#okay so you know that thing where you try to draw something

[nerdygirlramblings]

omegaverse 141

a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂

cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned

previous

In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.

"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.

You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.

"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"

You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.

"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"

You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.

He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.

The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.

Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."

"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"

"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."

Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ta ya. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."

You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"

Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.

"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.

"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."

And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.

You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.

next

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION #385032: Shape-shifting genitals, mouth-mashing skillsets, who taps out first in the bedroom and the 17 different types of meat this guy eats.

I TRIED TO MAKE THIS A BIG ONE. Thank you everybody for your patience!

The truth of the matter is that I need one dramatic light-source or I will perish. HOWEVER...

Yeah, they seem the type to leave it purposefully ajar for the thrill of it. As well as the excuse to bring hell down upon anyone caught trying to steal a peek.

YES, actually! I've had the concept for a comic or two that's precisely about interactions they've had while younger. Comics take a lot of work, and there's a LOT of things I want to do, but that is definitely in the plans.

Yes! Or rather, as a shapeshifter, I believe she doesn't bother with them 99% of the time, possibly never, even though she has the habitability to form them if she so wished. The Orin DU drow knew was always doll-like in appearance when nude, and he did not particularly mind it or fantasized about anything different.

I believe this is both a preference in Orin's part (and across many shapeshifters, if I recall correctly) as well as a strategic choice.

And thank you so much!

[MORE BELOW THE CUT]

I don't know, kissing isn't that hard LOL I think they're pretty even-leveled in technique but Astarion is the tonguier one.

ALL IN DUE TIME, MY FRIEND, ALL IN DUE TIME...

Maybe 😊 🤫though I'm not sure how useful his powers would be in that context.

That said, Indeed! The irony of this match isn't lost on anyone. I'm sure Astarion would have some thoughts about the convenience of it.

I know this is more of a jokey message, but I don't think Astarion would be cool with that sort of thing, and DU drow most definitely wouldn't ask 😂

Whatever works, as he would probably say!

Astarion got drunk through DU drow on occasion while he still fed on him, yes LOL I don't care if that makes sense or not, It's a hysterical concept and definitely factual in my canon. To be fair as well, DU drow is a huge man and has to drink a LOT to get properly wasted - so Astarion wouldn't have to consume a whole lot from him to get on a similar level!

Post a few particular post-campaign events, Astarion gets drunk through strangers' blood that were either piss-drunk already or have been fed alcohol forcibly by the pair.

He likes thick stews, braised pork, and meat-pies the most. Don't ask me when or why I've decided this but he likes octupi as a every-once-in-a-while treat - I think he mostly enjoys the experience of eating it more than the taste.

For drinks, he likes beer, red semi-dry wine, and mead the most. He also likes a GOOD whisky - none of the copper-coin garbage they serve at most Inns.

Hi! Incredible question. DU drow can go indefinitely but when he stops he knocks out in record speed. There usually comes a point where Astarion flops over and lets him do all the work.

You know how, shortly after you find out about it, if you tell Astarion that you're frightened of your origins you get that really heartfelt bit of dialogue about how yourself and him are so much alike, and how he feels similarly powerless before Cazador as you do toward your father? Well, I never got that, because DU drow was too busy squinting into the horizon and contemplating the logistics of his conception which prompts Astarion to, essentially, say something along the lines of "Okay, if all you want to do is discuss your dad's cum I'm out"

So, like that.

They didn't smash in the graveyard! I'm hoping to either write a short thing about it, draw something inspired by how the scene went down in my head, or, ideally, both!

That IS kind of a wild comparison but I'm guessing you know about my origins, LOL.

Not... Quite. I'm reluctant to say more because I would like for it to be a surprise that I bring you all through art (even if you can make a pretty accurate deduction based on what has been said so far) but suffice to say that this is the flipside to the Bhaalist DU drow AU.

I don't think I could find the time 😭😭😭 but that's a hysterical idea and I would gladly mash together a bunch of clips if someone else was willing to highlight them!

Hello and thank YOU for humoring me in my nerdy little forays!

I hadn't heard about Model/Actriz but I had a little sneak-peek and, indeed, this might just be right up my alley LOL

It's hard for me to remove these characters from their intended universe so I have a difficult time picturing what they would listen to if the options didn't all sound like string-y bardcore music. I'm sure there are more genres to speak of in DnD lore, I'm just ignorant of them!

That said I do have some thoughts about which of them even enjoy music at all.

REALLY enjoys music: DU drow, Jaheira, Misc, Karlach, Wyll.

Modestly enjoys music: Gale, Shadowheart, Minthara, Halsin.

Generally doesn't enjoy music: Astarion, Lae'zel.

No notes just canonical character information being shared

I forgot what this one was in reference to for a moment and I was so aghast.

I really, really hope you weren't hoping for me to give you work-out advice because both, if you were, you've come to the wrong man.

But if you're just wondering about lore here, I think it's a solid 50/50. I think he's predisposed to a really well-built physique because Daddy Bhaal said so AND he's incredibly active and incidentally does a lot of manual labor. If he's had a few too many sedentary days in a row (which is rare) he pretty much has to tire himself through at-home routines or he goes a little cuckoo-bananas as well.

And thank you for being interested in my little freak!

He's pretty thoroughly desensitized, and thinks far too little of Orcs and half-orcs to be intimidated by them, even when that lack of fear is downright stupid. He's not impervious to fear, however, despite how hard he tries to be - Myrkhul, Grym, the giant Steelwatch, the brain, and even Cazador AFTER he snatched Astarion away were all encounters that made his blood run cold to varying degrees. I think it takes an unfamiliar foe for his sweat to run a little cold.

(Ironically, Raphael had no such effect on him.)

[forest-hashira]

First Impressions

finished this last night but am finally deciding to post it lol. pls be nice to me + my first fic of the year.

read on ao3 | wc: ~1.3k | cw: gn reader, established/implied stsg, reader is implied to have bipolar disorder & a cursed technique, reader almost gets wrecked, bilingual reader & stsg, gojo is oblivious/flippant & it pisses reader off, meet ugly, extremely selfship coded

“Oh, fuck!” 

You barely managed to jump out of the way before a piece of concrete the size of a car flew through the air, smashing into the wall behind where you’d been standing a moment before. You could feel your heartbeat everywhere – your ears, the tips of your fingers, even the soles of your feet – and you fought to get it under control.

This cursed spirit was more than you could handle on your own, and not by a small margin either; you couldn’t remember the last time you’d struggled so much to exorcise a curse on your own. You’d exorcised curses nearly this strong before, sure, but you’d been working with other sorcerers on those missions. 

Being sent on this mission alone felt like a jab from the higher ups: you’d demonstrated on a few occasions when you were manic that you were capable of huge surges of cursed energy output – almost on par with Special Grade sorcerers, or so you’d been told – and that you could take on curses above your official rank as a Grade Two sorcerer, but everyone knew you had no control of when that happened or how long it would last. With that in mind, you could only assume the higher ups were trying to trigger a surge of cursed energy from you, with apparently no concern about whether you died in the process.

You found that you were quite pissed off by that idea. Holding onto that anger quickly dropped down your list of priorities when more concrete started to fly through the air; it landed somewhere after survive, get the fuck out of there, and maybe exorcise the curse. 

No matter where you scrambled off to, no matter where you hid, the curse seemed to know exactly where you were, throwing huge chunks of debris in your direction and barely leaving you the time to draw a breath, let alone try to launch a counterattack. Eventually, there was a few moments of still silence. Whether the curse had run out of things to throw, had tired itself out, or something else entirely, you weren’t sure, but you knew it was your now or never moment.

Taking a steadying breath, you stood from your hiding spot, expecting to finally see the spirit again. Instead, you were met with the sight of a manhole cover flying straight at your head. 

Everything after that was a blur. Instead of your head being turned into strawberry jelly by a giant metal frisbee, something tackled you out of the way, and you watched someone step up to the curse. You fully expected the person to be instantly killed, but much to your shock, the curse seemed to collapse in on itself, crinkling and buckling and growing smaller and smaller until it burst into a cloud of ash.

“Are you okay?”

The voice was gentle and filled with concern, and when you tipped your head back to look at the speaker, you were a bit surprised by what you found.

Hovering over you was Geto Suguru, Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer, and all you could think was What is he doing in Kyoto?

When he didn’t get a response, Geto asked you again if you were okay, though this time he asked in English, rather than Japanese. Part of you found that sweet, while another, smaller part of you was annoyed, even if you knew it was fair for him to assume you may not speak Japanese.

“I’m fine,” you replied after a moment, making a point to answer in Japanese, even if it was a little harder with all adrenaline flooding your system and scrambling your thoughts. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said easily, offering you a small smile and helping you to your feet once again. “Can’t let a good sorcerer die if I can help it.”

“How do you know I’m a good sorcerer?” you asked, somewhat teasingly.

He smiled a bit wider at your words. “Because you didn’t run away, even though you were outmatched.”

“Does that make me good at my job, or just stupid?”

Before Geto could reply, Gojo appeared behind him, a huge grin on his lips. “Good thing we were here to step in,” he said, in English, which only served to irritate you all over again. “You would’ve been toast without us!”

Despite the fact that you had never met Gojo Satoru, Special Grade and Strongest Living Jujutsu Sorcerer, before this moment, his reputation preceded him, and so far, he was living up to the image of the smug, snarky, self-absorbed ass that existed in your head, thanks in no small part to everything you’d heard Iori-sensei say about him while you were under her tutelage.

“I would’ve figured it out,” you groused, pointedly not looking at him as you began to brush the dust off of yourself.

“With your brains splattered on the bricks of an abandoned building?” he laughed, “I highly doubt that.”

“Satoru,” Geto reprimanded, but the other just ignored him.

“Nothin’ wrong with needing help, y’know,” Gojo continued. “Everyone needs help sometimes. Not us, on missions anyways, but. Plenty of sorcerers need backup on almost all their missions! It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

That pissed you off, and you shot him the most venomous glare you could. “I’m not helpless, and despite how young I know I look, I’m not a child, and I don’t appreciate being spoken to like one. I am a capable Grade Two sorcerer, who the higher ups apparently decided to either test or kill, with no care about what the outcome was. I can take care of myself. I would have figured it out, very much.”

He cocked his head as you spoke, and when you finished, he shrugged. “If you say so. Looked to me like you were about to become a stain on the ground.”

“Satoru!” Geto sounded properly scandalized then, and though he turned to you, presumably to apologize, you cut him off. Gojo’s words snapped something inside of you, and you let him have it.

“And what if I was? Sorcerers die every single day in our line of work! It’s great that you just get to see this as some sort of game and have fun with it, but the rest of us aren’t that lucky! The rest of us lowly, regular sorcerers have to be intensely aware of every second we’re on a mission, of every injury we sustain; we have to be aware that every time we’re sent on a mission, there’s a chance we’ll never make it home, that we’ll never get to say goodbye to the people we care about. So make all the jokes you want, asshole, and take credit for this mission, since you’re so eager to emphasize that you’re the reason I’m walking away from this. But you need to get a grip and realize that this isn’t a game for everyone else like it is for you. If we run into each other on a mission again in the future, don’t step in unless you’re asked. Nobody’s going to take me seriously if I can’t even complete my own missions.”

As soon as you finished speaking, you turned on your heel and stalked off. Your voice hurt from screaming at him the way you had, and you knew it wasn’t exactly the most mature thing to do, but you couldn’t take the words back. 

Whatever, you thought to yourself, pulling out your phone to call the supervisor to come and pick you up now that the curse had been exorcised. He’s Gojo Satoru. Why would he care whether I like him or not?

divider by cafekitsune

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[pope-bunny-chara]

okay at this point you are both saying the exact same things at each other in a cycle. You are both indicating you don't feel safe because the other indicated they don't feel safe around you. This is becoming overtly recursive due to the lack of specificity, and I think the public nature of the conversation (you, an identifiable visibly public figure speaking to and about a nameless identityless blob of individuals with a shared cultural category) is going to make it definitionally impossible to become something constructive, meaningful, or beneficial. I think you are a very smart and wonderful person, and I sincerely believe you should step away from this and spend time unpacking it with people you trust instead. 80% of this feels like the result of misapplied public rhetoric being misinterpreted and misconstrued by people scared of how that rhetoric could and has been used to hurt them in the past. During a time when general rhetoric about transness has become more violent and accusatory, I cannot justifiably blame anyone for being on edge. I don't believe you're necessarily wrong about anything you have specifically said on this subject, and I'm sure it's been helpful to many people in illuminating or giving words to a real issue present among trans communities. But I also genuinely believe it's making the issue worse, it's encouraging further distrust and accusatory rhetoric, it's encouraging trans women only speak to and trust people who are specifically like them. I am a trans woman, and every space I hang out in is dominantly other trans women, I don't think trans men and women feel safe interacting with each other in many online spaces as is. And, idk, personally that's just already sad and not ideal to me. It seems intuitive to me that the solution would be to build trust further, to try to listen to why people feel scared and uncomfortable and not accuse the other of being the problem wholly onto themselves. But i just keep seeing trans girls telling other trans girls that they're right to distrust this other group, that they should keep to themselves, that they don't have to listen or adjust or take into consideration how this other group might feel, cause they're right to feel that way. And perhaps they are, perhaps any one feeling is wholly justified, but where does this get us as a habitual community policy? as something espoused publicly as the correct mode of thinking? is that going make any part of this better? Cause at the moment I don't see how. Maybe I'm just naive idk.

Above all, I think it's just bad for you personally. I don't think you are in a place where you're capable of taking on the role of spokesperson here. I think it's drawing unwanted attention to you, driving you further in paranoia, and putting a target on your back when you need it least. I don't know you personally, I have mutual friends with you who seem worried about you, but I can't speak for you on this, maybe this Rules for your mental health, but it doesn't seem like it. And I don't think you're like, doing any of this on purpose. I don't think you mean to sound accusatory and aggressive to any trans masc person who might be sensitive but otherwise well meaning. I know you're trying and mean to draw attention and help work towards a solution to a real issue. I know their are extremely bad actors misrepresenting and using the worst interpretations of everything you've ever done and said to vilify and hurt you and I'm so sorry that's happening. But you also wield and phrase public rhetoric in a deeply reckless way that ends up communicating a lot of stuff you don't mean to. And I don't think it's your fault, I don't think it would even matter in most cases. But more and more it's becoming clear to me that, this is helping no one. or at the very least, it's hurting more people than it might be benefiting. It's hurting you, it's causing more paranoia and seeded distrust among scared trans women and men alike, it's widening a chasm I think we should be working to mend. I'm doing my best to express my thoughts here, and I'm scared it'll just be taken as more fuel to the fire, that I'm just accusing you further, and I don't want that. I think if nothing else, you'll probably find this message annoying or distasteful in some fashion I didn't intend it to. I'm sorry, I wish I had said all this more gracefully than I'm capable of, and maybe I'm just wrong. Or you'll just ignore it, idk. But this has just been, deeply upsetting to observe, I don't like how the usual response has just been to reaffirm in either direction that we should talk to eachother less. I hate it. I'm sorry. I hope you're okay, you deserve to be happy, you don't deserve any of how people have been treating you, I don't want this message to feel like it's just adding onto that.

hello. i have immense respect for you as a person, a dog, an artist, a fellow autistic plural system with lifelong trauma. i am afraid of you. i have felt disproportionately miserable-- i have come closer to crisis than i have in years-- due to that one ask you answered about transmascs, particularly its consequences. i am afraid of seeking community with the trans sisters who need it most. i would like to stop being afraid of you; i will likely never speak to you directly [1/2]

No one will feel safe around you if you act like this whenever someone feels unsafe around you, please stop.

[blueberrybeomgyu]

hihi berry :333 i have finally come to tell u about my maso sub taesan thoughts 🤫

im thinking overstimulating him until it hurts, but not only just through multiple orgasms but also stimulating him in different ways all at once. keeping a vibrator stuck to his leaky aching cock while you sit on his thighs, running your sharp nails down his skin hard enough to draw blood, maybe clamping his nipples and pulling at them. pinching his tummy and his thighs, yanking at his hair — when his head is pulled back like that you slap him till his cheeks are red and he’s drooling under you, skin tingling.

i think hed be a little bratty, a little mouthy just to get you to hurt him more. wants your slaps and degrading words to be genuine instead of you just doing it because he likes it. tie him up with rope instead of handcuffs so its rougher on his skin so he can’t squirm too much, and maybe shove a gag in his mouth or tape it shut, loves the feeling of you ripping the tape off <3

get one of those mini floggers even (the tiny whips that are stringy, idk how to explain them) and drag it across his skin before striking him with it, around his collarbones, nipples, stomach, his cock, and his thighs. he lovesss when you use it on his cock, it just hurts so good and he cant control the way his body jerks every time the leather makes contact with his most sensitive parts. pinch his thighs and coo at him while he just looks so pathetic under you, he camt do anything but take everything you do to him but he wouldn’t have it any other way !!

okay i got carried away… but im very serious ab this topic so i hope u fw it heavy <33 - 🥝🩷

MY KIWI GIRL 😣😣😣😣 u know wtf im talking about!!! let me think about how to make this masterpiece any better (impossible) small text cause there's a lot to say

taesan lovesloveslovesss when it feels like there's too much to focus on, he can't be too in his head about anything and will finally have a clear mind where he can just focus on you and how you make him feel.

he's already so sensitive cause of the vibrator, and he's trying to tune in on that feeling to calm down a little, but then you run your nails over his tummy or tug on the nipple clamps and there's too much calling for his attention, it feels like there's something happening on every area of his body and it's so overwhelming, when you slap his cheek he's shuddering through a sob and another orgasm, helpless to hold back his pitiful noises, he'll sound so whiny and pathetic in a way that has him humiliated when the scene is over

thinking of taesan and vibrators always makes me think of bunny's taesan a-z, vibrators on him are the best way to overstimulate him, i think he lasts pretty long typically but with vibrators, it's like he can barely think before he's cumming and he loves that, he also loves that you keep pulling orgasms out of him despite him begging you to stop, the lack of control is a little frustrating and that only makes it better for him -- that no matter what he says, he's powerless in this situation

he lovess being slapped and when you introduce floggers he's so turned on by the idea, he's a little impatient as you trail the flogger across his skin, he just wants to get on with it, but the built up tension only makes it better when you actually strike him with it, blindfold him and he has no idea where or when you're going to strike him next, trying so hard to tell where you are based on your condescending words

i love bratty taesan, he's not necessarily a mean boy but he'll say things like is that all? this is nothing, even when he's so sensitive and spent, he's finding a way to mouth off bc if he can form words it's not enough, he needs to feel so ruined and helpless that he can barely think, can barely defend himself when you insult him

i think sensory deprivation is a big yes for taesan, and overstimulating the senses he does have, make him wear noise canceling headphones, plug his mouth, blindfold him, and it's all the better when you press a vibrator to his tip and jerk him off, he has no idea what he sounds like so he can't hold back his muffled whines, he's hyper focused on the scent of your perfume clung to the sheets, and his fists are clenching and unclenching around nothing where they're bound by the ropes, can't use his hands to clean up the spit dribbling down his chin, he's so beautiful like that

i think he's mostly a whimperer/panter and his voice can get all soft and breathy, wincing when you peel the tape off of his mouth to ask him what he's so noisy for, and by the time you finally sink down on his cock, he can barely do anything but look up at you with shiny eyes, nodding along when you call him a slut or acknowledge that he'll let you do anything to him as long as he gets to bleed for you

[purpledemonlilyposting]

I'm sorry anons but like... even if sai dared to police someone's ship in another server... like... so what? Ignoring the fact that it was resolved a year ago... butting heads is not a crime? You find her unpleasant, dont like her, that's fine. What do you want out of this? You still feel this strongly about that after a year? Even if you yourself where involved in the event that's quite a grudge to hold for such a none issue.

What happened was I had discussed with this person before that I find art shipping Greg and Pearl kind of upsetting and if they could spoiler it if they were going to share it to our work server, they went the extra mile and elected not to share it at all.

They came into Nug's server one day soon after asking if it was okay to share the same art, I had a kneejerk reaction of "really dude?" They said oh sorry I didn't know you were here, deleted the images, and then all hell broke loose.

No matter how I tried to apologize for having that little kneejerk response, or how hard BOTH of us tried to explain to Nugget how we know each other and what the previous incident was he went completely, unnecessarily hostile on me. He wouldn't even listen to the supposed "victim" who was trying to explain the exact same things to him I was.

It was only after I had about 5 or 6 people mocking and berating me for daring to have a kneejerk reaction to something I perceive as homophobic they told me I could have asked for the images to be spoilered. Reminder I never asked for them to be removed, my colleague just did that automatically by their own decision and tried to calmly give their reasoning for doing so while Nugget ranted and raved and demanded they put the images back up.

And then I left the server. And my colleague left too. And then I simply stopped interacting with Nug and the others who were fuckasses to me at all.

And that apparently was enough to draw a huge amount of ire from them and people like Starlit. Seeing as Nugget couldn't even let it go over six months later and tried to rub it in my face all over again like a salty little bitch.

But hey if the Stevencest Goonsquad wants to send asks about these things I guess I'll answer!

[risto-licious]

I don't know if this is madness or just a character trait that is simply engrained into my very core BUT. On some days I feel like my soul puts me in this weird LIMBO OF EMOTIONS. Let's say there's a bad day. Just one bad day. Mood is low, energy is low and thoughts go right into melancholic hopelessness. As one does, sometimes. We're all human. There is this relentless STUBBORN OPTIMISM inside of me that seems to AUTOMATICALLY TRIGGER on those days, which INSTANTLY fights back against the shit mood, trying it's hardest to somehow lift my spirits up. AND IT MAKES ME FEEL SO WEIRD. Like something inside of me doesn't even allow myself to have a bad day, as if you're sleepy but someone is shaking your slumpy body and goes like HEY HEY HEY WAKE UP YOU FOOL LET'S GET GOING. I feel like it might stem from a deep, firm knowledge that nothing nice for future me grows out of those bad days. Because I usually already know what is troubling me. And when I cry. Feel down. Cry some more. Get a headache. I never feel better or wiser after I allow my bad mood to fully unfold. I SENSE NO FEELING OF RELEASE or ease after a so called good cry. And most of the time my optimism WINS THE GAME EITHER WAY. Making me this weird MELANCHOLIC but also HAPPILY UPBEAT idiot most of my days. The fact that in these times it feels like madness is because I feel like in a CONSTANT INBETWEEN. I cannot even do moody grouchy bad mood VENT ART without something in me saying: NOPE, THAT'S NOT YOU and you KNOW IT. While the other half howls: GOD DAMMIT JUST LET ME FEEL LIKE SHIT FOR ONE DAY. And the other half keeps stubbornly refusing: STILL NOPE LOL. All these silly internal battles, while on the outside I seem completely normal, chill and calm. AND ACTUALLY: I AM DOING OKAY. I am doing good. And I still feel that this is really just my very very funky personality. I suppose that stubborn part is simply trying to make use of my bad days and frustrations, actively urging myself to have somthing NEW seep out of it, some NEW DIRECTION of where to navigate next in my life. Little by little, step by step! I like when things go forward, even when life feels stagnant, deteriorating even. Basiacally: NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE A SHIT DAY, at least not without drawing something out of it for future steps to take. Even if sometimes the future simply feels hopeless. AND THAT WAS THAT. Thanks for coming to my silly thought ramble out into the open. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHETHER IT HELPED TYPING ALL THAT DOWN. Or if it made any sense at all. If you've somehow read this up until here.....I hope you're having a good start into the weekend! Wishing that for you!

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

What’s your headcanons for stuilly as kids?

Asks like this are always welcome!!

Stu and Billy, aka Stuilly: As Kids

. Billy loves animated movies so much. He loves animation as a whole, so he's been planning to take animation in college

. Billy practices animating with paper and pencils, the easy two page pencil trick

. Stu draws stick figures in sexual positions while Billy animated, that way they both get to draw their hearts out

. They both watch so many Disney movies a week, it's insane. They sit close together, share a blanket, and usually fall asleep before the second-to-last song

. Stu collects dead bugs on his way to school, while in school, and on the way home from school. He keeps these deceased bugs in his pencil case

. At the end of each day, he empties the dead bugs into an old shoe box, where he keeps hundreds of dead bugs. You know, cool collection or something

. Stu and Billy have tons of sleepovers, almost every week, where they pile up blankets on the floor and sleep in that pile. No bed needed for 10 year olds to sleep

. They also camped in Stu's backyard a few times a year. They had a tent and told ghost stories, and ate marshmallows (they didn't bother with the old fire pit)

. Billy gifts rocks and crunchy leaves to Stu whenever he's in a good mood, or Stu does something he likes, but he doesn't know what to say

. Billy read Frankenstein in 3rd grade but hated it so much. He then read it again in 7th grade. It has been his favorite book since then

. The game of Tag was always a good one. They liked chasing each other at the park, using the jungle gym as obstacles. Sometimes sticks and scratches were involved

. Hide and Seek where Billy refused to hide, so Stu would hide and Billy would scare the shit outta him every time he found him. Stu once scared Billy because for once Billy didn't know where Stu was hiding. He ended up with a knocked out tooth (it's okay, it was wiggly anyways)

. Stu grew up listening to Queen because of his parents, and he honestly loved them. He dressed up as Freddy Mercury in 6th grade. No one knew who he was supposed to be

. Stu had his first guy crush on Freddy Mercury, but he didn't know what being bi was. Plus his table mate was trying to chase him at recess, which is his and Billy's thing, so he was too preoccupied to process a crush

. Stu accidentally staple his finger in 4th grade

. Billy saw Stu staple his finger, walked up to him, pulled it out of Stu's hand, stared him in the eyes, and said: "you might want to get a band aid. You are tempting the vampires like me."

. Stu then proceeded to think Billy was a vampire all the way till summer vacation. Yes, Stu wore turtle necks for three months straight so Billy the vampire couldn't bite his neck

. Not knowing a thing about Shakespeare, Billy and Stu call out to each other, "O Romeo, O Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" in the most dramatic tone ever. They'll drop to their knees in front of the other and be the dramatic gays they are. (they don't even know where it's from)

. Billy was at a family event when he was 10. He was sitting at the table and saw a shot glass of whiskey. He thought it was apple juice so he drank it

. Stu and Billy like to play 2 person Red Rover. Basically, they run at each other and try to knock the other person to the ground. It always ends with Billy on Stu's stomach, the boy on top giving a rock from his pocket to the other boy

[pear1escen]

𝒥ℰℒ𝒪𝒰𝒮𝒴; 𝒢𝓁𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒶❦

The day was typical at Shiz University—sunlight pouring in through the large windows of the common room, a soft hum of conversation, and the faint scratch of pens against parchment as students worked away at their assignments. You, being one of the more sociable people in the class, found yourself caught in the middle of a conversation with a fellow student you had just met, a charming young man named Trent. His grin was easy, his voice smooth as silk, and for some reason, you couldn’t help but feel drawn into the ease of his attentions.

"So, have you ever been to the Emerald City?" Trent asked, leaning in just a little too close for comfort. "I hear it's even more impressive than Shiz. Not that Shiz is anything to scoff at, of course... but something about the lights, the grandeur of it all. You should let me take you there sometime."

You chuckled awkwardly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with how forward he was being. It was flattering, yes, but you weren’t sure where to draw the line. You glanced over to your friend, Glinda Upland, who had been watching you intently from across the room.

At first, Glinda seemed perfectly absorbed in her own conversation with a couple of other students, but as Trent continued to speak, a shift occurred. Her posture stiffened ever so slightly. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something in her demeanor changed, and you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

"Well, I’ve been to the Emerald City, but honestly, I think the best part is the company you keep while you’re there," you said with a gentle laugh, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground. You didn’t want to seem rude, but the last thing you needed was a date with Trent at the moment.

Trent chuckled, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "And who would that be? Someone like me?"

You shifted uncomfortably, but before you could formulate a response, Glinda’s voice rang out from across the room.

"Trent, isn’t it?" Glinda’s tone was sweet, but there was a certain sharpness underneath. "I believe you were looking for me earlier, weren't you?"

The sudden shift in energy was palpable. You watched, slightly stunned, as Trent’s confident grin faltered for a fraction of a second. Glinda, with her characteristic confidence, strode over, her blonde curls bouncing with every step.

"Glinda!" Trent greeted her with a polite but somewhat nervous smile. "Of course, I remember you."

"Of course you do," Glinda replied, her voice smooth, but you could sense the subtle edge beneath her words. She turned to you, her smile softening. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I just noticed you two talking, and I wanted to make sure everything was... going well."

You blinked at the sudden change in her tone. Was it possible that Glinda was... jealous?

Trent, who seemed unaware of the shift in the air, chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, no trouble at all. We were just having a friendly chat. No harm in that, right?"

Before Trent could respond, Glinda gently but firmly placed a hand on your shoulder and steered you away with a swift, practiced motion. Once you were far enough from the group, she finally let out a deep breath, her posture relaxing but her expression still holding a hint of tension.

"Glinda?" you asked, confused. "Is everything okay?"

She let out a soft laugh, though it was laced with something you couldn’t quite place. "Of course, darling. Everything’s just perfect. I just don’t like seeing my friends... distracted by certain people."

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. "Distracted? By Trent?"

Glinda’s eyes flicked over to where Trent was now standing with a group of students, oblivious to what had just transpired. "You know how it is. Some people just don’t know how to take a hint." She shrugged, though her tone was slightly sharper than usual. "But it’s nothing to worry about. He’ll learn eventually."

You raised an eyebrow. "You’re not... jealous, are you?"

Glinda froze for a moment, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. Then, as if realizing what she had just admitted, she laughed again—this time, more genuinely, but with a bit of sheepishness. "Jealous? Me? Please. I just don’t think someone like him is... worthy of your attention, that's all."

You chuckled softly, realizing that Glinda’s protective streak, while often hidden under her polished exterior, ran deeper than you thought. "Glinda, you’re being a little overprotective."

"Maybe," she conceded, her smile softening. "But only because I care about you. You're one of the few people who actually see me for who I am, not just the Glittering Glinda everyone thinks they know." Her voice dropped to a softer, more sincere tone. "And I just... don’t want to share you."

You couldn’t help but smile at her honesty, feeling warmth spread through your chest. Glinda, despite her glamorous persona, had a vulnerable side that not many saw. And right now, it was all for you.

"Well, then," you said playfully, "I guess I’ll have to make sure Trent knows he’s not a competition, huh?"

Glinda’s face lit up, and she gave you a wink. "Oh, darling. I think he already knows."

[talefoundryshow]

There's something unsettling about the only "official" depiction of Chutulhu being a rough sketch of a statue of the real thing. Very on-brand.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

reread tiphs dialog recently. i love them lots

[coriander-candlesticks]

I'm sick so I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense, but I've been thinking about the nature of myths recently as I've been exploring hellenic polytheism.

For context: I'm ex-Mormon. I was raised in the church and, because of that, was taught biblical literalism but in, like, a more subtle way than most? I was raised believing that Adam & Eve and Noah's Ark, etc., were literally true, but that the story of Job specifically was not; I also always knew evolution and the Big Bang to be correct, despite there being a verse in the Doctrine & Covenants (a Mormon-specific religious book) where God apparently told Joseph Smith that the world is 6,000 years old- a passage I didn't know existed until my senior year of high school. I didn't realize I had believed in biblical literalism until I'd left the church, actually.

Now that I'm aware of it, it's a mindset I'm actively trying to combat while I explore Hellenic polytheism. It's definitely been a task to separate the nature of the Gods from their myths, as brutal as they often are. And it's something I've noticed within the community, too, which I think is interesting. It makes sense: Christianity, at least, has had a chokehold on much of the world for a long time, and so many of us have experienced literalism as our first interaction with any sort of holy text (though, of course, Greek myths as a whole aren't that) alongside our first experience with divinity as a wrathful God whose flaws are waved away, or ignored, or twisted into positive attributes. This also means that I'm trying to re-approach several deities with an open mind (Zeus, Hera, and Ares in particular, but many of them to some extent) while also trying to un-condition myself. I was already in the process of doing this, of course, but trying to figure out how to interact with a completely different pantheon has made that especially clear.

It extends to things like prayer and offerings, too. Prayers were very formulaic growing up, even though most of the time there wasn't a strict script to follow. There was always something you ask as part of the prayer, even if it's just 'please help me do better tomorrow' (alongside giving thanks, of course), so trying to craft a prayer without adding *everything* I'm used to including in makes it feel incomplete and, therefore, disrespectful. And daily prayer is something I'm resistant to because of prior experiences with it. I don't want to offend any of the gods by asking for something or asking for too much, especially so early on, and there's always a promised offering the few times I *have* asked. Add worries about exact obedience on top of that and it's proving to be a difficult thing to untangle. And I know that the gods are difficult to offend, figuring out how to do this takes trial & error and that's okay, it'll get better the more I do it, etc., etc.; this is more an issue with my own overthinking than anything else (hooray for ✨ mental health issues ✨). I'm not really asking for advice here, necessarily, just thinking out loud because I'm not comfortable talking to people in meat space about it yet.

[redbootsindoriath]

Fëanorian Week 2023, Day 3: Celegorm (and a horse)

“I’m not going to give Maglor an instrument” I said, “it would be too fragile” I said, and then I gave Celegorm a bow and arrows.  So we’re going to say that at least the arrows are bronze rods painted to resemble stone.

Also I’m pretty sure I haven’t drawn a horse in upwards of a year, so...yeah.  I apologize for the wonky structure and shading, especially on and behind the shoulders.

[keeps-ache]

cat bit up my arm Gwah

[crossbackpoke-check]

re last answer: please don't stop, being very unhinged about these two pretty white boys is helping distract me from the sharks losing streak rn so bring it on

https://www.tumblr.com/bondedpairs/764566430180147200?source=share

(sideblog woes but there's the link for you) anyway in the vid they talk about going over to each other's houses to have dinner and things and while that is a delicious example of their codependence i love it bc through an rpf lens there is definitely some old man ******* going on. they can have the dilfs and each other.

(someone else mentioned kept boys which i could write an essay on but i fear being Perceived™️)

anyway if you have anything to add to this please do, if not ignore me and i will hide under a rock until the stress-related insanity has worn off and i am a functioning member of society once more 😂

- @bondedpairs

ty for the video!!! and please, WRITE THE KEPT BOYS ESSAYYYY i promise i will read it with my hands over my eyes if you don’t want to be perceived. do it scared!! do it anyway!! we’ll all love you for it!!!

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them