#put me back in my enclosure

[vampiresfromxenon]

I’m incredibly sick, in a completely different part of the world, and surrounded by people constantly so I never have a second to myself. Occasionally I’ll find time to sneak off (hiding in bathrooms) and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just digging through Astarion fanart to help me stay calm-

I’m not really a people person, I have a low social battery (personal time is extremely important to me) and reading about him and seeing these cute art pieces genuinely has helped me feel better and more sane lmao fictional characters are so much more helpful than I think a lot of people give them credit for (also shout out fanfic writers and artists, you’re so insanely loved and appreciated 🫶)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[rosenbergamot]

Everyone is Trans???? (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

Grian is the only trans person on Hermitcraft.

He knows this as a complete and utter fact. He’s not lying about this, no matter how much he wishes he was-- and goodness, does he wish he was every damn day of his life. It’s lonely to be the only trans person on a server full of your dearest companions. 

It’s not even a horrible thing. He doesn’t trust them any less, doesn’t love them any less, but he sure is peeved about being surrounded by cis people all the time. When he wants to talk about his hips looking too wide today, or his top surgery scars not sitting right enough for him, or the way he’s so happy he can finally grow something of a beard, or how having long hair has gone from something dysphoric to something euphoric for him-- he just can’t! 

Because they won’t understand! And, sure, of course he can just tell them because they’re his friends and they care about him, but sometimes he doesn’t want to just be cared about. Sometimes he wants to be understood. Sometimes he doesn’t want to have to explain everything, going through the same tiring motions he’s gone over time and time again in his life. 

Can a guy not just want another trans person to complain to? Is it really so hard for that to be his reality? Is it really so much to ask?

He’s having a particularly annoying day today. His stupid jeans aren’t fitting correctly on his hips. Usually he’s not too angry about it. On days where he feels more feminine he likes that he has these hips, revels in the way clothes hug his curves, but right now he’s feeling just about as Man as one possibly could, and it’s making him want to rip apart his clothes because none of them fit right. 

He ends up in a pair of sweatpants that hide enough of himself so that he’s able to leave his base. The day outside is warmer than expected, beautiful and sunny, and he immediately regrets the large sweater and comfy sweatpants he had chosen to wear. The light glints off of the ocean, teasing him with its deep secrets that he will never be able to decipher. 

In the distance he can see the newest addition to Scar’s train-- the big snail that those pesky snails had built. It worries him that they can build things all of a sudden. Still, it’s not like he can do anything about it. You just have to accept that they’re going to do whatever they please and then they’ll tone it down. It seems they like to cause mayhem. He can’t really knock them for that. 

He unhooks Pluto from the post. He runs his hands through his mane, reveling in the coarse feeling. It takes his mind away from his body for a few seconds, lets him be completely and utterly still in a way that he often isn’t. Being so detail oriented and such a perfectionist can be hard on the psyche sometimes, especially when that energy is directed towards your body. 

You might as well roll his boulder and call him Sisyphus because he’s… uh…

He’s having a rough go at it. 

Pluto whinnies as he stops petting him, nudges his hand with his snout. It’s time to go check the shopping district. Maybe do permit things. Ugh. 

The ride is uneventful. He smashes the glass to the permit office with his pickaxe, picks it back up and replaces it so that nobody gets any funny ideas. Don’t want them bothering him or anything of the sorts when he’s here. Having to work is his worst nightmare.

The office is as quiet as it is dark. He sighs so loud it fills up the space. He freshens up the light, makes sure that the sign telling people the door is out of order is in place, and then moves behind the filing cabinets, taking a look at his uniform that sits there.

Usually he likes how it fits. It’s tight, accentuating his flat chest and his curves. He likes it that way. Not today though. 

Today he’ll forgo the outfit. It’s not like anyone is going to come in, anyways.

--

Twenty minutes later and he was very wrong. Someone is digging underneath the building, muttering to themselves, and Grian guesses who it is before he even pops his head in. 

Of course Scar of all people needs help with permits today. He’s always looking for any chance he gets to bother Grian into doing work. He puts down his book, eyes him with an anger that he knows feels inappropriate even for him. Sue him, he’s having a bad day.

“Grian!” Scar’s voice is louder than he remembered. He’s got specks of dirt on his face. 

He shoves his shovel into the dirt, leans on it, falls over a little bit as it teeters, tries to right himself, ends up just knocking the shovel over instead, stands up straight, puts his hands behind his back. Stops. Coughs. Smiles. Continues yapping.

“It’s so lovely to see you here! It’s such a coinkidink that fate would put the both of us here! In the permit office! At the same time! Almost as if we’re destined to meet here and do paperwork together and-- and help me with my permit so that I can actually do something as a zoo keeper…” His voice is quieter at the end. Grian pretends not to hear it. 

“Scar.” He greets flatly. “What do you want?” 

Disregarding his ire, Scar saunters up to him. “Oh, well, nothing too bad, G, nothing at all! I wouldn’t dream of making you work or anything-- um…” He stops suddenly. He opens his mouth. He closes it, looking him up and down. If a visual question mark could appear over a person’s head, it absolutely would in this moment. “You’re not dressed up in your-- your little… office uniform! Your little suit! Where’s your clip-on tie, Grian?”

Ugh. “Office Grian is out of the building today.”

That does not do anything to quell Scar’s confusion. His big ol’ eyes look wet and pathetic as he stares at him. “B-B-B-B-But… how am I supposed to get help with my form if office Grian isn’t here?”

“You’re just gonna have to deal with good ol’ regular Grian today.” 

He loves Scar beyond words-- really, it drains him how much he loves this man-- but today is not the day for him. He can feel his energy departing out of his body already. He was going to try and stick it out for a while today. It looks like plans are changing swiftly.

“Is regular Grian as know-- legible. Knoll… knowledge…” He hums, goes down a different path. “Do you know how to do the form? Because I need some serious help, G.” 

He drags a hand down his face. It’s sweaty. “Office Grian doesn’t even know how to do the form, Scar.” 

“What?!” This is genuine surprise from him. “So you’re tellin’ me that this form is all… all…”

“Bullshit?” He finishes the sentence for him. “Yeah. Pretty much.” His head is starting to hurt. “Ugh. Look, Scar, I’m not feeling good today, so maybe we can leave this for another day?”

The humour drops from Scar’s face. It leaves genuine concern. “Yeah-- I mean, no worries. Of course. Of course! Do you… uh, do you need-- need anything? Want to… talk about it?” 

It’s tentative. An olive branch. Scar is a very kind guy. A genuinely nice person. He thinks he’s perhaps caught him off guard with how open he’s being right now. It leaves him quiet and thoughtful. 

When the smile is off of Scar’s face one can really appreciate the way he looks. It’s not like his smile isn’t beautiful-- because it is, it’s moreso that this stillness is rare for him, moments of calm few and far between his cheesy one-liners and fake grins, and so when one is awarded this sight it feels disarming. 

He often forgets how beautiful Scar is. He thinks about how handsome he is on the daily, a fact which he divulges to nobody but himself, achingly aware of it everytime he sees him. Yet he misses how pretty he is. It makes his heart hurt.  

“Um.” He says as he snaps himself out of his… state. With nothing else to say, he just goes, “okay?” Y’know, like someone who wasn’t just staring deep into their friend’s eyes and remarking on how gorgeous they are. Like a smart and normal person. He grins to try and make it look extra convincing.

Scar’s face immediately screws up into worry. It was not convincing. 

“Ohhhh, god. Who are you and what have you done with Grian? I-I-I-I’m scared! You actually want to talk about it? What kind of sorcery is this?”

The bit of humour grounds him. He snorts. “Scar, don’t make me regret my choice.”

That shocks him into movement. His friend’s head whips around, eyes looking for something. He runs around the office wildly, tripping over his untied shoelaces, ignoring his squawk of “tie your shoes Scar!”, and comes back with two chairs. He sets them down in front of the desk, patting the other one. When Grian doesn’t move he pats it again, more insistent. Finally he acquiesces, leaving the comfort of the desk and sitting across from Scar. 

“So!” His voice is far too cheery. His smile is straining at the edges. He’s out of his element right now, Grian realizes. And it’s because he always has to fight to get these talks out of Grian. It’s like pulling tooth and nail sometimes. And here he is, just ready to… to bare it all. 

Oh, god. He’s going to talk to him. About his problems. And his body. 

He suddenly feels sick.

“I think I may throw up.” 

Scar’s smile falls. “What?” 

He splays his upper body across the desk. His stomach is doing flips. “This. This is going to kill me, Scar. Do you understand?” 

“N-No?” 

“I am going to die a painful death, Scar, and it’s all because you made me talk about my… my feelings!” He makes a throwing up sound. 

“Now you-- you just wait a second, mister!” Scar leans forward so that he can poke him in the shoulder. “I didn’t make you do anything-- in fact you agreed to it! So let me hear it, Gri, or I-I swear I’m gonna… I’m gonna! I’m gonna send those stupid snails back over to you and make them eat your mending book right in front of your eyes!”

He gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

An mhm. A nod. “Ohhh, I would. Don’t you test me now!” 

He’s seen enough fish in the short span they’ve been in this season to know that, in his shock, his mouth is opening and closing like one. It takes all his resolve to not run out of the building and leave this stupid place behind. Sure, Scar may try and follow him, but he’s fast-- surely he can outrun him! It… it wouldn’t be too hard! He can do it!

The energy leaves him in one fell swoop as the silence drags on and Scar only seems to get more worried about him. Finally, he looks away.

“I feel alone…” he bites out. It’s like chewing glass. 

“Oh?” Scar is interested. That’s him telling him to continue. 

The proverbial glass on his tongue and teeth cut up his mouth and bleed the truth out of him. “I have… a particular problem that nobody else on the server can relate to.”

“Is it an avian thing?” He scratches his head. “Y’know, I know that Pearl isn’t exactly an avian herself, but she may be able to help you out. Or-- hey! Jimmy is an avian! We can message him?” 

He’s earnest. So earnest. He grits his teeth. “It’s not. An avian thing.” 

That makes Scar stop. “Is it… is it a them thing?”

Them. Neither of them need to say their names to know. 

“God-- no. No. Thank goodness.” In his stress, he begins to pull at his hair, his wings ruffling. “I just. God. Scar, I can’t believe you don’t know. We’ve spent…” lives together. Lived and died together. Stuck by each other’s sides when no one else would. Hurt each other but mostly just loved each other. “We’ve spent time together.” 

“We sure have! I-- I, uh… I don’t know what you’re talking about, though.” 

“Have you ever looked at me when I’m shirtless?” He just decides to bite the bullet. 

Scar’s jaw drops. His face begins to turn a shade of red he didn’t think was possible. He looks away, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “No, no-- no! No way. Noooo way. Never, G-- never! I would. Never.” 

“Why are you so--? Look, nevermind! Scar, I-I’m different from everyone else and it’s not because of them and it’s not because I’m an avian.”

“You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” He’s still not looking at him. Did that really embarrass him so much? That… that means many things that he just does not have the brain to dissect right now. 

“I’m not cis.” Is all he can really say. 

It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop. 

“You’re…” Scar’s finger wobbles as he points at him. His jaw is back to being on the fucking floor. 

For a second, Grian thinks he’s just fucked up the entire thing they have going on. Scar is going to leave him. He’s going to hate him and he’s going to tell everyone and it’s going to ruin his life. Poppies and lilacs will mean nothing to them anymore. 

But then Scar starts to smile. He wiggles his fingers, bouncing in his seat. “Ooooh, Grian! Grian, I had no idea! What the heck?” His laugh is a little intense considering the information just given. Dread leaks out of his body and is replaced by confusion. Scar is still laughing. “What the heck?! You mean to tell me we could have been bondin’ even more? How-- how the heck did I not notice that?”

“What…?” His voice cracks. 

Firmly, Scar points at him. “Hold on, how the heck did you not notice this?!” He points to his own chest.

“Scar, what on Earth are you talking about?” 

With little care for much of… anything, really, Scar rips his own shirt open, the buttons flying off and skittering across the floor. He points aggressively at two thick scars underneath his pecs. They pucker at the end, pulling skin taut against his ribs. He’d recognize something like that anywhere. 

It’s Grian’s turn for his jaw to drop. “W-What? You… wait-- what? You… I-- Scar, put your shirt back on!” 

“The shirt is gone, Grian,” he says with faux seriousness. “You’re just gonna have to deal with this right now.”

He’s trying very hard not to stare at Scar’s chest. He is fighting a losing battle. 

“Nevermind that, though-- how the heck did you not notice these scars? They’re gigantic, Grian! Biggest ones I’ve got on my-- my whole… whole area!” He gestures vaguely to his body.

“Your torso?” He sighs. “I don’t know, Scar, I guess I don’t make it a habit to look at your pecs?”

That answer seems to displease him greatly. “Well, I can’t see why not, my pecs are amayzin’.” 

You know what… “Sure, Scar. Sure they are.” 

He beams at him. “You’re welcome to stare at them anytime, Grian!”

His ears are getting warm. Stupid Scar. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone on here.”

To Scar this seems like a joke. He laughs. When Grian doesn’t laugh too, he stops. Stares at him. Squints at him. “You-- you weren’t ever alone, Grian.”

“I didn’t know that you were also trans!” He argues, feeling his back start to rise. 

“No-- no, I mean… jeez, Grian, I don’t think I know a single cis person on this server. In fact, MIster, I thought you were the only one we had-- until now, of course!” 

“What.” 

“Actually I think Skizzy Wizzy is cis! Or-- or maybe he’s not…” He furrows his brows. “Ah, whatever, point is: you’re surrounded by trans people whether you like it or not, mister!”

“Why would I dislike it?” It still doesn’t feel real to him. If he weren’t sitting down he would have to sit down again. As it stands (or sits, he supposes) he just sinks lower into his chair. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been-- I’ve been stewing for years! Wait-- Mumbo?!”

“Yep!” He pops the ‘p’, grinning wildly. It makes Grian start to laugh. That makes Scar start to laugh. In a very sweet moment that turns very sobering very quickly, Scar takes his hand, squeezes it as if he’s squeezing one of those grip testing machines-- ow! “Now you don’t have to hide it, G. Isn’t that amayzin’?” 

The contact makes his head start to spin. “You’re crushing my hand, Scar.”

“Whoops!” He lets go, blushing. “Sorry, sometimes I don’t even know my own strength!” 

“Yeah, yeah… anyways, what was that about you definitely not staring at my chest earlier?”

Scar runs out of the building so fast you would swear he had somewhere to be. 

Which is good enough for Grian, because that means he doesn���t have to put an ounce of work in today! He puts down his ‘Gone Fishin’ sign, repairs the hole left by Scar, and then leaves the building. He feels lighter than he’s ever felt before.

So it turns out he was wrong. He’s never been so glad to be so wrong. 

(read it on ao3 here! <3)

[pigeon-butch]

I certainly have my own concerns about the treatment of moo deng but um. well i think some of you may just be racist

[thebiggestmenace]

how ironic is it that Jody basically adopts Sam and Dean and then later adopts Alex and Claire. oh, the similarities between them all

you have Alex, who was a monster when we met her and Sam, who had demon blood in him. Alex was given a group of friends - a boyfriend - by someone who was wronged by her and later tried to kill her. and Sam, who was given a group of friends - a girlfriend - by someone who wanted to keep tabs on him to turn him into something worse. and both of them found this out in front of their loved ones. oh, and they both have something from their past, always coming and biting them in the ass again. oh, they both have school on Monday, too, can't forget that :)

you have Claire, who has so many daddy issues they can rival Dean's. both of their backgrounds are so, so similar, they really are just the same person in different fonts. what, Mary dies so John goes on this huge hunt and changes who he is to find her killer, and Jimmy gets possessed by an angel, leading Amelia to go on this huge hunt to find him and changing who she is as a person? and both John and Amelia die to protect their kid?

idk it's just a little ironic that Jody has these two boys who aren't always in her life, but she has these two girls who are so very similar to them that she does have every day of her life

also, Claire is gay??? if their backstories are so similar, should Dean not also b-(indistinct screaming, cars honking)

[and-so-he-rambled]

“You’re too good for me.”

Shane didn’t look at the farmer as they sat on the doc. There was only sparkling water this time and the sight was far more beautiful than he remembered.

“I’ve never been a good person, kid. I’m the son of an asshole and I spent most of my life as a drunk, and I let down my best friends when they trusted me with something precious. You’re young still, why settle for an older loser?” The farmer was a twenty something who had a good head on their shoulders (and a bad taste in hats), they could do better than a man who was fast approaching thirty two.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, turning to them finally. The kid scowled at him, tilting up the brim of a cowboy hat.

‘You are hard on yourself.’ They signed, and the books he’d been reading were paying off because he actually understood it. ‘From what you have told me, you saved Jas. She’s happy, you did good. You are a good man.’

“Maybe you’re right, I am hard on myself sometimes.” His inner voice that sounded suspiciously like his dad was getting easier to ignore now.

‘I’m always right.’ The farmer signed as they stuck their tongue out.

Silence passed between them for a long moment before Shane got the courage to break it.

“I think I could grow to love you.” He was pretty sure he already was. The farmer didn’t look offended, posture opens sun relaxed as they tilted their head at him.

“I think I’m realizing I used to be in love with someone else, two people actually. I’m still processing that.” His therapist had helped him realize a lot of things about himself.

The farmer smiled at him, a twinkle in their eye.

‘I don’t mind waiting. Take as long as you need.’

Shane huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Like I said, too damn good for me.”

[sysig]

Pepper scared the shit out of me by hiding in his molt-hammock for A Literal Week and I thought for sure he’d moltstalled but no he was just in there getting swole

[truly-sincerely]

I made Elli set up the TV last night finally (it's been 3 months) so she could play Hollow Knight while I tell her which direction to go (I still have the map more-or-less memorized from the first time she played years ago). Also, it's important that I get to yell big dick energy whenever she finds a big dick energy statue.

I'm feeling a lot better today.

[scoriarose]

Hi!! I’ve never had a pet snake so this might be a dumb question but is it harder for snakes to see when they’re in blue?

It's not dumb, snake eyesight is different from our own so we can't assume they see exactly how or what we do. For the longest time people believed they couldn't see red, and used red lights to light their enclosures at night- that's bad for them. Please do not light your snake like a rotisserie chicken, they can see it.  Red light can be detrimental to reptiles because it can make it difficult for them to perceive depth, which can lead to mental distress. Red light bulbs can mess with your pet's ability to tell if it is day or night, since a light is always on, and that can cause stress and health and long term sight issues too.

But back to your original question, yes, snakes have difficulty seeing when they are in blue. Many will stay buried and hidden, not even eating until they've completely shed. That is the norm, and if a snake wants to be left alone, they should be. Sakura will hide most of the time, but I'll sometimes see the tip of her nose near a burrow hole, and I'll dangle something tasty in front of it and she'll eat it- but I won't dig her up if she's having alone time. Scoria will hide unless I'm around- they both know my voice and scent, and Scoria has complete trust in me so much that even when blind she knows I'll keep her safe.

She allowed me to take her out and feed her today, and then asked for pets. This behavior is unique to her, and if she were not specifically asking to be pet I would not do it after feeding (any other snake might throw up). I'd stop petting her and she'd ask again and again like, "Nope! Need more, come back and pet me." I really don't mind, she's found a way to tell me she enjoys being pet, and that's amazing- and also makes me happy. After many many pets (I guess we had a few days to make up for, I've been leaving her alone for the most part, only saw she was in blue, and then it was food day and saw her looking at me from her mossy hide) she buried herself underground in her bioactive area.

Perhaps some day Sakura will trust me to touch her while she's in blue too- but if not that's just fine. Sometimes we all need a few days to ourselves.

Oh, and don't feel bad asking snake blogs questions. It makes us happy when we get nonbot or spam asks! I imagine most of us love sharing about our snakes! And if sharing what I've learned helps lead a snake and their caretaker to a better life or bond then they would have had before, that's such a win for everyone!

[thevalleyoftriumph]

had a roach attempt an escape today ☝

[aintashes]

don't mind me i'm just weeping and wailing about how one of da.ryl's biggest motifs as a character is his relationship with finding people ??

no matter how distant he becomes, no matter how much people hurt him or how much pain comes with it, everyone knows. da.ryl di.xon finds people.

[woerm-town]

i feel like a huge part of why i haven't started writing in english as a hobby is because i'm still used to using word endings to connect sentences and make them flow better (which is what i did with writing in ukrainian). also words in ukrainian just sound nicer and have a larger variety to me; i don't mean to insult english btw. i'm just still used to ukrainian because it's my native language and such.

[acornered]

✋hater here! you're probably a nice person but I find it reaaaally annoying when people who have only known each other for some weeks act like they're the love of each others lives. I hope when you guys meet irl it turns out she can't stand ur stinky feet or something and you have to break up. only saying it bc you wanted anonymous opinoins of you tho, otherwise I would not be so mean. best of luck to you 2, I hope you will need it

This is hilarious because I used to be right there with you, side-eyeing every couple who got together too fast or fell in love without having shared a single kiss in person. It was a narrow-minded and cynical worldview born of years of stewing in my own heartbreak, and I'm glad I grew out of it. Romance and love are beautiful in all their forms, and life is too short not to put your whole heart into it. I'll spare you the details, but after what I've been through, I deserve a little softness. And it's frankly insulting for a complete stranger to suggest that the way I choose to represent my relationship online is indicative of some great naiveté of how the cold cruel world works. Yes, the practical, private conversations about what a relationship between us actually entails are absent on this public internet forum. That doesn't mean they aren't happening. I suggest you let go of some of that parasocial entitlement, and either be happy that we are happy or go somewhere else. Your opinion has "big divorced energy" as the kids say, and I hope you can heal to the point where you don't feel the need to be so bothered by other people's joy.

Also since you seem to be a bitter, loveless person I'll clue you in on something I've picked up over the years-- if you love someone enough, their stinky feet are a survivable quirk, not a nasty dealbreaker, hope this helps 👍

[wethecelestial]

they should invent a grief thats uncomplicated and purely cathartic to experience. has anyone thought of this before

[yappacadaver]

He’s just like me fr fr fr

[slippery-minghus]

oh no. i feel like if i do not consume an entire load of bread in the very near future i will simply cease to exist.