#like. its a great tool to get your thoughts in order and work on a solution instead of just kinda drowning in your problem and messy though

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

if i'm less on tumblr these days, i'm trying to get my shit together. wish me luck. if i'm back online a lot a lot that's either good bc i figured something out or really bad lol

[malehypnofantasy]

Muscle Head

"Morning, muscle head,"

"Ugh.....what do you want? I literally pounded your ass to oblivion as if that's my girlfriend's tight sloppy pussy last night, what else now?"

"Can you calm down for me, muscle head?"

"Y---yes, sorry about the outburst. I just didn't think you'll wake up this quick,"

"This is 9 AM, this ain't early, muscle head. I noticed the damp towel so you already worked out. Well, last night was great, but don't you think you need to eat again after that draining workout before going on about your day? My feet can get used to a passionate sucking,"

And just like that, the muscular bodybuilder dropped to the floor and grabbed the nerd's hazel brown feet. The bodybuilder sucked each toes with the utmost care and attention while moaning in delight on how delicious of a treat it is and the nerd just smiled proudly while holding his laughter due to the ticklish sensation of the handsome bodybuilder's tongue and saliva.

The whole feet worship lasted for about 5 minutes before the bodybuilder went on another body parts. He lost himself to his Master's barely hairy pits and thin arms while his Master caressed his hair and whispered sweet nothings to his ear. Eventually, he blew his Master's cock before going on about his day as he got some brand partnership talk with one of his sponsor during lunch before another gym appointment with two clients and his own coach throughout the evening. During the stretch of hours he's outside of the house, he behaved normally as if he didn't just swallow the cum of his nerdy loner of a neighbor earlier today

Around 8 PM, the gym is already quiet as the bodybuilder already asked his coach for a 1-on-1 session in his prep to Mr. Olympia so the gym is closed early. When he's doing his set, someone called his coach, so the coach excused himself to pick it up. It's an unknown number but against his better judgement, he picked up

"Hello dumb tool. You must be in the gym, this is your Master speaking, Tobias. Is Aaron still with you?"

And just like that, the Coach reverted to his tranced and enslaved self as he answered monotonously that Aaron is indeed with him and he's currently working on his muscle and poses for next week's Mr. Olympia

"Well, Aaron's little brain probably forget that he's also my subject even though he's out of the house and I told him to be back home before 8:30. That's not going to happen now since this is 8:10 already so I want you to punish him, dumb tool. This is what you're going to do---"

A couple minutes later, the Coach, Tobias, stared at his disciple.

"Are you done with all the reps?"

"Yes, I'm done. Who called? You spent quite some times," he said while taking out one of his earbuds

"It's none of your business, muscle head," said the Coach smirking while Aaron's pupil went wide as his consciousness started slipping away and his entranced self started to resurface once again. But, he's wearing one of his earbuds still so he resisted and started begging

"Coach, what the fuck? Don't say that word again,"

"What? Muscle head? Why? Aren't you a muscle head? Stop resisting and let that bitch ass power bottom out, Aaron. Our Master already told me to punish you for breaking your curfew,"

"Wait.....our Master?? Oh no...." he said, still fighting even though his Coach bombardment of his trigger word clearly made this a losing battle

"This is 8:25, muscle head. Don't you remember your Master's order? Maybe that's why our Master called you muscle head, because your little brain barely have an original thought of its own. You know what, kneel. Kneel to the floor and start repent, muscle head. Beg for your Master's mercy,"

Aaron didn't want to, but his Coach grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed his form as his trembling knee eventually caved in to the pressure. The coach also grabbed the still plugged earbuds and then smirked as he whispered Aaron's trigger word with his gruff voice. Aaron looked up and eventually realized how glazed his Coach's eyes are, and then he started to be pushed to his own subconsciousness as the other Aaron's fully resurfaced

"Now worship me, muscle head. Master is on his way to pick you up and he ordered me to train you to become the biggest slut in this year Mr. Olympia. So let's take this slow so we can still have something to show to our Master when he eventually comes around,"

[stickthisbig]

Look I'm real annoyed at people getting high and mighty about whether duolingo works, and here are some hard fucking truths I have to tell you:

If you are a new adult learner of another language, you will never be fluent in that language. Fucking just forget about it. We have this bias towards learning language like it's a party trick, like it is a game that we can win. Not only is that not the point of learning a language, it's also the fuck impossible. You are not going to become fluent using Duolingo because you were never going to be fluent at all.

Now once you're done with that, chew on this part: It's okay to be shitty at things, especially languages, and most people who speak multiple languages are not fluent in all of them. Americans in particular self-report being way worse at languages than they actually are because the only understanding that we have is that perfect fluency is the only way to speak another language. It is okay to only know enough to ask where the bathroom is, because that's how you open a door to learning how to order breakfast, which is how you learn to read the newspaper, which is how you learn to read poetry.

It is okay to just know enough of a language to get by. It is okay to learn just enough of a language to learn how to read a certain kind of document. It is perfectly okay if the minute you open your mouth, someone knows where you're from. Language is a tool and not a trophy, and if you find the teaching strategies of Duolingo useful, you will probably move towards an okay conversational understanding of a language. It doesn't work miracles, but miracles are not the point of learning.

I do have complaints about Duolingo, and I vent them frequently. I think its single biggest problem is that it teaches you to think in sentences and not paragraphs, and as someone who doesn't learn great from immersion, trying to learn without a conjugation chart sucks. I do think that it is better thought about as something that you use to enrich your life on a daily basis, in the way that you enrich yourself by doing the crossword puzzle. But you were never going to sit down and study a language for an hour a day, and trust me on this one, buying a book isn't going to fucking work. I know that Duolingo makes claims that it can't back up, but the idea that it is keeping people from being fluent in a language is also absolutely unsupportable.

And now I am blacklisting Duolingo on Tumblr and moving on with my life, I'm almost up to a 1200 day streak

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🎃 A Truth Universally Acknowledged: Chapter Two

A Truth Universally Acknowledged: It has long been established that you don’t like Dream of the Endless, and he doesn’t like you. Unfortunately, fate has decided to stick you both in a glass cage for a century. Who’s throat will be torn out first? Yours? Or Dreams.

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Explicit Language, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No).

To Note: Morpheus x WitchFem!Reader.

Prompt: Role Reversal

Word Count: ~6.7k

Previous | Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

The Dreaming had been returned to order in a matter of days once Dream had collected his tools and reinstated his power. Especially after the Corinthian had been rounded up and dealt with… now the Endless had another more pressing concern of his on his mind and it had put him in a mood. No matter how hard he tried, he could not locate you. After the guard had fractured the cage, Dream had made quick work putting him and the other guard to sleep. Once they were taken care of, he had enacted his punishment upon Alexander Burgess for all the transgressions he had made towards him. And to you. Revenge served, Dream had fully intended to go back to the basement and take you with him for you had regressed to nothing but a shell of the fiery witch you had once been… but you had disappeared!

The frailty of your body was so severe Dream had thought that a mere trickle of wind would blow you over. He had calculated that with how weak you’d become, you wouldn’t even manage the most basic spell to get yourself out of the basement and would surely require his assistance. But you were gone, the only evidence of your presence being the blood smears that had dried over a century ago. He’d been disgruntled by your disappearance but understood the weakness in which you felt and had left you to recover. Only now, nearly a month past, there was no hide nor hair of your presence within the Dreaming or even the Waking!

Something was very much wrong with these events and Dream demanded to know why.

So the Endless was sitting on his throne, fingers clutching the armrests while poor Matthew tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with his boss. He’d been watching his boss stew in place for days wondering what could possibly have him so worked up when there was nothing wrong within the Dreaming! It was time to go ask Lucienne because she seemed to know all about Dream and surely would know what’s wrong. So Matthew took to the air, leaving behind a deeply brooding Endless. It didn’t take him long to reach the library, raven magic was really a fast track around the realm, and Matthew swooped down to the table Lucienne was reading at.

“Hiya Lucienne,” Matthew greeted, letting out a caw and shuffling his wings. The librarian looked up and examined the raven, should he not be with his master at the moment? Perhaps Lord Morpheus needed a book…

“Matthew, what brings you by,” She asked, peering at him over her spectacles. Matthew shifted on his feet and ruffled his wings again.

“So the boss has been in a downward spiral with his mood and its starting to effect the realm and he won’t stop muttering about Maga apparently avoiding him which he’s getting really touchy and upset about and I think he might blow his fuse soon enough.” Matthew spit out in a verbal barf. Lucienne blinked and processed the ravens words. Certainly Lord Morpheus had been in a mood. He was prone to falling into depressions and such… but that was only after a relationship crashed and burned. He’d returned from a century absence so what could possibly have the lord so upset this time? “Who’s Maga?”

“Maga is the latin word for witch,” Lucienne explained, rubbing her forehead and thinking deeply. “And there is only one witch whom Lord Morpheus refers to as Maga, neither she nor Lord Morpheus can tolerate each others company and avoid such circumstances. It has been that way since 1815.”

That confused Matthew a great deal.

“Wait… you say they can’t stand each other? Then why is the boss currently moping and brooding about her like she broke his heart??” Lucienne’s eyebrows shot up and her ear twitched.

“And what makes you think that?” The librarian inquired, her hands shaking slightly. You and Lord Morpheus? Get along?? Matthew cocked his head, still not understanding the long term tiff between you and Dream.

“Uh, because I’m like 99% sure he started crying because he couldn’t find her and then proceeded to learn that she’s avoiding him and totally broke down after that?” Matthew chittered, still remembering the odd sight. “I thought he was gunna start oozing goo like Howl…”

What in the seven endless realms was going on?

Romania was a very nice place to find yourself after whispering a random jumble of teleportation spells in hopes one would work. The coven you found yourself near was more than happy to assist you upon finding your half dead body strew in the nearby forest. You’d been filthy, covered in dirt, hadn’t bathed in a century, and depleted of magic. It was a miracle that they had still been able to recognize you as one of their own. You spent the first week in bed, sickly, and almost comatose, but by the kindness of the coven, you had made it through that sickness worse for wear. But still alive.

The grannies of the coven had spent the last three weeks trying shove food down your throat every other minute until you had taken to hiding from them. The head witch of the coven found it hilarious and gave you the privy of hiding out in her home… which you were currently doing with a nice warm cup of tea. The head witch, Elena, had already blessed you with an enchantment to hide your being from scrying and other such tracking magics. You’d only just escaped captivity and were quite fearful of being tracked down. Mainly by a certain Endless.

You both had problems with each other and your forced confinement together had only put your issues to the side, not solved them. Freedom had reminded you that Dream was two things: petty and vindictive. The thought of what the Endless would do to you once he remembered that you didn’t like each other for a reason, terrified you.

“You are still quite frail,” Elena murmured, eyeing your waif like frame once more. “I can see why they continue to pester you about food.”

“I do not have an appetite,” You replied quietly, sipping your tea. “And I know I need to gain weight… I just, eating isn’t appealing right now.”

“And why is that? You spent a century without food, that might not kill a witch but is certainly works up an appetite.” Elena tutted in a motherly tone. You ignored her jib and continued sipping your tea. “What is really bothering you that your mind won’t remind you to eat.”

Perhaps it was time for you to tell her that you hadn’t exactly been alone in your confinement. You set your tea cup to the side and played with your fingers for a moment.

“I—” You started, finding your voice catching in your throat. “I wasn’t alone in captivity.” Elena didn’t make a comment to your admittance and the silence stretched on. You took a deep breath. “I got stuck with Dream of the Endless and we may or may not have had a truce on our abrasive affairs and now that we’re free again I’m afraid of retaliation because he is angry. I haven’t been this weak in thousands of years, he could obliterate me with a single look.”

Elena blinked once, then twice, ruminated what you had spoken, and leaned back in her seat. It was widely known that you had an ongoing tiff with Dream of the Endless, certainly among the witch communities. A witch did not get involved with an Endless and not become the topic of discussion. However, no one had thought that you and he would so openly express your dislike for each other. It had been the topic of discussion for decades, certainly after the incident in 1815. Everyone knew that you two would have an explosive argument should you cross paths again… but for you and he to be trapped together for 106 years?

“Well if you didn’t kill each other in that time I certainly don’t think you hate each other anymore,” Elena murmured in comment. You reluctantly admitted to yourself that you didn’t in fact, hate Dream of the Endless. Quite the opposite actually.

“I could have easily forgiven his moronic pride, if he had not mortified mine that night,” You whispered, hunching in place. “It all seems so stupid now. I can’t even remember the exact reason why we started hating each other.”

“I forgot that you were friends with Jane,” You chuckled and shook your head.

“Who do you think inspired Mr. Darcy? I have to admit I may have gone overboard on the ideas while having luncheon with Miss Austen…”

“Regardless of your influence over Pride and Prejudice, dear, I don’t think that Dream is interested in harming you in any way.”

“You weren’t there, Elena,” You reminded her. “Dream, he’s so angry and after Jessamy’s death… his resentment has only grown for those that have crossed him. I believe I am at the top of that list.”

“If the Dream Lord wanted you dead he’d have done it the moment that binding circle was broken,” Elena reminded you, then she decided to break the news to you. “He’d also not repeatedly call upon your location every day for the last month with the desperation of a love lorn Mr. Darcy.”

You snorted your next sip of tea and proceeded to have a coughing fit as your heart seized in your chest. He was calling for your location every day? Oh gods, oh gods. Your face went pale and for a moment your coughs threatened to turn into gags. Fear ebbed down your spine and the world dropped away from you. Elena called your name, drawing you from a moment of panic.

“There is no malignancy behind his calls, dear, like I said, desperation is the emotion strongest felt.” Elena reassured you, patting your knee at the sign of your physical shakes. “Surely one hundred years of progress towards a better relationship wouldn’t go down the drain simply because you were finally freed from your confines…”

“Elena he’s an Endless,” You enunciated to her like it would make a difference in the witch’s mind.

“Yes,” The woman replied quaintly. “An Endless that has ravaged the earth in search of the one whom he spent a century with and now seeks with desperation.”

“What is there to chase after?” You questioned her. “A skeleton that finds food repulsive?” You then gestured to your body. “In what realm would I be in any shape to be in the presence of an Endless?”

“Well you certainly aren’t getting better by yourself, dear,” Elena chided you. “You are a witch, not a waif. Start acting like it.” Your eye flashed with your magic at Elena and you were about to go off on her when an explosive ripple disturbed the peaceful village. Stiffening in your seat, your fingers clutched your tea cup until your knuckles turned white.

“What did you do?” You questioned hoarsely. Elena was unperturbed by the change in aura of the village.

“What you are stubbornly refusing to acknowledge, child,”

“I’m not a child,” You bit out, your eyes sparking dangerously with the pitiful whips of your magic. How hypocritical for her to call you a child!

“Perhaps not, but you are acting like one.” The witch replied coolly. “Tis time to face your fears before they consume what flesh you have left.” Trembling in your seat and unsure if it was from anger or fear, you slowly set your tea cup down. You could only feel the tumultuous energy coming off the Endless, you couldn’t pick up the distinctive emotions however, and would be walking into this blind. Your fingers picked at the thick cardigan covering your frail body and you shakily got to your feat.

You didn’t bother giving Elena a look at this point for the witch had turned her attention to a book and was clearly ignoring you now… so you shuffled towards the door of her home. When you reached for the door handle, you noticed your hand was shaking and cursed at yourself for being so weak. Where had the confident you who could stand up to Dream of the Endless and shout in his face without fear of repercussion gone? Chained up one hundred years in the past, you believe.

Opening the door, you continued to shuffle with your head down and hand clutching the thick wool around your shoulders. As you approached the brooding Endless you dared not raise your gaze and gave no word to those in the coven that had gathered the moment Dream had arrived. Stopping short of him by several feet, you kept your lips pressed together in refusal to speak. You couldn’t make things worse if you did not speak. Silence seemed to stretch out for eternity, that is until Dream moved into your view. You still chose to stare at his boots.

“You have been hiding from me,” His smooth and beautiful voice rang out in an accusatory tone, but not even that had you firing back in equal challenge. You simply replied in a soft demure voice that gave nothing away to the Endless.

“And you find that surprising?” Nothing. Not even a whisper of rage from your spoken words. What was going on inside that complex (or rather simpleton) mind of his? A pale hand appeared in your vision and you unconsciously flinched away. You couldn’t see the reaction of Dream to your reaction, but every witch around could. He had not liked that you flinched away from him. But nothing came of your action and the Dream Lord simply remained in place, giving you the space you clearly wished for.

“After our time together, yes, I expected a vastly different one than you disappearing from the scope of the realms.” In other words, he hadn’t expected you to disappear on him like a frightened hare. “We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“Indeed,”

“I’d rather not,”

“You’ve had more than enough time to wallow, Maga,” You wanted to snap at him for that comment because you were not wallowing, but numbly recovering… but you couldn’t bring yourself to go off on him. But you could stubbornly refuse to look at him… that bothered the Endless, that bothered the Endless a great deal. “Very well, if you do not wish to speak here, then we shall speak elsewhere.”

Your eyes went wide and your head finally snapped up, but it was too late. Sand swirled around your body, obscuring your vision of Dream and that of the small Romanian town, and before you knew it you were standing within the Dreaming throne room. He did not!

“I am not dealing with this right now,” You angrily whispered, whipping around and scuttling towards the nearest exit. Morpheus was quick to follow your footsteps, angry at your refusal to talk.

“You hid from me,” Dream accused you, following in your footsteps. You ignored his accusation and hurried down a winding hall you could have sworn you saw an exit to… on the next turn the exit appeared to disappear and you found yourself deeper in the palace. You ground your teeth together and stomped your foot.

“Stop playing games with me!” You shouted at the ceilings. “I just want to go—” Home. You didn’t have a home anymore. Fine then, you’d just continue walking until Dream left you alone, surely he’d tire of such devotion eventually. You were, after all, just a menial witch who irked him. But alas, the more you walked, the faster your steps became, the Endless continued to follow you regardless. “Why won’t you just leave me alone!”

“Perhaps I shall once you inform me of the reason you left and hid from me,” Dream pressed, close on your heels and irritation quickly growing. He did not understand why you were being so obstinate with your being! Certainly when you were in such a state of frailness.

“And I don’t see how that is any of your business,” You puffed out, feeling fatigued and drained. Gods you were so weak. But you really wanted away from the being that could destroy you in a heart beat. “Just leave me alone,” You found an exit and strode out of the palace. Now you were in a garden, not exactly away from Dream since he was still following you, but it was better than being smothered by his presence. Then again the whole Dreaming was him. As long as you were there you were surrounded by him. You bat away a flower from your face, once again being reminded of how pitiful your body was. You really were a walking skeleton.

“Maga what happened between us during our time together—”

“Was just circumstance!” You snapped out over your shoulder. “Have you ever heard of trauma bonding?”

“Maga—”

“That’s not my name!” You shouted, turning a corner in the garden that led to a small clearing. But as you were about to storm towards the small fountain in the center, your foot caught an uneven stone. The weakness in your body meant that you didn’t have the muscle to catch yourself and you let out a yelp. So you began falling in a weak heap, but rather than flop to the ground cold hands caught you and swung you around.

You stumbled for but a moment before finding yourself within the arms of Dream and leaning against his chest. You were breathing heavily, having well exerted the limited energy you had and on the verge of tears. Why couldn’t you just have a peaceful life after everything you’d experienced in the last century? Your fingers dug into his jacket as your frustration finally began snapping.

“I am tired, Dream, I am tired, and worn down and I just want peace,” You spoke out, nearly in tears. “But I can’t have peace as long as you are there, taunting me with vengeance and wrath. How many decades have we spent at each others throats now? At what point will you finally tire of my antics and banish me to darkness?? I can’t keep—!”

“I apologize,” His words cut off your tear stained tirade and silenced any further thoughts. Dream of the Endless had just apologized. Freezing in place, you trembled and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Perhaps he had finally cracked and lost his mind? “I apologize for the duress and agony I have caused you over the centuries and regretfully know not the very reason for the start of our tiff.”

“Have you finally gone mad?” You whispered hoarsely.

“It is only fitting since I favor the Mad Witch of Carthage,” You hadn’t been called that in nearly two thousand years. All remnants of your existence had burned when Carthage fell. Finally you looked up at him, and your jaw nearly dropped. What should have been a proud and petulant stare was hindered by red. He’d been crying. Dream brought a hand up to your cheek and traced the enunciated bone. “I think it’s time you stop hiding in the shadows, Y/N.”

He didn’t give you time to question the meaning behind his words and simply acted. Utilizing the immense power now at his disposal, Dream easily recharged your magic stores to the brim. But he didn’t stop there, he took it upon himself to return you to the healthy state he remembered. Full cheeks, beautiful curves, and sharp eyes. Instantaneously you felt better, felt revived, and it was because of Dream.

“Dream—” You were whisked from the garden in a shroud of sand. Reappearing in the palace, you had to take a moment to take in the fact that Dream had just supercharged you. “I think you went a little overboard.”

“It was mine to over do for my folly,” Dream replied as you raised your own hand and brushed your fingers beneath his red stained eyes.

“You’ve been crying,” You noted, displeased by the notion. “Who upset you this time?”

“You did,” Your eyebrow went up as Dream’s fingers gently took yours. “I have found myself despondent over your absence as you have captured my heart and the only comfort I feel  comes from you.” He was exaggerating, surely, but your mind was quick to remind you of all the times he had spent within your arms. “Or have you so easily forgotten me in fear of retribution?”

“You know what fear does to people and not even I am exempt from that.” You admitted, eyes flickering to the side. “And I am not presumptuous to think I know what you are thinking or feeling, Dream.”

“You know exactly what I am thinking, Y/N, for how many dreams have we spent together alone?” Innumerous, that you knew. All you remembered from the nights you spent within his realm were tense moments filled with an unstable power dynamic and romantic tension that made Lizzie and Mr. Darcy’s issues menial.

“I hate you, always have,” You bluffed, crossing your arms and turning your head to look elsewhere.

“And I you, vehemently,” Dream replied with a curl in his lips. “Yet here we are,”

“Entirely your fault,”

“Which you instigated,”

“The gall you have,” Your eyes were sparking now, the fire that had been nearly snuffed out returning. “It never runs out does it?”

“You’re still here,”

“Because I find your irritation somewhat amusing.”

“And your fire is ravishing,” Now you remembered why he vexed you so.

“I would like nothing but to shut you up, do you know that?” You growled at him, stepping up to him and getting in his face. He smirked at you, enjoying the way your fear evaporated to nothing. His Mad Witch was back.

“You are welcome to fix that if you dare,” Your eye twitched this time, and Dream pushed you one step further. “Maga,” You lunged at him. You were atop the Endless in seconds, pinning him to the floor of room with blazing eyes and teeth bared.

“You have to be the most irritating, sorrel brained, ninnyhead I’ve ever met!” You hissed in his face.

“That is the best insult you can think of?” You pressed your hand over the Endless’ mouth and growled.

“Not another word! Gods you irate me to no end! If it’s not your stupid little smirk or your stupid fluffy hair or even your inane eyes, it’s your loathsome presence!” You were in his face, snarling and just short of mauling the Endless… and all the Endless could do was look at you like you had single handedly hung the moon and stars within the Dreaming. You grabbed the side of Dream’s face and glared, well you tried to glare, but you couldn’t hold your composure for much longer. “I loath you the most out of everyone I have ever had the displeasure of loathing,” You finally hissed.

“I could say the same—” You didn’t let the Dream Lord finish his sentence. Rather than let him mouth off to you and irritate you more, you simply mashed your lips against his mouth to shut him up. You roughly kissed the Endless and enjoyed the sweet silence that proceeded, greedily sank your fingers into his black hair, and just all around enjoyed being the one in control for once. When Dream thought to take control of the rather debauched kiss by placing a hand upon your cheek you immediately pulled back and snatched his wrist. You pressed it to the floor beside his head with another glare.

“I don’t think so,” You spit out, lips tingling from the taste of stardust. “You are always in charge, I want my turn.” Dream had a hard time focusing on anything other than your mouth which was divine, but your words he heard loud and clear.

“Your turn?” He repeated in amusement, rather enjoying this side of you. “Very well, Y/N. Have your turn.” You were leaning back down before he could give you another infuriating smirk. You kissed him just as hard as before, over and over until your lips were stinging. Then you moved onto the beautiful line of his jaw while your fingers dug into obsidian strands and pulled hard. Neck was exposed to you and you happily ran your tongue along Dream’s jugular. Even his skin tasted like it was sculpted from the cosmos. You pressed your face into his neck and sealed your mouth against his skin in happiness.

After dealing with such a condescending and irritating Endless for centuries you wanted physical payback and what better way to do so than to mark your territory? So you went about suck and biting at porcelain skin, blooming marks of possession you would lovingly adore later. But now? Now you just wanted to have control for once. Your fingers dug into his clothing and your magic easily reduced the cloth to stardust that shimmered into the abyss. The moment your eyes set themselves upon his glorious body you were salivating.

You hadn’t taken the time to observe his form in that basement, your pride and anger had stopped you from ogling the Endless… but now? Now you were going to explore each and every crease and curve with your tongue. And so you did, revealing in the tautness of Dream’s skin and the infinitely powerful muscles that lay beneath. Tongue sliding across his pale skin, you let your lips and nose brush against porcelain skin to hear the soft moons from the Endless beneath you. It was so delicious.

Shimmying yourself down his body, you briefly lifted your gaze to see Dream’s face. His jaw was clenched, no doubt in an effort to not reverse your position and take you like you both wanted. What a good boy he was being. You softly chuckled and caressed the curves on his hip bones.

“You’re being so good for me, my lord,” You praised him, devilish fingers undoing his dark jeans at a painfully slow pace. Electric blue sparking with glimmering stars caught the edge of your vision as you hooked your fingers around his jeans and briefs. You couldn’t help your proceeding snicker when you tugged the rest of his clothes free from your prize. You had every inkling that the rest of him was just as beautiful, but your lips parted the moment your eyes dropped down.

“Do you enjoy torturing beings, Y/N?” You chucked at Dream’s disgruntled comment and glided your fingers across his hipbones. Your lips curved into a smirk when you purposefully allowed your fingers to stroke his cock.

“Torturing?” You questioned leisurely, “Since when is it a crime to adore something so beautiful? Be grateful that I am feeling impatient this day.” Ignoring the dream lord’s petulant stare, you wrapped your fingers around Dream’s cock and stroked it. It swelled beneath your touch and you gleefully gave it a lick. Dream quivered beneath you, holding himself back as your devilish touch incited the most pleasurable of feelings within his physical body. Now if only he could feel your mouth. You gave the Endless no such luxury, happily (and purposefully) stroking him up and down with your hand because payback was delicious and you wanted him to squirm before you’d wreck him with your mouth.

So you delicately ran your fingertips up Dream’s throbbing cock, delicately of course because a light touch was often far more effective. Dream growled deep in his throat, fingers almost twitching against the floor in need of sinking into your hair. You were a cruel witch at times. Cruel enough to purposefully ignore the throb in his cock and the precum dripping down.

“Y/N,” He called, his voice deep yet stressed by the underlying pleasure you so dutifully and vindictively pulled from his body.

“Let me worship,” You whispered, drawing your lips along his length. The heat from your mouth was enough to make the endless groan, and that precious sound was melodious to your ears. “So pretty you are for me.” You murmured, tracing your lips up to the throbbing head. “And all mine.” As you whispered that last word you let your lips part to engulf the tip of his cock and sweetly (vindictively) gave it a kiss.

“You play with fire,” Dream growled to you, his fingers inching across the floor. Your hair was right there, easy and ripe for tugging. Beautiful. He wanted to stroke your face and watch his cock disappear down your throat, but knowing you he wouldn’t get that pleasure this day. His hips bucked against your touch and mouth and you instantly pressed your free hand down against his him.

“Then watch me burn,” You purred, holding his hip in place lest he took more than you’d allow. He wasn’t expecting that response from you, clearly, and you gave him no time to contemplate your response. Stroking up his throbbing cock, your lips enveloped the head of his cock for but a moment… then you pushed your head down to take all of him. Throat flexing around Dream’s thick cock, you sucked and bobbed your head slowly. You wanted to savor the moment of having Dream of the Endless at your mercy.

He was delicious. You could feel the full brunt of power he was holding back just for you, and could appreciate that he was giving you this honor. Certainly after you both had been trapped for a century… Yet you had never truly imagined what he would taste like under your tongue. You certainly tasted the cosmos, he was build from the brightest nebulas and the darkest of black holes, but there was a touch of stardust wonder that left you floating. Dreams and stars, what an exquisite combination.

“Beloved,” Dream called once more, the ground beneath your bodies trembling from his outracing power struggling to remain at bay. A shiver went up your spine at the endearment for that pleased you and made your stupid witch heart swell happily, but you were on a mission! Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked harder and ran your hand up and down his swelled cock. Everything around you trembled as the Endless reached a stunning climax, his cock quivering in your throat before the rush of hot seed flowed. You swallowed it all, stroking Dream through his orgasm while pulling your head back in satisfaction.

“That’s a start,” You happily purred, drawing so you were hovered over the naked Endless. His intense blue eyes ringed in silver stared hard into yours in astonishment. That was a start for you? You giggled and settled your hand on his hip once more, pushing your fingers up his chest to stroke his skin. “There is much I wish to explore,” With you. You left those words unsaid but they echoed in the room and within Dream’s eyes.

“Do as you wish though may I have the privilege of touching you?” He queried, aching to touch and stroke you from the very center of his being. It really was tortuous to feel such exquisite pleasure from you and not be allowed to do the same. You blinked at him in consideration, then your lips quirked to the side. His attention was engrossed in the soft sheen of them.

“You may, but only my legs,” You called, lounging on him and tracing his jaw with your finger. He really was so unbearably gorgeous. “You go any higher and I stop.” Dream’s eyes washed full silver for a moment before his touch tentatively brushed against your lower thigh. You gave him a pleased smile and took his face in hand, pushing your fingers through the hair you already mussed. “Good boy,” You breathed, mouth mere centimeters from his. Then you kissed him once more.

Mouths crushed together Dream wasted no time swiping his tongue along your lips. He didn’t care that you had his cock down your throat only seconds previously, he adored your vexatious mouth. So he licked at your tongue, pulled it into a dance with yours, and feasted off the beautiful and precious moans that floated up from your vocal cords. But how his hands clenched your legs, itching to dig into your hair, or hold your cheeks just as fervently as you grasped his. Your kisses grew sloppy as you heaved for breath but that didn’t stop you because you wanted so much more. Keeping one hand buried in midnight logs, you allowed your other to wander over Dream’s stardust chest. A rumble came from the chest you stroked and the Endless nipped at your lips, tugging on your lower lip until you gasped.

“Let me appreciate,” You scolded him, eyes flickering open as you gazed intently into his. Your faces were still pressed together, lips touching, forehead pressed and noses mashed together, but your eyes were talking. “I want to worship.” At your whispered words the hands on your thighs tightened and his muscles trembled in restraint. It was taking everything he had to give you that.

“And I wish to feel you,” Dream spoke softly, his eyes glimmering with stars. You brushed your thumb along his cheek and felt your own body ache terribly. With a flicker of magic your clothes melted away with shimmers of silver.

“And you will my love,” You replied, lifting your body and feeling your aching cunt rest upon Dream’s throbbing cock. It felt serendipitous. So you rolled your hip to press your body further into that delicious flesh of his, marveling once again, at how gorgeous Dream of the Endless was. While you were slicking your folds up and enjoying the little sparks of pleasure from the contact between his cock and your clit, Dream couldn’t keep his eyes off your body. He had only gotten glimpses of your corpselike body while trapped with you, but seeing your body healthy and glowing like this? Padded in all the best places?

You shimmied your hips a few more times, enjoying the little sparks of pleasure bursting from your flesh. If was, perhaps, a little selfish of you to just enjoy the feeling of being on top for once because with the way Dream’s fingers were digging into your legs you were going to have bruises. A thought you actually liked. You kissed his jaw, allowing your lips to linger upon his flesh while you stroked his torso. Then your fingers glided across his pelvic bone before dipping between your bodies. You curled your fingers around his swelled and twitching cock and rubbed the head against your soaked cunt. Rising up onto your knees, you stared directly into Dream’s eyes while sinking onto his cock.

You nearly collapsed from the way his cock stretched your tight walls out. Over a century of abstinence had left your body tight and strung up, and your walls burned viciously while stretching to accommodate Dream’s length. Yet it felt oh so delicious as your body fully took very inch he had to give. When you were fully seated you raised an eyebrow at Dream unable to help yourself.

“Is that better pretty boy?” You cooed to him, bending down and brushing your lips over his but not allowing him the pleasure of a kiss. Dream’s eye twitched at your taunting words. Your audacity knew no ends… yet the Endless didn’t seem to mind.

“Pretty… boy…” He rumbled at you, eyes flashing silver again. You grinned sweetly at him.

“Oh, my bad, I meant beautiful boy,” You softly whispered, licking at the sharp curve of Dream’s jaw. His touch upon your thighs drew up, not breaking your rule, but getting close to. You nuzzled his neck. “You are a very very beautiful boy.” As you praised the Dream Lord, you slowly rolled your hips. A beautifully soft moan slipped past Dream’s lips and that brought a smile to your own. Gazing down at the Endless beneath you, you shove your fingers back into his dark hair and lightly pulled your nails through the strands.

It was pleasurable agony. Pleasure because you felt like hot silk wrapped around Dream’s cock, squeezing his cock so tightly every time your hips rolled or you rose up… but absolute agony for you were right there. Naked. Filled with ecstasy. Your beasts softly bouncing with each ride you made. Dream just wanted to touch you, hold you, place his mouth upon your soft breasts and suck on your breasts until you sang sweetly for him. But the Mad Witch of Carthage was a cruel Mistress to have, and yet Dream was entirely bewitched.

So he grudgingly watched as your head dropped back in pleasure and you pressed your remaining hand against your breast. Well you said he couldn’t touch above your legs, but you had said nothing about moving his own body beneath you. Eyes glowing silver, the next time you let your hips fall, Dream bucked up into you. His cock buried itself into your body so deeply that a sharp burst of lightning ricocheted through your limbs and you twitched with a ragged gasp.

You fell forward onto your forearm with shaking thighs, eyes staring into Dream’s intense ones. You wanted to go off on him for taking more than you’d given him, but it felt so good that you just leaned forwards and pressed your face into his neck with rasping moan. It was still agony for Dream to not be able to touch you the way he wished but the mere fact that you clung to him so close was sweet enough. So he continued to buck up into you with soft grunts and growls, feeling close to ecstasy.

Breathing heavily and teetering on the brink, you didn’t care who was in control as the threat of orgasm prickled your limbs and made white hot heat flood your legs. It all became too much for you to handle. Spine bowing upwards, you stiffed as your muscles clenched. For several seconds you hung there, captivated by pure ecstasy rippling through your body and filling you with a warmth that felt comforting.

As the weight of your body collapsed fully onto Dream, he bucked up into you warm and gushing cunt for a few more moments. Then he found his own release and let out a drawn groan when your walls flexed and fluttered around him. He expected you to make some more off handed quips at him, or perhaps taunt him into irritation, but you remained limp against his body.

“Y/N?” Dream softly spoke, raising a hand to brush against your messy hair. You didn’t move even as he ran his fingers through your hair. He tentatively touched upon your consciousness, you’d fallen asleep. Dream chuckled to himself. “So you have finally worn yourself out with all your ferocity, beloved?” You didn’t respond, naturally, but the Endless half expected you to wake up and go off on a rampage about the cheek of him to say such a thing.

Shifting in place, and reluctantly letting his cock to slide from your body, Dream effortlessly brought you into his arms while rising to his feet. He had returned your body and magic to its former glory, yes, but you were mentally spent and in need of a good rest. So he carried you over to a large bed constructed in the room just for you and settled you down. He should leave you to your intimate dreams (that he would definitely spy on) but something within him longed for the embrace and comfort of your body. So he joined you, gathering you in his arms once more and nuzzling his face into your neck.

You stirred, drawn from your dreams by the tight embrace of the Endless wrapped around your body. You had literally just spent 106 years locked up in a glass cage with the Endless and he was still seeking your arms? Your kiss stained lips twitched and you tiredly dragged your arm up to brush your fingers through his hair. The moment your fingers stroked across his scalp Dream tightened his grasp upon your body and pushed his face further into your neck. You hadn’t really thought out what you were going to do past getting to be the one in charge for a change. But you had to admit one thing, being in his arms like this felt quite nice.

Date Published: 10/9/23

Last Edit: 10/9/23

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Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

[headcanons-n-shit]

since there was already a prompt abt pining can i ask for hcs on how the ffxiv boys (+leofard?) would go about expressing their interest in a particularly dense wol? 😊

We do love a dense motherfuker

Thancred is fucjing suffering over here. He cannot possibly make his intentions any more obvious. The problem is that hes accidentally played himself-- hes spent so long disguising his feelings as jokes, or as ploys on missions, and now you just assume that his flirting and holding your hand and wanting to be in your space all the time is just what the two of you do. He ends up having to go all rose petals and sappy love confession under the moonlight like some kind of storybook love interest. Its so sappy, embarrassing, but its also so, so sweet.

Urianger is, unfortunately, painfully Sharlyan about the whole thing. He gives you nice paper, expensive ink, masterwork tools, intricate glasswear for your alchemy lab. Practical, highquality armor. A delicately embroidered handkerchief. He thinks hes being overly forward with his affections, you think hes just being a really good friend, yshtola would rather drown herself than watch the rest of this soap opera play out.

Literally what else does G'raha need to do to prove his devotion to you??? The man unwound time and unraveled space just to be by your side. He was practically your sugardaddy your entire time on the First. He almost, almost thought you were flirting back with him when you brought him food from the Last Stand, and then Alphinaud and alisae and krile trotted in behind you and it took every ounce of his Exarch discipline not to retreat with his tail between his legs. Pls this man is suffering.

Estinien literally can not. Look me in the eyes. This stinky dragoon has spent a good half his life behind an armet. He is a horrible mix of country bumpkin, career soldier, aymeric's half-assed attempts to pound courtly decorum into estiniens dumb empty head, and Nidhoggs instincts. He wants to cook you food, drag you into a corner and kiss you silly, send you flowers, and bring you something he killed with his bare hands. He ends up doing all four. Not necessarily in that order.

Aymeric is dying. You are going to be the death of him. He has gone through great pains to discover your favorite flower and have them always displayed in your room. He has written you letters full of poetry. He has showered you with gifts. He has invited you to dine with him. At this point the other nobles are asking whether its going to be a spring or summer wedding, and he doesnt know how to explain how you are still woefully oblivious bc he cant explain it himself.

Haurchefant gave you a LITERAL DOWRY. He handed you the reins to an extremely expensive war-trained black de chocobo in front of everyone whos ever mattered to him and also half of ishgard, and then he had to stand there dying internally while you praised him for being a "good friend". There are bets not on whether hes going to throw you over his shoulder and carry you to his room to. Ahem. Prove his devotions. But rather on how long it will take him to break.

Sidurgu. Barely has memories of the Orl traditions around courtship. His mother had often regaled him with stories of how she had courted his father. Food, presense and friendship, proofs of skill. And yes, it frustrates him that you seem to brush off his attempts, but. Well. It took almost five years for his mother and father to get together, from the way they told it. Hes learned a lot for your sake, and for rielles. He can learn patience too.

Leofard is a pirate. He doesnt dance around the bush, he strikes when the metal is hot and takes what he wants. It works well with garlean airships and the odd unfortunate merchant. Not. So much with you. One, because your consent and emotions are important to him. Two, because you are so. Fucking. Dense. He steals silks and jewels and fancy foods for you, spends time with you, saved your life from diabolos, told you his sad life story. Hes one step from throwing himself at you like some fainting dame, and its embarrassing.

(Hes not gonns stop tho)

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

okay so before I can talk about some things I have to establish some other things, and I'm shaking all the bees out of my brain today with great vigor, which means, without further ado: a brief overview of How Does Restoration Work (according to people named Mouse who are me)

point zero: for the most part, simplistically, each school of magic can be thought of as a manipulation of something. enchanting and conjuration fall under different strains of manipulation of souls, illusion as manipulation of the mind, and so forth. restoration is manipulation of the body.

now first (and this might be stating the obvious lol, but I have to state it): it does not work 1:1 exactly like it does in-game. people do not actually have the handy-dandy HP bar, illness/injury does not translate to a single number ticking downwards, and healing is definitely not just "make number go back up" in a matter of seconds. when you're at a point where a hypothetical HP bar would be nearly depleted, anything that's fast is not going to have the kind of long-term payoff that you need, but it might get you somewhere safer so you have the time to dedicate to actually properly healing.

secondly: in order to fix something, you have to know how it works. magic is a tool; any tool is only as effective as whoever is wielding it. it doesn't take a lot of knowledge to close a paper cut that didn't even bleed, but a severed tendon is going to be a very different story. an accomplished healer must have extensive knowledge of the body and its various systems in order to ensure their healing attempt is not going to inadvertently cause a whole slew of other problems. doctors today go through over a decade of schooling and training; in the US at least you're looking at a minimum of four years of premed, four years of med school, and three to seven years of residency. personally I think healers should also be the school of magic that requires the longest time spent learning because... there IS so much to learn! an additional note is that restoration has the benefit we do not of being magic, though: I think that in a world where healing is executed largely through the hands with magic, it stands to follow that you are not going to want to physically open someone up every time you need to check something inside the body, and so for my purposes this leads us to healers cultivating a specialized, passive sense of the bodily interior through touch. I've described this previously as a bit like echolocation as magic is channelled through the body and allows the healer a sort of "sixth sense" of precisely what's going on and where, though an in-universe analog might be a highly-refined version of "detect life".

(but Mouse, one might say, that's not a restoration spell! correct! the classification of magic is arbitrary! now put a pin in that thought because it will be important at a later date. not today though stay with me here.)

thirdly: as any tool should not be alone in the toolbox, magic can be used as a supplement or supplemented by mundane resources. if you have the time for it, an open wound will benefit from being stitched together to hold shape before applying magical healing, resulting in the need to produce far less scar tissue than a wound that you try to heal without closing it first. you still need to know how to use a tourniquet, how to handle a dislocated shoulder, how to drain an abscess, etc. just like you wouldn't whip out your power tools to hang a single photo frame, you have to know when to rely on magical healing and when to take whatever steps you can non-magically.

fourthly: magical healing has limits. manipulation of the body is not an all-powerful solution. no deus ex machina healing here. the two major restrictions are (1) the body's natural capabilities, and (2) the body's preexisting material. a body is capable of much more than we generally achieve in day-to-day life and nobody is running at 100% capacity 24/7 (because you would die, very fast). restoration can amplify measures that are already in place, such as stimulating platelet clotting/fibrin production over a cut to scab it over rapidly - and then, if taken further, providing the energy for tissue repair to move entirely from cut to scab to scar. crucially you will note that you cannot skip a stage! the healer is using what the body already has available, just allowing it to happen on a compressed timescale by boosting the energy available and providing external direction. there is a LOT of potential regarding what a healer could be capable of just by stimulating production of different hormones or shuffling brain chemistry alone. but! to reiterate! restoration is manipulative, not additive: a healer may be able to reattach a limb if they get to you in time, but they can't grow you a new arm out of nothing.

fourthly, subpoint: magical healing has cost, for both the healer and the patient. the more severe the injury/illness is, the longer it will take to heal and to recover fully from the expedited healing process, and thus the more energy the healer has to expend. a healer is limited most sharply by the depth of their own magicka reserve; practicing to expand the amount of magicka one has access to is just as fundamental a skill as learning anatomy and physiology. this is why most healers don't work alone! being able to literally split up the work - I'll take the broken leg; you focus on the slipped rib - reduces the probability of running out of magicka mid-patient and allows for fewer required follow-up sessions to ensure recovery is proceeding the way it should.

(fourthly, sub-subpoint: this is also why Colette Marence, the only professional healer in Winterhold, deserves a significant raise and a vacation and if anyone asks "is there a healer around" somebody ELSE can take care of it for once-)

fifthly: potions! we know that alchemical concoctions are a separate beast entirely from magic as executed by a mage - namely, I point here to spell absorption/spell reflection not being triggered by drinking a potion. this could take us down a separate rabbit hole about alchemy tapping into the innate magicka stored in reagents and the way THAT works, but for now the relevant question is: how does a healing potion differ from a healing spell? primarily the difference is capacity for intent and direction: a healer, being a person, can focus in on the specific site of injury and identify exactly what's wrong and exactly what steps need to be taken to fix it most efficiently. a potion does not have this capacity for specificity and is instead subject to the direction of the body's natural systems. ingested, it will be dispersed through the digestive system and through the bloodstream; applied as a salve it may work faster, but this usage is limited to external injuries. strong healing potions therefore are great for boosting your natural healing capacities long enough to get you to an actual healer for more serious cases, and may be all someone relies on for less serious cases - similar to using over-the-counter medication for a cold versus going to see a doctor for bronchitis.

tldr: restoration IS a perfectly valid school of magic, and just because it emphasizes mundane knowledge alongside esoteric magical knowledge does not make it any less fascinating or worthwhile. thank you <3

[artistotel]

tips for traditional artists (mostly painters)

so while i primarily post doodles and such on this blog, my true passion is traditional art. :) i see a lot of tips for digital artists but rarely for traditional ones, so this is just my own experience (before anyone goes like "oP tHaT iS nOt UnIvErSaL eXpErIenCe" (i know this site well enough lol) if the advice doesnt sit well with you feel free to ignore it because i am def not an end it know it all. and nobody is because art is so broad and there is no right way to do it.

EQUIPMENT

so, first of all, in my language we have a saying "the tools dont make a master", meaning a true master could create with anything. i mean, sure, to a point, tools wont replace your ability to conceptualize art, but cmon.

equipment matters, especially when painting. i mostly work with acryllics and markers. lets talk about acryllics.

paints

its important to get at least okay quality paints. the stuff i use is not insanely expensive - croatia has limited offers, and i am poor. however, i tried paints for like 1€ from tedi and they are far inferior to goya's paints i use (3-4€ cca per 100ml. and those 100ml are going to last you a very looong time if you work on small scale paintings, and i even managed to fit in large ones).

ESPECIALLY THE WHITE PAINT. i cannot stress this enough. if youre gonna buy cheaply, buy everything cheap except for the white. make sure the white is good. it will serve as a thickener for other colours and good white can even do a good job of covering up the black paint.

brushes: get good brushes. if you paint frequently with bad brushes (like the ones i get from muller; they seem fine but ehhh im constantly changing them) you will be spending more in longer run than you would if you invested in something better. im not talking about 100€ packs made of donkey tail strands or whatever, i mean normal brushes, but look at reviews a bit. i once ordered like 10€ pack of brushes from amazon and they performed muller ones by far (and were cheaper); they left thicker paint and didnt get ruined after five uses.

markers

now see, i dont have any advice here, but i wanted to contrast it with my previous talk about how i purposefully buy good paint. well, i purposefully buy bad markers. really bad ones. because equipment often depends on what style you are after. i use flomasters, and they do what i want: and thats a cheap and trashy look.

canvases and papers

if youre gonna invest into something, invest into paints rather than canvases. you can trick a bad canvas by putting on multiple colour layers, you cant trick bad paints. but there are differences to bad and good canvases, of course. however, if youre just starting out, just go get a bad one; i take most of mine from tedi, or order online. you dont gotta spend billion of euros on them.

paper is also important. i am a painter and i bought a Leuchtturm1917 though unfit one, and was annoyed as to why everyone thought it was great. then i bought the one with specific sketchbook paper and it works fantastic. if youre painting, you need appropriate paper.

learn colour theory and some art history

yes i know this sounds boring. but its not. draw inspiration from your predecessors. there are people making oil paintings of modern things. you heard "dont shade with black" (and thats my personal mantra too) but chiaroscuro was a valid art movement. if you take a look at my own art you will most likely say: oh, thats pop art! and you would be right. i am inspired by roy lichtenstein, andy warhol, and other pop artists. but thats just the surface. my use of colour is inspired by the impressionist takes on it; i dont shade with darker colours, i shade with different ones. i shade red with blue, yellow with purple or red, and so on. if you look at the topics and subjects of my art, you will find surrealism. if you look at my approach to art itself, you might find influences of croatian naive. learn about actual philosophies behind art movements you like; you might find something for you.

ok these are just some general thoughts i had, id probably have more lol but thats it for now

[fishyishy]

A3! Event Translation - memory of toys (10/11)

━━━━━━━━━

Yuki: Yuup.....

Yuki: (I was so busy planning that I completely forgot about my original purpose coming here, which was to buy a present)

Yuki: ....Ah.

Yuki: (A dress up doll.....like the one I had before. I guess it might be too early for my little nephew......)

Citron: Yuki, is that the present you are getting?

Yuki: ......I was just thinking that maybe in the future, he might end up playing with dress up dolls like me.

Yuki: I'll just get him this for now.

Citron: Ohh, what a cute stuffed animal!

Yuki: I wonder if I should make some clothes for it and put them on. Maybe I should make a few so he can change its clothes.

Citron: What a great idea! I'm sure your nephew will be very happy.

Citron: I will also buy this, and this, and this too! So many special toys!

Yuki: Ne, now that I think of it, why did you want to help this toy store?

Citron: Well you see.....

------------------------

Since I was a child, I had to study the art of rulership in order to become a king, so I wasn't able to play with toys.

However, after I learned about Japanese culture and arts, I became interested in Super Sentai works as well.

And so, when I finally came to Japan, I saw children having fun wearing the transformation gear and having goods from the Super Sentai series.

The children would decide on transformation poses and shout out their catchphrases with smiles on their faces.

In this country, children could transform into whatever they dreamed of.

I began thinking that I was very envious of this scene.

------------------------

Citron: Toys are magical tools that can make dreams come true. You could become anything you wanted, is what I thought.

Citron: So this is like a store for dreams, where you can buy toys like that. That is why I couldn't help but speak out.

Citron: It is also convenient to buy online.

Citron: But I am sure there will be some kids who will see the real thing and will find their new dreams, some kids who will make new memories with the toys that were carefully chosen and received here.

Citron: Just like Yuki is doing now.

Yuki: .......

Citron: I am sorry, I dragged Yuki and the others into this because of my personal feelings.

Yuki: It's fine, really. I had a lot of fun doing it, and I think I was able to get something out of it.

Yuki: As a result of your feelings, the promotional video itself was effective, and the interior design became a bit of a hot topic on social media.

Citron: I am sure the effects will start to show soon.

Yuki: Besides......I was also able to perform as the doll I broke back then.......

Yuki: Somehow, I felt like the sad memories I had of that time have been reclaimed.

Citron: .....I am glad.

Yuki: Anyways, just who are these toys you've been putting into the cart for?

Citron: A present for Tangerine!

Yuki: It looks like there are a lot of otaku-esque toys in there though, is that what you're looking for?

Citron: The last time Tangerine stayed over, Itaru taught him all sorts of things.

Citron: Ever since then, Tangerine has become interested in these things. I am sure he will have fun playing with them all!

Yuki: I can't believe it.

Citron: And even if he breaks it, we can fix it here!

Yuki: ........

Yuki: I guess with an international-level patron, this store will be safe........maybe.

---------------------------

prev I next

[stalwart-spirit]

reconcile - for the single-word fic prompt!

500 years later and I found time and an idea for this one!

Polycrystals in The Aetherfont are actually legit Elementals akin to the ones found in the Shroud and Eureka, so I took that and ran with it! This time, I write about my shy Sharlayan bunny, just before he became a WHM!

Not proofread, its once again 3am. u_u

Normally, it would take a great deal of work and persuasion to even get access to the Isle of Haam, but the young viera found himself in a great opportunity for study due to the efforts of his father; a respected Studuim professor and established Archon.

Thus they both find themselves wandering through the deeper regions of the isle, traversing a particularly new route into the Aetherfont itself perceived to be free of any lurking dangers, trailing just behind a small troupe of fellow researchers who busied themselves with setting up various tools and devices.

"Careful now, son."

The older viera, dark hair streaked with silver, helps the younger down a rocky slope with one hand, holding the bespectacled boy's pack in the other.

"Right, I'll be ahead with the research group." Renauld smiles warmly as he watches the other dust off his robes before handing back the admittedly dense pack, undoubtedly filled with as many books and notes the scrawny lad could carry. "Don't wander too far, you hear me?"

Bjarni shoulders the pack, taking the staff strapped onto its side, looking to his father and nodding repeatedly. "I-I know to stay in e-earshot and eyeshot, don't worry!"

It's with a pat on the shoulder that Renauld turns to join the others, leaving the young kit to his own curious wanderings.

He's been excited for days since getting the news of this trip, barely sleeping a wink from both the trepidation and thrill of such an opportunity. To think, first hand experience here of all places, perfect for his thesis! Sure, the excavation itself is fascinating, but what he really is interested in is the natural environment itself. What wonderful fauna and flora flourish here in such a densely aetherical environment?

Finding a small nook to settle in, Bjarni slips off his pack and pulls out a parchment and quill, squatting down before a patch of glowing moss in order to take detailed notes.

"A sign of h-high moisture, bioluminescence most likely caused by the brightness of t-the environment caused by the dense aether... Excess energy not used coming out as fluorescence-"

There's a sudden pickle up his spine, hairs standing up on the back of his neck. Something watching and the feeling of pressure in his ears. The boy's sensitivity to high concentrations of aether is enough already due to the current environment, but this is... Different.

Standing suddenly he swings his staff as he turns, the crystal atop the verdant cane almost making contact with-

"Polycrystal-" A small gasp as he breaks his train of thought. "Elemental??"

The winged creature seemingly takes offence at the stick pointing its way, giving it a shove strong enough for it to tilt back and hit the young viera in the face.

"Ow-" Glasses knocked askew, and he quickly adjusts them back in place. "I'm sorry, you s-startled me, is all! I only heard of the Elementals in the Twelveswood. Suppose the researchers who found this place only caught a quick glance a-and assumed you were part of the crystalline structures-"

His explanation doesn't seem to dampen down the Elemental's sour mood as it lets out a series of disgruntled chimes which cause the viera's long ears to pivot and tilt in... Recognition?

"Tre-trespassing? Oh! The others! I suppose suddenly having your home broken into and trodden on is a l-little alarming, to say in the least. I promise we don't mean any ill will! It's all in order to research aether, you see, we want to learn m-more so we came here to do that."

Awkwardly he fiddles with his staff, rolling it between his palms.

"It's everything, really. To find a big reserve of a thing that's basically in all of us means we ca-can potentially learn countless things about how we and the world works. How beings like you are!"

Now it seemed like the Elemental had calmed, Bjarni's words doing something to alleviate whatever aggressions it held towards himself and the research group ahead.

To reconcile with a peeved Elemental? Well, it wasn't exactly in his plans for the day.

"I know there are more of you here, l-lots more I imagine! So if you please, little polycrystal, let your friends know we're okay and we'll be on o-our best behaviour. If not, well, my dad will take care of anyone who does anything out of order!" His chest puffs in pride, certain of this fact. "I promise not to tell anyone of you ei-either! Won't even write of you in my notes!"

Hovering, the creature ponders, then circles the viera, making more of a musical chime, seemingly satisfied.

As quickly as it made itself known, the Elemental vanishes in a shower of glowing lights, leaving Bjarni to stand there suddenly realising how peculiar this interaction was.

"... Did I just make a friend??"

[hertwood]

maybe this is a dumb question but this is the second time i’ve seen someone say something about race/ethnicity in regards to 4b and i’m still confused how it would negate its cause or intended purpose. like if only white women were participating it would mostly only be targeting white men because that’s who white women partner with the majority of the time. and it wouldn’t require like 100% or even majority participation in order to send a message. but also like i don’t even think the point is entirely to send a message it’s also just for women to know it’s an option to not be in a relationship with the people who are their oppressors under the system of oppression which is the patriarchy. idk i just have never understood why south korea being a fairly monoethnic country would make a difference in this case. like it wouldn’t work the SAME in the united states but it also doesn’t seem like it would be a bad thing. if anything the fact that mostly white women would be participating might actually be good because they would also shoulder the blowback from the men who were mad about it. it just seems like i’m seeing the diversity of women used not as a tool but as a reason not to take any action or actually doing anything subversive these days and it’s frustrating. tbh i could be reading you all wrong though and i don’t want to come across as confrontational i’m not actually annoyed with you just annoyed in general lol. anyway i’m curious to know your thoughts

Hi. If you're still here waiting for my response to this i'm gonna answer this in good faith. The funny thing is I think we're on the same page with several things! As I said in my original post i think it's great to encourage women in this country to decenter men and swear off dating, have kids with, etc etc! I think it's an important conversation to be having that being with men a) isnt required for happiness and self-fullfillment and b) may be unsafe to pursue at this time.

BUT. and any people of color are free to chime in here i literally just had the OH moment abt this watching this tiktok: in south korea, because it is very monoethnic, the difference in privilege between men and women is much more clear cut and straightforward. (Not to say there aren't any other marginalized groups OR other ethnic groups in korea, but 97% of sk is ethnically korean) But when you come to america, because there is such greater racial diversity that makes the line of oppressor and the oppressed not very clear cut. I'm not saying we have to play oppression olympics there just has to be a lot more nuance. There are plenty of white women in this country that have more privilege than men of color and thats just the truth. This sort of nuance is not going to affect the korean 4b movement because of the country's large monoethnicity.

also just from a generally speaking point: if your feminism is not also actively anti-racist, it is not and will never be For All Women. so i absolutely encourage anyone who wants to decenter men in their lives to do it, but that CANNOT be the end of your activism if you actually care about ALL women you also have to be sticking up for women of color, queer women, trans women, disabled women, undocumented women ALL the other marginalized groups that will be negatively affected by trump.

and you should also be wanting to help and support marginalized men too! even before the election i was seeing 4b get traction on tiktok and it was really buying into this gender essentialist, all men are evil cut all men out of your life ideology, which i think it objectively BAD. Radical feminism is BAD. the idea that men are inherently bad and women are inherently good is BAD.

and that's what's really off putting about it all to me. yes sure, decentering men is good, but it by putting it as the "4b" movement it's attracting really radical and bad ideas imo. the korean 4b movement is also SUPER TRANSPHOBIC. when your movement is borrowing for literal terf ideology its hard for trans people to feel allied by yall.

in conclusion yes please sure dont date marry sleep with or have kids with men! that's a great choice to make in these times for your personal safety! but 4b is a bad ideology to be sharing terminology with AND there is much much much more meaningful activism to be done!!

[sanguinarysanguinity]

For the Fic Questions thing: 4, 7, 17 and 18? :O I'm curious!

Thank you for the questions! I haven't forgotten these (nor the others still in my inbox!); I'm just slow.

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

So many!

Alas, you're anonymous, so I don't know what you'd most like to hear about, but playing the odds…

I have ideas for more Krakenverse stories -- but alas, they may be tragic ones. Most specifically, adapting the canon fates of the Hotspur and the Sutherland…

Or, on the Flight of the Heron front: you know that salmon-omegaverse post that's been floating around for a couple of months? Yeah. I've got several thousand words of that.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From "All He Has to Offer":

But here his line of thought lost way, its keel dragging against the great submerged mass of his longing — a longing that was unspeakable, very nearly unthinkable, between captain and lieutenant.

I really enjoy devising a good maritime metaphor, given an appropriate point-of-view character. I was particularly proud of this one, especially since it brings to the surface (hah!) something that the pov character doesn't normally allow himself to think about. This particular line was a late addition to the story, which I had all but finished when I realized that the recipient had requested a slash story (Bush/Hornblower), and I had inadvertently written something where the shippiness was no more than subtextual. Solution: remake the implicitly subtextual shippiness into something that's explicitly submerged…

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Usually start to finish, although I've been known to skip ahead and write a scene out of sequence when I'm stuck. I don't do it often, though, because I usually have to rewrite it by the time I get there for real, the intermediate story not having proceeded exactly as I had anticipated it.

Stories that don't have a strong narrative throughline, however, might be written in any order. Most of my 5+1s have been written out of order, as was "Friends of Cordelia" (Vorkosigan Saga).

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I usually outline my longfic, noting down major beats and events I want to hit. However, my outlines are very much living documents, continually revised as I write: there's a lot that I don't know until I've written it, and each successive discovery affects things that happen farther downstream.

More than outlines, though, I'm a big one for building timelines! I have a timeline for the events that took place between Flight of the Heron and its immediate sequel, which I've used for a couple of different stories. "Drunkards, Lovers, and Fools" (Flight of the Heron) had a timeline working out Francis' birth year, Keith's birth year, and how old both of them were at various points. "Friends of Cordelia" (Vorkosigan Saga) has a spreadsheet working out how old Piotr, Aral, Cordelia, Miles, and several OCs all were at various points, as well as what year of the Vorkosigan Regency or Gregor's reign we had gotten to by then. "Langstroth on Bees" (ACD Holmes, unpublished) has a timeline that includes story beats, canon events, Doyle's publishing history, and historical events. I know that if I'm doing my job as a storyteller, no one is going to be calculating the dates as they read, but I don't want to run afoul of any dates someone might already know -- and in any case, it's easier for me if I have written down somewhere how old everyone was during key events. Instead of stopping to count on my fingers AGAIN, I can just look it up and go on.

Thank you for the questions!

[pandimensionalemporium]

The Emporium Chronicles 1 - Sky Pirate

Time in the Pan-Dimensional Emporium was a questionable concept. Since it sailed through the void between worlds, there were no days, no months, no years, not even aeons by which to measure. Nevertheless, it wasn't too long after the new proprietor's arrival that the sky pirate appeared in the lobby.

It was quite the surprise to both of them. Being a sensible sort of person, the pirate responded to her sudden removal from her engine room by remaining calm. Being by nature polite, she finished wiping her oil-blackened hands on a rag before asking, "What's this place then?"

The proprietor, who had been knitting in an armchair and quite unprepared for visitors, hastened to change into a suitable form. As their natural shape was something like a cloud of glittering night wrapped in a woolly jumper, it tended to startle people.

"I do beg your pardon," they said. "Welcome to the Pan-Dimensional Emporium! This is the shop between worlds, where even the most far-fetched need may be met. I shall endeavour to guide you, but what you find here is up to you. Erm. Though I must admit, I didn't think anyone could get here yet."

The sky pirate looked around, taking in the wood-panelled counter, cluttered shelves, and the drifting void outside the windows. "Damn. I'm even more lost than I thought."

"The Emporium should find its way to people in need you see. But since the guidance system is currently a mess of corroded bits and bobs, I rather thought it was jammed."

"Listen, I really need to get back to my ship. We’re lost in the butt-end of nowhere and the crew's relying on me."

"Are you the captain?"

"Engineer."

"Oh! Then we might be able to help each other. If you could fix the Emporium's guidance system, it could attune a navigation device for your world. That would soon set you back on track."

The sky pirate sucked her teeth for a moment, then nodded. "Can't promise I'll know how to work your machine, but cogs are cogs and wires are wires. Lead on."

The Emporium's navigation room was directly underneath the lobby. They took the lift, which played them a cello symphony as they descended. The diamond grille opened onto a walkway suspended above a great inverted dome of glass. It offered a magnificent view of the void in all directions except up, where a ceiling instead displayed starry maps of a dozen or more worlds. The walkway led out to a platform directly over the centre of the dome. It was a circular navigator's study complete with charts table, mysterious brassy equipment, and even a leather armchair, but no walls.

The proprietor led the way to a bank of machinery tucked behind the table. "If you open that panel you'll see the problem."

The sky pirate took out her spanner and tutted. "You've had some cowboys in here."

"Tell me about it. I only took the place on recently, and it's a real mess. Gremlins in the library, rusted pipework all over the place, a whole wing covered in trees - it'll take me forever to get it into a decent state. Not that 'forever' has much meaning here, but it's the principle of the thing."

From somewhere under the machinery, the sky pirate grunted. "Couldn’t you get people in to help?"

The proprietor watched her deftly unscrewing problematic parts, cleaning the pieces, and reattaching them in what looked like a far more sensible arrangement. "You know," they said, "I think perhaps I could."

It was a companionable stretch of non-time. The proprietor passed down tools, fetched water and engine oil, and dug spare screws out of a drawer. The sky pirate tsked and huffed and wrangled things back into working order. At last, they both sat with mugs of thick tea and admired her handiwork.

"Think it'll work?"

"I'm sure it will." The proprietor fetched out a small grey tablet from a box beside the machine. "On its native plane, they call this a GPS. The Emporium can work a little magic to make it suitable for your world, and then it should guide you wherever you wish to go."

The sky pirate's eyes narrowed. "It’s a magic map?"

The proprietor smiled. "More or less. Though I suspect you’ll figure out its inner workings in no short order." They plugged the tablet into the newly-renovated guidance system and tapped a few brass buttons. A few seconds later the system beeped, and the proprietor handed the device to the sky pirate.

She accepted it with great care. "Thank you. If it does what you say, this might just save my whole crew."

And with that, she was gone.

The proprietor sighed, and leaned against the platform’s railing. The void stretched away, streamers of pink and purple energy threading an endless depth of star-studded blue. "Well," they said to no one in particular, "it seems the Pan-Dimensional Emporium is open for business."

Read More

[demonfox38]

Completed - House Flipper 2

All houses are living creatures of chaos, when you get down to it.

There are many arts I'm not great at. Most fiber crafts for one. Watercolor painting, two. Interior design, big time. Like, I'm not going to let my house get filthy, and I'm going to keep everything running to the best of my ability. (Hell, there's something empowering about replacing a toilet's float!) But, by nature? I'm just about keeping things picked up and in general functional order. If you're gonna ask me about what's fashionable when it comes to interior decorating, you're going to get a response that looks like something out of a 1970s Sears catalog. I'm about being functional, economical, and comfy when it comes to my house. Not cool or trendy.

Cool people don't have a wood-paneled basement, oak-laminate particleboard cabinets, or CRT television sets.

Since I'm an aficionado for mid-to-late century American interiors (and the weird vibes they can produce), I tend to follow blogs online that showcase such rooms that still exist in the modern era. Two such blogs include Unteriors and Roomhole. As a response to Unteriors, another blog called Unteriors-In-House-Flipper-2 has crossed my dashboard from time to time. Their skill in rendering such locations is shockingly good. Like, I think you could trick people into thinking these were real-world images. As someone who has dinked around with a few 3D editors, I was fascinated about the tool they were using. What was "House Flipper 2"? How could its users make something that looked so good so fast?

Well, practice is an obvious answer. Familiarity with the tools. A good understanding of lighting, too. But, having the tool be pretty good to begin with also helps!

As the name implies, "House Flipper 2" is a design tool/game that simulates the reconstruction (or straight up construction) of various spaces. You can do this either to your own whims or to those of various clients in the game's story mode. While a person can just dive right into a sandbox and mess around with tools as they see fit, the story mode does give structure and context to how each tool works. The plot there is nothing to write home about, but the houses themselves…man. No shit "Crime Scene Cleaner" is a game that exists. Garbage-based jump scares abound, and I'm not just talking about the awful wallpaper your character's parents keep putting up.

Hmm. Both "House Flipper 2" and "Crime Scene Cleaner" are under the Playway publisher page in Steam. The games have different developers, but I do wonder if their staff members were talking to each other. Perhaps even sharing employees…

If a player is hoping to get something a little deeper than an HGTV television show in terms of plot, they may come away disappointed from "House Flipper 2." I'm not saying that a person can't draw their own conclusions from the details they find around the house they are cleaning. (I'm pretty sure a couple was copulating in the bathroom at one house concert, for one.) You're just not going to deal with anything more complicated than cleaning up a house post-flood. Which, trust me. At the risk of beating a dead horse, I have a lot of empathy for that. But, it's not exactly navigating the factional relationships between Pinnacove town citizens and designer corporation Accenzo, like being in some kind of housing-based "Shin Megami Tensei" RPG. It's just generally trying to make people happier.

I mean, if we're being super honest, most of them pissed me off via jealousy over familial/economic stability and being able to pursue their own dreams. But, I did think it was pretty cool that one of my clients had vitiligo. I mean, I guess all video games with Michael Jackson in them also star someone with vitiligo, but that's a unique and thoughtful design choice.

To complete your jobs, you get (or gain access to) the following options:

Hands (for moving objects around)

Flipper Tool (responsible for selling or duplicating items, as well as changing their appearance post-purchase or copying their style)

Collecting Trash

Cleaning (for stains and windows)

Vacuuming

Demolishing (for wrecking walls)

Building (for building walls)

Edit Wiring (to hook your electronics up to switches)

Surface Finishes (for tiling, wood, and wallpaper)

Painting

Most are intuitive, once you get access to them. The more you use them, the more perks and abilities you can unlock for them. Since there's not a great real-world equivalent for the Flipper Tool, that one may take a little more time to get used to. Just remember that it has a submenu for selecting its various features, and you should be good to go.

Client demands are highlighted on your tool wheel with yellow exclamation points. Getting into your quest menu will also show you an itemized list of tasks to perform. When you have a tool selected, you can hit a Flipper Sense button to have what needs to be acted on highlighted in yellow. Very handy, especially when you can't see what to destroy or clean up.

Usually, you'll have the best luck doing the following in order:

Sell off unwanted stuff.

Bag trash.

Vacuum.

Clean stains.

Clean windows.

Paint.

Resurface walls and floors.

Buy wanted stuff (and arrange as desired.)

Unpack boxes (for stuff the client has already purchased.)

Some of your objectives get hidden behind furniture, so be sure to fling that aside if you get stumped. Might as well spam the Flipper Sense, too. You do get points for it, after all!

The only "threat" you have is your budget. I put that in quotes because, assuming you are following the client's requests, you should never go anywhere near running out of money. Even in your own projects, you can repeat previous jobs to get more cash, should you get in a pinch. Just put in enough attention and elbow grease to max out your job to three stars, then cash out.

You do get into a lull, working through those jobs. At a certain point, you may hit a level of brain fatigue with redesigning whatever items your customers want you to purchase and just give into their requests, regardless of how you feel about the style of the products you are purchasing. The game's just checking that you made the right purchases, not that you placed them well or used a certain style. Perhaps this brain fatigue is what makes coming across a junked-up room all the more shocking. You're just trying your best with making an efficient, pleasant space, and wham! Thirteen pizza boxes chucked across an attic space, complete with grease stains sinking into the hard wood floors. Like, there's worse things to find in a house. I've seen worse in real life. But, it doesn't mean that it didn't make me curse or shudder.

Man, though. I get where real-life house flippers just keep doing the same crap over and over again. White walls and gray laminate floors aren't just the results of creative bankruptcy and penny pinching. It's also mental fatigue and executive dysfunction.

Additionally, the game will occasionally treat you with a furniture assembling mini-game. Successfully getting at least 2 stars on your assembled product will grant you a small discount to purchased items of that class in game (somewhere between 2-6%, depending on the difficulty of the item in question.) They work well enough, despite some arguments I had with the game's camera. Whoever made the time limits to beat on those mini-missions needs to have some kind of intervention for whatever stimulants they are abusing, though. Like hell I'm repeating something that took me 20 minutes to put together just because they think it can be done in 15.

You can also platform across "Floor is Lava" maps, but man. I'm just here to fix up houses.

If you did want to cut out the story and get right to the point, a sandbox mode is available for you. The tools aren't an exact 1 to 1 with the tools you get in the story mode, but there's enough overlap that playing the story mode will help you out here. Additionally, there are tools for assigning quests, jobs, etc. in the event that you want to upload your map to mod.io and have other players play your map. You can also control the lawn growth and punch holes in the map, which man! Would have I liked those options in the main game.

When you are allowed to take full control over a house and exercise your skills, you will likely be happy with the variety of colors, textures, and items to play with. The furniture is somewhat restricted to modern creations akin to something you'd find in IKEA or on Wayfair, with only select deviations made for the occasional appliance to look mid-century modern. (Which, for someone who has a fair amount of CRT television sets around the house, is a bit of a bummer. The one CRT they have in game is just not the vibe I'm going for, either.) Each furniture item and texture set can be dyed in at least three sets of color styles separated by vibrance, sometimes also coming with different pattern, wood, or metal types. In the right circumstances, you can also use photos off your own computer for additional artwork! For someone that remembers the more static days of the original Sims release, it's particularly impressive! Significantly fewer dead people around, too.

I'm always amused when guys discover exactly what gals did in "The Sims" games. Those games were pool-based slaughterhouses. Girls had to get their cool graveyards somehow.

When I had hiccups with the game, I could get around most obstacles by figuring out how to talk to the game in its own logic. Like, once I removed a timber log to paint behind it, then had to resize said log into a sliver to get it back into place, then resize it once more to its original size. Hooking up electrical wiring also wasn't explicitly taught, but I figured it out after messing around with light settings in a ranch house. The only problems I had that couldn't be fixed were being unable to cut triangular shapes out of bricks or placing bricks down in spots where the game arbitrarily said no. Annoying? Sure. But, that's a surprisingly low limitation.

Although, it would have been nice to be able to manually freeze items into a single group. Or, just have a bunch of items for purchase as a group. (Like, I'm talking having a block of books instead of having to arrange one at a time. I suppose you could put them onto a tray, move them, then delete the tray, but man. That feels weird.) Also, it's kind of weird that there are so many toys, but not a generic teddy bear or doll. Like, there's action figures for fake games, but not much in the way for dolls or stuffed animals. I don't know. Just seems like a thing kids would have.

Another weird thing—I ended up having this intermittent input issue with a Nintendo Switch controller that I was using from time to time. For whatever reason, right stick input would lock into a counter-clockwise circle, and I'd have to shake it out of that bad behavior. I doubt many people are using Switch controllers for PC gaming, but hey. Guess I’m weird like that. (I didn't have any issues with an Xbox 360 controller or the standard keyboard and mouse, for what that's worth.)

"House Flipper 2" is an awesome tool that happens to have a decent game mode attached to it. I am wondering how this could be used more as a partner tool or competitor to something like Sketchup more than expanding the boundaries and lore of Pinnacove. I imagine an average interior designer could get a lot of use out of something like "House Flipper 2," even if that's not the exact purpose of it. A person is never going to get exact furniture matches with it, but I imagine you could at least mock up a room relatively quickly with it. To those in the right industry, that might be pretty neat.

The base price for "House Flipper 2" is around $39.99 with a bonus DLC Starter Pack for $9.99. I suspect this price may change depending on how many people they want/need to pull in for co-op playtesting, so watch for any potential sales. I'm not exactly certain how many of my readers would be into building homes and decorating them, so for them, this may be too expensive. But, hey. It's important to engage in non-violent, constructive play, from time to time. This is a good way to do just that.

Although, if an option opens up to smash some digital NIMBY or HOA president's car in with a sledgehammer, I'm all for that, too. Gotta make this housing market more affordable somehow.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Fall Fun (Indruck)

The runner up of the spooky creatures poll was "person indebted to a pumpkin demon."

Thanks to @bellafarallones2 for playing in this space on discord. This ended up being SFW, but if you need your horny pumpkin demon fix, I got you covered. And you can find even more plant demons here

Indrid Cold sits on the bedroom floor of his tiny studio apartment. The one that’s not up to code and he’s paying for under the table. The one he has just drawn green chalk markings all across the floor of. 

In retrospect, it was always going to come to this. 

Last year, the instant he turned 18, he moved out of his father’s huge, historic house and as far as his limited funds would carry him. Which turned out to be the other side of town. For awhile the combination from his pay at the Dollar General and commissions for his art were enough to keep him afloat. But now someone, he’s almost positive it’s his father, has bought the building he’s living in and jacking up the rent.

Indrid doesn’t have as many tools at his disposal as he’d like. But he’s got a strange  book he found at a thrift store and a willingness to get weird, and that will have to do for now. 

He finishes drawing the circles and lights the candles–orange–and reads the incantation. As the last word leaves his lips, the markings turn to vines, sprouting across the floorboards until he’s sitting in the middle of a pumpkin patch. A massive, orange pumpkin rises from the ground, nearly hits the ceiling before opening with a wet crack. 

A figure steps from within, and for a moment Indrid thinks he’s in a Washington Irving story; the man’s body is topped with a green pumpkin head, its eyes flickering with fire, and he’s clad in a green cape and riding clothes. 

The demon stares down at Indrid, then looks at his own feet. 

“Aw fuck, thought this spell’d been wiped from the books.”

“...excuse me?”

The demon picks pumpkin guts from his sleeves, “This entrance is messy as all get out. Wrote a new one where I just kinda poof into place. Guess you must’ve found a real old book.  Whelp, no point in dwellin’ on it; what can I do for you?”

Indrid cannot decide if the friendly demeanor or the southern accent is more wrong-footing, but he clears his throat and says, “I wish to make a pact, great and terrible one.”

“Okay, shoot.” The demon sets his gloved hands on his hips. 

“I…I want you to make it so that no one owns this building, but that no one makes me own it and, I don’t know, pay taxes on it or something. I just want to live here and be left alone.”

The demon looks around, then makes his way to the door and flips the light switch, leaving Indrid squinting under the bare bulbs.

“Hate to say it, slim, but it kinda looks like no one owns it now.”

“Yes, it does give that impression. But right now it costs me $800 a month with the promise of climbing more.”

The demon whistles, an odd, low tone, “Damn. Yeah, I can do that. But you gotta…uh, one sec” He pulls a faded, green book from his pocket and quickly scans the pages, “lemme see…looks like the best I can do is that favor in exchange for a year's worth of service to me. Bit steep, but we got brackets for this stuff that we gotta follow.”

“Done.” It’ll take him that long to save up for a move anyway. 

The demon holds out a hand, and when Indrid shakes it he feels vines and wood beneath, not skin. As carved eyes flash green flame, he’s glad he didn’t ask for more. 

“Deal’s in place. I’ll be around in a day or two. Gotta figure out how to put you to work.” He winks, then sinks into the floor with a “see you around, slim.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

“You gonna come hang out tonight?” Barclay slips an extra cookie into Indrids’ bag as he picks up his order.

“No, I don’t think so. Thank you for offering but I will be busy.” 

His friend looks worried enough that Indrid almost feels bad for the fact that what he’ll be busy doing is staring at the wall and wondering what the point of it all is. 

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Aubrey helped Ned clear out some Saturday Night Dead videos, so who knows what she’ll bring to watch.”

Indrid promises to think about it, then trudges home in the chilly air to a chillier apartment. Then it feels as if he’s in a late summer garden, and when he turns the demon is watching him. 

“Got a job for you.”

“Alright.” Indrid tries not to flinch as the creature raises his hand. A snap like breaking branches produces nothing but a cluster of new groceries on his counter. 

“You want me to bake for you?” Indrid picks up the box of pumpkin spice cake mix.

“Not quite. See, what’s gonna happen is you’re gonna make those, put ‘em all in this” a pumpkin shaped cake carrier appears “and go to your buddy’s house. You’re also gonna stop by your neighbor on the way, the nice guy with the funky metal goat statue in his yard.”

Indrid turns, can of cream cheese frosting in hand, “Apologies, dark one, but I’m not sure I see the point of this.”

The demon crosses his arms, “These last few days have been normal, right? How your days usually go?”

“Yes…”

“Yeah, see, you keep up like this, you’re just gonna shrivel up like a sapling in the sun.” The green coat rustles as he steps forward, “you’re lonely, slim. Don’t take demon powers to see that. Or that there are folks who don’t want you to feel that way. So” the demon tosses him an apron with a Death's Head Moth printed on the front, “get that oven on. And quit callin’ me ‘dark one’ and shit like that. You can just call me Duck; it’s a nickname.”

Indrid has a multitude of questions, but decides it’s better not to pester an entity that can turn his veins to vines. 

For some reason, Duck hangs around while he bakes, creaking and gliding from one end of the studio to the other, not speaking but not making Indrid feel as if he has to fill the silence. When he notices that he’s running out of time before movie night, the demon returns and perchings on the kitchen table as vines emerge to help Indrid frost the cupcakes. 

The demon dissipates as soon as he touches the front door. Indrid leaves a smaller container of cupcakes for his neighbor across the way, and the small burn he got from the oven is worth it a hundred times over when Barclay practically rips the door off its hinges letting him in. 

It’s only when he returns home, tired and happy, that he notices the stained, white paint of the bathroom is now a light, homey orange. Like candlelight in a window. 

It makes him smile. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

“Duck, can I ask you something?”

“Sure”  The green Jack’O Lantern by his chair replies, soft enough that only he can hear. 

“Why have me do this?” He gestures to the library's fall fair, where he’s currently under a pop-up tent next to a table of face-painting supplies. The children's librarian had been very excited when he’d volunteered his services; apparently none of the other volunteers felt confident in their artistic talents. 

“Are you not havin’ fun?”

“No. Nono, it’s actually rather nice. I was worried it would be overwhelming but it being outside has kept me from feeling trapped. And it’s fun to make the kids happy. I just don’t see how this benefits you.”

“It don’t. Not directly anyway. I was the god of harvest festivals once upon a time. Never cared much for the worship and such; I just liked watching people get all these little moments of joy outta things like pumpkins or turnips. Hell, even leaves. So I try’n do things to encourage that these days, too. Other demons might get all high on the fact they got power, but that’s never been my style. I’m a simple being.”

Indrid smirks, “That grazing board you made me spend three hours assembling yesterday begs to differ. I never should have let you know about Pinterest.”

“Was it or was it not the right thing to eat while watchin’ every single Halloween movie?”

“Oh it definitely was.” He raises one of his brushes, “but maybe I should paint you as a bunny or something, just to keep you humble.”

A vine sneaks through the back of the chair and playfully pinches him, “Careful, slim, hate to have to get handsy in front of all these people.”

Indrid stifles a laugh, “Alright, alright, fair enough.”

“....If you wanted to paint flames on me that’d be sick as hell.”

He dips his brush in the yellow paint, “Your wish is my command.”

—------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s never been accidentally summoned before. Usually he always has time to at least toss on the robe and make himself look like he wasn’t just in the garden or petting his cat when they called. But tonight, he’s just come in from checking on his fall beds, still in his t-shirt and tattered jeans,  when he’s yanked upward and around into the human world. 

He can by smell alone that he’s in Indrid’s place, and as he wobbles he spots the bags of Halloween candy the man bought the night before (“it’s still a few days from now, but I like to make sure I have the good stuff to give away”). What he doesn’t see is his human. 

“‘Drid? You home?”

A ragged gasp comes from the mattress in the far corner of the room, and a face peeks out from  what he assumed was just a pile of blankets. 

“Duck? What” Indrid sniffs and wipes his eyes, “what are you doing here?”

“No fuckin’ clue.” He kneels by the bed, “but I got a hunch that it’s got to do with you hiding away like a bulb waiting for spring.”

Worryingly, Indrid whimpers at that and retreats most of the way back into the blanket. Duck rests a hand on his forehead, petting his silver hair. Without his gloves, it’s obvious how much of his form is plant matter masquerading as a man. But Indrid doesn’t flinch, and so Duck uses the ends of his fingers to gently scritch his scalp. 

“What happened?”

“I, my, my father turned up at the Lodge where Barclay works. A-aubrey and some of my other friends were there too and he yelled at all of them for helping me. He even threatened Barclay to his face, he, I think he was trying to goad him into a fight so he could call the cops on him. Mama threw him out but I, when Barclay called me I could tell how upset and scared he was and it, it’s all my fault.” His face scrunches up and he burrows, without hesitation, against Duck, trying not to cry. 

Duck knows he’s never known a human who he thought looked cute even when he was crying, but now is not the time to bring that up. Instead he wraps his arms around him and adds some vines for extra security. 

“Hey, hey slim it’s okay. It ain’t your fault.”

“But it is. He wouldn’t have done that if it weren’t for me”

“For all we know he would have because he’s a huge fuckin asshole.”

“I just…I’m bad luck. I’m always causing my friends trouble, they’d be, be better off not knowing me.” He’s clinging to Duck’s shirt, and there’s now dirt on his cheek from where it’s been pressed to him. 

“That ain’t true. Know I’m better having you in my life, and I bet they feel the same.”

A final, shuddery sob leaves the human. Then he says, flatly, “I would like to go to bed now.”

“Okay” Duck releases him, “you want me to tuck you in. These are great for that.” The vines wiggle but Indrid just blinks at them. 

“No. Thank you. I will see you soon.”

Duck cups his cheek and wishes him goodnight. Then he stays in the shadows, imperceptible, until he’s certain his human is sound asleep. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid is drunk on pumpkin spice BuzzBalls and practically passed out on a tombstone. 

Still not the worst birthday he’s had. 

Barclay had suggested he come over once trick or treating was done and join everyone for a Halloween/birthday party. He declined. It’s safer for them if he celebrates out here alone. 

He’s drunk enough that it feels like the ground is floating away. And like the world smells like the singed innards of a Jack’O Lantern.

Wait

“Duck?”

“Yep. Came by to bring you some special glow in the dark pumpkins and got kinda worried when I couldn’t find you.” The demon’s voice is blossom-soft as he lowers Indrid into his bed. He didn’t know Duck could teleport him as well. 

“M’fine, I promise.”

“‘Drid, it’s not even 7 pm and you’re falling down.” There’s a wooden buzz, then Duck says, “wait, it’s your birthday?”

Indrid sits up, finds the demon looking at the phone he left on the table.

“Yes. It has never been much fun to celebrate.”

There’s a flurry of vines and leaves, a burst of life, then Indrid’s apartment is full of lit pumpkins and halloween lights, making the walls orange and purple. Duck holds out a small, brown box. Indrid opens it. Inside are gauges for his ears; they’re burnished and beautifully organic looking, as if Duck made them of petrified pumpkin shell. 

“Figure I can do my part to change that.”

Indrid holds the box, looking up at Duck’s strange face. If someone like Duck cares about him, wants him to be happy, even when he’s seen him so pathetic…

“I…I want to go see my friends. I don’t want to celebrate alone.”

“I can help with that.” Duck kneels, rests the cool surface of his forehead against Indrid’s own. After a moment, he feels far more sober. And much braver.

“I don’t suppose there’s a way you could come with me? I like you so much and I want the others to get to know you too…”

“Gimme one sec. Uh, this might be kinda weird.” Duck sets his fingers into his eyes and mouth and pulls. There’s a hollow crunch and crack, and then the pumpkin splits and falls away. In its place is a round, human face with dark hair, a crooked smile, and beautiful, green eyes. 

“Oh” Indrid gasps. 

Duck smiles, “Don’t get too used to it, slim. Takes a lot of power to do this, so I can only pull it off now and then.” He looks down at his hands and the overalls he appeared in, “guess we’ll just tell ‘em my costume was a scarecrow or something. But, uh, how do we explain how we know each other?”

Indrid cautiously leans forward and kisses him. There’s a faint taste of smoke when the demon smiles into the kiss and slips his fingers into Indrid’s hair. 

“Perhaps we could introduce you as my boyfriend?”

Vines hug him close as Duck kisses him again and whispers, “Yeah, slim, let’s do that.”

[igglemouse]

Life By You Thoughts...

Ok, I just finished watching their presentation a few things super impressed me. Here are the positives!

The overall theme of the game that everything is moddable basically in game. That’s great! I’m sure players will do a lot with that! Also the ability to create worlds it looks like is a big sell and open world will be nice to have. Hopefully it performs better than Sims 3 open world did when it launched. 

No rabbit holes. I mean, this is a pretty big claim when you think about it. They even showed your sim (I will call them sims until they have a name...) shopping and at their job. I hope they realize the kind of expectations they are setting with this. It’s one thing to say ‘No rabbitholes’ and another thing to actually pull that off. I am always skeptical I guess!

The open world and how moddable it is, GIANT selling point.

Conversations? That’s a bold choice! So no gibberish language like Animal Crossing or Sims but they actually have convos...text convos. The trailer did not show any voice acting (I wonder though...with AI....) and people can edit and add their own! Not really sure how this will work out in the long run but I like bold choices! 

The game looks so moddable I honestly wonder what would be the purpose of buying packs (which it looks like they will sell.) maybe they underestimate the determination and skills of modders lol but this is clearly a positive! As a customer/consumer it’s not on me to wonder how they will make money.

Negatives...

on the other hand...the character models look really meh right now IMHO. The portraits on the UI look good, really its the hair textures that just...it kind of looks like someone putting alpha hair on a MM sim...let me show you...

Ok, this is a screen from the steam page, i didn’t edit it in any way. So the character doesn’t look bad really but the hair texture (and that blurry scalp part what is that?) just looks very meh to me. Hopefully they can clean this up but with how moddable this game is probably won’t matter in the long run and the game but just fix whatever they are doing with the hair and I’ll be fine with it personally. I know people might disagree.

Also, EA would get buried for this but they announced that pre-ordering would give you like 3 packs...and the game is launching in Early Access. That’s always a concern when a major publisher like Paradox is doing that. Feels like they have been at this for a long time and are now just pushing it out. I look at the trailer today and think it needs a bit more time. 

The whole presentation of the game is also meh. The UI just looks so bland and has little personality. Makes the game look more like a tool and not a game. Honestly the whole way they presented things made me feel like they were selling me some tool to MAKE a game and not a game itself. 

Another random negative that has nothing to do with this game but there’s so many things coming out this year! I mean I’ve been hyped for Diablo 4 (and even more hyped after the beta) and Starfield for years now! 

I root for this game though and while Early Access always raises a concerned brow from me it’s good to see that a Sims competitor is coming out and coming out this year (at least for now) and Paradox makes some amazing games. Obviously Cities but I’m always suggesting Crusader Kings and Stellaris!

Ok, that was long but those are my thoughts on this game as of now!

[ananke-xiii]

Lately I've been giving a lot of thought to the concept of "work" in spiritual journeys. When I first read Gurdjieff years ago I was taken aback by the fact that he equals transforming and knowing onself to actual work. I was like, no, it's not possible, work is work, spirituality has nothing to do with it. And I was fucking wrong.

Even just LEARNING about the tools one MIGHT use to start THINKING ABOUT evolving on a spiritual level is exhausting. It's work work work work. It's punching the clock. It's discipline and energy and time spent on studying and listening and meditating and doing other practices. It requires EFFORT. Tons and tons of it. It can be tiring. You will be tempted to stop many times because it's not gonna be pretty. It will get worse before it gets better. You'll cry a lot. More than you can even imagine. Your dreams will be vivid and you'll start experiencing reality in a different way. And people will abandon you and you will abandon people. And then you'll cry some more.

So yeah. Gurdjieff was right. It IS work. A different kind where you don't work for your boss or your clients or the state or whatever. You work for your soul. With your soul. To meet and say hi. And it takes your everything.

I'm not saying something new here but it became clear after maybe one WHOLE year that this kind of work is not compatible with the "8h of work, 8h of play, 8h of sleep" mentality. Ofc, this mentality doesn't even apply under "normal" circumatances so it shouldn't even come as a surprise. And as I said, I'm not discovering a new continent here: the "otium" vs "negotia" debate is as old as Western civilization as we (like to) know it.

To further complicate matters let's imagine that what many spiritual teachers have been telling us is true: humankind is stuck. Its evolution has stopped. Collectively we have managed to reach the third chakra. And we've not even been particularly successful at that. Therefore the key is to work in order to evolve and reach the fourth chakra. The heart chakra.

Symbolically I think this is why society is so in love with the idea of Love, cause that's the goal and we've been trying to reach it for millennia and failing (because we are looking for an object, any object, to love and that's not the point, the point is always. always the connection with others).

But the thing is.

The thing I've realized today is.

To BE ABLE to Love. To be in a condition where Love comes easily. Where Love flows from you effortlessly. To be able to open your heart.

You need rest.

And fucking tons of it.

Rest not just as in "sleeping" but as in "being in a relaxed state". Which is a flexible state. A state where lines can be more easily crossed and bridges are not needed cause lands touch each other and oceans meet and greet. A state where connections can happen.

(now I understand why one of my teachers recommended TWO naps per day. A crazy thought for me until I tried to take at least ONE. Life-changing experience. Also: not feasible)

To be able to Love Like That, rest is necessity. All "The Work" , all the effort you put in lead to that. We NEED to learn to fucking rest.

And so we're back to square one. "The Work" and "work" seem to be incompatible. Because what "The Work' teaches is basically how to rest your mind. What "work" does is instruct your mind to see life as divided into different time-slots: there's a time for duty and a time for rest and they are separate and must be kept as such (even if it's not factually possible because the 8-8-8 rule is an ideal and not a reality). There's no flow, no flexibility, only separation.

And because rest is a necessity in order to open the fourth chakra, one might almost say that taking the time to know oneself is an endeavor that's only possible for the people who have the means to do so. People who can make the choice of not "working" for a great variety of reasons. Still, people who HAVE THE POSSIBILITY to choose.

After all, in ancient Rome otium was something that only the aristocracy could afford.

So: even if the whole world benefits if only ONE person puts in the effort to know themselves, it will not be enough for a collective evolution. 'Cause it's the "collective" bit that's missing.

That is to say that "work" as it's currently conceived in our patriarchal capitalist fascist society ACTIVELY works AGAINST the opening of our collective heart chakra.

The "constant growth" idea was already laughable and counterintuitive but under this light it is finally shown as a big fat lie and a great danger.

So what can we - normal people needing actual jobs - do if we want to open our heart?

I don't have a solution. I can only share what I've been doing and what I was taught which is:

do something (meditation, practices, reading etc) every day for at least 2 minutes. It's a very small amount of time to dedicate to oneself and go inwards. It's also not a daunting task: it's interstitial, in-between all these ideal 8-8-8 hours, it's a promethean act of rebellion but even better cause it's small, undetectable, unpunishable.

don't drink alcohol, don't eat meat, avoid sugary stuff: I didn't believe it to be true and I understand the recoil because I suffer(ed) from a lot of issues related to food and alcohol. But yeah. It helps. A lot. These are some of the most rebellious acts we can do today.

pay attention: observe yourself and your surroundings. If you're unsure, don't say yes or no; say you'll think about it. don't talk or TALK LAST. listen listen listen and listen. Silence is one of the most powerful tools we have.

spend time in nature: which just means pay attention to nature around you. we live in nature, there's no separation. even in the greyest city you are IN nature. You can see the grey clouds. You can hear the rain or the wind. There will be a tree or even one patch of grass somewhere. An insect. A bird. A rat. Roads and buildings are made out of mountains and rocks etc. Water comes out when you turn on the tap.Just observe these things and listen: there are stories to hear.

breathe breathe breathe breathe! pay attention to your breathing. there are many free resources online or even apps that can teach breathing techniques. Maybe it will be uncomfortable at first but you just need to do it for 2 minutes, remember?

this isn't how I started. I took a different route and it took me more than 5 years to realize it was actually this simple. It's simple but it isn't EASY, I know. However, it actually works because these are small ways to reclaim our time as ours and be present in it. Actually living it. Two minutes of meditation there, a little tree-watching here, some shutting up and listening over there, drink more water etc: tiny acts of connection everyday until one day you realize that the door to your heart was always open for you. You just weren't aware of it.