#i might size down at some point and make just a blog where i just to do stimboards or something like that

[howtofightwrite]

Hi! Love your blog, it's such a brilliant resource, thanks so much for writing it.

So, I'm looking for more information on ways that someone would go about breaking someone else's neck. Long story short, it's for a murder mystery situation where I need the investigators to be able to look at the injury on the victims (in an autopsy context, not necessarily on casual examination) and go 'oh, that's a specific technique and it suggests our killer has military or similar how-to-kill-people combat training'. Any suggestions?

A shovel through the spine at the base of the skull?

So, the headlock neck break is basically a fantasy. The amount of force you'd need to actually shatter someone's neck in the way presented would be superhuman. (Which does mean there's probably examples as industrial accidents, but industrial accidents are a somewhat uncommon murder method. Mostly because they're not especially portable.)

Hilariously, there are multiple attempted murder cases, where the would-be killers tried to replicate that neck break, only succeeding in annoy their victims, and telegraphing their intention. So, someone were to try to snap someone's neck that way, it would be an excellent indicator that they had no training what so ever.

There are ways that someone can kill with a headlock, such as a blood choke, but nothing that's going to concretely point the finger at someone with a military background.

Similarly, stab wounds can be very informative about the killer. But all you'll really gather is how familiar they are with human anatomy, and how comfortable they are with cutting people-shaped meat. This won't help you distinguish between someone who's done this before, and someone who's done this before for their country. (Incidentally, “people-shaped meat,” isn't strictly a joke. There are lot of potential careers and backgrounds where you could become pretty comfortable cutting into animals, either live or recently deceased. So, in this specific case, that's more about the mindset. Someone uncomfortable with that level of physicality, is like to leave behind hesitation wounds. These are smaller cuts, sometimes in the main wound channel, indicating that they're not really comfortable with what they're doing.)

So far as it goes, I'm more a fan of just ramming a blade into an artery, rather than slitting their throat. The latter is a lot more work, but the former requires you actually know where to find someone's arteries quickly and efficiently. Which isn't necessarily a sure thing.

Even tool selection won't necessarily tell you much. Someone who's using a military knife might be ex-military, or they could be someone who uses surplussed equipment because it's cheap and relatively reliable. And that's assuming you can concretely identify the knife from the wounds it leaves. Which is also not especially reliable. You can tell how far the blade penetrated, and roughly how large it is, but that won't tell you if it was a bayonet or some cheap gas station hunting knife of a similar size.

Firearms present a similar problem. Once you can track down the gun (if there were any intact bullets to compare, which isn't a certainty), you might be able to match the gun to the wounds. But, examining the wounds on their own (especially if the bullets are gone, or buried deep in the corpse) will only give you an estimate of the bullet's size. Here's a problem with this, did you know that .38, .380, and .357 magnum are all 9mm rounds? They're different cartridges, but the bullets they spit out are very similarly sized. You might be able to make some educated guesses based on the wound channel and burns, but these all fire a round that's roughly the same size. So, when someone looks at a wound and definitively says it was a .38, they don't know that. (Unless they found the shell casing. But even then, you're not likely to find a .38 or .357mag shell casing unless the attacker specifically dropped their spent brass and reloaded, as those are revolver cartridges. .380 is a semi-auto round, so those will get kicked out after each shot. And, yes, before someone complains, there is .357 SIG, that's a semi-auto cartridge. It's 9x22mm.)

Also worth remembering, you can't, specifically match a shotgun's ballistics, assuming the shell was loaded with shot, and not slugs. You may be able to match the mechanical wear on the casing itself to a model (or multiple models in some cases), but not a specific gun.

So, how do you know it was someone with military training? You don't. Learning that someone's been trained to kill is a bit easier to pin down, but the information isn't that useful. That doesn't tell you if they're ex-military, ex-police, or even just the product of an extremely messed up homelife with a prepper parent. Or, even just they got extremely lucky (or unlucky) with a single stab.

Now, it isn't pointless to try to determine that, as it can be helpful later to demonstrate that the eventual suspect had the training to kill in the method that the victim experienced. But it doesn't do much to narrow the suspect pool on its own.

Ironically, the killer not having combat training. So, with things like defensive and hesitation wounds, can be far more useful for narrowing the suspect pool. As an investigator, when you're talking to someone that you're sure has been certified in knife combat, isn't likely to be especially messy with their stabbings. (Though, to be fair, even a trained knife fighter might stab their victim many times, to ensure a faster bleedout, and not all of those hits are going to be especially artful.)

So, that's a long way from, “you can't really break someone's neck like you see in the movies.” You can kill people, and as an investigator, you can make a lot of educated guesses based on what you find at the crime scene. But, “this method means they were militarily trained,” doesn't really mean they were trained by the military.

-Starke

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[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 5

chapter 4 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 6

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after what happened a couple of months ago, you are ready to move forward. joel? not so much. he might need a little... prodding.

warnings: 18+, mdni. internal and verbal discussions of feelings, trauma and past relationships. some jealousy (if you squint very hard). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). again, absolutely filthy smut because i don’t know any better (sorry not sorry). fluff. voyeurism (you spy on joel). masturbation (f and m). oral (f and m receiving). finger sucking. unprotected piv. praise kink. sir kink. size kink. cum eating. a bit of cum play. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. dirty talk. you are very needy in this one and joel is very possessive over you. soft!dom!joel. aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, honey). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

a/n: hiya! first i want to thank you all for the positive feedback this series has gotten! [: i started writing this for myself mainly, and decided to post it here thinking that if a couple of people liked it, it'd make my heart happy. also, i have taken some licenses with joel's past, as neither the game nor the tv show gives many details (you'll understand what i mean). anyways! after the last chapter, our two protagonists (you!) deserve a bit of calm, peace and quiet... right? 😈 as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests/side stories if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

w/c: ~6.3k (sorry?).

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

August came around relatively quickly. Tommy had proposed you got closer to civilisation, which meant long trekking trips while the sunlight was still up. Joel agreed reluctantly, as he still thought that was dangerous. You just went along with it, letting them decide ― you didn’t really care where you ended up as long as the Millers were by your side.

Well, one of them especially.

At daytime you barely had time to yourself. However, the story was completely different at nighttime. The second you closed your eyes, snippets of what had happened two months ago flooded your memory. For the first few weeks, the nightmares were unbearable. You would wake up in the dead of night, sweaty and shaking.

And every time you woke up, Joel was by your side. He would hug you while you both laid on improvised beds, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Neither of you would talk, you would just cry in silence while your panic attack subsided ― Joel holding you throughout the whole episode. He had truly been a rock you could hold onto in the middle of a sea storm.

It got to the point where Tommy had started to realise that something was up between you two. Neither you nor Joel denied nor confirmed anything, although Tommy never asked. He would just look away when his brother would attend to you if you fell behind or would offer to do the first night shifts so Joel could be by your side at bedtime.

You were somewhat sure that Joel really cared about you. The way he would look at you… it sent shivers down your spine. The intensity in his eyes was hypnotising ― sometimes you would find yourself lost in his brown orbs, unable to look away. You also really cared about him.

You didn’t want to put a label to your feelings, mainly because you were not sure how Joel would react. You had come to understand that the man was prone to evade any topic about his feelings in general ― physical, emotional or otherwise. You could still not get him to tell you whenever he felt off. Since the blow to his head a couple of months back, Joel had been suffering with horrible headaches, to the point where he had fainted in a couple of instances.

The man was such a closed book you found out about his deceased wife the same way you knew about Sarah ― through Tommy. You assumed he had one or at least a partner at some point in time before the outbreak. The younger brother didn’t give you many details though, not that you asked either ― some wounds were better left untouched.

You liked Tommy a lot. He was a godsend ― so very different to Joel, but so similar in many ways. He was talkative and filled in long silences with stories about how they would cause mayhem at home when they were kids. You didn’t know if they were true or not, but they were entertaining nonetheless. You were under the impression that Tommy was the one who got into sticky situations and Joel was the one who had to fix them.

“I’m gonna go to the lake for a bit”, Joel told you, derailing your train of thought.

“No worries, I’ll get the fire going. Poor Tommy is always the one setting up camp”, you replied with a slight smile.

“Yeah, poor me, relegated to such unsignificant tasks”, said Tommy with a chuckle.

You smiled back and then looked in Joel’s direction. He was frowning at both of you, but quickly controlled his face expression.

“I’ll be back soon”, Joel crouched to look through his backpack, grabbing a couple of towels.

Something inside of you twisted. But you pushed the thought to the back of your head. You had already volunteered to start the fire.

You really tried to focus on the bonfire. And after a few attempts, you finally got it going. Joel had not come back yet from the lake ― it had only been ten minutes, but you were slightly worried in case he had lost consciousness again while no one was around.

“I’ll go check on him”, you told Tommy.

He looked at you with a sarcastic smile.

“Sure thing”, he replied while he started to skin a rabbit.

You rolled your eyes before you left in the direction Joel had gone.

You walked the hundred metres that separated the camp and the lake. The brothers had ensured the area was completely devoid of human existence before they decided to settle there for the night. You were now in Mark Twain National Forest, near St. Louis. You had checked out Kansas City a week ago, but both Tommy and Joel had deemed it too unsafe. So Chicago was your final destination. None of you knew what you would encounter there, but it was worth a try. The wilderness had not proven to be any safer.

Before you got to the bank of the lake, you spotted Joel in the water. He had his back towards you, your eager eyes checking out his broad shoulders, the water level up to his hips. He ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back.

You stopped walking, somewhat mesmerised, your head slightly tilted to one side with curiosity. In the last two months, you had discovered a new side to Joel you didn’t know he had.

You guessed that what happened that night also affected him in a different way it did you. After he almost decapitated that man, you saw guilt in his eyes when he looked at you ― you still sometimes caught a glimpse of it to this day. As you found out later, that culpability was because he felt responsible for what those men did to you ― he really thought he could have done more. And he did in a sense, because for the next couple of days he hunted down every man in that group until there was no one left to hurt you. Apparently, that was not enough in his eyes, although it was in yours. But as much as you tried to explain that to him, it just wouldn’t sink in. He was so stubborn it made you go crazy sometimes.

Although Joel had been there for you emotionally, he had not touched you for the last two months. You managed to steal a few kisses from him and that was it. He had been extremely cautious with you in that respect. You were relieved he was as you tried to come to terms with what had happened, but after a few weeks it started to feel… frustrating. You were not broken and despite what he thought, you still had needs.

He suddenly looked over his right shoulder, offering you his side profile ― to you, he was gorgeous. Feeling like a child caught causing mischief, you quickly hid behind a tree. Joel looked around, eyebrows touching in confusion, but then he shook his head as if he was imagining things and proceeded to cup his hands in the water to wet his face.

You couldn’t not watch. You instantly realised that was the first time you saw him naked. The last ―and, regrettably, the only― time you two had sex, he was fully clothed. There was something very intimate about seeing him washing up.

You were so transfixed on the picture in front of you it was like the world had disappeared around you. Joel rubbed his skin with a hand towel ― his strong arms, his chest, his back, his lower stomach… Your breath quickened a bit, your heart picking up a pace. Everything about him invited you in ― it wasn’t only his rugged appearance that appealed to you, but also his character.

You started to feel hot. Had the temperature suddenly gone up? It seemed like it. Joel put the hand towel on his left shoulder. When you saw his right hand disappear below the water in front of him, your mouth went dry wishing it was your hand. You wanted to help him clean his manhood so badly ― memories of his delightful cock rocking you into a trance short-circuited your brain.

Before you could stop yourself, you placed one hand on your belly, biting your bottom lip. You finally gave in to temptation, pushing past the edge of your panties. You dipped two fingers in your slit, doing circular movements around your clit. Your eyes, albeit halfway closed in pleasure, could not leave Joel as he kept on freshening up. You pushed down your fingers a bit more, sliding one of them in your needy hole.

You closed your eyes, a half-smile showing on the corner of your lips. That felt so good. If Joel was going to do nothing about it ― fine, you would. Still behind the tree, out of sight, you held on to the bark with your free hand, upping the rhythm of your wet fingers, your thumb rubbing that tight knot in your fold. Then you slightly opened your eyes again ― you wanted to stare at Joel while you came.

But he wasn’t there anymore. You frowned, confused, but you were too busy to worry about that right now. So you closed your eyes again to fully focus on the task at hand. You leaned your forehead against the tree, feeling your orgasm wash over you with intensity. You pressed your lips, suppressing a moan as to not alert Joel of your presence.

“Am I interrupting?”, his soft voice forced you to glance in his direction with starry eyes.

He was on your righthand side, just half a metre away from you. Entirely naked in all his glory, an erection creeping up on him. You were speechless, partially because you had been caught spying on him and partially because you were still feeling the last remnants of your climax, your inner walls crying for something to choke.

“I―I…”, you really tried to excuse yourself, but your voice faltered when your eyes checked him out from top to bottom.

His body was chiselled, his muscles somewhat defined, especially around his waist. He had a pronounced V line with a hairy, happy trail which you avidly followed with your eyes until you were gifted with the sight of his veiny cock. You unconsciously licked your bottom lip.

Your fingers were still dunked in your warm pussy. Joel grabbed your wrist and took your hand out of your underwear, raising it to eye level. Your digits were sticky, covered in your own cum. You should feel ashamed, but you definitely didn’t. Not with him. Joel looked into your eyes, and, without breaking visual contact, he brought your slick fingers closer to his face. With no hesitation, he opened his mouth and pushed them into it, licking them clean. You felt your cunt gushing, eyelids half closed. You could have easily come again for him, but he released your fingers far too quickly for your liking.

“You naughty girl”, he whispered as he pulled you from the wrist to get you closer to his chest. “You taste even better than what I imagined”.

“I didn’t think you were…”

“Aware of your presence? Always, darlin’”, he finished for you.

Your cheeks blushed when he freed your wrist and lifted your chin up. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, his mouth just an inch away from yours. You bowed to kiss him, but he backed up a little, denying you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”, he asked, you could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

You nodded vehemently.

“Yes, please, Joel, I really need to feel you, to have you fuck me senseless”, you emphasized, short-breathed.

He seemed to consider your words for longer than what was acceptable. You saw his eyes flying between yours and your lips.

“Please?”, you begged.

Your prayers might have been heard, because he leaned forward, brushing your mouth with his.

“Then go down on your knees, darlin’”, he whispered against your lips.

You silently gasped as your clit pulsed at his words. You were delighted to follow his command, and so you kneeled compliantly.

When your knees touched the grass, his cock was at eye level. You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. His dick was as big as you remembered, the memory of it filling you up still haunted you. It was so erected now that the tip touched his belly button. Joel looked so strained you thought he had to be in pain. And you were more than willing to help him alleviate it.

You moved your hand forward, but before you could try to wrap your fingers around him, Joel stopped you.

“No, with your mouth”, was his order.

You intertwined your fingers on your lower back and inclined your heard towards him. You gazed up at him, his jawline very tense. You let your tongue out and shyly tapped his glans with the tip. Joel closed his eyes immediately and grumbled loudly as his cock twitched in front of you.

That was all you needed to spur you on. You widely opened your mouth to house his manhood and sealed your lips around the head, the tip of your tongue trying to push open the slit on his foreskin. You played with him for a bit while your jaw relaxed. Then you started to push him in further and further down your mouth, as far as you could take him. His glans pushed past your uvula, you could barely breathe, just as you had imagined a few months ago ― a dream come true. You bobbed your head back and forth, feeling him in your throat, your eyes watering. But you were still not close to have his dick entirely in your mouth ― he was so damn big.

Joel growled in ecstasy as he looked down to you. The sight of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed, bright beautiful eyes, your tongue maliciously inciting him… He just couldn’t believe how giving you were.

“Look at you with your mouth so full”, he said placing one of his hands under your chin. He could feel his own cock expanding your throat. “You look so damn pretty, baby”.

You leaned back a bit, releasing most of his erection except for the tip. With the help of one hand you started pumping his shaft, the other gently massaging his balls. Joel eyed you intensely while you ate him up like a lollypop. His salty flavour inundated all your senses, your eyes pinned on his.

His fingers clenched in frustration.

“Shit, stop, I’m gonna come”, he mumbled as he pushed back to free his dick from your wicked lips.

No way in hell, you thought. He was not about to deny you that. You had been thinking about this moment for fucking months, you wouldn’t let him take that pleasure away from you.

You grasped him by his ass, your palms firmly pressing on his buttocks to take his cock even deeper. You then gave him head as best as you knew how, fastening the rhythm when you felt the pulsation coming from him.

“Fuck, baby―”, he moaned your name as he came in your hot, wet cavity.

You felt his spent hit the back of your throat. It was so tangy and musky. You swallowed all of it. Ah, delicious, you thought gleefully. You let go of his ass and released his dick from the prison of your lips.

You placed the palms of your hands on your knees, still on the ground, and glanced up at him innocently with a sweet smile painting your face. You then opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show Joel you had eaten all his cum ― a bridge of spit connecting the tip of your tongue to his glans.

He dropped one hand to break off the arch of saliva between you and him with his index, and fed it to you ― you gladly accepted, sucking his finger clean.

“Did I do good, sir?”, you asked with a small voice, looking for praise.

“Good? You did fucking splendid, sweetheart”, you beamed with the compliment and got up to your feet when he offered you a hand.

He took your hand, walking behind him as he headed towards the lake. He turned around to face you and kissed you slowly, his tongue caressing your palate. He then took a step back. The sun was setting on his back, the orange and red lighting reflecting off the waterbed. His brown eyes, bearded jaw, hooked nose, his hair curling at the nape of his neck… He looked like a roman God ― Mars, you thought. Joel looked like a man about to fight for his life and yours on the battlefield.

He sat down on a massive flat rock one metre away from the bank of the lake, which was approximately two metres wide in both directions.

“Now undress for me, baby”, he instructed.

You did not hesitate ― all your clothing fell to your feet, piece by piece, while Joel eagerly watched the show you put on. He wetted his bottom lip while he readjusted his cock on his lap. You stood there with dreamy eyes, awaiting. He motioned one hand towards the rock he was sat on, an invitation for you to join him.

Once you were sat on his right, he placed his left hand around the front of your neck ― a very slight touch that forced you to flatten your back against the rock while he positioned himself on top of you. He bit your chin while his left hand put a sweet amount of pressure on your throat. You could tell he was controlling himself.

“My turn”, he whispered, coming off you.

He got off the rock, kneeling on the ground in front of you. You put your elbows down on the rock to lift your torso and be able to look at him, your knees bent, the sole of your feet against the cold surface of the rocky platform. Joel grabbed you by the hips and scooted your ass over to the edge of the rock. Your legs were firmly pressed against each other, trying to hide your quivering cunt ― suddenly you felt shy.

“Spread your legs open for me, darlin’, lemme see”, he commended you with his hands on your knees.

You couldn’t say no to him, you didn’t want to. So you obeyed, dropping your legs to the sides, offering him your dripping fold. He traced your slit with his index, and you moaned.

“You’re so fucking wet already. So receptive, aren’t you?”, he asked looking at you dead in the eye, his finger sinking in between your legs, looking for the entrance. “Who gets your pussy so wet?”, he pushed his fingertip in your hole, and you groaned loudly. “Who, darlin’? Use your words”.

“You, only you, sir”, you gasped.

“This is mine”. He pushed in the second phalange.

You closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing.

“All yours, yes”.

His finger got completely sucked in down to his knuckle, stroking your g-spot. You harshly pressed your lips.

“Exactly, don’t you dare forget that”, his tone was so serious you looked at him enigmatically, not really understanding where that sudden possessiveness came from, but you loved every bit of it. And you were more than happy to put his doubts to rest.

You nodded frantically.

“I would never, sir, I swear my pussy is all yours”, you really meant it.

“As it should be”, he added a second finger as he leaned forward and kissed your mound.

You sighed, eyes teary, and flattened your back against the rock again, as Joel made out with the fatty skin above your clit. He introduced a third finger, all of them rubbing your anterior wall. Then his mouth dropped and sucked in your clit. Your knees trembled while you held both of your breasts, playing with your nipples and biting down your lip to stop your wanton screams. He insisted with his kissing until your wet cunt started fluttering around his fingers, a clear tell you were about to come. He stroked your clit with his teeth, very lightly, sending shivers up your spine. Your legs pressed against his head, tension building up. And then, finally, sweet release. You came so hard on his mouth, and he drank it all.

He unburied his head from in between your legs and glanced at you with a sufficient smile.

“You taste even better directly from your creamy cunt, baby”, you were glad he was so talkative during sex, especially if it was to praise you.

Joel placed the palm of his hand over your mound, his fingers covering your damp pussy, and rubbed with just the right amount of friction. You exhaled slowly.

“I’m gonna make you come again”, he promised.

You pursed your lips, your cunt palpitating at the prospect.

“I don’t know if I can―”, you uttered under your breath.

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he was offended. Joel grabbed your thighs and pulled towards him; the back of your knees placed on his shoulders.

“Don’t doubt me, of course you can. I said I’ll make you”, his mouth was so close to your moist pussy you felt his cool breath on your damp skin.

You whimpered when his tongue swept your entire slit unhurriedly, from your perineum to your clit, his hand climbing up your body to squeeze one of your breasts firmly. Joel repeated that move a few times ― and your brain chemistry would be changed forever after that. He briefly pinched your nipple while he paid special attention to the core of your pleasure. Joel smothered your clit with his lips ― you closed your eyes while placing a hand over his on your boob.

Joel’s tongue stopped torturing you for a second. He nudged your clit with the tip of his hooked nose and then inhaled your sweet smell. That scent was making him go wild with lust to the point where he started fisting his cock, the tip already leaking with precum. He flattened his tongue against your swollen lips, wiggling it through the slit to touch your needy hole. He could not believe you were this wet for him ― if he had the chance, he would drink from your seeping fold every single day. This was how ambrosia tasted like ― he was damn sure of it.

He placed his hands to each side of your puffy flaps to spread your pussy open, while the tip of his tongue slipped inside of you. Your free hand flew to his head, fisting a handful of hair. Your toes clenched as he started to fuck your hole with his tongue. You felt your whole uterus contracting so hard it was almost painful. Your cum started to ooze out as a new orgasm hit you with full force, yelling his name. Joel did not waste any of it, licking it off you shamelessly.

What just happened ― that felt like sin, the most beautiful sin you had ever experienced. Your breathing was so irregular you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Then you heard Joel snickering as he got back up to his feet.

“See? Told ya”, he said smugly as you placed the elbows on the rock to lift your chest and glance at him.

He was jerking off, his cock ready for you again. You sat back up and leaned forward, your hands on his muscular thighs as you kissed the slippery tip, the shaft, then his balls. You showered pecks all over his manhood, worshipping it.

“S-sorry, sir, can I ask? Is your cock only mine? P-please?”, you asked in between smooches, almost panting, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Joel’s irises were swirling with desire, his hips slightly slanted forward towards your mouth, his dick visibly spasming while he caressed your cheek.

“All yours, yes”, he replicated your exact words, your heart fluttering with contempt.

You smiled at him before licking his testicles again ― your hand pushing his shaft against his lower belly to give you better access. Your eyes never abandoned his as your saliva covered his soft ball sacks.

This time he did step back, and you let him.

“I need you inside me, please”, you murmured.

His jaw was so tight he didn’t dare to speak. Joel could feel his heartbeat on his cock, all because of you and your wanton mouth. You looked so damn beautiful ― on your knees, staring at him through your eyelashes, patiently waiting. He knew you very well by now, fully conscious that as sweet as you were acting now, that was it ― an act. And he loved every bit of it. He liked the way you replied to him when sex wasn’t involved, taking no shit from anyone, your snarky remarks driving him crazy.

Joel sat down on the rock and motioned for you to join him on his lap. You joyfully obliged, sitting atop of him. Your knees to each side of his waist, your bust against his, skin to skin. Your nipples grazed his chest, becoming harder at the electric contact. He cupped both of your boobs and pushed them up, so he could kiss them tenderly. You sighed, your mouth against his ear. Still holding your breasts, he unattached his lips from your nipples to peck your chin.

“Fuck me, darlin’”.

You looked down between you two. His erection was so prominent you knew it was hurting him. And you could ease that pain for him. Heaving, you lifted your hips up and grabbed his dick. It was hard but soft at the same time, velvety, very warm and beating. So sensitive to the touch he groaned ― music to your ears. You hugged his neck with your free arm as you guided his tip to your leaking entrance.

With a sudden drop of your hips, you impaled yourself harshly ― his bollocks kissing your tumid lips. You circled your hips against his, very slowly, which made you both moan in unison. Then you raised your body, his cock slipping out completely. Holding him from the base, you came down on him sharply again.

Joel was close to losing his mind. If you did that one more time, he wasn’t going to be able to hold it for much longer. You seemed to understand that, because you started to rock your hips back and forth, up and down. He kneaded your ass, feeling your rhythm, spurring you on. His fingers squeezed the skin under them while he kissed your collarbone. His mind was completely blank ― he could only focus on your sweet pussy hugging him, choking him. His dick felt so wet, so hot, throbbing for release… You kept on riding him, your movements growing erratic as you both were close to climax.

You surrounded Joel’s neck with both arms, pressing your breasts against his handsome face, your hips flushed with his, as your cunt angrily convulsed around his erection in blissful liberation. Joel held it together while you recovered, his hands still on your ass cheeks, fingers so clutched they were close to dislocating.

“Baby, if you don’t get off, I’m―”, pain smeared his tone. He was really fighting for his life right there and then.

“Oh, sorry”, you said with a small voice, still feeling your own pleasure. You elevated your hips, so his manhood popped out with a squelching sound.

You were not going to leave him hanging, obviously. So you kneeled before him, in between his strong legs, and kissed his tip. Joel sighed loudly when you closed off your lips around him for the second time today and pumped his shaft fast and strong, milking him dry. A minute later, your throat was clogged with his spent. A drop of it trickled down the corner of your mouth.

Joel leaned forward and caught the cum off the corner of your mouth with his thumb before rubbing it on your lips. Then he kissed you wetly, devouring you. He could never have enough of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you whispered with a smile when he was done assaulting your mouth.

He just smiled back. A genuine smile, the first you had seen from him. It tugged at your heart a little.

You were still feeling restless. Although you had orgasmed four times already, your pussy lips were so inflamed you thought you were on your way down to hell. Still on your knees in front of him, you softly massaged your sensitive clit. It was burning ― you suppressed a sob as you glanced up at him, lips slightly parted.

“What is it? Is your tight pussy still gushing, sweetheart?”, he asked you, cupping your chin.

You nodded, tears of frustration blurring your vision.

“I need more, I can’t ― my pussy is on fire, sir”, you muttered, feeling sorry for yourself. You were in a heightened state of sensory overload.

“Let me help you with that then”, you almost cried of relief at his words.

You quickly got up and kneeled on top of his lap again. He slipped a hand in between your bodies to caress your core. Your flesh trembled at the touch. Suddenly you realised you desperately needed to find your own rhythm ― you didn’t have to communicate it, Joel understood it in a second. He stopped and let you do what you had to do. You placed the palm of your hands on his shoulders and started rubbing your pussy against the side of his still hand. You slid your cunt further up to his elbow, and then returned back to his wrist. Your clit greedily welcomed the tingling sensation of the hair on his forearm against your wet slit.

You kept on rocking your hips back and forth on his forearm, pressing hard against it, sliding, rubbing and causing as much friction as you could, the heat in your belly flowing down to your crotch. You buried your fingers in his wet hair and tilted his head backwards so you could rest your forehead against his. Your inner walls contracted extremely hard and then you let go, squirting plentifully for a few never-ending seconds on Joel’s forearm. Your overstimulated cunt was leaking on top of him as if someone had opened the tap of your pleasure and couldn’t close it. When the last wave of your climax abandoned you, you looked down to see how it all trickled down from his forearm onto his lap.

You closed your eyes, content, when he gently tapped your pussy a few times. You breathed in deeply, feeling completely satisfied, finally at peace. Then you pecked his lips with gratitude.

“Better now, baby?”.

“Yes, infinitely better. I―I’m sorry I made a mess”.

“Don’t you apologise for that”.

You both remained in that position for a few minutes ― his now relaxed, wet cock warmly lodged between the flaps of your still dribbling cunt. He hugged your waist to bring you closer to him, his mouth brushing yours in a moment of calmness you had not experienced with him yet.

When his lips released yours, you placed your cheek against his right shoulder, your fingertips tracing the scar on it. Silence ensued, neither of you felt the need to fill it with words.

As much as you fought against yourself, you had feelings for Joel. Although you probably didn’t know all his faces, you knew enough about him to love him. The way he would have you on your tiptoes with his sarcastic comments, his bluntness, his rudeness, the way he would snap back at you when you pressed his buttons ― but also his kindness, his caring side, his softness, how he worried about you making sure you were okay, his demanding sexual needs, the way he made you feel when his hands mapped out your skin.

But you were not sure what he thought about all of this. In some respects, his mind was inscrutable. It was part of his charming personality, you guessed. You kissed the scar on his shoulder as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“I love how you smell”, he murmured.

“Is that the only thing you love about me?”, you couldn’t resist, the words just slipped out of your mouth. You wished you could take them back, but it was too late for that.

Joel slightly froze in place at your question. He couldn’t deny that he had started to develop feelings for you. The way you looked at him made him want to be a better person. Although you drove him crazy sometimes, you made his days bearable, a shining beautiful light amongst so much darkness. You were his lighthouse, guiding him to shore. He just needed to learn how to surf through the violent waves before he could safely approach the coast.

Knowing how close he had been to losing you had opened his eyes to a new, unknown reality. He would literally kill for you if he had to ― he had already done it and would do it all over again without blinking. No regrets whatsoever.

But he had some unresolved trust issues when it came to romantic relationships. Joel married Sarah’s mother, Charlotte, when they were both twenty-one years old, as soon as they knew they were expecting. The first two years were very hard on them both, parenthood was not a piece of cake. Resentment had grown between them, to the point where Charlotte had accused him of robbing her of her fun years, which led her to cheat on him. They tried to salvage their marriage for the sake of Sarah, but they never did ― Charlotte died in a car accident while on a heated, angry phone call with Joel.

He locked away those thoughts ― it wasn’t the time nor the place to dwell on the past. Not when he had you with him.

“I… well, no. I love everything about you, sweetheart”, he conceded.

Your heart skipped a beat with joy. No, it wasn’t a love confession, but it was much more than what you were expecting of him. You turned your face against his neck and placed a kiss on his Adam’s apple.

“C’mon, let’s freshen up, I want to clean my mess off you, I do feel a bit bad”, you said with a chuckle.

You got off his lap, the cool breeze touching your sweaty skin. You offered him a hand, which he took, standing up behind you. Without letting go of his fingers interlaced with yours, you guided him to the water. It was cold, but you ventured inside with Joel following you. When the level was up to your waist, you turned around in Joel’s embrace.

You proceeded to wash off your cum and his off his cock, his lap, his forearm. When you were done, he kissed the top of your head. His left hand did the same to you, his fingers caressing your pussy, cleaning the proof of your shared pleasure. He did so not in a sexual way, but in a caring, intimate way. A minute later, you both disappeared beneath the water to emerge a second later, to wash off all the sweat. You found yourself in his arms again, your cheek against his chest ― you could hear his heart beating loudly but steadily.

“Joel, I―”, you didn’t know where to start. There were thoughts you had been wanting to put into words for a while now. “What happened to me sucks and I still die a bit inside when the memories come back at night. But none of it was your fault, nor mine. I do not want those bastards to win, to ruin my life. And my life with you. And I know it will take time to heal that part of me, or maybe it will never heal, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want you. I want you so badly, Joel, but what I do not want is you walking on eggshells around me. I’m not broken, I want to move forward, not get stuck in the past. Do you understand what I mean?”, you asked, your cheek still against his chest, looking up at him.

His eyes were focused on yours. His heart shrunk a bit, sharing your pain. If he could, he would take it away, all of it ― the fear, the panic attacks, the agony, the memories, the nightmares. But he couldn’t change the past. So, he nodded.

“I do, honey”, he whispered as he bowed down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, hugging each other in silence. Then Joel grumpily ended the embrace.

“We should get back, Tommy is going to kill us”.

You laughed because it was so true. You both got out of the lake, towelled down and got dressed. You started walking towards the campsite besides him ― your hand in his, fingers entangled. When you saw the tent and Tommy’s outline against the fire, you got ready to release his hand. But he didn’t let go when Tommy turned around to look at both of you.

You tried to hide a soft smile ― and failed.

The younger Miller noticed you holding hands but made no comment about it. But he did smile. A very wide smile.

“Well, about damn time, dinner is almost ready”, he said with amusement, pointing to the rabbit impaled with a stick roasting on top of the fire. “If you took any longer, the rabbit was going to come back to life and run away”.

“Always so theatrical, Tommy”, you chuckled.

[sirenscriptures]

primarchs + fantasies

summary: basically just a ramble thirst post because i want to drag 30k/40k into my already mess of a blog. i’m still figuring out certain pieces of characterization/lore so be patient with me here <3 i am suffering this brainrot and dragging you down with me!

warnings/notes: nsfw themes (18+ only), fem-bodied depicted reader, mentions/depictions of exhibitionism, of course size difference, hints of breeding kinks, slight mention of blood drawing, bondage/rope play. (these are partial fantasies i think they’d have but also they are genuinely so touch starved i think even the slightest form of physical intimacy could make them combust. in a good way.)

featuring: lion el’jonson, fulgrim, leman russ, magnus, sanguinius, mortarion, and horus lupercal (pre-heresy)

lion el’jonson

look, if there’s one thing each of the primarchs could use in some way, it’s a fucking break. lion is definitely one of those primarchs. the man has always been on high alert, and has never truly known how to relax. that is, until he bonded with you.

the fact he’s found himself so close to you is quite a milestone of sorts. being a primarch of many secrets, you can assert that he isn’t someone who trusts easily. he doesn't let many others know what his deeper thoughts contain, not even some of his own blood.

however, it’s almost like he’s a different person in your presence. when he’s with you, he feels a profound sense of peace, like he can shut his mind off from his usual stressors and worries. especially during your alone time.

but it’s when he’s completely alone (a rare occurrence) that his thoughts tend to wander more than usual. it isn’t a total shock in the slightest when all he can think about is you. but when his thoughts are crowded with curiosities of what sounds you’d make while on top of him and how you’d feel wrapped around him…yeah it gets a little concerning to someone of his stature.

the thoughts of you like this start small…then they bloom into much more , to the point where if he even looks your direction when in this state of mind he’s a stuttering, flustered mess. a completely rare state for a primarch to be caught in, yet here we are.

so, it’s safe to say that while lion isn’t one to deeply “fantasize” like some of his brothers might, his intrusive thoughts about you certainly have a habit of spiraling and he has to physically slap himself to snap out of it.

fulgrim

in terms of fantasies, where do we even start with fulgrim? ever since you let him get close to you, whether that be on a personal or physical level, it was like opening pandora’s box. when you get him started, there is no going back.

it doesn’t have to be much to get him started with you. just your beauty alone and seeing you smile at him could get his dirtier thoughts racing. (horny bastard <3)

the fact that you were totally oblivious for a while of the power you held over him was amusing at times. though he was much bigger than you, he often thought about what you would do if he let you take the reins over him.

even just the thought of your soft hands running over his bare body could make him shiver. he could picture perfectly how beautiful you’d look if he had you on top of him. but he could also picture how beautiful you’d look if he had you in front of a mirror.

the way your delicate frame would lean against his chest as he fucked into you, massive hands roaming all about your perfect body…

most of the time he has to stop himself from thinking any further, for just the thoughts alone aren’t enough. maybe he’ll show you what he means when you’re alone with him in his chambers.

leman russ

if you want to delve into literal ferality, it is absolutely leman’s brain. and his actions, of course. so it isn’t far fetched to say his fantasies about you are in the same realm as his normal thought processes.

now, just because he is one of the more “feral” primarchs doesn’t mean he lacks complete restraint. but when it comes to you, let’s just say his restraint goes a bit…out the window if you know what i mean.

when his mind does wander and you’re not around, he tends to imagine showing you off. exhibiting how well he can pleasure you and how good you look while he does it to you. he doesn’t mind those of his legion seeing him with you like this, and even when you two are alone during these moments, he almost wants someone to see.

he would love to display the way he makes you whimper and squirm around him while rutting into you. though, he won’t let anyone get the wrong idea. you’re his, and he won’t let you forget that in the slightest.

but that’s not even half of what he’d like to do to you. and you can tell so blatantly in the way he teases you, unashamed of who’s around when he makes his usual remarks. but at the same time, he does it all out of love. he knows how annoyed you get from him pushing your buttons all the time, but he can tell you wouldn’t change it for anything.

magnus the red

for someone who sees most physical intimacy as a “waste of time” like a few of his other brothers, he certainly doesn’t stick to that thought process when it's you he's thinking about.

with magnus being as knowledgeable as he is, it genuinely frustrates him when he can’t figure out at first why he feels this way about someone like you. yet the more time he spends around you, and the more you show how open you are to learning from him and that you actually listen to him, the more these feelings start to increase.

in a strange way, he feels comforted by you. though when he’s closer to you than usual, these feelings of comfort seem to…deepen into more than he first expected.

even though he can’t pinpoint it at first, he finds that every time he’s away from you, the want for your presence grows within him like some sort of hunger. yet, it’s now laced with the craving to feel your touch.

his mind is generous in being able to envision you beneath him, body trembling with arousal as his touch travels your bare skin, admiring and caressing every inch of you. all of his senses are ablaze; the craving for your touch, voice, scent, everything becoming too much for even someone of his stature to endure.

shaking away these thoughts is much more of a challenge than magnus would first anticipate. but now that he’s come to this self discovery, he doesn’t want to waste anymore time merely thinking about it.

sanguinius

while sanguinius is the more compassionate of the primarchs when it comes to overall personality, don’t let that fool you. when this man gets down, he’s an absolute freak.

on a serious note, the one thing sanguinius loves is spoiling you, on all levels, of course. but he just has a little bit of extra fun when he gets to do it to you physically. he does love when you return the favor, but if he’s being completely honest he likes it more when he gets to please you.

when he’s with you in an ordinary setting, he doesn’t let his more “sinful” thoughts take over. out of many of his siblings, he is certainly one of the most restrained and can control himself when it comes to feelings such as these. one of the lucky ones, he supposes.

but despite being able to hide it, you do make it quite difficult at times. it can be anything that triggers that burning within him—the way you unsuspectingly bat your eyelashes when you stare at him, or when you look so bashful when he greets you with a kiss on your hand. or even when you accidentally brush up against one of his wings. and you aren’t even aware you do so much to him physically…

yet there’s not much that gets him going quite like the thought of driving you absolutely mad with pleasure (much like fulgrim if we’re being honest here). whether it’s the thought of how you’d react to his head in between your thighs until your legs tremble uncontrollably, or how pretty you’d sound when he drains just the slightest bit of blood from your tender neck…

sometimes he’s left heavy-breathed at the thought, and you’re not even in the same room as him. if only you were aware of the effects you had on him. though, something inside sanguinius felt as though it wouldn’t be a mystery for much longer.

mortarion

believe it or not, mortarion is not a total stranger to these kinds of thoughts. though, it’s much more intensified since you’re the only person he’s had these thoughts about.

with mortarion being one of the more distant and reserved of his brothers, his sex drive is one of those things he’s never had to deal with since he’s never felt this way about anyone else before. so it’s no surprise how easily pent up he can become.

even just the slightest things you do can get him electrified, and the poor, touch and affection-starved soul doesn’t even fully understand why. the way you smiled at him with genuine fondness from a distance the other day? he’s still thinking about it for weeks. the way your hand gently brushed against his face by mistake? still has him reeling even when he’s in your presence.

the way his thoughts of you overwhelm him is far from easy to deal with, and you immediately notice the way his behavior changes in response to these newer sensations.

it’s so much worse when he’s away from you for long periods of time, though. his mind is racing with everything from how beautiful you would look tied up in various positions; the imprints of rope staining your soft skin, to what sweet sounds he could get you to make in response to his mouth in between your legs.

his poor legionaries when they have to deal with him in this state…he’s so helplessly tuned out from everything and they have not a clue what’s going on with their primarch. but he won’t have to worry much longer, for he’ll be venting his sexual frustrations out on you when you’re both reunited.

horus lupercal (pre-heresy)

honestly, what doesn’t horus think about when he’s thinking about you? not many people can make his mind wander to even the most dangerous of places like you can. while he isn’t sure how this all started, he is far from complaining. honestly, what doesn’t horus think about when he’s thinking about you? not many people can make his mind wander to even the most dangerous of places like you can. while he isn’t sure how this all started, he is far from complaining.

the way he is around you is his usual self, but his thoughts about you aren’t restrained in the slightest. you’re so captivating, and while he wants to hang on every word you say to him, he can’t help but fantasize in the process.

horus doesn’t expect you to have a very strong effect on him at first, yet he’s proved wrong very quickly when he’s away from you. when he’s finally alone is when it hits him.

he thinks about how much he’d love it if he had you all to himself. he could imagine spoiling you in every way imaginable, but especially physically. he could imagine all the noises he could cause you to make, and all of the sensations he could make you feel. but most of all, he could imagine breeding you—filling you up with his seed to where you know that you’re his.

from there, you’re the cause of all of horus’ sleepless nights until he gets to see you again…

[ailesswhumptober]

Hi. I definitely felt refreshed reading your hard stance and information on ai in your pinned, but irrelevant to that, I only found your blog today and I feel like I missed something with AI and whumptober. Can I learn about that? I hope my language makes sense.

In the late summer of 2023, an anonymous user asked the Whumptober blog if AI-generated content would be allowed for the event. This anon did not come from any of us, nor do we know who originally send this ask, but one of us did see Whumptober's response which kickstarted this entire thing.

Whumptober responded that they would not be disallowing AI because they "do not want to police how other people create things" and "didn't want to exclude anybody" but that they would "discourage" AI-generated content "because it feels like cheating" (all direct quotes).

Myself, the other mods, and several more people, were very disappointed in this stance. several of us started replying to the post and got into a back-and-forth with the Whumptober mods about why AI-generated content is harmful and bad. These posts and replies have since been mostly deleted by the Whumptober blog, nor do we want to rehash the entire thing, but some of the stances that Whumptober took that really rubbed us wrong were (again with direct quotes):

"AI-generated content is not art theft". When pointed out that these sorts of applications very much scrape content without consent, Whumptober claimed that it's the AI that steals then, not the person who uses the AI. They also claimed that since the AI already scraped the content, you "might as well use it", that defending against AI scraping is "going down on an already burning hill" and that "if you don't want your content scraped/stolen, just don't post it online". We found these very concerning statements from an event made by and for creators.

"AI-generated content is a fandom issue and nobody in the real world is harmed by it". This is, obviously, factually incorrect. When we pointed out real creators in many creative industries are being hit hard because of AI-generation, they said "that's capitalism's fault, not AI-generation" (???) and they also told us to "touch grass".

"These sort of AIs are an accessibility tool for the disabled, so disliking them is ableism". Again, this is incorrect. They tried to liken it to predictive text or spell check. We pointed out that there's a vast difference between those machine learning tools and actually generative AI that subsides on scraped content. We said disabled people (many of whom were involved in the back-and-forth) are sick of being used as a strawman by tech bros. They then said "real disabled people probably feel differently" which was a slap in the face, and honestly the thing that still is the most horrible to me about this whole thing.

This is the point where Whumptober started to block a bunch of us and delete asks/replies. They made a post that falsely made it seem like we were harassing and bullying them for saying that they "couldn't check every single entry for AI-generated content". We pointed out multiple times that we absolutely did not expect them to, since we're very aware that with the size of the Whumptober event, it would be impossible. We'd just like them to say 'AI-generated content is not allowed and it's art theft' but apparently they didn't want to.

After this one of the mods DMed me and asked me to send them some resources on why AI-generated content and scraping AI is bad, so they could educate themselves. We spent several minutes collecting sources (some linked in our pinned). They said the Whumptober mods would read them, and then come to a standpoint. But then within less than a minute of us sending the links, they deleted the remaining posts involved in the debate, and just told us they were sticking to their standpoint that "We will not police how people create things, we'll just discourage people by not reblogging it". They also added to their pinned that they won't ever respond to any asks about AI-generated content again. So that was that.

Somewhere during the argument, the Whumptober mods told us that if we disliked their stance so much, we should just make our own event. So we did.

(Edit to add: regardless on if whumptober does change their policy, we never received any sort of acknowledgement or apology of the above and we will keep running this event for whoever wants to.)

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

I have to ask about my top 5 favorite boys Dunsparce! I know all it's Pokédex entries talk about it burrowing underground BUT!!! What if like. You raise it from an egg or catch it so it's used to humans instead of just a wild one and give it a backyard to like. Use it like a bigger Pokémon version ant farm situation and try to keep it outside or not to drill in the house/make sure to make it feel safe so it doesn't on instinct? That's GOTTA be a at least a B-tier then, right??? (I may be coping a little but sue me, I think Dunsparce is a silly guy that is severely underated, at least before S/V came out.)

(Hey! It’s the pokémon in the blog’s pfp at last!) While I unfortunately can’t give dunsparce the glowing B-tier rating you were hoping for, but I also can’t say that a dedicated owner would be entirely unable to care for one. It won’t be easy (or cheap), but certainly not impossible. Let’s get into it, this is a long one.

To begin with, dunsparce are pretty big. At nearly five feet long, these surprisingly quick pokémon need a lot of space to move around. Thankfully, they aren’t too heavy, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble carrying them around with a big bear-hug. Now, as you pointed out in your post, dunsparce do require some specialized space to be happy and healthy, which will likely present some problems for a lot of potential owners.

Wild dunsparce make their homes underground in (I like the way you put it) giant, maze like ant-farm structures (Crystal, Ruby/Sapphire, Diamond/Pearl/Platinum). They have been known to share these burrows with other ground-dwelling pokémon like digletts (Ultra Sun), so if you are already the proud owner of a burrowing pokémon you may already have what you need for a dunsparce. Given their size, dunsparce need a lot of dirt to dig around in, which could be a problem when it comes to the size of your home and/or yard. Thankfully, while these pokémon are skilled digger with their drill-like tail, they aren’t exactly avid explorers: once a dunsparce has a nest they are happy with, they’ll spend most of their time inside it, remaining “virtually motionless” (Crystal). So, while you probably won’t have problems with your dunsparce running away from home, you will need to make sure they have adequate space. The larger your yard, the more likely the space will be adequate for a dunsparce. Because of their size, a simple sand/soil box won’t cut it (this is where the potentially expensive part of owning a dunsparce comes in).

Because they spend most of their time underground, it is important to have proper expectations about socializing with your dunsparce: these pokémon aren’t really the cuddly, indoors type. In fact, wild dusparce are known to be very skittish, especially around humans. According to the pokédex, dusnaprce tend to run away as soon as they’re aware that a human has spotted them, burrowing into the ground as fast as they can (Gold, Ultra Moon). In your request, though, you brought up an interesting question: would a dunsparce raised from birth be more comfortable with humans? As with most animals, I would have to guess that the answer would be yes (this isn’t really something I’ve explored on this blog before, so it’s an interesting avenue to go down!). Keep in mind, though, that these pokémon are pretty rare due to their fear of humans in the wild, so getting a dunsparce egg might be pretty expensive, and you’ll want to do your research to ensure that you’re buying from an ethical pokémon breeder.

Due to their aforementioned fear of humans, dunsparce are far more likely to choose flight over fight in most situations. This means that they aren’t exceptionally dangerous to humans. Their drill-like tail allows them to use powerful moves like Hyper Drill and Drill Run. While these moves could really do some damage to a person, they’re much more likely to cause damage to the environment around them when they try to flee. It would not be a good idea to bring a dunsparce inside unless it is some sort of indoor space where they can comfortably dig if they feel threatened. The only dangerous dunsparce is a dunsparce that feels cornered in a space where they can’t dig.

If you are able to provide a dunsparce with the large nesting space that they need, they are a pretty easy pokémon to care for. They’re laid-back but skittish, but get along well with other burrowing pokémon. While I can’t recommend them to all pet-owners, those with the right resources and dedication could find a great pet in this pokémon. Be careful though: if your dunsparce knows the move Hyper Drill, they are much more likely to evolve into the much larger, much more difficult-to-care-for dudunparce! I’d recommend the use of an everstone, just in case.

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

I don't know exactly how to word it but as a kinky mother fucker and as someone who is a concept artist/character designer... these polls seem to highlight fatphobia in an interesting way.. both in the way that the "undesirable" monsters (ie the ones that are made to be "gross" like decomposing or the like) often have fat/bellies on them. but the ones that are more classically "desirable" are depicted either skinny or muscular. And typically the votes reflect this. the even more interesting moments are when the votes don't reflect that and the fatter monsters are proven to be desirable despite the seeming intent to be undesirable or grotesque. much to think about...

With the way the decomposing ones are proportioned it's meant to evoke a bloating corpse, with those in particular (like the venom troll) I think it might be uncanny valley. Now it's definitely true that fatter creatures generally do worse, just look at ones like hill giant. But I'd argue the vast majority of the apparent fatphobia around here is on WotC. and the rest has been blocked from the blog.

Firstly because many people enjoy larger entries, just as many enjoy smaller ones. The ones that do poorly are typically also partnered with 1000 other traits people might find undesirable. I'd point the fatphobia at WotC constantly depicting it alongside cruelty, greed, stupidity, stench, etc. People's biases, at least from the notes, seem to be largely with the other traits WotC likes to pair with size more than the size itself. As for the rest, I'd still hesitate to point fatphobia at the general viewer. Maybe a bit of unconscious cultural bias, but we're dealing in private preferences here. A preference toward the large, tall, short, brunette, hair style, type of socks, personality, etc, that's not the issue imo. Fatphobia's in how you treat people, in your biases and assumptions, not your internal sexual preferences. I think the views actually reflect that nicely, as the NICE large monsters ones have still gotten into the 70's. Which is HUGE, that's where medusa, mindflayers, and lot of classic monsterfucking creatures have ended up. Once we passed like 1000 people, very few humanoids could breech 80's, so grading on a curve there are larger ones effectively getting a B or low A. At that point the rest is usually explained by "being too monstrous/the viewer prefers women and the example given is male." And I'm saying this as someone who is obese, I have been mistaken for being quite pregnant. Gained a lot after my accident reduced my mobility 2 years ago, and the binge eating from the following depression. working it down though, I've been hovering around 220 (100 kg) for a bit recently but I'm slowly dropping again. Which is still pretty heavy at my height, though my vitals are all very good so I don't really care much. Now there are some people who just are fatphobic, and I felt no remorse about blocking the few people who were being dicks about it. But it's usually just in the other horrible traits WotC gave them or just not being into that. I'm not getting onto people for not preferring my body shape, just for insulting it or mistreating others over it. I think monsterfuckers are better about this than the general populace.

...and yes I took 2 months to respond to this. but have finally decided to chuck it out but make it unrebloggable. because I don't want this to breech into tumblr at large and attract too much attention from the average tumblite.

[waxingrunes]

I’m seeing too much of this across all channels and I need to write a little something on my humble blog with my humble amount of followers, because how else am I going to get this off my chest.

Some of you need to remember that this whole world we created is pure, fiction. It’s based off fiction and we are building off fiction, forking off in different directions with characters we love.

The canon vs fanon debate is ongoing and quite honestly, mind numbingly pointless and you all consistently contradict and overlap one another with whatever discourse you’re riding that week. You lot wanna argue a point by saying, “these are my hc’s and I can do what I like with them stop taking everything so seriously teeheehehehe” then uno reverse that the next minute by screaming, “that would never happen *insert name* is this or is that” but fuck canon right? Fuck JKR? Or is it more, fuck the parts of canon I don’t like and I’ll take the parts I do so I can shove them down the throats of creators who represent these characters in an opposing light. The amount of posts I’ve seen floating around these sites that are people preaching to their audiences about how dumb they are (unless it’s meant to be satire, I’m not a brainless sensitive lump with no humour bone) for liking certain things, or enjoying certain things, or preferring certain aspects in a character is astounding. Take pause before jumping on your high horse over a fictional character and shaming people for moulding them into what they enjoy. Is this not the beauty of fiction, imagination; the ability to twist and turn over different traits and appearances within our palms and make them into our own little dress up dolls?

Here’s my two cents as a WOLFSTAR artist, not a Marauders— if I want to make Sirius into a teacup and Remus into a sea slug and have him curl up to sleep every night in his bowl, then I’ll do that with fine china detail. If I want to make Sirius someone who refuses to wear nothing but a specific shade of tangerine and Velcro strapped trainers, I will. One day I might throw Moony into a boxing ring and have him be a middleweight champion, stained by the blood of his opponent whilst his wolf is chomping at the bit to come out just before the full moon threatens to take centre stage. If I want to make Sirius 6ft tall and Remus 5ft1, I will. Why not draw an AU of them as the rocks from Everything, Everywhere All At Once? Maybe, they can be something as simple as a boy and a boy who look the way you want them to look, fuck the way you want them to fuck and fall in love and fight, and scream, and cry, and make up a million different ways.

Let’s get more specific as the seal’s broken. Why not make Remus plus sized and give him a beard or a dad’s bod at age 23. Or maybe because he’s lighter haired he doesn’t have dark hair like that and only has a smattering of it across the ugliest of his scars. Consider this— moony with softer hips but fuller sturdy shoulders. Or long, slender limbs with a deceptively hidden strength owing to his wolf, stronger than James though he doesn’t look it. Onto Sirius, try to tell me I’m not going to put him in thigh highs and fem the shit out of him whilst he holds a bat in one hand covered in the blood of someone who tried to disrespect his Moons. Alert the press when someone erases every single one of his tattoos only to replace them with hyperpigmentation. What about giving him a beater’s build and a long thick trail of naval hair that he likes to call his ‘seeker’s delight’. What about a hairless Sirius who has a soft life and likes to make herself pretty for her 6ft 4 boyfriend every weekend when he gets on the train to visit.

How about, I stick with my personal holy take on the boys and present you with a harmless middle ground where Moony is whatever the fuck I want him to be physically, emotionally, or characteristically but always a wet fucking cloth for Sirius. A grape, under a thumb, you could say. And a Sirius, who is too whatever I want him to be physically, emotionally, or characteristically but will always be Moony’s biggest cheerleader.

Stay with me whilst I offer you the brain stretching, risky, taboo thought for you to ponder on: stop trying to please people. Stop absorbing all these takes that pressure you into thinking you’ve got to include every fucking thing that shaves you down and boxes you into their squeaky clean little creator! Indulge in what you like. Make it public, make it known and make it as loud as you want. Feels good on this side of freedom.

Lastly, quick (none of this has been quick) circle back to myself being a Wolfstar artist, not a Marauders one. I will not be shamed into drawing the women in this fandom, I will not try to even out my art with equal parts women and men, in fear of being called misogynistic. I came here for Wolfstar and I stay for them; I get 95% of my muse from them and enjoy drawing these idiots nearly every single day when I can. I’ve a busy life, a job, the luxury of a family that love me and a couple friends I’d like to keep too. If and when I draw, it’s going to be what I want to draw and want to indulge in, not to check off your boxes of inclusion. I am not going to defend my choice of indulgence to you. I am not going to refute women or wlw ships and in fact, eat up stories or art where they’re prominent. Will I have muse or will to do a piece on them? Probably not. If I do, I will and if it’s not done to a standard deemed appropriate enough by the council, well shit I hope I get an honourable mention in one of your hate threads on Twitter.

Grow up. I am the type of person who has a more or less rigid taste on these boys and what I, enjoy representing them like and you runts will run your throats hoarse before I turn an ear. I am not the type of person to see someone who doesn’t like what I prefer and start slamming my keyboard and slap them with a red card. I’ll move on but appreciate the take in silence. Some of you really, come across like you’re stomping your feet in a tantrum, some of you sound like you’ve never been told to shut the fuck up a day in your life and some of you, some of you, really think you’re a messiah.

Fuck your canons, fanons and righteous attitudes towards people who are quite literally, not real. You are not a deity of the Marauders, you are a fucking loser offline just like the rest of us.

[fandomshatefatpeople]

Hey so I get that this mainly a blog about media but I have no one fat-positive in my life and I need help. I’ve been fat all my life and now I’m on a mood stabilizer that makes me consistently gain weight and like I’m at the point where even plus size stores don’t carry clothes that fit me. Everyone keeps wanting me off the pills but I need them right now.

I worry I’m doomed to never like how I look again because I won’t be able to wear the clothes I want. And with how many health problems run in my family I just don’t have time for the world to get more accommodating.

I don’t know what to do to or how to be happy

*hugs*

I'm so sorry you're having people fat shaming you in your life. I've personally gained like 100 pounds from different psychotropics over the last 22 years. Some of it was really fast (like when I got put on lithium and gained 50 pounds in 4 months). I've done my fair amount of yoyo dieting as a result and let me tell you please start curating your online presence to feature fat positivity. A lot of the fat positivity of the last decade or so is just... it would make teenage me feel a whole lot better honestly. There's tons of resources like @fatphobiabusters and the tag #fatshion if you want to see other fat people who are wearing whatever they want.

I personally gained a lot of weight with my knee injury 2 years ago and its been very comforting to see so much more in the way of options now.

I'll give you a few tips for shopping. 1) only shop sales and clearance on popular retail sites like torrid or lanebryant. (I've gotten so much cute stuff from Lane Bryant that I don't see in their stores and like everything in their stores is for rich people I swear). 2) Shop with different occassions in mind. Pick one fancy dress for things like weddings and parties or clubbing. Lots of chic cocktail dresses can be dressed up or dressed down depending on your accessories. Get some work outfit staples (black pants or skirts are a must have for everyone but as long as you don't shop impulsively and recklessly at the last minute you should find a few things on sale now that will wow people when you finally debut them) 3) I know its hard to shop online but it can get easier if you do a few things. First of all is know your measurements. Get a measuring tape and measure your chest/bust your hips and your tummy where you want your pants to be. (this totally depends on whether you're looking for like high waisted pants or jeans btw).

Ok that's all I can think of right now but I might do a post that highlights my recent shopping sprees.

mod laina

[literallyzooble]

The Amazing Digital Marching Band: Beta Designs

WHAT THE HEEEEELLLLLLL OH MY GAWD NO WAYAYAYAYAYAY

Hi hello hi!! I finally got around to designing some beta layouts for my Digital Circus AU! Please tell me what you think and reblog if you can! If I continue to expand upon this AU, I might just make its own blog for it! Just depends when and if I have time :)

Okay under the cut is me infodumping about each design so feel free to like skip allat if you don’t want to read it

Gangle: Color Guard -I wanted to still follow Gangle’s ribbon motif in her design, this is probably the most personalized outfit out of all of them. -The ribbon the makes up her body now continues down and spirals around her legs, sort of to make a “skeleton” of a dress. -I added a bit more flare to her arms, adding extra ribbons that don’t act as limbs, and more as sleeves or decoration. -The bow on her head kind of just ties it all together, again fitting with the ribbon motif that I was going for. -In terms of the first point, the reason why I say “personalized” is that I’m still not sure what I’m going for in terms of outfits. I don’t know if I want them all to be uniform and the same, like a true marching band (in this case, I would have to change Gangle’s outfit), or if I’d like each uniform to have more of a personal style to it (in this case I would keep Gangle’s outfit, and change uniforms to echo the original character’s designs (i.e. changing Ragatha’s uniform to be a bit more dress like).

Pomni: Drum Major -I’m still deciding on the hat, I wanted to try to make a shako with a jester hat motif, but I’ll have to work it out over time. -Her uniform borrows from modern marching uniforms (Stanbury for inspiration) and circus jester clothes (hence the fringe around the waist). -Gloves are the same size as her original gloves, except they’re white. -Pants are classic bibber pants, shoes are classic marching shoes (both black).

Zooble: Snare (Battery) -One of their antennae is a snare stick. I came up with this gimmick that Zooble basically pulls out sticks from everywhere: their head, their arm, their leg, they always have a spare. -I decided to give Zooble two wings for stability, since you don’t want to be tilted to one side while marching, especially for battery. -Their right (looking at the drawing it’s their left) arm has this mechanism where you can easily insert sticks, it’s sort of like one of those things that can extend your pencil when it’s short? It uses the same logic. -I kinda went the craziest on Zooble’s design because I am so normal about them (I am not) -I CHOSE ZOOBLE AS A SNARE BEFORE GOOSE SAID THAT THEY PLAY DRUMS MY BRAIN IS MASSIVE

Ragatha: Flute -Adding on from what I yapped about in Gangle’s tidbit, I had this idea to make the uniforms a bit more personalized to each character, for example giving Ragatha’s uniform a bit more of a “dress” look to math her original design. Of course, this conflicted with my knowledge of marching bands and why everyone has such similar uniforms, so to go with the dress-like design or not, as well as personalizing each of the character’s designs more, is still up in the air. -Woodwinds have gloves that have the fingertips cut off, so their fingers can be more technical. Ragatha’s gloves are black. -The woodwind and brass uniforms are mostly the same, the shakos (color wise) are the only things that differentiate the two. -Classic marching bibber and shoes. -Yes I am self projecting by making Ragatha a flute and BEFORE YOU GO SAYING “erm achchually Ragatha plays Cello-“ FIRSTLY there are no cellos in marching band and SECONDLY within this AU she plays flute for marching season and play cello in the orchestra for concert season :)

Jax: Trumpet -His ears go inside his shako, I’m just too lazy to edit/erase them. -Brass have gloves that have no alterations made to them. Jax’s gloves are also black. -Classic marching bibber and shoes. -Jax gives me “typical crackhead trumpet” energy and I don’t know why. Anyways there’s my reason for putting him on trumpet.

Kinger: Bass Drum And Gong (Pit/Auxiliary) -I want Kinger in this AU to give “How TF Did I Get Dragged Into This” Vibes -Pit percussion members don’t wear shakos, which is sort of cool so we can still recognize the chess piece form. -Since Kinger doesn’t have any legs, his “marching bibber” is more of just a black skirt that surrounds his body. -Pit percussion members don’t wear gloves. Which is a problem. Because Kinger is always wearing gloves. And I do not want to draw whatever is underneath those gloves. Scawy.

Stay tuned for more!! Maybe!! In the near future??? ALSO ALL SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! YOU MAY SHIP WHOEVER WITH WHOMEVER!!! AS LONG AS YOU’RE NOT A CREEP!!! YAHOO!!!

[sleepyfan-blog]

Socialization

Author’s Note: This is the next fic in Cedric’s Adventures. First. Previous. Next

This is based off of @gra93fruit-blog mentioning wanting to know what astartes’ socialization classes look like. @c-u-c-koo-4-40k allowed me to borrow Pyrus for this fic! Thank you

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: poor stress-response, ask me to tag if something bothers you

Summary: Cedric meets some visiting Luna Wolf, Space Wolf and Salamander Scouts.

Cedric was not lurking in the back of the room he’d been brought to, instead of starting his “punishment” chores for the day as he watched several Salamander Scouts enter the room, chatting excitedly with one another as they sat down on some of the astartes-sized chairs that were scattered about the room with no rhyme or reason to them that he could find. The young apothecary was merely… Observing them.

He didn’t recognise any one of the six of them, either. He’d heard chatter that one of the larger wandering loyalist warbands was passing through this city. Perhaps these scouts were part of that group? They were a noisy and boisterous bunch. Occasionally playfully shoving at each other and scrapping a little. Four Luna Wolf scouts entered the room a couple of minutes later, and they were somehow, even louder and more boisterous.

The two groups of Cousins greeted each other excitedly, each of them in scout armor and no, Cedric was not jealous that all of them had managed to come to Ancient Terra in their armor and he hadn’t, that would be ridiculous. From the patterning of each of their armor, all of them were from early M30. Post finding of their Primarchs, but long before the schism that tore the Imperium apart and caused the death of untold quadrillions and the permanent enthroning of the God Emperor. 

Four Space Wolves - also scouts - came running into the room, out of breath and looking around briefly before one of them pointed dramatically at one of the Salamander Scouts, saying “I challenge you to a spar! You have besmirched the name of our primarch and I will not let that stand!” 

“All I said was that he’s a blunt and boisterous commander! That’s not a lie or rude! It’s true.” The challenged Salamander protested.

Cedric blinked in abject confusion. The other was just challenged. He had to respond, and while he was being challenged by a fellow loyalist which meant that the fight wasn’t going to be to the death… He couldn’t possibly be trying to turn down the challenge? Then again, he might not know where the sparring rooms were, since he was new to this base. 

Before he could decide whether or not he wanted to interject, one of the Luna Wolf scouts spoke up, stepping physically between the Salamander and the Space Wolf, making a subtle hand-sign that had his fellow Luna Wolves moving in closer “How about this, Pyrus, Frengir why don’t both of you take a couple steps back and apologize for upsetting one another.”

The Salamander - probably named Pyrus - huffed a little “But I… If it gets him off my back, fine.” He was frowning a little, glaring at the Space Wolf who’d challenged him, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

The Space Wolf - likely named Frengir - growled low in his chest, his eyes narrowing at the Luna Wolf before taunting “Where’s that Blood Angel buddy of yours? I haven’t seen him anywhere near you in weeks.”

Cedric noted the way that the Luna Wolf tensed visibly, his fingers twitching a little. Still, he kept a pleasant smile on his face as he spoke “You’re deliberately trying to get an emotional rise out of me, Frengir, and it’s not going to work. Are you going to back off and apologize, or are we going to have to get a sergeant involved?”

That prompted Cedric to move forward, calling out loud enough for his voice to carry, the idea of getting a sergeant involved in a spat like this causing him to shudder internally. At best they would all be -... But that was with the Mechanicus. The Black Templars didn’t do Scouts the way most other chapters did, and would be disgusted and prone to punishment for other ways and - no. Focus! “Why should this be escalated to a superior officer? That would make… Whatever disagreement this is official.”

“Where in the fresh fuck did you come from? You’re a great big fucker, aren’t you?” Frengir swore, taking a half-step back in shock as he and the other visiting scouts looked him up and down “How come you’re not in armor? How long have you been here?”

“I came to this room first. I also arrived on Ancient Terra in my night clothes, so I am currently without armor. If you intend on pressing your challenge, I can show you to a sparring room.” Cedric responded, tucking his hands behind his back as he observed the mixed group of Astartes. He tilted his head a little, noting the tension that Frengir was holding himself “Although that may not be wise, from the way that you’re favoring your left side. Are you injured?” He took a couple of slow steps towards the fractious group, not wanting to startle anyone else more than he already had.

“Fuck, I didn’t know that was possible.” One of the other Space Wolf scouts muttered, shuddering a little “I can’t imagine being stuck without my armor permanently. I’m Janison, and Banigh is on my left. Frengir here likes sparring a lot and rolled his ankle pretty badly on his last spar earlier today. Who’re you? How do you know the layout of this base?”

“Because I’ve been living on his base for the past several months, having been found by baselines attached to one of the Ultramarines who works and lives here… Specifically I’ve been confined to base for most of it, and haven’t been able to explore Ancient Terra much. What’s it like?” Cedric explains, in good humor. 

“... What did you do to get confined to base?” One of the Luna Wolves asks curiously.

“I tackled a Heretical Traitor who was actively dripping soul-twisting poison from some of his natural weapons and handled him roughly as I taped jars to the living weapons so he wouldn’t leak everywhere.” Cedric responded, still irritated by that. Still, it wasn’t his place to question his punishments, as confusing as they were on Ancient Terra.

“... A what now?” All of the scouts asked simultaneously, blinking in utter and genuine confusion on their faces. 

“A heretical traitor. Specifically a Slaaneshi-worshiping bastard.” Cedric answered earnestly, confused by their confusio-... Wait. “What time period do you come from?”

“What’s a Slaanesh?” Asked one of the Salamanders “Oh! My name is Hestius, by the way. What’s your name? Also which legion are you from? All of us Salamanders came from just after Primarch Lupercal became Warmaster.”

“Father becomes warmaster?” One of the Luna Wolves echo, and all of them beam in delight at that. “We were just about to depart for the campaign against the Interex.”

The Space Wolves shift and pace before Frengir says “We were going to accompany Father and our older brothers to Prospero. To bring the Crimson King to Terra.”

Cedric clenches his hands behind his back tightly, feeling his nails bite into the flesh of his hand and bleed before his superior healing ability repairs the damage. Still, the brief scent of blood and the way he tenses visibly at the name attracts all of the scouts attention. “My name is Cedric.” Says Cedric’s mouth “I am a Black Templar Apothecary, and I would ask you not to say that… Not to say that Primarch’s name around non-Luna Wolves and especially not around Blood Angels or their successor chapters. It will… It won’t end well. Slaanesh is one of the four False Gods of Chaos. The God of debauchery and horrid excesses and pride.”

“... Why? Does it have to do with the fact that the Blood Angels refuse to even look at any of us, much less talk or hang out or spar with us anymore? What’s a successor chapter? I don’t recognize the name of that legion.” One of the Luna Wolves asked, confusion and hurt coloring his tone.

Cedric hesitated a little, looking them over before saying “I am… I am from over ten thousand years in the future, from when you were taken. I am a son of Dorn. Much… Much changes in the Imperium in the ensuing ten thousand years. I don’t… I’m not sure if-” He remembered hearing about the one memento that the Imperial Fists had of  Lord Dorn. A single, bloodied hand inside his gauntlet. All they had of him. The bloodshed. The agony. The breaking of the legions. The Heresy. “I don’t… I don’t know if you haven’t been told because they don’t want to upset you for something you can’t change, or concerns if you… If you do somehow end up being sent back to the time… How… How long ago was the Ullanor campaign, after which your primarch was made Warmaster?”

“Less than a year ago? By the way, my name is Kox, not that you’ve asked.” The chattiest of the Luna Wolves responded, the smile on his face having faded to a sullen expression. “I’ve been lucky enough to be chosen to train directly under Captain Abbadon. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

“I’ve heard of you. But not by that name. I would refrain from speaking that name around non-Luna Wolf astartes as well.” Cedric responds, taking in a deep breath and holding it for several seconds before breathing out  just as slowly. He was resisting temptation to shift into a combat ready stance. Four first born scouts versus one primaris marine is a poor match, even if he is unarmed and unarmored - they are in light armor and don’t have any visible weapons.

It’s likely that the Space Wolves would join with him against the traitors, or stay to the side to watch the fight. The Salamanders might fight or may try and intercede, to try and keep the peace. His hands were clenched tightly behind his back as he struggled to keep his temper in check. “Perhaps a decade or two after your primarch, Luna Wolf, he leads half of the legions and his fellow primarchs in a heretical civil war that causes a tremendous amount of death and destruction. It leads to his death, the death of several of the other treacherous primarchs - and several loyal primarchs - and the permanent injury of the God Emperor of mankind.” Cedric explains, doing his best to at least pretend to be outwardly calm.

“Which… Which Primarchs die?” Pyrus asks, eyes huge, breaking the intense silence that followed Cedric’s words.

Cedric is about to answer that question when Captain Ash’val walks into the room, pausing for a moment at the door as he sees the tension in everyone’s posture and the captain clears his throat a little, causing all of the scouts to startle in surprise. “Care to explain what’s going on? You all seem rather tense.”

“They’d like to know why speaking the name Horus Lupercall and Ezekyle Abbadon is a poor idea, among other questions, sir. I was just beginning to explain the future relative to them, and the past as I know it.” Cedric answers placidly.

“That’s… Hm. That’s a heavy conversation, Cedric. And one that shouldn’t be had around so many all at once. While that information is something you grew up knowing, the shock of… Of the betrayal and the civil war hits those from before that time very hard. Next time, inform them to ask a superior officer from a further point in the timeline and try to redirect the conversation.” Ash’val instructed, walking between the stunned scouts and resting a hand lightly on one of Cedric’s shoulders.

The young apothecary is so pleased with himself that he was able to almost fully suppress the instinctual flinch when the first born marine approached him with the intent to touch. Cedric is almost convinced that Ash’val won’t raise a hand to deliberately harm or physically punish him. Salamanders are kind and soft like that… But long-ingrained instinct of far harsher trainers is difficult to overcome. “Understood, sir.” He ducked his head, shuffling his feet a little. 

“I’m not angry with you, Cedric.” Ash’val murmurs, his voice going a little sad, a little frustrated whenever he does something that distresses the older Astartes. 

Cedric tries really hard not to upset his first born brothers. Nothing good ever comes from it. “I understand that, sir.” He’s still not looking at Ash’val directly, but he dutifully informs the other that he does acknowledge that the other isn’t angry at him. But he is upset. He informs Ash’val of what he did inform the visiting scouts about the heresy - and Slaanesh - having not known he wasn’t supposed to tell them.

Ash’val sighed. “Well, they were going to learn about that sooner or later. If only from the pamphlets that the Ultramarines have created for pre-heresy marines in the off-chance they do get back to their proper time and the Heresy hasn’t happened and they have their memories of ancient terra. The.. The hope is that they can stop the heresy somehow. Or at least mitigate some of the damage.”

Cedric’s eyes went wide. He had no idea how that would go.. And the Ordo Chronos might have problems with that… Then again, he hadn’t seen any of their agents here. “I hope it works, if that’s possible.”

“As do we all, lad. Now, come along, all of you. I’m going to be teaching you a survival course on some of the more subtle dangers of Ancient Terra has.” Ash’val instructs, voice becoming firm and authoritative “Sit down as I explain the basics of baseline socialization practices.”

Cedric and the scouts all found places to sit, and the young apothecary pulled out a notebook and a pencil, in order to take notes.

[nerdieforpedro]

Watch and Learn

Part Three of Foul Play

Javier Peña x Aria Davis (plus size OFC)

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: Javier and Aria finally have their moment. It’s interrupted. Or is it used to make a statement?

Warnings: cheating, cuckholding, rough sex, fiance is still an asshole, exhibitionist behavior, mutual masturbation. unprotected P in V, creampie, happy ending because I was sappy okay?, ( may have missed some warnings but I think it covers everything. 🤔)

Word Count: a little over 1.7k

Notes: I meant to post this put was in a slump and never got around to it, if you've gotten this far in the series, thanks so much for reading! 🤗 I tried something a bit different.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Peña Masterlist/ AO3 Link

She wasn’t expecting him to be in the office. He normally is out ‘gathering intel’ but today he’s here talking to his buddies. Annoyed, Aria thinks to duck in her office quickly but gives it a second thought. Why should she? She is dressed appropriately for the office (a little more sexy than normal but still within the bounds of the workplace), why should she feel like she needs to hide herself? She didn’t dress this way for him. Sure, it was for Peña to see her, but she also felt damn good in what she was wearing. Ms. Davis walks right by their desks as the accounting office is in the back of the embassy.

Michael’s team knows his fiance, what she looks like and seems different today. They point her out to him and mention that maybe she didn’t visit yesterday because she was buying some new clothes to wear today for him. They have never seen her wear anything like that before. Michael is dumb enough to believe them and tells them that he’ll see them later as he makes his way to her office. He happened to stop and talk with one of the new temps hired until they get some more personnel in place for day to day filing and organization. She’s cute, maybe he won’t have to pay for sex next time. He might just have to buy a drink or two.

Javier notes that Michael is chatting up a woman two doors down from the accounting office where Aria is. “Ese cabrón (This bastard).” Peña curses, he’s more casual today. He didn’t plan on being in the office long, just to look through some files and then be out in the field, but plans change. He knocks on the open door, not hard but so she’ll look up at him. He’s wearing his pink (some would say tight, he would say it’s just right) shirt. Medium wash blue jeans that Javier is aware of how form fitting they are with his black leather jacket. It was an unusually cool morning on Bogata but expected to be well over ninety degrees by midday. “Buenas días. Bien color hermosa (Good morning. Good color gorgeous.)” He points to her shirt and to his. They share a small chuckle and he walks into her office, closing the door behind him, leaning over her desk and placing his palms on top of it. “Que tal? (What’s up?)”

Aria grins and sets her elbows on the desk, ensuring she not only presses her breast together but also exposes her cleavage for Javier to see. His eyes do jot down for a a few moments before returning to her face. “Nada (nothing) Agent Peña.” She bites her lips and Javier runs a finger up one of her arms. “Trying to start something?”

“Only if you’re willing querida (sweetheart). I saw your fiance around the corner Aria.” Javier points out and Aria grins wider, standing to walk around her desk and hips up to sit on it. Her skirt rides up and exposes almost all of her thighs while she removes the light sweater she’d worn. Javi’s eyebrows raise while his hand runs from her wrist up to her shoulder, then moving down her back. “What are you playing at hermosa?” Her fingers curl into one of Javier’s belt loops and pull him toward her, opening her legs, Aria closes her thighs around Javi’s waist.

“Not playing Javi.” Her nails scratch his belly and then chest as the work their way up to his neck, a few beats of sweat already present. “I thought about you after we parted ways yesterday.” She leans forward into his ear and licks it before speaking again, “I used my fingers as I thought about you taking me on my couch. Asking me if my fiance makes me come like you do. I used three of my fingers Javi.” Aria presses her heels into the desk and her clothed core twitches as does Javi’s covered cock. “It was the first time I’d come in months. You won’t let me continue to suffer like that would you?”

“I wouldn’t be much of a man if I did mi cariño (my dear). Spread wider for me.” Javi commanded and Aria did just that. Kicking her shoes off and removing her shirt. She has decided to stick with the pink theme and had on a light pink lace bra and a thong to match. Javier took a few steps back and pulled her chair around and plopped himself down. She placed her feet on his thighs to help balance herself as he took the sight in of the damn spot on her pink lace. He didn’t move his face toward her core, not yet. Aria didn’t give him a chance to, her fingers pushed aside the thin cloth and exposed her glistening folds to him.

“Fuck I’m this wet already Javi. Look.” Two fingers dipped into her entrance and she let them take over, moving in and out of herself as Peña watched with wide eyes and palming his bulge through his tight jeans. Aria added a second hand to keep herself open but paused, “Let me see you stroke that dick of yours and I’ll add a third finger like I did yesterday. Show me Javi baby.”  She adds a third finger but doesn’t move yet. Javier nods, unbuttons and unzips his jeans, dropping them to his ankles after briefly lifting up out of the chair. 

“Ven por mí (come for me).”  His heavy cock is in one hand, while his other is massaging Aria’s thigh. He lets his shaft hang for a moment while he gathers some of her nectar to smear on his member before finally moving his hand to jerk himself. She in turn, pumps her three fingers inside of herself as the knob to her office turns. The person on the other side finds the door to be locked. 

“Mostly everyone’s gone for the afternoon. She always eats lunch in here but what is that…?” Michael wonders what could be making those sounds from Aria’s office. He knows it sounds like moans and someone’s having sex but some of them sound like they’re from his fiance. “She would never, she’s too meek for that.” He scoffs at the thought, and thinks that maybe she’s watching porn in her office to get in the mood since they haven’t seen each other for a bit and missed their ‘date’ yesterday. Aria wasn’t aware he had a key to her office so he’s able to open her office door. What he sees rattles him to his core. “THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”

Aria has just climaxed with Javier Peña watching her, Javi had pulled her fingers out of her gasping hole and was rolling his tongue inside while she called his name. She had never looked or sounded like that when they had sex, nor has Michael even thought to use his mouth on her outside of her birthday. Her eyes were half open that she didn’t acknowledge his presence, but Javi stopped and turned his head briefly before pressing his tongue against her clit causing her to yelp. “Don’t stop Javi. M-More, your tongue!” Her hands were in his hair to try and keep his head in place. 

Michael was appalled that this is how she cheats on him, not only at work but with Javier Peña?! A man he was sure wasn’t interested in her at all. He’d never seen the infamous Javi with a woman that was large like Aria. 

Javier stops again and stands, keeping Aria’s gaze focused on him, “Hermosa hop down and bend over.” She complies, but he pulls her to the other side of the desk, where she’ll face Michael who has not moved but also hasn’t said another word. 

Finally, Aria sees her fiance, she smiles, “Hey Michael. Watch me enjoy a bigger dick than yours.” She places her palms flat on the desk and keeps her eyes trained on Michael who’s on the verge of tears but sporting a small bulge in his slacks. Javier spreads her legs and slips inside of her cunt easily, feeling how tight she is. 

“Mierda hermosa (shit hermosa), your fiance wasn’t treating you right at all was he?” Javi comments, slapping her ass to have her squeal. “I’ll give you something to remember Aria.” He took hold of her hips and started slowly, groaning loudly before speeding up and pulling both her arms behind her. “She’s going to milk my cock, aren’t you cariño?”

“Yes Javi! Fuck me even harder! I want to have you stained inside of me.” Aria’s beginning to drool and Michael can’t look away, he’s so disgusted but he’s never seen her look like she’s enjoying herself so much. The slaps of their hips has Michael lean against the wall still watching as his fiance keeps taking Javier’s pounding. 

“Such a good pussy for me Aria. Take it all!” Javier screams as he gives a few more pumps before spilling inside of her walls, painting them with his thick spend. The feeling of fullness, has her cunt squeeze Javi shaft of ever drop he has. She preens face down on her desk wiggling her ass, coming down from her own peak. Javier remains within her, kissing her shoulder and then her cheek, he whispers, “I can’t wait to fuck you on a bed cariño.” He then pulls himself out and adjusts her thong so too much of him won’t leak out yet. Javier pulls up his pants and helps her to stand, then grabs her bag as they walk by Michael. Aria slides off her engagement ring and put it in her former fiance's jacket pocket.

“Goodbye Michael. Lose your key unless you want to see Javi spread me open again.” Wobbling a bit, she walks down the hallway to Javier by her side steadying her gait.

That was the last time Aria saw Michael outside of the office. He only told people that they had gone their separate ways, never what had happened that day. People in the office didn’t figure out that Aria had left Michael for Javier until the two of them started coming in the office together. 

Javier was more than happy to keep Aria by his side, in his office and in hers. He enjoyed that she was willing to try different places and positions with him. More than that, he was happiest when she moved into his apartment, finally making it a place he wanted to come back to.

Peeps who might be three fingers deep (So wrong for this joke 🤣):

@syd-djarin @magpiepills @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @indiegirlunited

@guelyury @yorksgirl @readingiskeepingmegoing @fhatbhabiee @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@javierpena-inatacvest

Part Three

[terrors-and-tables]

Strange Encounters #1

Damn it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything on this blog. Having just run my first game of Dungeon Crawl Classics (to my players who might be reading this, love you guys), I’ve realized that DCC is in need of more monsters; or rather, it’s in need of monsters repurposed from things I enjoy, including other games. That sent me spiraling down the rabbit hole of reading through the original 1e AD&D Monster Manuals and Fiend Folio, meticulously cataloging the monsters and treasure types, cursing Gary Gygax’s lack of consistency regarding how individual treasure versus “in lair” treasure is formatted, and once more appreciating what the RPG community can do, even forty years in the future, as the Fiend Folio (which is mostly a compiled list of monsters from the UK Magazine “White Dwarf”) is pretty consistently written when it comes to formatting at least.

That then led me to admiring the encounter tables in the DM’s Guide, and the use of overland encounters and treasure maps as a sort of perpetual motion machine for quest generation. Don’t need to have some haggard old man deliver a little monologue and beg for your players to help them when those greedy bastards are looting treasure maps (with more overland encounters between them and the treasure, not to mention whatever monster lair or crypt the treasure is in) and coming across pilgrimages of cultists out in the dangerous wilds.

Which brings me to my final point, that the encounter table format in the back of the 2nd Monster Manual is actually quite nice, and I felt inspired to make one today. The monsters given are for 1st edition D&D, but many of them exist in other editions of D&D, retroclones, and other fantasy games, so it shouldn’t be impossible, or even difficult, to repurpose this for your own use.

To use the following chart, just roll 1d8 and add it to 1d12, creating a large flat spot of probability in the middle of the chart, ensuring those results will be equally common

Caverns, Primeval

Roll Monster

2 Medusa

3 Demon, Type I (Vrock)

4 Ant, Giant

5 Beetle, Giant Fire

6 Norker

7 Grimlock

8 Ochre Jelly

9 Lizard, Minotaur (80%), or Protein Polymorph (20%)

10 Caveman

11 Troglodyte

12 Centipede, Huge

13 Black Pudding or Zombie

14 Gray Ooze

15 Xorn or Centipede, Giant

16 Ghoul

17 Caveman (Hero) 70% or Grimlock (Villain) 30%

18 Slime, Olive

19 White Pudding

20 Dragon, White, AN

The table above is meant for a large system of caves somewhere so remote as to be totally unsettled, and even untouched by time. Where early humankind dwells in caves, dwarves have not expanded into every nook and cranny, and the elves do not tread. Specifics and further detail on each kind of encounter are as follows:

The Medusa, likely just one, though if the caverns are truly huge enough there may be multiple, exists to answer the question of where humans get their primal fear and distrust of serpents from; it is from her, the serpentine witch that turns men to stone with a hiss and a fatal glance. The Medusa would no doubt be a known (or rumored) terror of the caves to those cavemen who live nearby.

The Type 1 Demon (the Vrock) is on the chart solely as a servant of the Grimlocks or Troglodytes detailed below, likely conjured to wage war or to serve as a guardian for something precious or of religious significance. They do not live here naturally, and will never come to such a place of their own accord.

Giant Ants have not yet overtaken the primal caves, but as some of the oldest insects, they’ve certainly gotten a head start; where they are found at all, they are found in tremendous numbers. Similar things may be said of the Giant Fire Beetles, which do not form groups quite so large, but work in natural opposition to the ants. The centipedes, of which there are many in all sorts of sizes, colors, and shapes, are kings of the cavernous arthropods, and will happily eat both.

Norkers are one of the only two humanoid races besides Humans (next to the Troglodytes). As written in the Fiend Folio, they are a primitive relative to the hobgoblin in much the same way Cavemen or Neanderthals are to humankind.

The Grimlocks that appear on this table are not actually their own species, rather they are those cavemen who in desperation, greed, or sheer malice have found acceptance in the waiting arms of Abyssal powers or Chaos lords, and among them can be found more advanced arms (such as swords and axes of strange material) and armor (no heavier than scale mail) as well as Chaotic (or Chaotic Evil) Clerics and Magic Users. “Villains” may occasionally be found, which will have the best arms and armor available to the tribe, 4 hit dice, and the spellcasting abilities of 3rd level Wizards (or Magic-Users, Shamans, or Elves), as well as a 10% chance to have a magical melee weapon (generate as if it were a magic sword, but it may be a sword, axe, mace, or spear).

The Minotaur Lizards on this table are huge, pale, broad headed lizards which creep through the caverns, eating whatever they can fit into their gullets, be it bug or man. They are plentiful enough, however, that the exceptionally brave (such as large groups of cavemen) may hunt them for food.

Perhaps more plentiful are the Protein Polymorphs, Ochre Jellies, Black or White puddings, Olive Slimes, and Gray Oozes, found all throughout the caverns amidst the many puddles of bubbling, gurgling, proto-biological crud, the primordial soup from which life emerged. Because of the frequency of such foul puddles (many of which are not such slimes), any slime encountered doubles any chance for surprise (I.E. it surprises on a 4 in 6 for most parties, 2 in 6 for those with elves, etc.). Protein Polymorphs are an outlier beside the other slimes, being dangerously clever, and capable of changing their shape and dividing their mass to appear as all manner of inanimate objects or even entire groups of creatures.

Cavemen are cavemen, it’s not that complicated. Heroes exist among them, the biggest and strongest, with up to 4+2 hit dice and saving as 6th level Fighters. These will no doubt have cavemen followers, their friends, companions, and caveman groupies.

Troglodytes exist even in ancient caves as these, and any encountered here will be marginally smarter and well equipped, perhaps these haven’t fallen as far as their more mainstream counterparts; they still bear the same stench, but are 10% more likely to possess magic items and may even have works of writing, magic, or textile art, though these will be crafted without any use for human language or aesthetics, and will thus be alien to those who find them.

Xorn, oddly enough, are plentiful compared to other places on the Prime Material. With only the fading Troglodytes as enemies, and no local industry, expansionist dwarves or modern humans, or need for currency, precious metals and gems are incredibly plentiful, so the xorn flock here to swim through stone, gorge themselves, and sometimes give strange wisdom to those who can understand it.

Ghouls and Zombies appear more often in areas controlled by the Grimlocks, as foul energies flood the caverns and animate the dead that lie there, but the ghouls in particular appear in the same way they usually do; as the result of humanoids resorting to cannibalism in the cold and lightless tunnels.

The Ancient White Dragon will always be the only one of its kind; how and when it got there, not even the Troglodytes can guess, but the weirdest and wisest (if they can be called that) of the Grimlocks may know. Regardless, it has slept here for quite a while, slumbering at the heart of a subterranean expanse of ice and stone, with cruel, simple deathtraps to guard its hoard.

I hope the above encounter table and implied adventuring location is of use to anyone. I might post more in the future :)

[randomstoryenjoyer]

Hello!

I’d like to welcome you to writing x readers! I hope you have fun while doing so, and remember to take care of yourself!!

If you would like to, would you be okay with writing for Financier Cookie (CRK) x reader (GN), where the reader is really short and just a small person in general? And they like to occasionally wear heels and stacks and other shoes to make them seem taller.

Hope you have a good day! And again, welcome!!

(Here it is, the first ask of my blog. Hope you enjoy and thank you for the request!)

Financier Cookie x Short Reader

When Financier Cookie first met you, she actually mistook you for a little young cookie, asking if you were lost and where your home was. Cue one awkward conversation later, and she’s left feeling shocked and also partially embarrassed.

Soon enough, her initial surprise turns into slight concern. You had spoken to her as if was a common occurrence to you, getting mistaken for a kid due to being such a short cookie. She’ll begin wondering if you ad ever faced any hardships from other cookies due to your size. Were you made fun of often? Did other cookies not take you seriously?

All these thoughts in her head eventually lead to her seeking you out on her own whenever she’s off from her main paladin duties. You soon became a bit confused as to why she was always seemingly nearby you, but you decided not to worry about it. Financier Cookie’s reputation in the Crème Republic was nothing to scoff at, after all!

As the connection between you two continuously grew, Financier Cookie began to see her time with you as another task for her Paladin duty. She’s always claiming it’s for your safety and for making sure your days in the Republic were pleasant, despite what some of her ulterior motives might say…

Despite being such a short cookie in general, your personality and disposition are often cheerful and outgoing. Your determination to enjoy your life to the fullest despite the difficulties you face due to your height is something she really admires. This also leads her to discovering one of your occasional habits…

Your tendency to wear high heels or stacks is something she now enjoys seeing too. She’s always making sure that you feel taller than ever when you have them on, sometimes leaning down to you so you can reach the same height as her just to see you smile more. If her Paladin wear allowed it, she’d totally be wearing heels too.

To her, no matter how what type of shoe you wear, it always manages to perfectly fit your whole cute look. Once in a while, you’ll even find a gift or two left for you that consists of a high-heeled or stack shoe with the paladin or republic emblem on it. It makes Financier Cookie feel content whenever she sees you wearing them and walking alongside her.

It truly has started to become difficult to keep her professional and calm demeanour whenever she spent time with you. Your personality, coupled with your height are one of the only things that cause her to loosen up with her formality, replacing it with a normal, more calm demeanour that she’s starting to like having as well when she’s spending time with you.

Anytime you ever do happen to feel a bit insecure or self-conscious about your size, she’s always there to comfort and reassure you that your height is not a negative aspect of you for you’re perfect just the way you are, her voice often slipping up and becoming more affectionate than her usual formal self. If anybody ever dares to make fun of you for your size, she’s always more than happy to let her sword do the talking and reasoning…

She thanks the Divine light for having had the chance to meet you, someone who’s both so adorably small and so wonderfully unique in the Crème Republic. As odd as it might seem, the constants urge to protect and socialise with you is something she doubts she can live without at this point…

[nebbynebbu]

Heyo! To anyone who follows me and that I'm not friends with: I'm still very much alive! Just going through some stuff right now that I'm not going to disclose. I'm just taking a break from certain things in general, might just reblog stories that I'm reading or thoughts from other friends (or blogs), but ye, I'm doing alright! I'll just share one of the thoughts I had these days, I have been a bit more active on the Discord server than here. 𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪 Pred going around their day as the prey rests inside of them... especially on weekends, they are not busy nor have any responsibilities that day (other than daily chores), both just want to feel the other close... one is sleepy, not wanting to deal with the confusing world, nothing will reach them, they are surrounded by someone they love, it's a different embrace and they love every part of it. The pred giving assuring pats, occasionally rubbing their belly and poking right where the prey is, just that little acknowledgement. Bonus points if they both need each other close, a mutual feeling of "I want to feel you closer" and "I want to be with you, inside or out.", comforting them while also being comforted by the weight in their middle. That small form that cherish and trust them with their whole being... everything feels scary, but they are together now, neither wants to let go of the other. They are right there... inside of them, right there... all around them. "Sometimes you need comfort food, sometimes you comfort the food." is nice but what if both parties need and want that comfort? 𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪 Mutual comfort in scenarios are a wonderful thing especially if it's paired with little to not conversation or completely non-verbal It's a wondrous thing to imagine being held close by someone I love when going to sleep or taking naps. It's unfortunate how it isn't possible but - just the feeling, the small request despite not being able to do the actual thing, the pretend that somehow is still able to calm me down. I don't know, just been thinking about it helping both parties, easing their anxiety, the company surpassing the need to verbalize. 𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪 Giants… mini-giants… half-size, nose snuggles, face cuddles, a not too cramped stomach for the prey, but one that still gives a visible bump that something, someone is in there, making anyone who notices either amused or afraid, not that the giant would let anyone (unless friends) approach the person resting in their middle. Just the right size for both parties, a comforting space for the prey to lay their head on the wall or just curl up inside. A weight that satiates, but doesn't make the pred uncomfortably full, making them able to go through their day and chores. Mini-giants, that's all. 𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪   𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪  𓆩✧𓆪 There is just something about different takes on G/t interactions (be it art or writing) who are able to demonstrate the gentle aspect of it so well. The giant's hand handling the tiny so tenderly, but I very much enjoy the opposite, when the small one is taking care of a sick Giant, bringing them food, meds, making so many travels back and forth, but it's all worth it, just so they can see their big friend doing alright. On the more cuddly side: Tiny seeking warmth, hugging the giant's fingers and being so close to their face, resting as they both give up to the already hanging eyelids.

[notcaycepollard]

I just saw your Barbie jacket and fell in love, such beautiful work!

I want to get into sewing but have no idea where to start, do you have any tips?

Yes! FYI, I had the privilege of learning to sew at a really young age, around 10-12, thanks to 1) learning the basics from my mum 2) having a second-hand sewing machine I could futz around on as I pleased. But I truly think anyone can learn to sew, it does not have to be a childhood skill.

If you want to try it out before committing to buying anything except fabric, there are almost always community or adult education classes or courses that can teach you basics on their machines. Depends where you live but you might find them through your local community college or high school night class, library, YMCA/community centre, or even by asking at a fabric/craft store.

I highly recommend taking a couple of classes if you're a complete beginner - they can teach things like laying out and cutting patterns, threading a machine, the basic stitch and finishing options, etc. Often they can also teach you how to use your own machine, if you've bought one but you're a beginner.

If you want to try at home, at minimum you will need:

A basic sewing machine - you can very often find good second-hand machines online (ebay, craigslist, local buy/sell Facebook pages). Mine is a Janome and I've had it for almost 20 years, but the old 70s steel Singer machines are fantastic in terms of longevity.

A pair of reasonably sharp fabric scissors. You do not need to pay a million dollars for the best scissors, but going up a level from basic craft scissors, and keeping them only for cutting fabric (no paper) will make your cutting-out experience a lot easier.

A packet of sewing pins. For pinning down patterns and seams. I like the glass-head pins since they don't melt if you iron over them.

A tape measure for measuring yourself and checking your seam width, hems, etc.

An iron and ironing board (or table with a thick towel laid down, if space is a real problem).

A flat surface to lay out and cut your fabric - dining table or floor both work fine.

A needle for hand-sewing - to sew on things like buttons.

A box of empty bobbins to wind your bobbin thread onto.

In terms of patterns - there are a huge range of indie pattern companies online now (meaning they're not the big commercial patternmakers like Butterick). Most often, you can buy their patterns as a PDF and print it out on your home computer. In all honesty I much prefer indie patterns to commercial - they're often a lot more up to date with style, and usually not as expensive - but they can also be limited in terms of sizing, the range of style options, and some people really like a printed paper pattern instead of having to print your own. I recommend Papercut Patterns as an indie option that's great for beginners.

Indie instructions can also sometimes be a bit confusing (I find Etsy patterns the worst for this) although often you can email them and ask - or Google "[name of pattern] sew along" for a video tutorial. You can also find step by step video or blog post tutorials for pretty much every sewing technique, including things like putting in a zip, sewing buttonholes, etc.

Once you've picked your pattern, you'll obviously need fabric. There are a million people online who espouse the virtue of sewing with old bedsheets from thrift stores; in all honesty I don't love doing this because 1) I get a huge amount of joy from beautiful fabrics 2) if you want to make things that look 'professional'/store-bought, bedsheet cotton is not always your best friend. BUT it is probably the cheapest option for fabric, and a very good way to start or to test that a pattern fits and you know how to make it before you cut it out in the nice linen that cost $30 a yard. Using thrifted fabric is also obviously really eco-conscious, although a lot of fabric stores (especially independent ones vs chain stores like Spotlight or Joann) make a point of selling 'deadstock' fabric - fabric leftover from a clothing designer's run.

That's probably enough to start, honestly just fuck around and have fun with it, screw up a few times, lean into the imperfection. I still regularly scrap projects that aren't working for me, no shame in doing so as long as you're enjoying yourself!

[sysmedsaresexist]

This may be overstepping my bounds or you may not want to talk about this on this blog and if so please feel free to just delete this ask but on the chance this is alright here I have a question or two.

In the recent posts about Colin Ross and other professionals you've mentioned your 'professional circle' or your colleagues being therapists and it sounds like you work in the mental health field? If you do I'm just curious if you'd be willing to talk about that at all?

That's rather vague but I've been thinking about going into the mental health field and I'm curious what that might actually look like especially as someone with trauma.

This must be really odd if I've misunderstood what you've said, or uncomfortable if this just isn't something you want to talk about, and either way I know it's not really similar to what you normally post here so I'm sorry. Whether or not you respond though thank you for reading through this. I hope you have a good day.

I don't mind talking about it! I don't particularly enjoy talking about myself, but I have no issue sharing most information like this.

I do not currently work in the mental health field and I have never been licensed.

Like most of us, I'm sure, I was one of those "gifted" kids. I finished high school early with a several year scholarship, and fast tracked through 4 degrees.

My first degree was in social services and counselling. I worked in the field for about a year as a requirement for my education. In Canada, we have satellite schools for "troubled youth", and one was run out of a high school near me, so I counselled and provided support for about 30 students.

However, I was only 18/19 myself, and I was VERY OBVIOUSLY too traumatized to be working in the field. Some of the students were older than I was, and the things I heard and saw, the students that acted out violently that were twice my size...

I wasn't ready. My supervisor at the time, a woman in her 50s, told me, "In a field like this... you can't help others until you've helped yourself."

So I graduated, but switched into law. I wanted to work with those same youth, but maybe from a legal perspective (there were always police and lawyers involved). I finished my legal degree, took two more legal/business management and administration courses, became licensed, and worked for a few years in that field.

I really wasn't happy, though, as a woman and being so young, unless I wanted to start my own business, I was going to continue to face a bunch of condescending, old white men calling me, "high-school," because I don't drive and carry a backpack to and from work.

I work in sales now, making more money than I had ever hoped for, and for a company that is really, really good to its employees. I'm really happy where I ended up, though it was kind of a fluke. I voluntarily relinquished my legal license a couple of years ago because there's zero point in paying $2k a year in upkeep when I'm not going to use it.

Point is, though, I've kept in contact with a number of people in both the legal and sw field. My first therapist and I developed a bit of a weird relationship (not bad) but I was able to go to her on several occasions to talk as colleagues, not just client/therapist. I'm still in touch with her and occasionally reach out for questions. She gave me the info of a couple other specialists, of which I spoke to two of them.

I don't drop these names because it would really narrow down where I am, but on top of Colin Ross and Kymbra Clayton, I've also spoken with Marich, Loewenstein, I've tried to talk to the CTAD clinic, uhhh... Sunshaw is pretty open about her opinions. I'm trying to think of some other big names.

On the second part of this question...

Once you have a handle on your own trauma, you can be very, very successful in the mental health field. You have a unique perspective that can really help others.

It was an amazing experience, and I wish I had been older. I wish I had been through multiple therapists at that point, to see how others behaved. Being in therapy yourself is such an important step that no one talks about.

Trauma fatigue is a real thing that beats people in the field down into nothing. You'll hear every therapist say, "make sure you have your own therapist," and everyone nods their head but never actually goes to therapy. It's not just good for your own mental health, sitting on the other side of that chair can be terrifying and it's important for therapists to remember what that feeling is like, and to see how other clinicians handle clients. What do you like that they do? What do you hate? What are you not going to do with your next client?

You would be shocked to learn how many clinicians out there actually have DID! It's possible and highly rewarding. Just take your time and make sure you're actually ready for it.

There's no age limit on changing careers or going into a new field. Go slow, and take care of yourself first. Then you can be the best resource for others.

I hope that answers both questions <3