#ive expressed the entire human experience

[orcelito]

Like OK so I've been reading a fic with trans wolfwood in it that is so. HONEST. About how it affected him and still affects him. In a way that's very much not an average cis writer portrayal of a trans character.

Like. Either this writer is trans or did plenty of research, but it just feels REAL to me. And it has me thinking about my own way of writing trans Wolfwood.

I'm not there yet. But I've been thinking about it. The ways that what the EOM did fucked him up... but it also acted as HRT that affirmed his gender. So what do you do when you're in a body you don't recognize, but looks much more like a man than ever before? There's some gender euphoria in a way, but dysphoria at the same time bc you didn't grow into this. You didn't watch yourself transition. Suddenly you just Were this, and it's not you, but also it's nice to finally be seen as a man, but it also feels wrong to feel grateful for any part of what they did to you...

On and on and on

You see? This is what I want to think about with him. This is why trans Wolfwood is so compelling to me. It's just so Complicated, he'd have such Complicated feelings about his body and the way he lives with it. He learns this new body, it starts to feel more like his, but he also mourns the fact that he didn't get to watch it grow into this like he should've.

That kind of thing.

[stardust-moth]

looking at some takes on characters or relationships or scenes in which things happen between them and just thinking,

How in the hell are people interpreting it this way??? But then i step back and realize that the story or character in question is fundamentally and extraordinarily different from the average person's life experience and I go,

ah,

you guys just... don't have a deep enough understanding of trauma responses...

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ first time ｡o♡⋆˚｡⋆.

read part 1: here!!!

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: caring for a bunny seemed harder than you thought

tags: 「SFW! fluff! (ik the title is misleading but i promise this is all fluff!) | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | soft!lee know (he's even cuter in this one) | hyper lee know>< | bunny bath time! | the neediest bunny ever | another sweet little kiss! | reader has no gender���

word count: 1.7k

a/n: back at it again! ik ive said it so many times throughout my blog but im truly thankful for all the likes and reblogs(◞‸◟)♡ this will not be the last of my bunny lee know endeavor but stay tuned for more hybrid, skz, and kpop stories in the meantime! also keep in mind that ive never owned any pets so the animal behavior is based on memory of things ive seen online, dont come for me pls>< anyways, i hope this one lives up to the hype of the first part, enjoy!!! (also i apologize for not posting sooner><)

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

a few days in and the days seemed to get harder and harder for you. not because minho was causing you any trouble, but because the fluttery feeling in your stomach kept growing the more you spent time with him. it was scary how perfect he was in every way.

you were sitting on your couch enjoying a nice hot drink, when the familiar sound of thumping on the wood floor caught your attention. you looked down to find a playful bunny minho. he was scurrying around your feet, even moving his paws to your legs.

"what's wrong?" you set your drink down on the table in front of you.

minho kept on pawing at your legs. you reached down to pick him up, placing him in your lap.

"i can't understand you when you're in the form, you know?"

he looked up at you with a nonchalant expression, you expected nothing out of him. before you knew it, you had a hybrid minho sitting in your lap bridal style, hands wrapped around your neck. the weight and size change startled you, but he loved to tease you and transform whenever he pleased.

"can i please go outside for a bit?" he was really bouncy and sounded out of breath. you had to remind yourself that he was a wild animal. although you took him in to stay in your house, his animal instincts couldn't be suppressed.

"okay, but only for a little-" he cut your sentence off by changing back into a bunny, still knocking you off guard.

he scurried off your lap and towards the back hallway, scratching at the door for you to open it. he looked back at you with those big dark eyes. they always sparkled perfectly in the right lighting. seeing him being all hyper as an animal was truly so endearing. you've always wanted someone like him in your life. the universe definitely planned out your lives to be intertwined.

you rolled your eyes from his fast movements and got up. the second you opened the door wide enough for him to fit, he dashed out onto the grass. it has still been snowy for the past couple of days, but today the grass held a light layer of snow from earlier that day.

he was hopping around the entire yard, sniffing around bushes, chewing on some of the obtainable food he could get his mouth on. you could see the footprints and tracks beginning to circle around the snow. the whole surface of your yard was being fully inspected by him.

you couldn't help but sit down by the steps of your back porch. hugging your knees in admiration, you followed minho's path all throughout the whole time you were out there. you couldn't help but get flustered about the racing thoughts in your mind. something as simple as watching him be comfortable in his environment made you feel at ease.

what you didn't know was minho found himself wanting to be human more for the both of you. it was exhausting for him at times, but he couldn't help but laugh with you, smile with you, feel with you. he never got to experience these moments with anyone before. he wanted each adventure with you to last for hours.

he looked up to find you staring at him, which made his heart race faster than it normally should. draining energy fast, he flopped on his back, waving his paws and feet in the air. getting a chuckle out of you from the distance, he felt satisfied. the sudden urge to dig overwhelmed his thoughts, getting back to his feet and digging straight down from where he was standing.

luckily, you had your mind to distract you from his actions. he started to go feral, getting the dirt and snow all over his face.

drifting away from your daydream, you found your white fluffy bunny turning brown from the dirt and snow.

"minho, no!" you quickly ran over to him, making him realize he was likely in big trouble. thinking two steps ahead, he dove out of your attempt to grab him. shocked and stunned, you still chased after him. he was running steadily back towards the house. the universe was on your side though, as the back door was closed and all minho could do was try to reach up and grab the handle. however, being in his small form, he failed miserably.

"cmon silly," you bent down to grab the squirming animal in your arms, the warmth from your body making him docile and shut down.

once you got to the bathroom upstairs, you gently set minho on the floor. his eyes were slowly closing and he tried his best to keep them open again. before he could fall asleep, he jolted himself awake, which unfortunately turned him into his hybrid form.

"do you want me to take my clothes off so you can bathe me?"

his question made you whip your head around in shock, stuttering nonsense to try and distract yourself from the image of himself being naked in front of you.

"dont be difficult... turn into a bunny so i can wash you quickly."

he let out a small whine, almost like it was his plan all along to get dirty and have this scenario go his way.

you crossed your arms and gave him a dissatisfied look. you weren't really mad at him, you just wanted the day to end quicker so you two could snuggle in bed together.

one big movement turned him small again, he hopped onto your legs, as you had knelt down to get comfortable. you turned on the water in your bathtub and ran some warm water about two or three inches from the bottom. placing him inside the tub, you grabbed a cup to scoop up the water onto his body. the first rinse was quick, he even shook some water off himself like a dog which made you smile.

the scrubbing process also went by fast, working your fingers gently through his coat, the dirt coming off completely. you picked up the cup again, filling it with water. washing the soap away, he shook his body again, trying to dry up as fast as he could.

"calm down minho! ill dry you off in a second."

the water beginning to flow down the drain, you picked up a sopping wet minho from the tub and placed him on the rug next to you. the towel to dry him was hanging on the side of the tub. you laid it flat against your lap, picking him up again and placing him on top of the towel.

you wrapped him up in the towel, trying your best not to cover up his face. you patted and rubbed the cloth into his body, making sure to cover all the spots. his ears, his tail, and his paws all becoming dry and fluffy again.

he hopped off of your lap, turning to his hybrid form. this time you expected something from that big of a leap. you were starting to learn and master his behaviors. he was sat on the floor facing you. for some reason, his hair and ears were still wet in this form. he held one of his ears out, squeezing it to wring out the remaining water off himself. you got to your knees and threw the towel over his head. going a little harder this time, you scrubbed his hair dry to the best of your ability. you noticed him closing his eyes in comfort, especially when you got to his ears.

he looked up at you through his messy hair. he hummed softly, he was so happy you were taking such good care of him. not noticing at all, when you removed the towel his bunny ears went away. he was noticeably more dry and your job was done. you turned around slightly to drape the towel on the tub again.

he let out a cute yawn, so ready to flop into bed and get some sleep. when you turned back around you couldn't help but notice some brown specks on his face. did he have freckles this whole time and you were just too star struck to notice? you reached out to rub his face, making him freeze and have his full semi-conscious attention to your actions. the specks turned to brown streaks against his skin.

"youve been digging so much in the dirt, come here."

he scooted over to you, patiently waiting for anything to happen next. you realized now his nose and cheeks were lightly covered in dirt. you reached over for a new towel and quickly turned the faucet on to run some water on it. swiping the warm cloth on his cheeks, his face became very pink. you didn't know if it was because of the pressure you applied to his face, or if he was actually having some emotional reaction to this.

his gaze was so sensual, almost like his mind had gone to mush and he could only display emotions of pure submission. his thoughts became chaotic, trying to resist the urge to tackle you and have you all to himself.

after a while you could feel your face burning up, scared about any of his next moves or words.

"why are you looking at me like that?" the dirt was almost gone. you moved closer to his face, only inches away in order to get the last bits off.

minho didn't answer you, instead he stared more intensely at you, patiently waiting for you to finish. putting the towel down, you gently rubbed the wetness off his face. even more skin to skin contact was making him lose control. the hue of pink showing from his face becoming almost cartoon like.

"mm tired," his eyes began to droop again. he wanted his last conscious thought to be that he was secure next to you. as dramatic as ever, he laid out his body in your lap, slowly beginning to drift off and finally recharge.

this feeling was starting to become a natural occurrence in your daily lives. whether he was a small bunny, a cute hybrid, or a human who could actually sweep you off your feet, you had him. he felt safe around you and wanted to be near you. using one hand to meet his hand, rubbing it gently to soothe him, you used your other hand to play with his hair. even as a human, he was still soft and cuddly. you bent down to place a small kiss on his head, making him nuzzle himself deeper into you.

part 3 is up! click here!!!

♥︎taglist: @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lunathewonyoungstan @syedazarintasnim @yourlocalstayyxi @mmarusa @yukichan67 @qwonyoung23 @cupidcures @verynormalsstuff @leezanetheofficial

© nmn-yty ★ 6.07.2024

[thewertsearch]

GT: Well ive thought about it. GT: Even went downstairs to check the great vaulty doodad. GT: And predictably the infernal contraption is nowhere to be found. TT: Well yeah, Jake. TT: That's sort of the point. TT: Thrill of the hunt and all.

Ok, I think I get what's going on here.

Jake's Dreambot is probably the last remaining source of uranium on the entire island, and the AR is turning its retrieval into a game of hide-and-seek.

I'm not sure why Jake hadn't already retrieved this particular chunk of uranium, especially since he has no use for the robot himself. Maybe he was keeping it operational for sentimental reasons?

TT: I thought you liked to manicure the image of a dude who shits his pants over a good adventure. […] GT: I mean i wouldnt put it in a way like that or come out against a solid policy of clean trousers. But yes adventure is awesome. GT: I just prefer the idea of adventures which i can actually win.

Jake's picturing a LIVING GRANDSON SMACKDOWN - and, frankly, so am I. That robot's being piloted by an absurdly advanced AI, and I'm pretty sure Jake doesn't have any combat experience.

Winning, in this case, is shorthand for 'waiting for the AR to take pity on you'.

TT: It seems there is a 76.10395784% chance you are pussying out on me. Are you pussying out on me, Jake?

Now, to be fair, that one would only work if Jake had agreed to this challenge beforehand. After all, you can't pussy out of something you never pussied into.

GT: It seems it seems it seems!!! GT: It seems there is a million percent chance that you say it seems way too much and do it just to sound more like a lame robot from a movie and also probably just to piss me off! […] TT: Have you ever stopped to think that while I may be bound to processes inside the glasses of a real and incredibly cool guy, my algorithms in cognitive totality comprise a conscious entity not far short of the experiential and emotional complexity of a human being? GT: Oh malarkey. GT: YOU ARE A TIN CAN. ROBOTS DONT HAVE FEELINGS.

Jake, it's been sixty seconds since you complained about him pretending not to have feelings.

TT: I do have feelings. And you're shitting on them. TT: It sucks. GT: Oh. GT: Um. GT: Im sorry then if thats the case.

Well, that's something, at least - but I don't think Jake really understands why the AR is offended, so I'm worried it's just going to happen again in their next argument.

How long has the Responder existed for, anyway? Jake seems familiar with his schtick, so he's probably not brand-new - but at the same time, Jake's surprised apology makes it sound like the AR has only recently started to express feelings.

Maybe the AR has existed for years, but hasn't been sentient for years. Like, it really did just start as a primitive response script, but Bro kept uploading more of his personality onto it, until it slowly began to think and feel. Fascinating idea, I have to say.

GT: It can just be difficult to drum up sympathy for a program that presents itself as an impostor so often. GT: Maybe if you werent so ready to insist you were the genuine article all the time? Or didnt make it so confusing for me… GT: I think it would be best if we henceforth treated you as a totally distinct… uh… THING from my buddy.

Hey, it's not like the AR can stop imitating Bro. Even if he wanted to have his own identity, he's currently bound to the response script of someone else's Pesterchum account. When he talks, he's forced to do it through Bro's handle.

All evidence points to the Responder being a thinking, feeling being with his own inner world - which makes it a little ethically dubious to force him to be Bro's secretary. The guy shouldn't be treated as a bargain-bin Bro, the same way that Davesprite wasn't a backup Dave. We all saw how that ended, and it sure wasn't pretty.

[snapscube]

do you think someone can say they like a game without ever having played it? like through watching lets plays they decide they like a game for whatever reason (story, art direction, whatever).

this is related to FF14. or not. idk.

This question has been in my mind for a while as somebody whose favorite story is from a video game ive never ACTUALLY played lol

i think if you’ve ever had a positive opinion on a game through secondhand experience you should be arrested and then put on trial cause like how dare you enjoy one major facet of a game that is almost entirely delivered through non-interactive cutscenes anyway. the only difference between you and the person playing the cutscene themselves is that one of you is clicking through the dialogue with the mouse button. which of course logically means that your experience was fake and gay and you have no media literacy and reading isn’t fundamental after all. the simplest way to talk about media you haven’t experienced firsthand while also making sure you don’t offend gatekeepers (god’s most important fans) is that you always overtly qualify your experiences and deny yourself any ability to express earnestness. it’s much more important to be a real fan than it is to be a human being. repeat this to yourself in the mirror every morning.

[officialspec]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

first off i hate this ask and i think youre a freak. in any other world i wouldve blocked you for this but unfortunately for both of us i actually like this type of philosophy. dont send this shit to anyone else though

i dont think its right to compare human sexuality to the same thing in animals, to get that out of the way. im sure until a certain point it comes from the same biological impulses, but human beings have way more complicated social structures and reasons for coupling that just do not exist in other animals. our social behaviours are what make us unique in the animal kingdom and that definitely extends to gender and sexuality. so theres that

people love to tout 'gender is a social construct' around like its a criticism in and of itself, which i think betrays a misunderstanding about social constructs in general. theyre the foundations we build language on to better understand each other, and affected by a whole host of cultural and historical factors. just because theyre subjective and complicated doesnt mean they arent real. in terms of the effect they have on peoples lives they may be the most real thing that exists

for example, 'kindness' is a social construct. the definition and ways it is enacted differ greatly across personal and cultural lines. but no one would ever suggest a world where kindness doesnt exist or loses meaning, because its an essential part of the way we interact with each other (in the same way i dont really see a world where gender entirely ceases to exist, mainly just one where people have more fun with it. im not a psychic though so who knows)

similarly, sexuality in humans is another social construct. i think the driving biological forces behind it are very real, but the labels people attach to those impulses are subjective attempts to express their inner world to the people around them if that makes sense. and those same biological impulses are ALSO subject to social ideas of gender, because those ideas are established at birth and reinforced over a persons entire lifetime

to use myself as an example, im a gay trans man. ive identified as other things in the past, because i was trying to pick apart feelings i had and express them to others in an attempt to find community. my identity might change as i get older and experience new things, or it might not. i identify as gay because im not attracted to the social concept of women, and someone i would otherwise be attracted to might lose all appeal after i find out they fall under that concept (this has happened before w transfems pre and post coming out lol)

of course, the real REAL answer to this is that trying to give queer identities rigid and objective definitions is a fools errand, and also lame as fuck. someone might identify as gay and be more attracted to general masculinity than men as a social category, maybe they fool around with a couple of butch women without considering themself any less gay. two otherwise identical people might be a butch lesbian and a gay trans man without either of those identities coming into conflict. they might even be the same person at different times of the week

the labels people choose to use are communication tools, not objective signifiers. if you dont understand them, they probably arent talking to you

social constructs are everything. we as humans have the unique ability to interpret our own messy desires and impulses into words that other people can use to form an idea of someone else in their mind. its how we build connections, and of course it isnt perfect because trying to squeeze someones entire personal history and the centuries of context that defined it into a handful of syllables is going to leave some room for error. but its all we have, yknow? so we keep trying. and i think thats much more human than any imposed objective 'truth' could ever be

tldr we live in a society dipshit. get with it

[superslavemannn]

The Nuclear Apocalypse of Superman: Book 1 (Chap. 1)

Hi guys. This is my first time updating a novel on Tumblr, a long fan fiction about Superman and his tragic but arousing experiences. It’s a very long story, and I plan to tell it in at least three books. The first book (which has 12 chapters) is already complete, and the second book is currently in the works. Starting this week, I will be updating a version with images every Friday on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: This is a reimagined fan fiction of the movie Superman IV: The Quest for Peace. While most main characters from the film are retained, the entire plot has been reimagined to suit the nature of this work. It is an erotic fan fiction intended for mature readers, featuring male/male relationships and explicit content. This work is non-commercial. In this story, most of the images are derived from movie. I have tried to use photos from the Reeve Superman movies to maintain authenticity, but there are also some high-quality AI-generated images. I do not own these images.

*You can share or repost but please credit @superslaveman on Tumblr or X :)

Acknowledgments: I’d like to express my gratitude to Rick Henry, author of The Extermination of Superman, and @vincentzeal, author of Superman vs. the Vice Lord. Their writing and body of work have been a significant source of inspiration. Special thanks to Drake Grant for his ideas and help in revising the story.

Chapter 1: An Ominous Dream

Thousands of miles from any place humans could reach, a massive crystalline, pyramid-shaped structure stands in solitude on a vast ice sheet. Surrounded by towering snow-covered mountains that shield it from the blizzards raging in every direction, this immense crystal formation has remained untouched and unknown for years, at least as far as we're aware. Its flawless triangular shape makes it clear that it was not built by human hands. Hundreds of conical crystals, each about 5 meters wide and 40 meters tall, rise from the ground, forming a shell-like wall around the structure. They reflect sunlight and the icy glow of snow and icicles, gleaming like diamonds on a frozen crown.

It's a shame that no man on earth had the chance to appreciate the beauty of it except…

''Agggggh… Hmmm…''

A wet, echoing moan filled the empty crystal palace. The crystal walls reflected a distorted, writhing figure in blurry red and blue, shifting like a kaleidoscope, moving up and down in sync with the rhythm of the moans.

Oh, there he was. A towering 6'4'' man, built like a statue of pure muscle, lay sprawled on a massive crystal bed draped in silver silk sheets. Every inch of his overly manly physique was wrapped in a skintight royal blue spandex suit that stretched from his neck to his toes, emblazoned with the iconic ''S'' symbol on his broad chest. His body radiated power—the fabric clings to him so tightly it outlines every ripple of his chiseled muscles. His chest rises like two sculpted slabs of marble. But not like those steroid-addicted bodybuilders, they are pumped and firm, but still somehow gave you a cuddly and warm feeling. With the spandex clinging so tightly on his chest, even the subtle outline of his firm, two cute nipples were visible beneath the fabric. They sat perfectly cantered on his broad pecs, adding a surprising softness to his otherwise overwhelmingly powerful physique.

His arms were nothing short of awe-inspiring, thick, vascular biceps bulge with raw strength. His thighs were strong, solid, and brimming with power, the spandex stretching over them like a second skin, tracing every contour of his sculpted quads and hamstrings. A pair of glossy, bright red leather boots gripped his calves, ankles, and feet with such precision that even the arch of his soles was visible through the smooth, form-fitting material.

And his red cape. It bunched beneath him, highlighting the sheen of his blue suit and the bulging muscles beneath, a perfect contrast to the crystalline surroundings.

As the crystal walls let the refraction of daylights go inside, a trace of nearly white reflection of polar sunlight converged on his spandex skin stretching from his chest to his instep but being cut off in the middle by a bright yellow belt and a pair of dazzling red briefs. His red briefs, the symbol of hope, the avatar of the greatest manhood. It looked even more luxurious than the fabric of his blue spandex, so silky that can make people mistaken it was coated with a light layer of lubricating oil, so tight that covered every inch of his majestic crotch and cup his splendid scrotum. However, no matter how hard this piece of fabric tried to hide his assets, all it could do was to outline the contours of a 6-inch-long, 3.5-inch-thick, half soft, half hard, alien shaft and two testicles.

As his strong right hand casually rubbed over the glans of this wondrous pillar-like thing through silky spandex, a smile started to appear on his handsome face. His eyes were closed, sleeping, with his eyelashes gently touching the lower eyelid. Even he had a look of soft angel, no less than a boy Venus, it didn't mean that he doesn't have a tall nose, an angular jaw, and a cleft chin like the Greek demigod Hercules or a golden age Hollywood movie star. When his left hand unconsciously moved above his stunning pecs and brushes over the nipples, the hair curl atop his forehead began to tremble with his body quivering. In the crystal mirror directly above him, the image reflected the greatest and most beautiful creature in the world unapologetically wearing a suit of revealing blue tights and bright briefs, sleeping.

In his dream, the demigod muttered ''I am…Superman ''.

Yes, meet Superman, Kal-El. The man of steel. The big blue boy scout. The last son of Krypton.

What was Superman dreaming of right now? No, let's not disturb his sweet time. We can talk about his dream later.

To be frank, it's not every day you get to see Superman shamelessly pleasuring himself while asleep. For many people, it's easier to imagine Clark Kent as Superman than to imagine Superman doing something so animalistic. But even with the former, it's almost impossible to make any connection with the greatest hero on earth with Clark Kent, a kind, righteous, sometimes bumbling even cringey reporter from Daily Planet in Metropolis. Yes, he wears the tights and boots underneath his daily business suit. Unknown to anyone else, Clark had a peculiar thrill when he slipped on his business suit, knowing the bright, tight spandex of his costume lay hidden beneath. There was something oddly arousal about the contrast—how he, the world's most powerful hero, could walk unnoticed through a crowd as just a clumsy, bumbling reporter. He didn't admit it or he probably never would, but cosplaying that clown-like inept wimp did give him a tingle in his pants. Every time he became a laughingstock in public, that boner hidden under layers of fabric told it all. Besides, the thought that no one had any clue that underneath his dress shirt and tie, he was wearing his iconic red briefs and skin-tight suit gave him a secret rush. The Kryptonian suit is so tight that can press his large genital and cause slight discomfort when he must sit through the whole day typing. But somehow, he didn't mind it at all and loved his daily practice, wearing that overly tight spandex 24/7.

You see, it's the only thing he can have for himself. The sensation from the pressure on his crotch.

Superman rarely gave himself a moment to relax, but that didn't mean he wasn't still Clark Kent at heart. He kept that pure, honest soul of a country boy, always kind and true. Still, even with all his heroics, he couldn't ignore the growing stir of desires and needs inside him. They were there, lurking, waiting for a chance to be acknowledged.

Yes, everyone has their own needs for Superman, but when it comes to the needs of Superman, only he knew how hard he had to fight back. Mind-boggling to the human on earth but common sense to Kryptonians, Superman, same as every male on Krypton, has prolific testicles and a reproduction system that could drive any human insane.

Growing up, Clark Kent often felt like the universe had a cruel sense of humor. On the one hand, his Kryptonian father, Jor-El, had left behind a legacy of impossibly rigid lessons about purity of heart and body—no shortcuts, no indulgences, no exceptions. Clark learned, through countless holographic lectures in the Fortress of Solitude, that his so-called ''Supercum'' (a term he'd begrudgingly coined for himself) was the source of his immense power. Enhanced by the Sun's yellow radiation, it was what made him extraordinary. But there was a terrifying catch: if he ever released it recklessly, he risked losing his abilities—or worse, his life. Self-control wasn't just a virtue; it was survival.

On the other hand, Jonathan Kent, his adoptive dad, was just as strict, always going on about self-control and how heroes had to set the ultimate example, even in private. Back to the time when Clark first discovered his true identity and put on the Superman suit, Jonathan caught him standing in front of the mirror in the middle of night, dressed in his boy scout costume, playing with his young bulge, feeling the touch from his own hands rubbing again his own peephole covered under red fabric. That night, Jonathan froze in the doorway, stunned by what he saw. Clark, overwhelmed by shame and tears, crumpled under the weight of his father's disapproval. Clark's shame was instant and so overwhelming. But it wasn't his father's anger or stern lecture on responsibility that left a scar—it was the look of sheer disappointment and disgust in Jonathan's eyes. That moment, more than anything, etched itself into Clark's memory, shaping his relentless quest to suppress his own humanity for the sake of an impossible ideal.

Since then, he was a deeply broken-hearted man. At nearly 30, Superman had never been in love, never had a romantic partner, and was pretty sure he never would. Over time, Superman's constant effort to suppress his desires slowly turned into something else—narcissism. When he had a moment alone, he'd catch himself admiring his own reflection, spending longer than he'd care to admit running his hands over his sculpted muscles. His physique was a work of art, and in a way, it felt like the only thing he could truly connect with. He flexed his arm, he kissed his ''S'' shield, he licked his red shinning boots, and he played his erected alien stick with his firm hands.

This self-admiration gradually grew into something more. He started noticing how drawn he was to other strong, muscular figures same as him—especially the well-built athletes he'd seen in passing. What began as harmless admiration turned into a bit of a lustful crush on strength, muscle, and the young throbbing dicks containing the white creamy substance, which almost took his soul away even he just thought about it. Sure, he'd had his moments of secret voyeurism, flying unseen around the globe, lurking around countless locker rooms and being fascinated by the bodies of college wrestlers, gym enthusiasts, and water polo players. With his X-ray vision, he had a front-row seat to their toned physiques. He'd often linger, curious, watching them without anyone knowing.

Yet, despite his search—across continents and through countless encounters—he never found anyone who could match his own power. No one came close. The yearning for connection, for someone who could understand the weight of his existence, grew more intense with every passing day. But the fear of revealing his desires, of exposing his vulnerability, kept him locked in isolation, trapped between his overwhelming need for companionship and the overwhelming responsibility of defending justice and hope as he carried as Superman.

Over time, Superman's deep ache of desire slowly transformed into something darker, more twisted, and increasingly dangerous.

It was almost like the vision haunting him now in his dream: a thick steel necklace that caught the light in an unsettling, cold way, with a green alien stone attached to it, glowing with an eerie, ominous fluorescence.

Kryptonite.

It was a gift he would never forget. Nearly three years ago, Superman encountered his most diabolical enemy yet: Lex Luthor, the powerful businessman who ran Metropolis's most influential corporation, LexCorp. It was the first time Superman had realized that a simple human, armed with nothing but a small piece of green rock, could actually threaten his life.

Secretly, Lex Luthor had acquired a piece of green meteorite from NASA, claiming it was a terrestrial material from Superman's home planet, which he later identified as Kryptonite. Over the course of six months, Lex brought together the brightest minds on Earth—scientists and engineers who worked tirelessly around the clock to understand the true nature of this mysterious substance. After much trial and error, Lex was able to purify the Kryptonite and, through extensive testing, discovered its true power.

The radiation from Kryptonite didn't just weaken Superman—it altered the very mechanisms of his sperms. Instead of enhancing his strength, the Kryptonite's radiation caused Superman's sperms to turn on him, attacking his organs, draining his energy, and inflicting excruciating pain. If he were exposed for too long, the result would be catastrophic—his cells would begin to break down, leading to the collapse of his body. The potential consequences were more severe and shocking than even Lex had anticipated.

''Your very own necklace, Superman. I bet it's the perfect gift—something that almost makes you feel at home.'' The words echoed, a haunting fragment of memory, as the scene solidified in Superman's dream. It was Lex Luthor's voice, sharp and mocking, slicing through the haze.

In the dream, memories hit him with vivid, unbearable clarity. It was Luthor's dungeon, and there was the Kryptonite necklace placed inside a lead box. He could feel it all again—the sickening nausea spreading through his body, the overwhelming pain that surged with every pulse of his being. He remembered staggering back, his instincts screaming at him to flee, to get as far away as possible from Luthor's trap. But his legs refused to obey, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. Fear took hold, paralyzing him as his limbs quaked uncontrollably.

The humiliation was crushing. Desperation replaced his once-unshakable resolve, and a single, shameful thought consumed him: to beg. To plead for mercy. To kneel. Anything to make it stop—to put an end to Luthor's cruel game. His knees buckled, knocking together awkwardly beneath his trembling tights, each step faltering.

''Mind over muscles'', Lex had said, waving the glowing green stone in his hands, grinning as he placed the chain around Superman's neck. Now, he even couldn't tell if it was dream or reality. Although sleeping sound, he literally felt like a bullet piercing through his chest as the Kryptonite necklace touched on his skintight spandex costumes, making him cry out like a salty dog just got run over by a truck. Powerless then, he had felt Luthor's hands all over his body, touching him over his spandex, teasing him, toying with him, like jiggling human-size jello. As the criminal master dragged him along, Superman had sensed that his little Supes in his briefs was howling, growing, and creaming. With no warning, Lex took hold of Superman's nipples, tweaking them through the smooth spandex. A strong pinch made the big boy scout cry out a disgraceful scream. Then, a strong cupping hands wrapped around superman's balls. Almost like a sponge, as Lex Luthor squeezed with his nails sunk into that freaky alien's ballsack, Superman's peehole started leaking precum like a spread of pearls forming on top of the red spandex.

The echo of humiliating moans and agonized screams reverberated through Superman's dream. As the dream unfolded, the scene shifted, growing darker and more vivid. Lex, ever the master of manipulation, gripped Superman's red cape with a sinister smile curling at the edges of his lips. But what fills Kal-El's mind was something else: the overwhelming sensation, the long-awaited gratification he was feeling when Lex played him, belittled him, and toyed him.

Without warning, Lex yanked the Man of Steel toward the edge of a massive, ominous pool. The surface shimmered in the dim light; its contents unknown but exuding an unsettling stench. Superman's pulse quickened, his breath shallow and ragged. Every fiber of his being screamed to fight back, to resist, but his strength was sapped, drained by the relentless presence of Kryptonite.

Suddenly, Lex strangled Superman with his iconic red cape around his neck. As Superman opened his mouth to the fullest, trying to grasp some air, Lex pulled out a 7-inch rob-shaped Kryptonite stone from his back and stuffed it into Superman's throat directly with no hesitation. White foam started to overflow from Superman's mouth as tears running down his face. His fully erect penis was throbbing, pushing against his blue tights and ref brief, the wet patch of precum now bigger and more obvious than ever with white foam bubbling on the shining fabrics.

The faint murmurs filled the dungeon, each sound a grim mix of agony and climax. His body had grown heavy with exhaustion. The struggle to stay conscious became unbearable as the seconds dragged on. His pupils dilated, his vision blurring, and with each passing moment, his strength faded until there was nothing left to fight with.

Then, with a final, relentless shove, his nemesis pushed him forward, a move that sent Superman reeling. He tried to look back, eyes wide with fear, as his heart raced in desperation. But it was too late. Lex's boot connected with his hip, forcing him further toward the edge. With nothing to hold onto, Superman tumbled into the depths of the pool of waste, his body plunging like a stone, sinking into the dark, cold waters below.

… Why would Superman have such a dream? How will his fate change because of it?

Stay tuned for the second chapter, updated at the same time next week...

[mi-i-zori]

The Hunter and The Prey

CoD Fae!AU - Fae!Ghost x f!reader

SYNOPSIS : When the Hunter finds herself vulnerable in the middle of the Frost, a certain spirit decides to make it clear who exactly she belongs to.

WARNINGS : Gore, body horror, violence, predator behavior (Fae VS Human)...

Author’s note : This is part 3 of The Hunter’s story. As always, my take on this AU is inspired by @ghouljams ‘s works.

I do not give anyone permission to re-publish and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform, including AI.

CoD AUs - Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A Wild Hunt - Masterlist - I - II - III - IV

Her wards are no more, and she doesn’t know why.

This hunt was supposed to be an easy one. And it had been, in a way ; her target had been born not so long ago, and couldn’t gather enough magical power to give her too much trouble. Yet, as she prepared to leave, all her protections had suddenly shattered, leaving her with only her weapons and experience to fight her way back to safety.

A curse falls from her lips. She can feel the shadows slowly tighten around her, their weight hindering her progress through the snow. She has become too vulnerable to be ignored. An easy meal for the beings of the Frost.

The creatures move within the misty darkness of the trees. In their hollow eyes, she sees nothing but the reflection of her own fearless expression. Although wary of the multiple weapons lining her clothes, they linger, waiting for the moment their potential meal will falter ; for a breach to exploit in the seemingly unbreakable walls of her mind. Yet, according to the magic dancing around her, a danger far greater than all of them combined hides in the shadows. While still keeping an eye on the freezing monsters, she steps forward, looking for the outline of a masked silhouette amidst the smog.

She survived many similar situations, she thinks. Hell ; as a child, her father even willingly put her in danger to hone her hunting skills. She can do this.

With a snarl, of the beasts suddenly rises in front of her. Gritting her teeth, she adjusts her stance in the slippery snow. Her dagger sits comfortably in her hand, its iron blade glistening in the wintery sun. Her opponent launches its scaly body at her, and her arm gets ready to plunge the cold metal in its flesh ; but the monster is suddenly covered in multiple layers of smoke, its muffled cries echoing within what soon looks like a thick, misty cocoon. It vanishes seconds later, leaving only a broken, hollow shell in its wake.

A cold, eerie silence falls upon the forest. The young woman suddenly tenses as black tendrils slowly wrap around her, dancing at the edges of her vision. The remaining creatures’ mouths tremble, teeth instinctively ready to rip the flesh from her bones ; yet they can’t stop a series of whimpers from escaping their throats as they crawl in front of the power emanating from the strips of darkness. A large, gloved hand rises from behind her to rest on her chest, a newfound warmth settling against her back and somehow preventing her blade from striking the invisible threat.

In front of her, the monsters take a step back. They know that, even with her wards destroyed and her body covered in wounds, the Hunter is still a threat to their very existence. But as a skull mask emerges from the overwhelming darkness above her, they all understand that, right now, the Spirit of the Fog is the one they should fear ; especially when he is powerful enough to remain unfazed by his close proximity to the living weapon standing right under his palm.

She can feel him shift behind her. His body curls around her own, just enough to dip his head against her shoulder. And, despite his size, he still manages to keep her back flush against his front. She can feel his breath on her neck, probably way too warm for a fae of Winter.

Just like his entire being.

It took her days of cleansing to get rid of just half of his scent. She has a feeling he is going to make this process much longer because of this.

And she knows it’s working just like he wants it to by the way the monsters in front of them keep cowering under the threat of the Ghost’s power.

- Fuck off.

His tone is commanding, somber, cold. The beasts don’t waste a second to scramble away, leaving them both alone in the middle of the misty forest. The silence weighs heavy on her chest as the fae keeps his hand above her heart. A single wrong move could be the end of her, whispers a voice in her mind, and her instincts are torn between fighting him and remaining still.

- Not trying your luck against me, Hunter ?

His low timbre echoes against her back, shaking her very core. Everything about him screams danger. She stays frozen as he slowly turns her around to face him. Her eyes stay focused on every one of his languid movements as he takes off one of his gloves to grab the hand holding her blade. Lifting it to his throat, he slides his fingers against the sharp iron, unbothered by the vicious burns it leaves on his skin. He tilts his head with a low hum, prompting her to answer. The ice of his eyes glow under his balaclava.

Whatever he is, she thinks, she greatly underestimated him. She barely manages to articulate the question that has been bothering her since he showed himself, her teeth almost cracking under the pressure of her jaws.

- You were the one who shattered my wards, weren’t you ?

The Spirit lets out a deep chuckle that sends shivers down her spine.

- What a clever girl.

He leans towards her, the bone of his mask coming to stand right before her face. His free hand steadies her in place when she tries to put some distance in-between their bodies, allowing him to get even closer to her ear.

- One more reason to make you mine.

She finally manages to push him away ; and he lets her, obstructing her view with a thick layer of smog when her dagger tries to strike him. And, just like the first time they met, he leaves her alone in the middle of the Frost, his back fearlessly facing the predator she was raised to be. But as she watches him disappear into the shadows, she can’t help but think that, right now, she feels more like a prey than ever.

What is he ?

[antisocialsharky]

Your blog has helped to put a lot of what ive been experiencing for years into words, hope i keep the motivation to go to a doc after I turn 18 to try and get a diagnosis proper.

Somewhat related, but is general misanthropy and seeking isolation common experiences in the ASPD community? It's as if the only time I can exsist is when im alone and the only way I talk to anyone else is at my own whims via phone

Hi, very glad to hear that! I hope you can access a professional at 18 to receive a proper diagnosis ^^

Regarding your question, I'll only refer to my own experiences with the community, so this might not be entirely accurate!

It seems to me as if misanthropy and isolation are very common among ASPDers yes and its also not really surprising I think? Many of us had traumatic childhoods, were dismissed a lot, had to focus on our own survival early and learned that no one will help you, were excluded from groups and friendships, had our traits and behavior demonized early and overall just did not have many positive experiences with other people.

That, along with potential jealousy that others had it better, a disdain for the ones who we see as "weaker" because they struggle with what we might see as "laughable tiny problems", not wanting to be hurt further and a lack of prosocial connections and emotions, is (in my opinion) the perfect recipe for misanthropy and the desire to just be left alone.

An overall negative worldview and a focus on negative emotions is also part of the PTSD criteria, which would support the theory, that traumatized people just do not develop that peachy positive outlook on humanity and life.

On that basis it also makes sense, that you prefer to only interact with others trough your phone and to basically do it on your own terms, as that is less likely to be triggering (in whatever shape or form), can be easily ended, is tied to less responsibilities, doesn't require as much energy (no faking facial expressions and tone of voice) and so on.

Its also overall easier to keep people at a distance that way, to keep yourself and your personal space self, to not get into a situation where you're not in control of what happens, etc. => which is also majorly a response to prior traumatic situations.

All in all: yep that seems to be common and makes sense if you think about the things that cause the disorder and how the symptoms influence aspects like social interaction and bonds.

[laura1633]

There are a few threads ive seen of people saying oh but some other drivers are so much more calm and respectful on the radio when their team fucks them over, he should be more like them.

I know some people don't like to speculate about it so ofc feel free not to post this if you don't think it's appropriate, but I think people need to be cognisant of the fact that Max does come from a trauma background. There are countless studies showing childhood trauma affects a person's frustration tolerance, their capacity for self soothing and their entire nervous system and amygdala.

Saying max should respond to a frustrating situation more like lewis or Daniel for example is entirely unfair, and shows a real lack of empathy.

I think, even without going into Max's background, they shouldn't expect that everyone expresses their frustration and emotions the same way. Like you have said anon, it shows a complete lack of empathy or understanding of human emotion on their side to suggest that there is a "correct" way to express emotions and they are failing to take into account personal differences and backgrounds.

If we were to take someone who experiences sensory overload for example then it may seem like they are being "too angry" or that they are "overreacting" but perhaps that person is dealing with a huge amount of frustration and being overloaded with stimuli without the appropriate processing capabilities in that moment. Not that I am suggesting that that is what happened to Max btw, I am just saying that people should never be too quick to judge people's reactions as we have no idea what is going on with people.

Max will have a relationship and an understanding with the team over how they communicate. If he did cross that boundary (I doubt he did, I didn't even think he was that bad on the radio!) then that is between them.

I also feel like there is a little bit of morality olympics that goes on, the whole 'my driver is morally or ethically superior to yours' thing which is again ridiculous. Some people have a list of who are the "good" drivers and who are the "bad" drivers, as if life is that simple!

I also think that if we listen back to other driver's radios we will find that Max is most definitely not the only one who is getting angry on the radio.

[your-phantomfield]

CARL = CLOVER

i .. ii .. iii circa 2198 for @tokufan400

An older-sibling-esque relationship...

I.

What Carl Clover has had to live through would change anyone. The things he’s seen are the kinds of things one usually can’t find outside of a war zone. In many ways, his experiences have made it impossible for him to relate to others his age.

And considering who was behind the horrors he’s faced, it’s even worse with those older than him.

He knows adults are smarter than him. They know things he doesn’t, they’re able to hide things and lie to your face in ways he never would have imagined two years ago. They can hurt you in ways he couldn’t have made up in his worst nightmares.

So Carl doesn’t take any risks with those older than him. He can’t afford to. Not now- not with Ada depending on him.

II.

Because of this, it isn't easy to get through to Carl. His trust is hard to earn. The walls he puts up get higher in proportion to the age difference between you, and the power difference that creates.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need someone looking out for him. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be able to trust again. But to build that relationship with him, you have to be patient.

He keeps his distance by presenting as unfalteringly polite. This chilling formality is how he’s learned to protect himself, how he keeps himself from being tricked or used- so don’t try to push past it. Let him set the pace if you want to get close to him.

Try to treat him like an equal early on. That kind of respect will do more to prove your good intent than anything else could.

III.

He’s had plenty of people start off expressing concern for him, only to turn around and treat Ada like a monster. You have to avoid that if you want to be in his life. Try to be compassionate toward Ada. She may not look it, anymore, but she’s just as much of a traumatized child as he is. She’s worse off, in his opinion- at least he still has his body.

Be honest with him, of course. You’re not going to be able to understand her. Don’t try to pretend to be able to- you’ll do just as much damage by ignoring her ‘condition’ as you would by ignoring her humanity. But do respect what she was, at least, and what she still is to him.

He says she speaks to him. So trust him on that. Ask him to translate for her so that she isn’t left entirely out of conversations, just like you would for a ‘normal’ child with a disabled or speech-impaired sibling.

IV.

Meet him on his own interests. Even before his life was torn apart, Carl was always a little different. Sheltered, shy, oddly mature- being born into aristocracy made him a little… stuffy.

If you want to foster a surrogate sibling relationship with him, keep that in mind. Even in a good mood with his walls down, he might not look like a stereotypical fourteen year old boy. He’s not up to date with memes and doesn’t ‘get’ a lot of them. There may be some video games he’s open to trying, but he is prone to regurgitating that “I was told they rot your mind, we should play a more stimulating game instead” rhetoric. He thinks music with cuss words is pedestrian. (Yeah, this is the kind of kid that calls things “pedestrian.”)

V.

He loves chess, and he’s had no one to play with for a long time. He used to play with Ada, but she’s lost the dexterity to move the pieces; when they’ve tried to play, she ends up knocking the chess board over on accident, drawing attention to just how much they’ve both lost and unfortunately ruining the mood. So play with him. Even if you don’t know how or aren’t very good at it, he likes to teach, and it’s nice to see him have a chance to be all smug about his win streak- a chance to be a normal, bratty kid about something inconsequential.

If you humor him enough, he might be willing to try out some of your ‘more simple’ interests. He’s no good at sports, but as long as you encourage him, he can have fun with things like basketball or volleyball, where movement speed and quick thinking is more important than brute strength.

As for games those ‘brain rotting’ video games, he might never really ‘get’ first person shooters, but story driven games might be up his alley. Get him hooked on some good visual novels or JRPGs, he’ll like them more than he expects to.

VI.

There are actually a lot of hobbies he used to have that he was forced to abandoned after what happened to Ada. He and his sister both played violin, once upon a time. The incident stopped them, each for their own reasons- Ada can’t hold an instrument properly anymore, and Carl doesn’t have the space to be carrying around anything superfluous while living on the road. He used to read a lot, too, but his books had to be abandoned for the same reason as his music; he can’t be carting around a library from city to city.

It would be great if you could help get him back into the things he used to love. Buy or rent a violin for him; he can play it all he wants while he’s in town, and leave it at your place while he’s gone. Keep some books for him, and on occasion, offer to read to him. His sister used to read to him all the time, and he loved it. It’s one of the million things he misses about his old life.

VII.

On that note, invite him into your home, if you can. Whether you’re able to offer him a whole room or only a couch, that stability represents the end of his loneliness. Give him a place to keep his things, a place to return to when he’s about to fall apart, a place where he knows someone is waiting for him.

He’ll never be able to stay; his work is not yet done. So don’t insist. Don’t try to be his parent, don’t try to set curfews or bed times- just be there for him. He’ll come and go as at his as he needs to, but as long as he can trust you to see him off with a smile, he’ll keep coming back.

Whether he’s staying for days and waking up to share breakfast, or showing up at your door unannounced in the middle of a rainy night; give him a place where he’s welcome.

A ‘home base,’ at least, if he’s not yet ready for to accept a ‘home.’

VIII.

Speaking of breakfast. Could you cook for him? Even early in your friendship, before he’s willing to trust you, he’s always open to food. No matter how much he insists on his independence he still needs to eat.

He’s a horrible cook himself, so he hasn’t done the best job keeping himself fed while on the road. When he has money, he can buy himself a meal, but there aren’t a lot of restaurants that will allow him to go in with Ada without making a scene. He’s gone hungry often, and he knows it’s a problem; it weakens him and slows him down as a vigilante, and it worries his sister.

A home-cooked will melt his heart. He’s missed his sister’s cooking so much- this may not be able to make up for that, but it still means the world to him.

[endcant]

a big reason why i personally respond very strongly and publicly about internet censorship bills is because every tool and support ive ever had to understand my trauma, cope with my mental health issues, historically contextualize my experiences, and become a somewhat functional adult, were all found online. the friends who support me found me online. my ability to do my art business & be my authentic self in the same place at the same time is thanks to the expressive powers of the internet. almost nothing good in my life would have been possible if there was legislation like KOSA enacted when i was a child. which is why i have been openly speaking out against legislation like this ever since i was a child.

one example of the problem here is that the heritage foundation intends to use KOSA as a way to sue websites into censoring information about LGBT+ issues and sex/reproductive health. they said it publicly, and i have no reason to think they’re bluffing. the heritage foundation is also the main party behind Project 2025 (an authoritarian agenda for the U.S. political right published and free to read online). they should be taken seriously because they have proudly played a massive role in deciding what Republican public policy be will be since the Reagan administration. if you are politically active online at all and don’t know whether your most dearly held causes are under threat by this group, type “the heritage foundation’s stance on” into your favorite search engine, take a look at the recommended searches, and get ready to have a very bad time. (…unless you’re one of those rare far-right political users on this site, in which case you’d probably have a pretty good time)

this is happening alongside the recent growth of the “parental rights” movement, whose achievements include promoting book bans, trying to suppress any information they deem to be “Critical Race Theory”, as well as harassing and threatening people for supporting LGBT+ kids. they aim to silence any voices that don’t fall in line with their agenda. moms for liberty is a prominent example of a harmful “parental rights” activist group; they have repeatedly done things like this. i have no doubt that these groups would absolutely utilize KOSA to further prevent children from accessing important educational information.

Rep. Marsha Blackburn, the one of the two legislators who has spearheaded the push to pass this bill through the Senate, is a self identified “hard-core” “politically incorrect” conservative who came into the Senate during the Trump administration. She is also part of the larger Tennesseean right-wing political apparatus that has brought this state wonders like cities where public homosexuality is illegal, and a county where the juvenile detention rate approaches 50%. these people do not care about the wellbeing of children. they are doing awful things here that the majority of tennesseans do not support. there are many other recent, infamous examples of similar state and local human rights failures throughout the US. if you let them have their way, these post-Trump Republicans will do their best to bring this kind of nonsensical, authoritarian governance to the entire country and potentially the rest of the world, given the role that U.S. law plays in the reality of the international internet.

i have been mostly sharing others’ posts and contacting legislators on my own time, but on December 6th, a letter was published in support of KOSA that was signed by 200 organizations— largely mental health and childrens’ health related groups. i believe that far-right political groups will use KOSA to silence the kind of online information that helped me with my own mental health when i was a kid, and that kids are currently relying on today. ultimately, i think it is a shame that these 200 organizations think they can get away with publicly supporting a bill that is so widely criticized and politically fraught.

[tiktaaliker]

anyways. here's my stupid color post about the guys i made up

Fane. he's not a mortal at all actually but im bringing him up here because he has a Mortal Disguise and it's incorporated into his normal design. most of his fur is like. orange and green and magenta and whatever but he has one Normal Leg. it's just brown. And when Mortals see Fane normally all the crazy colors are replaced by that brown color, so he ends up looking like a mostly solid brown with black and white spots to make him look like a normal guy and not. yknow. a sundog

tbh i want to redo rasputin's mortal design. i dont like it. his dragon design is cool and im keeping the changes in terms of patterns/extra feathers but that's not really what im discussing here so who give a shit about him

gazer's mortal design is almost entirely shades of red. when he gets dragon'd most of his patterns are the same but a lot of his stripes turn blue. as a mortal he's a pretty typical reptiid with the only "irregular" bit being his "hair"/mane that gets accentuated a ton when he gets dragon'd

Keikri is mostly black with a red splotch on her face. i typically consider white/black markings as free "neutrals". so keikri still falls firmly under the normal mortal color rules

Tansy is just like. greys and whites. but i tried keeping the greys more blue-toned.

Mentha is a bit of an oddball. she's like.... pink and orange and brown mostly, but the colors are all similar tones so i think it fits. but her WINGS have a touch of green because i based her design off of actual spiny flower mantis. but i might rule that as like.... an insectiid trait, to have "odd" colors specifically on the wings. and i think thatll work really well considering ive already established that insectiid-style clothing puts a lot of importance on wings and wing-patterns

Doc Deadly is a MAJOR exception in that he's still a mortal but he's like. fucked up from unethical bio-engineering experiments. so his actual natural pattern is literally just black and white but he's bonkers colors from the evil science shit

Gar is like. super normal in terms of a mortal. he's just a brown dog guy

Gigo is meanwhile just really funny to me. Gigo is a human person in a world of furries. but irregardless she's technically still just a normal mammid and doesnt have any wacky colors. she DOES have funny robot ears and a wing because i also think its REALLY funny if the one human in furry world was. a furry

living handsome has wacky colored clothing but at the end of the day his hair/fur is just. brown. and thats it. the only weird physical bit is his funky blue/red split left eye(s)

i think im going to redesign brutus at some point but he's like. a darker reddish brown as a mortal and gains much brighter/vivid markings as a demon along with the wings and horns

Bailey starts out as only being shades of brown, and the colors shifting to black, bright red, and a touch of yellow as a dragon. she's one of my favorite examples of mortal-to-dragon physical changes ive designed tbh

Khetzal never really had a true "mortal" iid appearance, but he's all pastels so its not SUPER obvious- but im mentioning him specifically here because mortals who meet him tend to immediately get the vibe that he's like. psychically intimidating. this is both because he's super fucking tall compared to normal mortals and because his coloring is just sliiiightly off form a typical iid to the point of being vaguely disconcerting but not enough to immediately be like. this guy isn't mortal. he is probably the closest thing to a non-iid mortal in the entirety of mortally coiled despite being a dragon. if that makes sense at all

Razar, in contrast to Bailey, is my favorite example ive made of irregular mutation expression, both in terms of phsyical characteristics (shark tail + ram horns + fur tufts + reptilian facial structure/heat pits) AND in color (mostly red but with different shades of yellow accents)

Lucky Shot is also an irregular, but he's ALSO an example of artificial colors, which is more common this late in the mortally coiled timeline. LS has purple feathers on his "wings," tip of the tail, and top of his head, but he also has dyed purple stripes on his arms, legs, tail, face, and ears! his teeeth and claws also have an artificial coating to make them look metallic

pre-undead Lungfish is a spotted brownish grey on white, perfectly normal iid colors. after dying, lungfish is brought back with a big shiny red throat/dewlap and tail which is NOT normal iid colors

meanwhile roupgaruke stays with normal iid coloring (brown fur with pinkish skin where exposed) because theyre specifically a revenant possessing an amalgam of two dead bodies that have been otherwise relatively unchanged. hence the normal colors

im just going to mention that blacktar isn't relevant because i dont have a mortal form designed for them mostly because it isnt relevant. their undead form is literally just swamp goop in the shape of a lizard

Mike/Vikteri is also a funny case in that he's FAKING being undead, and part of that is dying parts of his fur bright red in order to fake the physical changes of undead lol. id also say that his teeth + horn were also altered to be red, but probably via magic. but either way he's naturally just all black and greys/silvers.

Garte is just. tan. and Roanmor is grey. thats it. very simple very typical iid stuff. they both display the irregular mutation but it doesnt affect their coloring at all.

Sebastian is also kinda fun in that he has much brighter markings than most mortals, but he's still firmly just blue and that's IT. Id say that aquiids tend to have more vivid colors than non-irregular mamids and reptiids so this is also pretty normal.

Cahsmere is also normal in that he's mostly just red with a dull orange underbelly. very normal stuff

going thru this also made me realize a few patterns that i didnt even realize was happening but i like a lot actually

reds and browns are MUCH more common than cool colors (with the exception of blue-tinted greys). green and blue are p much exclusively limited to aquiids or insectiids. i dont technically stick EXCLUSIVELY with natural colors/patterns but i think this general rule makes the colorations of my guys feel more "realistic" to me

mortals also generally dont have super bright/vivid colors. its a lot of dull or dark shades, with the only exceptions really being small splotches or iids expressing the irregular mutation.

the cuttings present on the mortal coil have like.... not great disguises, probably because they don't quite get how mortals/iids look like normally. Longliner has relatively normal colors for an aquiid but its actual body plan is EXTREMELY fucked up. Lure doesnt bother for the most part to look mortal, but its "mortal' disguise is still off in that he fucks up the coloring (it's meant to be a mamid, but the fur is dark green) (yes i know he's possessing a guy but bates didn't actually look like that before. lure changed how he looks physically. and yes im ruling this because the design i made for lure's disguise form is like the only exception to all my patterns). Lunker is by far the closest just because it was TRYING to figure out mortals but even then they settle for looking off because its trying to present itself as a god and not a mortal

all these patterns and rules have been subconsciously driving how i design my guys depending on whether theyre a mortal vs a sundog or whatever other thing they are. like sometimes its intentional but for a lot of things It Was Not. and i think a lot of the designs i struggled with/still struggle with were because they dont fit The Rules

[necronatural]

I totally agree with you that the barbie movie has some issues but I think the worst case of "misogyny is fine if it's not to women" is amongst the fans from what I've seen. Like the amounts of times ive seen people act like the Ken's embracing patriarchy is an enherently evil act and not an understandable reaction to them experiencing respect and control for once, is astounding. Like they've been oppressed their whole life of course they're rebelling when they learn they don't have to be.

Within the metatext of the film they are patronizing men for liking Andrew Tate, baby-talking them for their reaction to general frustrations of not living up to meaningless ideals.

The thing is that in real life the frustration with the absence of ideal is inflicted by other men. Men create a supreme image to disenfranchise women, and other men feel anxious that they can't attain this false dichotomy. The Kens are genuinely second class citizens. My point is that they experience ACTUAL oppression, but rather than using it as an empathy tool, it moves into what appears to be a story beat from entirely different script. There's a total mismatch. It is not coherent.

The message here, from men experiencing misogyny learning hurtful and oppressive language, is that if you stopped being misogynistic, those fucking horse-loving harpies will indoctrinate women, so we need to keep them in line. That's insane. If you think about it from the perspective of the film and not the sociopolitical situation the film was produced in - where it makes perfect sense; both men experiencing misogyny and patriarchy humpers being morons are two completely different expressions of female perspective not meant to interact, this is why the film is still enjoyable - it is a bizarre misogynistic "what if straight people were the ones who were oppressed" type message to send.

This in combination with beats like how you can just brainwash vulnerable women to your whims vs you must give men therapy with respect to their vulnerabilities (this is another female perspective thing that is incomprehensible at face value but resonates emotionally with how women deal with the men in their lives) & all the major female characters besides Barbie herself being less important than the male characters to the point the emotional core of the movie (the mom) is discarded to be an object stripped of her personal individual interiority regurgitating themes that don't even cohere in the first place, with her humanity and her relationship with others (her child, her husband, her career) forgotten in favour of teaching Barbies a very special lesson about female empowerment. This is not the Great Feminist Film I'll tell you that much

⬆️ I really liked the Barbie movie I think it's fun

[ms-all-sunday]

personal experience time for prosperity, so i've mentioned that one piece is the reason I'm okay with the fact I'm bisexual now, which i thought it was self evident why that was but I'll explain because i feel like it gives perspective on why im so pro-sexualized/the narrative seeing this character as attractive (when appropriate obviously and i think op does a good job of doing that for the most part) for nami/robin (mainly talking about my experience with nami)

so previously ive had issues with never being attracted to female fictional characters, (I've been attracted to real human women very briefly throughout my life. i just dont hang out with a lot of people and the majority of them arent girls) and that was a problem even though i knew I was able to be attracted to girls I didn't feel like i was able to identify with that part of myself, (as a trans man, I've always felt very pushed into wlw spaces which I think isn't good and even though I have alters that identify as women we've never as a whole ever thought we were wlw) the problem was, when youre asked to be attracted to fictional women 99% of that is either objectification or look this character is hot! and then her actual character is nonexistent. which is a problem for me, because in my experience strong attraction comes from both how much i relate to someone and how much I admire them, so if I'm at large completely unable to relate to female characters, it puts me in a really fucking tough spot and i end up never being able to explore attraction like that in a fictional space. you see, you could point out to me that there's wlw characters and experiences that could've helped me? which, I'll point you to the fact I'm a man and secondly, I tried that. but I'm a man and unfortunately while I can appreciate gay girls in fiction i don't connect with them like that.

where this changed for me was a year ago when I watched one piece and then immediately was blasted by girls who were very obviously seen as attractive but were some of the best written female characters i had ever fucking seen since having that crush on that original character,

and there were men in the context of the fiction that were attracted to nami for the exact same reasons I was ??? (sanji/zoro in arlong park) and these men were being defined by having a crush on or being attracted to nami, and she was the one in control (another reason I couldnt connect with m/f couples: i wanted to be held by a girl and taken care of by a girl not the other way around)

and she struggled with mental health like i did so of course i could relate to her! and i was being encouraged by nami herself to see her as attractive so i didn't feel creepy like i did all of the other times (being a man and being attracted to women and inherently feeling creepy was a huge issue for me) and she was seen as a whole person, a whole entire beautiful person. the fact she was so complicated and detailed made her more attractive, and the fact i could connect and relate to her and have loving her mean that I love aspects of myself i couldnt expect?? I just loved her and i was attracted to her and I couldn't control it so it had me let go of my fear without me even realizing it was happening.

i literally havent felt creepy expressing my attraction to women since.

i simply needed to figure out how to be attracted to women- nami- because i was attracted to her so immediately and so intensely that being attracted to her meant i immediately became more articulate about it because i loved her so much it burst out of me.

the fact people saw nami as attractive was both good for me, someone who finds her attractive and struggled with expressing my attraction to women and was only attracted to fictional women who were entire people!, but also allowed me to feel loved myself as a person with mental health issues similar to hers.

basically, TLDR, i think viewing female fictional characters as attractive is fine as long as they're entire people who aren't reduced to their relationship to men, and is really fucking good actually both on the level that people get to see themselves as attractive and that it rightfully sends the message that women are more attractive when they are understood as whole people with lives and flaws (that can exist outside of traditional heterosexuality).