#or rather- fading

[ellaenchanting]

Hypnovember Day 8: Addicted

There was a study she had read in college.

(He might have read it too.)

There were 4 groups of rats. Each one would push a lever and get a food reward. Some rats would get rewarded every time they pushed. Some would get rewarded every other time or every three times. For the last group of rats, their reward was completely random- there was no predictable pattern to when a reward might happen.

Then the food stopped. The first group of rats- the ones who usually always got rewarded- were the first to stop pushing the lever and to go about their regular ratty business. Then the second group. Then the third.

The last group, though, never gave up on the possibility of food. They would anxiously push their little levers over and over, fruitlessly waiting on a reward that would never come again.

She had felt sorry for them. Poor, stupid rats. If only they had known the trap they were in- surely then they could find the will to pull themselves free.

How could she have known differently?

"Hi," she typed in her message to him. "I know you said you'd get in touch with me this week. FYI I'm around all day today if you want to talk!"

Hit send.

Paused.

Added a cute seal picture.

Tried no to wait by her computer for a reply.

He had been a dream answered at first. A famous, well regarded hypnotist was somehow interested in her- an anonymous internet fan. She had never expected a response when she had messaged him about his file but- not only had he thoughtfully answered her questions, he had asked her some back. Why was she interested in hypnosis? What got her started? What was she struggling with? What did she want to experience?

A few rounds of messaging back and forth had led to a call. And THAT call had led to her first actual experience being hypnotized-an incredible one. She felt deep and dreamy and oh so submissive. It had been everything she had hoped it would be- and more. She hadn't expected the praise, especially, to flow over her the way it did- how obedient she was, how pretty like this, what a natural subject- but she soaked it in like a flower soaking in sunshine.

It had felt meaningful.

Important.

After that, they were in constant contact. They sent stories back and forth. Fantasies. Dreams. He was the only one she had truly been able to open up to about her hypnofetish and her desires to be controlled. She wanted it so much- that freedom to let go and let herself be molded. Not only did he seem to understand- he encouraged it. "This is clearly who you are," he said. "Submission comes naturally to you- just like domination comes naturally to me. Why should we be ashamed?"

When he offered to make her HIS submissive, she had jumped at the chance. Of course, they would keep things casual, like he said. She knew he had other submissives he cared for and that things between them didn't need to be exclusive for them to be special. She also agreed that, as part of being His, she wouldn't interact with any other hypnotists besides him. But that was OK. She didn't know any other hypnotists. Plus, it was dangerous, he said, to give your mind to too many people- have too many people trying to make changes. Hypnotic suggestions and compulsions could conflict with each other, you see, and that could create all kinds of mental health issues. He didn't want that for her.

She was touched when he looked out for her like this.

And how could she want anyone else, anyway? Day after day they exchanged text messaged. Text trances. Video calls. He hypnotized her over and over- making her more and more his. There wasn't room for anyone else in her deeply programmed psyche. She could feel his thoughts and influence constantly in her head- changing and building her even while she slept. It was like she was a project they were both working on together.

It felt like being owned.

It felt like love.

Then just as surely as the flood started- it stopped.

At first, the lack of communication made sense. He was sick, he said, and couldn't respond easily to messages. He still texted her frequently though- maybe not for trance, exactly, but at least to let her know he was ok. He'd talk about what was going on his life and she'd tell him what was happening in hers. It felt intimate in a different way. She appreciated his thoughtfulness.

Then he was traveling.

Then he needed some alone time.

Of course she was understanding of all of this. What friend wouldn't want their friend to travel? To have time to recover? She would be selfish to demand otherwise- for the sake of a silly kink, no less. She sent messages of support and understanding throughout the day. When he mentioned bad mental health stuff, she offered to help him look up therapists in his area.

No need, he wrote back. I'm just going through some things.

And when he started releasing files again? She was overjoyed! Finally he was back to doing what he loved. Maybe that meant he was getting better?

She was relieved. Despite being a good understanding sub, she had really started to feel anxious without him. Part of their dynamic was that she craved to hear his voice, that she needed to have his conditioning in her head. She felt a bit distressed going without it for so long. His new files, at least, were giving her something to hold onto. They weren't personal to her and their dynamic, of course, but the suggestions and mantras in them gave her some of the hot submissive feelings she had grown to crave.

"Devoted, dominated, and dependent", she repeated with the girls in the recordings. "Devoted, dominated, and dependent".

Over and over.

It felt so good.

She messaged him every time she listened (and she listened quite frequently). She knew he liked begging, so she would beg him sweetly in her messages for a call. She took and sent videos of herself under his spell- eyes rolled back, repeating the mantras over and over. She knew he liked those.

Sometimes, he responded.

Sometimes they even had a video call.

When they did, it was great. She felt like his suggestions were going deeper and deeper into her mind- like she was giving him more and more of herself. Things she never thought she'd accomplish as a subject- amnesia, hallucinations, orgasm on demand- all of these things seemed within her reach. She couldn't wait to see what he could make her into.

"Thank you sir," she said at the end of one of their calls. "Thank you so much. I'm so happy that I have you."

"Good girl," he said, smirking. "What a good devoted, dominated, dependent slut you are for me."

She beamed at the praise.

"Sir," she finally braved to ask. "I know you've been busy lately. I know a lot of the time you just have energy for recordings. But- could you make a recording just for me? So I could listen to it when you're busy? It would really help me when we can't find time to talk."

His face turned serious. He seemed to be seriously contemplating her question, finding the perfect answer.

"No," he said finally. "I'm sorry, pet. It's not that I don't care. I just- don't want you to get addicted."

She understood, of course. He had always been thoughtful about her safety.

So it continued.

Occasionally she would see his interactions on social media with others. (Not that she hunted for those.) (Too much.)

For instance, he seemed quite drawn to a new girl named Hypnohunty lately. They publicly interacted all the time. She felt a pang of jealousy about this- strong jealousy, hot and sharp like a knife- but she also felt embarrassed by it. There really was no room for jealousy in their relationship. After all, she had knowingly agreed to be in a polyamorous relationship with him. And she didn't want to feel badly towards Hypnohunty, who was new and friendly and seemed sweet (whoever she was).

Improving her jealous personality had even been an consented-to part of her submissive conditioning. Her Sir frequently worked with her (when he worked with her) to help her feel more compersion towards his other submissive partners. After all, sharing was caring and there really weren't enough Doms to satisfy all the needy submissive girls out there. There was no place for her kind of insecurity in healthy kink.

She'd just have to be better at getting his attention.

Sometimes one of her messages would break through. He'd send her a smiley or a fire emoji when she described a hot fantasy. They'd go a few weeks in a row without him canceling their weekly call. They'd even do hypnosis sometimes- when he was up for it.

Then, there would be periods of nothing.

Which is what seemed to be happening now.

She still had hope, though. He had said he would contact her this week, so she would give him every opportunity to reconnect. Even if it meant waiting by the computer. She'd give him that chance.

She was loyal, after all.

Like a good submissive should be.

Thanks to @daja-the-hypnokitten for the mantra help.

Tagging @mentat101posts @thekinkycocktailclub @jam-and-stuff

[wickedcriminal]

Last Unicorn quote stuck out to me so I gave it to Spider-Fox

(the only person willing to be your friend and he didn't show up until long after you already lost all trust in other people)

[divorcedfiddleford]

and you may say to yourself: "my god! what have i done?" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful wife!" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful house!" and you may ask yourself: "well, how did i get here?"

time isn't holding up, time isn't after us, time is a pony ride! (images described in alt text)

[beaulesbian]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

[heymeowmao]

I'm willing to follow you for my whole life. ⭑☽ Fox Spirit Matchmaker: Red-Moon Pact ° E36

[sunlight-shunlight]

anyway the main interesting thing about the masked empire is that it looks like felassan needed like a special herbs and spices blend to meditate deeply enough to actually contact solas? and even then the impression seemed rather murky and vague (perhaps just bc they hadn't decided what solas' personality was ingame at that time), and solas was pretty detached and still on his "this world is garbage and full of tranquil" mindset prior to dai. i feel like if solas had been regularly able to talk to felassan, he'd 1. be more moved by his argument, 2. be aware that felassan's resolve was waning even before being told, and 3. be less likely to kill him point-blank without even a conversation, since he'd be more confident in his ability to talk him back into loyalty

so i think it makes sense if solas was genuinely Asleep a lot of the time, with some phases of more lucid dreaming where he was able to look at the fade/talk to felassan. so his experience would be vaguely stirring in his uthenera every few centuries, getting a fresh batch of bizarre mortal nightmares, and disconnected updates from felassan that went kind of like this:

"hey boss sooo... we lost all the eluvians and floating cities and stuff, and a lot of people just starved, and the veil is really fucking us. but we're ok! actually some round eared little guys showed up. uhhh actually arlathan's gone now and the population got enslaved by the round eared ones. their mages broke one of the seals on the black city and released a blight. oh the humans got into a new religion :) it's anti-slavery, but it DOES hate spirits. but the people have the dales now! another blight. actually another blight again. ohh the humans really got into their new religion... remember the dales i mentioned? yeah those are gone actually. also the survivors are evanuris loyalists and hate you specifically. two more blights. this last one went by super fast, i barely noticed it! hey actually i trained this mortal girl a bit and she's kind of fun, i think we should rethink the plan, and give her the eluvians and let her cook-"

and presumably solas goes "what the FUCK is felassan talking about. he must be going mad, he could easily foil the whole plan if he's lost it like this. goodbye old friend"

[brw]

Ty Johnson is so special to me as a disabled hero and it's very sad to me that modern comics don't seem to include his stutter and learning disability nearly as much. Obviously, the original depictions of his autism and speech impediment were not the most tactful things and certainly the intersection of anti black racism and ableism looms large, but it also feels very sad and a very major missed opportunity to me that the reaction was to take away representation rather than update it with modern language and understandings.

[fortune-maiden]

Thinking about Shao Yuanyuan and her wildcard potential and it hit me today... just how much does she know? Does she live in a time loop similar to Lu Guang or does she hop in and out of the past like Cheng Xiaoshi? Does she know that Cheng Xiaoshi also has a death node?

It suddenly occurred to me to that the Shao Yuanyuan we likely saw during the fire in Ep 4, was either a time leaping SYY from the future or at least one who had information from her future self to know to be in Bridon at this point in time and also a Shao Yuanyuan who might have just realized Cheng Xiaoshi had awakened his own powers.

Given her meeting with Cheng Xiaoshi in Ep 6 where she acts like Cheng Xiaoshi should be aware of how this all works, I suspect that it's because the version of Shao Yuanyuan from Ep 4 arranged this meeting because she encountered Cheng Xiaoshi during the fire and thus knew he would show up in Bridon and go searching for them through Wang Qing. She needed to set up that meeting so she could tell Cheng Xiaoshi face to face not to pursue her anymore (and make things more complicated).

I also think that was her second attempt at doing so - the first being to go back years earlier to tell the Qiao family not to let him go to Bridon. But the future refused to change so she found another opportunity to try again.

And based on Lu Guang's comments it sounds like she would have also failed again in the original timeline. It's not clear how her conversation with CXS went last time (if there was one) but at the very least she might not have had time to make CXS promise not to chase after her anymore, and that would have likely sealed his fate. If anything, a sudden interrupted meeting like that might have even encouraged him further.

And this is all coming from a Shao Yuanyuan from an unknown point in the future...

Anyway this is a lot of words to say where in time is Shao Yuanyuan?

And what the heck does the timeline look like from her perspective?

[bunabi]

how do you upkeep your dragon age obsession i need your brain juices 😔 i'm slowly losing mine

Real 😔

Idk. I just find DA super engaging. Even when it's seriously pissing me off it never stops inviting me to care. About the choices I make, about the companions I meet, about the heroes I create, about Thedas overall. That's what makes (made?) it really special for me.

So I'll keep caring. 💔

[mewguca]

Faded Memories

slivermoon pen doodle

[usagifuyusummer]

More of my de-stressing pen sketches. I'll get back to studying and writing reports after this.... Just trying to figure out how an older Timmy looks (probably very EMO after 13 years old, then back to pastel pink [normal] after 16 lol)

[ganondoodle]

i am very much not normal about Shargon, Zaphira and Eadrya in particular but its so hard to get that across since they are very much only three of many OCs in a gigantic world and story i can never hope to truly bring to paper and it feels like my brain is trying to claw its way out of a prison and the bars are made of diamond

[starry-sophrosyne]

... @toadettely @sopping-wet-cat-wizard y'know, april fools is over, BUT...

"No, what am I saying- That's too mean, I can't do that-" "Fufufu~ But I can~"  (｀▽ ´) // "YOU-" (/｀ᗣ ´ )/

(also for reference bc GUESS WHO CAN PEN- XD /hj /lh /silly):

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(TW: blood/gore, death, car crash incident, graphic imagery)

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S&S: There is a world where Brent never meets Eevee. There is a world where he wakes up one morning, yawning as he rubs his eyes. He'd been somewhat exhausted by his gaming session with "Sofist" last night, not that it was unenjoyable. He gets ready for the day as per usual, nothing out of the ordinary. It's all regular, for now, that is. Walking out of his apartment, he raises an eyebrow at the suspicious amount of cars stuck on the local road. Oh well, a crash of some kind? He shrugs and continues walking down the road. Ducking under some construction, he carefully avoids all the prying eyes and workers, taking his shortcut to the cafe. What he sees when he turns the corner, however? Well..

It's graphical, distraught to say the least. He can see the limb of somebody, splayed across the road in a pool of blood. He winces. Damn? They'd been sloppy setting up the perimeter apparently, blocking it from normal eye-witness view, but not from here. Either way, he couldn't make out too much between the ambulance and the police cars stationed in the intersection.

As for the authorities, he can make out them questioning certain people and speaking into their walkie talkies. Their faces are far away but filled with concern as they discuss with each other. Meanwhile, the paramedics tending to the body on the ground, and.. For some reason, he pauses. It's not in any of his good interests to watch this, to get involved with some random traffic incident of an unfortunate civilian, and yet? Something tugs at him, opposing his normal desire to stay out of conflict and general indifference/apathy. He doesn't know why, why this moment specifically?, but it doesn't.. feel.. weird. It's weirdly urging, instead bringing him to stop in his tracks. As he choicely watches the paramedics ready the body bag, he catches a glimpse of the poor man who had faced the consequences.

His hair was curly, coifs of coffee brown tinged with blood. His facial hair was the same color, and his gaze relaxed. His eyes were partially closed in a stereotypical thought of sleeping, with a glint from the sun revealing his hazed over green eyes, devoid of any brightness. What catches Brent's eye immediately, however, is his bright purple coat. Most of it is soaked with crimson gore, now a dark maroon, but even still. It's such a stand out, he can't help but wonder how the man even got hit in the first place.

After a few more seconds, the guided feeling seems to go away, and he turns his head away from the scene. (Unbeknownst to him, he'd been watching for, comparatively, far longer than a few seconds.) Best to move on, for whatever reason he felt compelled to watch EMTs deal with the body, almost as if he was making sure they would properly take care of him. It was weird, but whatever. He didn't have enough time to stay around and see him get sent off, realizing he was late for his shift. Despite his sudden spike of empathy, it was just another day, just with an unfortunate incident. He prayed for the man though, as he finally set foot onto regular sidewalk. May his soul, and whoever he is, rest in peace, for meeting such an untimely end.

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Walking into the cafe, the door closed behind him with the bell's signature jingle. Vern's head shot up, his face twisted with a hint of concern as he rushed over to Brent, who'd barely placed his bag on the desk before Vern grabbed his shoulders, gripping them firmly and causing Brent to jolt a bit out of surprise.

"Brent! Oh my god, you scared me-" "?" "-I saw the crash nearby, and you- came in a few minutes later than you normally do, and- oh god I'd just thought the worst!" Vern could hardly control himself from his ramble, spilling out his emotions, but he paused when he noticed the rather amused look on Brent's face. Brent only chuckled at him, despite the severity of the situation/his anxiety. Vern gave him a dirty look, but let out a sigh of both relief and annoyance relief, glad to know his friend was okay.

As Vern let go of his shoulders, Brent starting unpacking stuff from his bag. Placing his log sheet and charger down in the little table within the break room, Vern asked:

"Why were you late anyways? You normally show up before I even get here. Did something.. actually happen while you were getting here?" He added tentatively.

"..." He paused, his hands tightening around his laptop, contemplating if it was worth it to tell Vern. About the man he'd seen, eyes hazed over in death, body dull and cold, hair stiff with dried blood. It was something in it of its own right, something that he wished he hadn't seen. But at the same time, the death of this random civilian weighed heavier than it should've in his heart. He didn't know why, but still, maybe it was the sight of his eyes; ones that pierced his soul, staring at him even after passing. They were so.. cold. Almost as if they were blaming, in hatred. His blood chilled, thinking about it all, and a heaviness set in the room. Oh. Man, he'd never felt this way before. He'd just witnessed death, hadn't he? How was he acting like this was all okay?

He held in a sigh, settling for a tight exhale as he shook his head, not looking up from his stuff. No, it was best not to trouble his more emotionally affected friend with his.. issues. Were he to tell Vern, he'd likely become more aggrieved than him. Even still, looking up and noticing Vern's still apprehensive gaze, he feigned a small smile; keeping it up even as he looked back down in the black expanses of his duffel bag, now empty. He couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "I'm serious dude, nothing happened. Don't worry about it."

"... Alright, if you say so." The air was thick with tension, the silence being left unbroken. Vern's footsteps were soft as they padded against the tiled floor, the door slowly creaking closed behind him. One last glance behind his shoulder, before he fully shut the door, putting on a smile to greet the guests that had entered the cafe. Meanwhile, the room had become dimmed sightly with the waning sunlight as the light from the cafe dissipated. Brent stared down once more, as if questioning the true morality behind what he'd seen. With a sigh, his shoulder slumped. Sitting down onto the rickety foldable chair, he put his head in his arms, on top of the table. He wasn't ready to go out. Not just yet. Not while the green eyes of someone haunted him. He couldn't just go and pretend everything was okay, even he had no damn idea why the death of some random stranger had messed him up so badly.

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Vern found him struggling to think of positive messages to write atop his orders for the rest of the afternoon. Brent did not come out of the break room for a long time, and even once he did, he was silent as he worked. Nick didn't come in for coffee that day.

[virtues-end]

A bit nsft ahead!

I'm late to the thirsting over Shea party, but it's still spicy sunday so,,, are there going to be magical/not so magical strap-ons? To make 6' bottoms and afab monsters happy 🤝

Yes, you'll be able to choose from a variety of bottom (and top) options for your character during their first sexual foray. :^)

[fan-kingdoms]

god i wish we had gotten more of twelve with river song. he just meshes so well with her and since their time streams are finally (almost) synced up you don’t feel the imbalance of maturity/knowledge that you get in a lot of eleven’s time with her, and less general timeline “where are they right now what the fuck is happening” fuckery to sort through. just a husband and wife who have lived so much together and know it’s coming to an end very soon so they have to relish it (even if river doesn’t have the knowledge of her own death the way the doctor does, she knows it’s almost over because her diary is running out of pages). and i love watching this older, less theatrical, more rough-around-the-edges doctor with her because it develops their dynamic and the passage of time for the doctor so well. he's not eleven, trying to hide the pain and damage anymore. he doesn't spin off lies and deflections. he wears the hurt and is comfortable in it, and river is there to bring the joy and wonder out. they just have a more mature, beautiful relationship to me.

more thoughts and elaboration under the cut bc i care for your dash <3

twelve and river were such a delight to watch because (this is getting into hot take territory here sorry) once capaldi took over from matt smith, the show basically gave up on the whole “the doctor is very attractive and all the women want him” narrative that it pushed for eleven. of course it was there with ten but i think it got Egregious with eleven. moffat really wanted us to believe matt smith was the hottest man in the universe (and he’s not unattractive! i admit i thought he was attractive when i first watched doctor who years and years ago! the writing was just over the top with it!) twelve is not some young whimsical prettyboy anymore— he’s abrasive, blunt, and old. the show doesn’t treat him like he’s supposed to be attractive, which makes him and river’s relationship feel so real.

first off i want to point out that river is still very much attracted to the doctor in his new body which was so exciting for me because how often to we get to see romance and desire and (sexually) intimate relationships in people past the age of 35??? hardly ever! how often do we see a beautiful woman expressing desire for a man that’s not young or conventionally handsome NOT because she has ulterior motives or we’re supposed to believe he’s actually the sexiest man alive but because she simply loves him? how often do we see relationships where no matter how much change they go through, even when one of them has turned into an entirely different person (figuratively or literally), the love stays steady and unchanged? especially when these changes involve aging? there isn’t nearly enough. and seeing it is kind of healing for me, just a reminder that you can have love and intimacy and passion even when you’re not “young and beautiful” anymore

twelve and river’s relationship is just charged with so much shared experience and trust and i wish we had gotten to see more of it. in conclusion i want a special that recaps the 24 years on darillium thank you and goodbye

[saltyowlets]

Gotta love *looks at notes* narratives that demonize the minority/indigenous religion that had been victims of oppression and colonization by the religion that demonized them in the first place.

Love it.