match!

Scrooge again??

Oh boy here come the magi again

Matchstick Magic is so good

Oh boy the grandma this is where things start getting sad

Yup she's dead now

Oh Clark talking about turning a blind eye to ppl oh boy oh jeez

OMG WAIT THIS SONG TRANSITIONING TO HOW THE NEXT STORY IS ABOUT SCROOGE AND HOW HE LEARNS THAT LESSON

Omg Scrooge blowing the candle out

IT'S TIME

"and he really hates YOU" scared me jdjdjd

Love how they're like actually cowering in fear of him

I enjoying AJ's take of Scrooge and Brian's take of Fred

Bob giving a wave during "here's my man Bob Cratchit"

Scrooge standing on the set above Bob is a great little detail to make him scarier

Oh the way aj sings "theres something I need to sayyyy! Bah humbug! BAH HUMBUG!" scratches my brain

"Scrooge gives a shriek" "AH" JASKAKSISN

I love hurt how confused and scared looking Scrooge is

Ugh marelt forcing Scrooge to sit back down and turn is SO GOOD

AJ'S REACTION TO THE 3 GHOSTS

The ghosts wrapping him in chain omg omg

Oh woah new part to this interlude song

Jaime's voice here omg

Scrooge doing the jump rope too sjdbdb

The slow mo dancing shdhdb

Love Curt's young Scrooge he's such a nerd (I know in about to hate him)

Wait the reverse, pause and fast forward symbols each lighting up depending on if they're in the past, present or future

Ugh That Scrooge is so good

Omg the way Scrooge looks so sad when looking at Belle and then him getting up into young Scrooge's face when yelling at him

Omg the way he gets so quite on "you don't know what you've lost"

I know he's jdut on the floor bc he's in bed but at first it just looks likes he's contemplating life sjfbfjd

XMAS NOW OUR BOY

"maybe you're a greedy dick" "that one" djdjdn

Present PUSHING Scrooge and then making him dance!!

Go off Scrooge! Dance!!

Scrooge and Present dancing together is so fun!!

Plz the little dance in the interlude after Christmas Electricity ndndjdnd

Scrooge copying Present's dance lol

NOT THE HAND HELD MICS LIKE IT'S KARAOKE IT'S REMINDING ME THE ORGINAL AVHSCC DURING 2020

The way Curt shrugs after "Peter!"

THE WAY TIM SEEMS JUST LIMP PRETTY MUCH WITH THE WAY BOB AND THE KIDS ARE CARRYING HIM AROUND

Brian using the care bear as a mic lol

The way James says "harassed" and AJ says "nooo spirit" and James says "BAH HUMBUG" scratches my brain so much!!

OMG BRIAN ACTUALLY HAS BUTTON UP INSTEAD OF JUST THE TINY TIM RACECAR SHIRT

JIM AND DELLA ARE THE ONE IN DEBT OF SCROOGE

I love just how happy they are, they're HYPED

The way AJ says "tenderness" also scratches the brain

AUGH BOB HOLDING THE CAREBEAR THIS PART ALWAYS SAD BUT OUCH

THE WAY SCROOGE GOES UP EVERYONE TRYING TO SAY HE'S CHANGED!!!

Ugh the DESPERATENESS AJ protays!

GET HIS ASS DRAG HIM DOWN INTO THE GRAVE

THE MATCH GIRL THE MATCH GIRL OH MY GODDDDDDD AND HIS LITTLE DANCE WITH HER AND HE'S BUYING A MATCH OMG OH OH THIS IS GETTING TO ME

"SO HAPPY TO HAVE MET YOU" I love how intense Scrooge is

OMG JIM AND DELLA ARE BEIGN FORGIVEN OF THEIR DEBT

THE WATCH HOLY FUCK

SJDJDJDBAJ the glasses dropping onto the ground and AJ trying to find them

GOD THAT WAS SO GOOD!!!!!!!

[orchidyoonkook]

personal

Hi, need to scream. Tumblr seems to listen best. can and please feel free to ignore.

okay so essentially my job has removed all of the things I use and need in order to be able to do my job with my mental disorder. my mental DISABILTY. that i was honest with them and told them about at my freaking trial shift. that i told them i needed certain things in order to do well. nothing drastic. but things that helped me significantly with my performace.

SOOOOOOOOO i am now severely struggling at my job because they've taken those away cuz they were 'annoying' or 'in the way' or 'clutter'. like. im not even leaving shit every where. It's like, maybe at most 3 sticky notes? (for example) and they're written just for me, like just so i can have a list of things i can do and know to go back and look on when i need a task because ive finished the one i was doing. but then my boss reads them and critiques them as if they're for everyone. or says 'okay yeah but we do that every day so i dont see why you have to write it down. you should know to do it by now' LIKE BRO. I forget to put deodorant on some days because of said mental disability. it's something i do and have done every day since i was 12 or 13. thats 12 years. and i still forget some days just cuz my brain wasn't working properly.

AND now due to this they have put me, one of the staff currently with more seniority than 3 other staff, down to one shift a week, while every one else is full time or heavily part time.

In march i was full time and kicking ass, I was the fastest employee on my tasks, i was doing great, the customers loved me and now that all of my things that i need in order to function have been removed for everyone else's aesthetic preferences, I'm suffering, and most likely being silently fired.

like... what do i do with that. I can do my job, with my accomadations - that arent that many btw - i dont expect them to move mountains for me. But dude. I hate this feeling so much because i'm capable, theyve seen me be capable. i was for 1.5 years. like i want to be good at my job. I like and enjoy being good at my job. i've told them that. I want to do good but my ability to be good is being derailed, and i just get told to try harder, just work harder, impress your boss with how hard you work -> for minimum wage, i might add.

and everyone is like "just get a new job, just apply for more jobs you're not applying for enough, literally just apply for everything, even if youre not qualified" and i cant just do that, due to said disability. there are jobs i am unable to do. so i have to be a lil picky otherwise i'll be right back where i am now. and ive been looking for months and applying for months with no luck - no one ever responds. why list jobs if you dont respond?????

it's getting to the point where im debating opening up drawing commissions or writing commissions, or something that i can make to earn a little extra cash here and there while i get over this transition period. And that's a big deal for me because i don't do commissions. I do my art for myself or for when i want to share something i've made already, like the UTWT books. Hell, I did a tattoo design for a friend on here that i put easily 40 hours into, and i felt guilty that they wanted to pay me for it because i'd asked them for the idea. Like, i don't do commissions. so for me to be considering it is really telling for me.

anyways. this is a bajillion words long now, but i already feel better. and I'm posting it in the middle of the night in hopes that the void just consumes it and never lets it see the light of day.

If you read this, thanks and sorry for the bummer of a post. This isnt a pity party or a poor yoon thing. I'm not looking for comfort or any of that. this is a 'i don't have a therapist and my friends and partner and family are sick of hearing me bitch, when i havent been able to fix it in months despite trying my best too' thing. so yeah..

i hope the new year brings me something good.

[fishhamlive]

my brain is absolutely fried rn and I'm tired of people on other socials getting pissed when I point out how flawed our country is so here is my sacrifice to the void of tumblr

I'm really really really fucking hate how car-centric North America is and I get genuinely jealous when I see places in Europe where you can walk everywhere.

Why is it a 17-minute walk to my nearest convenience store? or a 20-minute walk to my nearest grocery store?

Both me and my partner are disabled and can't walk long distances, I'm so lucky (and grateful) to have a vehicle.

I have to drive to get to a decent playground, to any green space, even the provincial park IN MY CITY has to be driven to.

The people that don't have cars get called poor and get told to "Just take the bus," and even though my city apparently has one of the best transit systems in Canada, it's very unreliable, the bus stops are in the most inconvenient places and they're SO FAR from internal areas of communities. And in my case (and for a lot of disabled folk my age), I get berated for sitting in the accessibility seats because I'm "too young" and "don't look disabled" I can't stand for an hour long bus ride. I can't use what little strength my legs have to make sure I don't fall when the bus turns or starts moving or stops, because if I do? I will not have the energy to walk the anywhere between 5 and 25 minutes to my destination.

And I HATE when people will bitch and complain about why kids "aren't out playing more" it's like, you built this city to worship cars. You made it difficult for kids to go out and play and when the kids DO go out and play you bitch and complain more about how "this neighbourhood used to be quiet and peaceful" ?? Malls all around me are starting to BAN kids under 16 without an adult present. When I was 14, 15, 16 and wanted to hang out with friends, we would essentially get bullied off of playgrounds by other kids' parents because we were "too big for that." So, we'd go walk around the malls, but now, they're just saying, "NOPE, you can't do that anymore because we don't like to have safe public places for teens to be teens!" and it's sooooo fucking frustrating.

[musicalsiphonophore]

siph listens to the sex was good until it wasn’t: my initial responses

me waiting until 11.40 to listen to a xana album? fret not, it’s not voluntary, i just needed to not be overexcited before my biology exam!

Lip Service: the opening had me worried for a moment, but HOOOLY SHIT THE SECOND HALF. I must listen to this one more time, I can’t help myself. I DONT KNOW WHO YOURE TRYINNGGGGGG TO BEEEEEE AHAHAHHAHAHAH IM ALMOST IN TEARS THIS IS SO GOOD

the sex was good!: i don’t like the instrumentals but her voice is- oh nvm i do like the instrumentals. oh nvm i don’t. this is beautiful in any case. HEY WAIT SHE POSTED THIS ON INSTAGRAM!!! I love the chorus!!! and the finale again!!!! xana knows how to end a song omg

Better Kind Of Best Friend: fucking magnificent as we know. loves me and she shows it fucks me and reloads it hell yeahhhhhhh 🎵 it was so iconic of her to release this single on valentine’s day btw

Homewrecking Era: THAT FUCKING TRANSITION WAS SO CLEAN. oh my god. I love this song. I love this song. Let me live inside this song please let me live inside the bit that goes “right bout now i wonder if she knows” i want to live in that part of music please

monster: i dont love it. i know i dont love it. it makes an excellent contrast next to home wrecking era though, it sounds better in context yk. a few lyrics on it are really… oof!! (shoot my meanest words like arrows, i make damn sure they echo)

Sick Joke: fucking yes. fucking yes. yes. “I only miss it a little and I don’t wish you very well, you only loved me in riddles but you still loved me I could tell”, the instrumentals in that part are lovely. i love the instrumentals in all of it actually.

15: this is so upsetting. my goodness me. it’s so sad. oh my goodness. “still smiled at my mother, what she don’t know won’t hurt her” oh my goodness poor small xana :(. the way she sings “i cant live like this forever”. ohhhh.

Lavender Daughter: ooooh this openin is a great start. oooooh this song is sad too. oh no. i’m so sad ddddddddd helppppp. this album is so sad. help. “FUCK YOUR REMORSE HOPE IT ONLY GETS BIGGER” 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

FERAL: hmmm hmmm excellent start! oooohghhhhh “maybe” that scratches my brain. i love this. i love this. i looooove this song it’s SO GOOD. aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAA. oooooh the bridge. i love the bridge. i want to eat the bridge.

BODY: so upbeat! uncharacteristically upbeat!! I like it!! Well, do I? I don’t like it massively, but I do like it. Okay, no, I don’t really like it. I see the appeal, maybe it’ll be better when I relisten it a few times. I like the guitars.

The Kicker: this is decent. eh. i again don’t like it all that much. I like the line “there’s a lake at the bottom of our river”. I’m not sure what it means but it speaks to me somehow. I quite like the ending of it I guess.

earth eyes: I like that this is something different. It’s only an interlude really. It is very good.

Alibi: pretty guitar opening. I have been expecting it to build up and it has not done that. I think I’ll appreciate this more on relistenings as well. It is pretty like a glass ornament is pretty, and reminds me somewhat of the blue room interlude which I adore.

4ever: awful start. this verse has no melody to it. Not A Fan. Oh never mind I do love this chorus!!! This chorus is lovely!!! Ooooh this second verse is a lot better too!! Okay, I can do this song. It’s not my favourite by any means but I accept it.

January: starts bad and thinly textured and boring, but as it builds up I’m starting to enjoy it a lot. By like 2:20 I’m enjoying it. Oh no it texture-thinned again. Alas. I feel about this one the way I feel about 19; too long, and it’s at the end of the album anyway so I almost want to not bother with it. Sorryyyy. I like the very ending though.

In Conclusion.

my favs are Lip Service, Homewrecking Era, 15, Better Kind Of Best Friend.

This album is the most emotionally destructive and personal creation, it is quite devastating. Especially 15 and Lavender Daughter.

A lot of the songs start very slow so I think I don’t like them, then they build up to a beautiful climax and fade out with just xana singing the same line repeatedly, alone, heartwrenchingly emotionally - I don’t like that lack of variety, I want more different structures and interludes and neat transitions going on. Especially since I’m not a fan of the slow fade in.

I also wish babyblue made it on, though I understand it doesn’t fit the vibes or the themes, as it is one of my favourite xana songs.

It started really strong for me, but after 15 or so, it got … not so strong.

[ask-hannah-blog]

Hey.... "Pretzel" again.

I'm gonna be honest this might be kinda TMI but I need to get this out of my chest real bad so here goes.

After that incident at the store, I've been trying really hard to just move on and forget about it. Still though to do that I knew I should delete whatever weird ass "Toe Cleavage" photos I took of this random woman's feet. The problem is, as soon as I open my phone gallery and see the photos I get so fucking embarrassed! I get red-faced from how ashamed I am and then, of course, the fucking clown brain gets me horny!!!

Then a huge fart comes out of my titanic tush and I instantly pop a boner!

FUCKKKK!!!! Ugh, so there I am rubbing myself up and down and eventually I can't take it and I just whip it out. I'm gonna be honest for the past few days I've been kinda neglecting to look after my dick and I think the poor thing was a little antsy to get some action again. So I got no choice but to alleviate my... "tension". I get to it and that's when I finally notice it. I take care of myself so I never really had a particularly smelly penis, but then the thing just hits me with its full-on musk and that's when I realize something else: my dick smells like a hot wiener. Joy.

I can't say I particularly cared at the moment though since I was busy coating my phone's screen with a gallon of cum. I dunno if it was the Estrogen, the clown flu, or me just not spanking it for a while but I was GUSHING.

So obviously once I was done I got to work wiping it all off, especially off my phone. Then a naughty idea struck me:

"what if you just licked it off your phone?"

Despite recognizing the foreign thought, I was still horny so I mentally shrug and go along with it.

Guess what? My jizz tastes like mayonnaise. Good mayo too. So when I'm done lapping that up and I'm nice and satisfied I sit there in my post-nut clarity with one extra craving in my mind: "I could use my own cum as dressing on the stuff I eat." That thought alone makes me feel all loopy and happy and giggly.

So yeah, it was a bit of a crazy evening for me. Have I mentioned how freaking weird clowns are? Cuz my God are we extra with the weirdness sometimes.

The gas is here to stay btw, so screw me I guess! Pretzel out. Have a great day Hannah. Hope I didn't get you too worked up with this.

Pretzel! 🥨

You’re getting so savory with your musky weinie and mayo cum! Hyuck! Or should I say Hyum! Hehe.

It’s always a pleasure to hear from you it sounds like you gave your stuffies quite the show! Next time you should get them in on the show, and put the in the splash zone! Maybe they’ll grow their own little stuffy dildos and fleshlights! Then they can join in on your act.

I think maybe the flu isn’t planning on helping you transition after all. I’m just saying that because generally TFs don’t change things they plan on getting rid of. So if you’re getting a hot dog musk and increasing mayo production, I think the transformation has BIG things in mind. Strange that it’s happening if you’re still on estrogen but I’m beyond trying to understand this mess.

Hehe it really must have some really hot toe cleavage if it’s enough to make you dumb and forget what you’re doing. I almost want to see it! Hehe.

Hmmm if looking at it is distracting you, how are we gonna delete it I wonder…hmmm. I’m open to tips from the audience at that one. My suggestion is to throw that phone into the cornfield and run! But not everyone breaks phones as often as me!

Hehe I’m thinking about your friend on the phone. I wonder if she can sense the crazed half-clown jerking off to her

HOT

TOE

CLEAVAGE

Hehe hyuck I wonder what she’d think. I bet she’d be freaked out, knowing her feet are getting drenched in gallons ofclown cummies every time you look at them!

Ugh it makes me so sad everyone in your little town thinks you’re a freak! I wish I could just bring you home and let you sleep on the couch.

I wish you had a friend over there, or at least a clowny little servant like my Daisy.

Hmmm…

If I did have any psychic clowny powers, I’d send all my vibes towards the lady in that picture. I’d bombard her with clowny waves, so that next time you see her in line she’ll be buying pretzels, hotdogs and Mayonnaise because she’s just been having the STRANGEST cravings! Then you’d know she’s ripe for plucking! Hyuck!

Hehe ha…

But yeah, that foot bomb is crazy with how hard it hits, I felt like I was going crazy at first. But having been though it I do understand what the clowns were telling me when they said it was inevitable I should just accept it, because being in denial of it, it just felt like it was growing and growing inside of me until I popped and became a foot fiend or something. But now I’m just like “Oh I just have a foot fetish, I can manage this.” At least so far, I know some people never get over that it and just become mindless feet fappers.

I guess what I’m saying is i recommend you accepting the hot toe clevage and seeking out material other than that poor woman’s foot so you can develop the fetish at your own pace and not exploding like I did. Just worried if your only exposure to it is an illicit picture you took of a woman without her knowing that behavior might get hardwired in. Don’t want you becoming some creepy stocker clown following ladies around with a camera for the perfect shot of their feet to add to your cum drenched photo wall.

Boy I have a lot to say, I just like keeping up with you Pretzel!

Okay last thing.

I love you just ripping ass before going to town on yourself. That’s just full on hedonism, pig stuff. Just announcing to the world “hey I’m here to fuck! Lol. You know, so long as you’re not just huffing your own gas while shaking hands with the mayor I think it’s fine. It’s a normal bodily function, so being a little gassy is nothing to be embarrassed of.

Until next time Pretzel! We’re all rooting for you. Hehe we’re all tooting for you! 😂

Ms Hannah!

[mpregstoriesetc]

Skinny to muscle dipping

Skinny Dipping gone wrong hahaha~ , Our poor friend drops by a secluded beach for a bit of a dip, little does he know a rather perverse slime is lurking in the water, Our poor guy doesn't even notice the slime covering his rather skinny but lean body, The slime noticing how this vessel would not suffice, decides that it can work with what its given, it then proceeds to pump itself down the poor guy, filling him his body up, making his throat expand with a bulge, the slime starts to expand and make its way around the struggling guys body, The guy starts to feel his muscles start to burn and feel sore, as if he was working out, he watches in shock as his biceps start expanding and taking shape as he can see remnants of the slime's ooze in his nerve still pumping through out his body. He can feel the slime moving around in him, working and expanding his body, filling his muscles up and toning them to shape, His pecs start to wobble and take shape, his abs start to wiggle in to form, as the slime continues to fill him up, but the slime has underestimated the size of our beach goer, feeling full to the brim the guy can't help but feel bloated and could only groan helplessly, The slime feeling very mischievous, continues to pump itself in to the guy, the guy feels his body tighten and panic sets into his face, As the slime still forcefully enters, forcing himself in further and further as the guy's muscles start to get bigger and bigger, the slime expanding into the guy filling him up to his legs, forcing his leg muscles to expand and contract, he's calves now expanded and toned to shape, as the slime continues, it starts spreading to his groin, it fills up the guys member expanding its length and girth, making it appear fully erected, as a bit of slime oozes out and slurps back in from his urethra. all the while he's balls where being churned with slime to expand it fully, The slime still wiggling around inside this guys body finally finishes up by slowly making its way up the head, as the guy is still processing what has happened to his body, he tries to move but fails, he starts hearing a voice inside his head, "your welcome" the slime says, The guy in a panic struggles to move, he see's his right arm start to flex, the bicep contracting and bulging to the max. "Now this is a lot better, the guy in a panic struggle again in vain, as the right hand, reaches down to grab his full member, " This is a bonus for me too hahaha " the voice echoed through the guys head, He squeezes the member as slime gushes out of the tip but slides back in immediately, " Ahaha guess I couldn't fit all of me in here", The voice says as it appears to be getting closer, The Guy's vision starts to get blurred as the voice explains to him, " well kid Imma borrow your body for now, consider it payment for how buff you got" as the slime envelops the brain and fills out the remaining portion, the guy blacks out, as his body smirks and rises up flexing, " this body will do for now " the guy muttered, breaking the silence in the secluded beach, ( Huehuehue What do ya think?, I wanted to try out some muscle growth slime possession, and I think it kinda turned out alright, minus the muscle growth cause i can't draw transitions for my life, but hopefully with enough practice I'll get there~ )

© 2020 - 2023 HostileTakeover69

[froshele]

it's especially worrying when someone is a trans woman and their formative, intimate exposure to how to be a woman, for reasons of their personal safety, is fully online. i have a friend whose reaction to a traumatic religious upbringing was to try to become this sort of woman she heard about on the internet, who never has any sort of problems, a gender transition goal she thought was both normal for her to want and possible for her to achieve.

It is genuine hell on our friendship. the behaviours and heel-digging opinions the doing girl math rolling girl joints comment industrial complex has wrought on this poor girl are extremely annoying even to me, who super gets it; in real life nobody wants to be around her, and from a purely loving and emotionally intimate place in my heart I completely get why. but she isn't ready to hear it. hearing it would require her to confront why the idea of being less than fully human so deeply appeals to her.

she's parroting an anime girl concept of gender performance as shown to her through weird incel readings of the literal text of the torah, 4chan, and quirky little blogs about coquette fashion, and the resulting soup of an entity is a thermonuclear hazard to my sanity. i have ceased to talk theology with her. we discuss strictly the sacred realm of numbers, and in my soul i am afraid.

not only does she fully believe the endgame of making it as a woman entails laying around and doodling girl equations in a journal with gel pens all day, but she also snapped at me for trying to teach her "scary things", such as "if you need to go anywhere alone at night or in a dangerous area, you have to walk with purpose and keep your back straight". "It's too complicated, I just want to be a cute girl people like". That's it! That's how! Cute girls people like carry keys in their fist in public! That's not up for any sort of quasi Shapiroan contention, it's just literally true!

this kind of hashtag funny hashtag girlposting gives young isolated trans women atomic brain rot that makes them completely insufferable, because they have few to no real counterbalances to this specific anodyne, objectifying, you-can-just-give-up-completely-and-people-will-love-you-for-being-decorative lie about how easy breezy beautiful it can be, inhabiting that gender. and then they actually do it and the euphoria is real and all of that, the chromosome stuff starts mathing, but their loved ones get to watch the social shit crash their mental OS in real time.

i love this person and i have to watch her deteriorate as she gets out more, as she's more and more exposed to evidence that being a woman is still being a human, with difficulties and challenges in life. she will grow into it eventually, but the process of that socialization doesn't need to be as traumatic and abrupt as it is.

and this isn't just a trans girl issue, it affects young teen cis girls in much the same gender-forming way -- think of all the years of serious, committed study in passionately beloved intellectual fields that everyone collectively is losing to petgirl girlmath coquette brainrot, and things get a little scary.

women are people. there is no gender you can perform to opt out of being people, with people things to do and people interests and the people intellectual urge to be treated like an adult. some people are good at crunching numbers and some people are bad; some people are eloquent and some people are awkward. they are all people. all people barring those with certain highly specific disabilities can learn to freehand a straight line, balance an equation, change a diaper, have an emotionally honest conversation, make a budget, make investment decisions and count their own fucking money!!! "Ooh but girls do it while being pink and cute and quirky and" Oh my Gd ENOUGH. enough already. Let the people be as pink and cute and quirky as they want without dragging bio- and gender-essentialism into it! Let those same people pioneer new frontiers in astrophysics! Treat them as the humans they are!

saw someone refer to not knowing how to keep track of your money as "girl math" ......why are we in this weird era of treating women like idiots but repackaging it to sound cute and quirky. We All Need To Stop

[loregoddess]

Hm, maybe my memory is poor but I swear that I've seen you reblog Tolkien stuff (or maybe I'm mistaking it and it's all Legend of Zelda posts?)

But there I was talking as if you'd read the books or watched the movies!

I watched the movies so long ago that I forgot a great deal of them and I'm determined to finish the books before I re-watch them so that I can experience the whole original story of LotR without the film giving away the parts I'm still reading.

You'll find out more about Boromir in the first book and the very beginning of the second book. As for Denethor, he appears in the first chapter of the third book (and he had me just a little bit salty, to put it mildly.) You'll also see the Fellowship in all three books!

I'll be honest and say the only reason I have time to read at all is downtime at work and really long wait times for public transit. And I've only just recently began branching out from reading only Discworld to other books that I either read in high school or heard about but didn't get a chance to read yet. I'm keeping track of my reading on an app called StoryGraph, which lets you record start and finish dates and get recommendations based on what you've already read!

I mostly just use it as a reading diary of sorts. But if I ever get through my to-read pile (good luck, it's long) I might see what it recommends me. But even still, I usually go by friends and family's suggestions for any books that I might be interested in.

Haha, no you're right, I have reblogged LotR stuff. I have basically no fear of spoilers, if only bc I have been spoiled on stuff in the past only to not realize it was a spoiler and still get surprised when I reach it in the story anyhow (and also I think the weird culture of "no spoilers" is silly anyhow, bc like, sometimes the fastest way to convince me to look into something is to show me major spoilers that baffle me so much I need to figure out how a story could function to accommodate what I know out of context with the new knowledge).

But no worries, I totally get where the confusion came from. I know just enough LotR from osmosis that I can kinda hold a conversation about it. Your excitement for the stories does get me excited as well, and I really am looking forward to reading them when I can make the time.

Also I feel you on having free time to read things. I think that's part of my issue, is a lack of free time (or energy), but at some point I also developed this weird environmental thing where I couldn't focus on reading if I could hear human voices or if there was too much background noise of a certain type? Which, given that I still live with my family and they are all very noisy (and also assume that they can just start talking to me whenever if I'm sitting in plain sight, which is more or less everywhere where I like to sit to read), makes it hard to actually find the sort of quiet I need to read when I do have the energy for reading.

I used to be a voracious reader too, I was basically always reading a book from middle school through high school, sometimes multiple books. And I used to be able to read in the middle of a school's worth of noise, so I have no idea why all the academic reading I had to do in college messed with my reading habits so much. It's not that I haven't read anything--I made it through Dracula all on my own a year before Dracula Daily happened, just because I was interested in it and wanted to read more classics. And I've made my way through about a third of the complete works of Lovecraft, which are easier for me bc they're all short stories more or less (though I keep stalling reading the next story bc I know it's one of the "almost a novella" length stories). And of course, The Hobbit.

A lot of my free time is limited though, especially since I'm very particular about how things need to be if I'm to do something (which is partly the house situation, partly my brain is my own worst enemy sometimes). I often have to choose between art, video games, writing, general decompressing (i.e. interwebs), or watching something, and usually video games or art/writing win out if I don't need to decompress, because I can deal with being interrupted or ignoring outside noise when playing a game better than I can reading, and no one bugs me when I'm working at my computer generally.

Which hmmm. Actually, I think that might actually have more to do with it than anything, because now that I'm thinking on it I have read a metric ton of manga over the past several years, which I usually use various websites for (and am therefore at my computer). Granted, that's a slightly different storytelling medium than a text-based book, but considering I can finish a completed manga series in roughly a two-week span, I don't think my issue is with focusing on reading so much as it is getting interrupted or having too much background noise...hmmm.....

Well this was an excellent conversation actually, I think I might have figured out part of the reason my brain wants to strike when I do try to read, and if I can get to the root then I can maybe figure out some sort of workaround to trick myself back into reading text-based books again. Which is great, because I have so many books in my to-read pile, and I do want to check out the Discworld books at some point (which I've never read, but they are also books that I just know from out-of-context things that I will love), and I really do miss reading as a leisure activity. So, thank you for prompting this discussion!

[krembruleed]

alright, the other day i loosely implied that i would make a behind the scenes/tutorial type of thing. momma didn't raise no liar, so here goes nothing i guess!

step 1) rough sketch

honestly i skip this entirely if have a really concrete idea of what i want to do. sometimes compositions are just beamed into my brain from On High and a sketch is unnecessary.

step 2) 3d ref

this is where i refine the composition, lighting, camera angles, props, etc. i use DAZ studio for model posing and blender for almost everything else (props, horns, lighting, rendering).

here's a 10 minute video on how to pose models in DAZ if you're interested in doing something like this! it's not very hard! basic posing requires almost no technical know-how.

i've heard magicposer and virt-a-mate are also good for model posing, but i don't have any experience with either program.

after i'm done posing, i transfer the models to blender so i can work on props, environment, and lighting because doing it in DAZ is ass. you can see that i went overboard on the ref for the paladin i worked on last year by modelling armor.

step 3) lineart

at this stage i'm synthesizing my 3d models, reference images, and style choices into lines.

the 3d likeness of my models is poor because I don't have time for that shit, so this is where my humongous folder full of bg3 screenshots comes into play.

for example: looking at my screenshots, astarion's forehead tilts back towards the back of his skull, much more so than my reference model. his chin and jaw are sharper and longer, and the transition between his brow ridge and nose is almost a straight line. if i combine the information from my 3d model and astarion's face, i get something like this:

3d models aren't fleshy (ie, tummy rolls, wrinkles, muscle deformations, butt squish) unless one puts in A LOT of effort like absolute madman chris jones.

you guys know bernini, right? he has a couple great examples of this. see how hades' hands press in on persephone's leg?

this is what we want to add in the lineart because it's too much effort for 3d. laziness is king.

i guess i draw clothes at this stage too, but for some reason there aren't many in this image. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

step 4) base color

i have a little color picked palette that i use for everybody so i get their skintones right before i start messing with colored lighting. i'll use overlay and hard/soft light layers clipped to the base layer during the shading step later.

step 5) shading

if you thought we were done with the 3d part, guess again! i posterize my 3d reference so i can see the shapes of the shadows and highlights better. if i'm not feeling it, i can go back to 3d and change the lighting really easily.

could I make a cel shader for this? yes. am I going to? No. custom shaders are for people with intelligence and I am fresh out. posterization it is.

from there, i do a pretty standard cel shading deal that i usually blur and set to low opacity. (for this image i stuck to no blur because i had been looking at a lot of morebird's art and was really feeling the hard edges)

photoshop is what i use for final rendering because it has bangin tools. the brush customization alone make ps worth it, but i also particularly abuse puppet warp, noise generation, the camera raw filter, and layer styles.

step 6) background

i put the least effort possible into a background and then i blur it into oblivion so you can't fathom the depths of my ineptitude.

and then i have a finished image! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[vvatchword]

I fucking moved. Fuck that city in particular and fuck everybody in it except for the cool Bat Dude and the lady who gave me a ride so I didn't get rained on and the nice old grandpa who saw me staring into space at the hamburger joint (as one does).

Yes, I got into a stranger's car, but look. She was very nice and she reminded me of a dear friend, and I was so darkly miserable that the fact she asked was like a little ray of sunshine. Like look. Not everybody is fucking horrid, sometimes they're a nice librarian-looking lady in an SUV.

Oh, now I can't stop thinking of nice people. Let's face it: there were plenty of nice folks there. It's just that I'm not made for cities. There's what I thought I wanted and there's what I actually wanted.

I hate cities

I hate noise

I hate traffic

I hate rich people

I hate pollution (and so does my bird)

I hate the horrifying cost of living

I hate lights and need a real nighttime. If I can't see stars I begin to die. If your lights are so bright the moon disappears, you're too damn bright

I HATE public transit because...

I hate having to maneuver around homeless shenanigans. You know how many times I'd be genuinely terrified per month? Way too many times.

There were too many people everywhere I went. I would try to go shopping early to avoid rubbing shoulders and end up rubbing shoulders. There was just no easy way to avoid crowds.

Tamed nature. Do you know what I mean? Nature made as humans desire it, not nature existing outside of humankind. At the very least--nature that hasn't seen more than two separate human beings per month. I have learned a brand new appreciation for wastelands. I am not renewed by a park with a tree in it. I need to see land that doesn't need a sprinkler system.

I was constantly overwhelmed and I never got to do anything fun because I was too poor. Cool shit happens here, too, though. So I'm just going to try and go to something nice at least once per month. It's more expensive because you have to drive, but it's less expensive on the whole because half of my income isn't going to rent.

Moving was a nightmare. I basically packed up and left in a week. My dad contracted some friends from his church. They said they could help me pack if I wasn't done yet. Joke's on me: those guys didn't give a single fuck. They launched my belongings like we were Cape Canaveral. I thought I was going to die from the agony of seeing brain-dead rednecks bodyslam my books into boxes. I still haven't found parts of my stuff yet. Who knows where it's all gone. I'll find it eventually? I guess?

I proceeded to drive home in the dark and the rain, where I chugged energy drinks and longed for death. I stopped once to buy the best possible snacks I could find (Muddy Buddies, Dot's Pretzels, some donuts. My life is falling apart. I deserve nice things). My traveling partner was the sole surviving African Dwarf Frog (long story, but they started dying one by one, and she is the last).

Got home and weeks of abuse caught up to me. I proceeded to fall into a catatonic state for about two days. Caught up with myself today and finally set my PCs up. I have two; one is an old-school mid-tier gaming device from like. 2012. The other is my custom-built gaming PC from about three years ago. Anyway. I've been wanting to make them both dual-monitor machines but I had to do some troubleshooting, and I figured it out today.

I can't connect to ethernet because this house wasn't built with ethernet in mind. It's going to have to be WiFi. Ewwww. Oh well

Being home is a HUGE relief. My parents are ecstatic to have me. The DOG is ecstatic to have me. The bird is angry because I can just straight-up leave his sight now. The apartment may have been a hideous, dimly-lit hole, but it was a SMALL hideous, dimly-lit hole, and he knew where I was at all times. He has to hunt for me now and he hates it.

I can begin job-hunting again in earnest, as well as begin NaNoWriMo. I need to hit 5,000 words today. Wish me luck lol