#some not sfw mentioned

[vole-mon-amour]

Contrary to popular belief, Astarion's sex scene is the least exciting thing about his romance. The only really cool cutscene is the graveyard scene & even that one is good for other reasons. Any kind of action and fun angles (the Leg™) literally get cut off.

Astarion's romance is about the journey, about him trusting the player more and more, about starting to feel safe. Not about sex. Dude had so much sex and rape in his life, he's numb to it to a degree. ('He loves it' and 'He's numb to it' are two statements that can and should co-exist.)

Honestly, Halsin's sex cutscene is way more fun than Astarion's. (That's why romancing Astarion with Halsin works perfectly: fun romance, fun sex, lots of understanding after a similar trauma.)

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

Today I heard a medical professional casually mention that I "of course shouldn't lose weight" (and I'm like. kinda fat by fatphobic standards although I would just call it "pretty average"). Thank you normal and sensible people reminding me not everything is the sort of hell that I see Americans talk about on tumblr.

[glambots]

So, in the "Vanny" ending of HW2, it's presumed that Vanny/Vanessa is able to overpower Glitchtrap and defeat him using the power of the AR system and MXES. What's interesting to me is that in that ending, when you hand over the Glitchtrap plush, it's specifically to Moon, who then brings it to Vanny before she crushes it.

You cannot tell me these two don't have Some sort of connection. (Obviously the Sun-Vanessa // Moon-Vanny comparison is obvious. People assuming one of them is evil while they're really being controlled and manipulated by outside forces--The Mimic.)

It could be suggested that Moon, like Vanny, was using his own position as "the bad one" to trick the Mimic into trusting it had full control over him. Which I would find to be a Very interesting idea.

Or maybe I'm just too damn invested in these jesters, who knows.

[asktauros]

Tucker stumbles a bit and looks around shocked, he was too lost in thought to process that the game had started again Olive: Silver!! That wasn't very nice!

Silver: I SAID "heads up"! What else do you want me to do!! Olive gives Silver a angry pout expression and the bull returns the expression mockingly Copper moves closer to the fence, trying to peer over at Tucker Copper: A-are... are you o-okay Tucker? Tucker: Huh y.. yeah! Yeah I'm... Tucker looks around for a moment, his eyes readjusting to the area around him Copper:... M-maybe you n-need a break? Silver: Aww come on! The game JUST restarted!

Tucker: N-No! I'm.. I'm fine! I just... was... thinking... i-is all.. Silver lets out a overdramatic gasp Silver: YOU CAN THINK?! Olive tosses some grass clippings over at Silver in response Tucker shakes his head from side to side, as if trying to shake the memory from his mind. He grabs the apricorn and faces the others again Tucker: I'm ready again! Olive and Silver cheer in response and return to their positions Copper gives Tucker a concerned expression, but soon returns to their spot for the game to continue

-- -- -- -- [ the talk of the Dogs earlier seemed to have stirred some bad memories for Tucker... But he's fine now... ]

[ The children are continuing their game ]

[little-pup-pip]

I saw u made a rlly cool McDonald’s one, could you make a Wendy’s one? 😮 If you accept, pls include the old fashioned logo, and no paci, ty! 🍟

Sure!!

[maw-and-pawp]

I've been having some hurt/comfort thoughts for awhile now. I might make some ocs around this. SFW, platonic (queerplatonic?), victim blaming, blood mention, background murder, found family, angst and fluff, vore-adjacent.

A pred and a prey duo, in an unlikely friendship. The pred is smaller than the prey, and is somehow vegetarian, but is definitely still intimidating to the prey due to their long claws and sharp teeth and stoic face. They're aware that they come off as threatening to others, and do their best to be kind with their actions, and hide their claws in thick gloves. Besides, if no one knows exactly what they're capable of with those claws, then the chances of being traced back to their "nightshift" are low.

The prey is a survivor of an almost fatal digestion, and they would've been just another victim if their pred hadn't saved them and brought them to a hospital in time. Since then, the prey has both developed trauma from the encounter, and a fragile bond with the pred. The pred insisted to give them their number, afterall. To call just in case they needed help again. For anything.

They started talking, and one thing led to another, and now it's a common occurrence to find the pred in the prey's apartment, taking care of stuff the prey can't always manage on their own now. Making sure the prey doesn't forget to care for themself, helping them run down to the laundromat, cooking for the both of them when the prey can't get out of bed. The pred has been helping them when their family is either too far away to, or blames the prey for what happened (you wouldn't have been taken if you hadn't been alone that night, we raised you better than to go to a mixed bar, let alone by yourself). Because of that, they keep the pred's night time habits to themself, and pointedly do not ask about the faint smell of blood whenever the pred shows up in the mornings. They don't want to know (and they'd like to keep plausible deniability, thank you).

The prey's been going to a support group for others like them. People who were lucky. Someone suggested something like exposure therapy once, mostly as a joke (which wasn't well received). Which...honestly at this point, the prey is tired of being a live wire after what happened, and they would do just about anything to just Go Back To Normal now. So the idea stuck. All they had to do is work up the courage. The prey doesn’t fully trust the pred afterall. They can't after what happened, and what they know the pred is doing to other preds. It's not illegal, technically, if sufficient evidence is found that it truly was in spontaneous aid to a caught prey. But it's not spontaneous. And the pred isn't going to court.

But the pred did say that it was ok to ask for help, even for the 'small' things. Not once have they made them feel like they were anything other than a person...a dear friend. Right. A dear friend. It would be fine.

So they ask to listen to the pred's stomach one weekend. The pred is flustered, confused, stoic face twisted up into a look something like they just got slapped in the face with a fish. Which would be funny, if the prey's heart wasn't trying to run out of their chest from nerves. They quietly explain what they mean to the pred, and the pred's eyes soften in understanding, face unscrunching into something once again unreadable.

The pred is...awkward. If the prey wasn't wholly consumed with their own worries, they would've picked up on the pred's rigid stance as fears of their own...They can't remember the last time someone had touched without the intention to hurt, or to take. And they need to be calm, or their big prey friend will be on edge and that would defeat the point. And their friend deserves to feel safe. Heaven help anyone who takes that away.

They set up in the living room. A cushiony chair is pulled up - a small couch really - and they somehow maneuver the pred to sit in it and the prey to kneel without saying a word. Lots of awkward shuffling, and a pillow for the prey's knees later, and the prey is nosing into the pred's stomach gently.

It's tense underneath their face, and the prey can hear the pred's breath hitch when they first make contact. Slowly, the pred relaxes into the touch, when pain doesn't come. The pred still grips the seat like a lifeline. (It's dizzying, to be so vulnerable, and to do it on purpose)

Then, the prey takes a breath, and presses their ear to the rumbling gut beneath them (it was just before lunch, like they planned). It whined and begged and burbled, warm and hungry. It sends a cold jolt of fear through them, making them freeze. It sounds so loud, so needy, just like it was when it was all around them that night when the acids started flowing in -

Tears are wiped away before they even know it exists. The pred strokes a finger gently through the fur between their eyes, hesitant but firm. They hush the prey, remind them that it's safe. They can stop if they need to. They don't even have to do this at all. They sound close to tears themself. The prey looks up into their face.

The gaze is piercing as it always is. But not unkind. They really would stop if the prey gave the word. They'd get up and get on with their days, and the prey wouldn't be just a meal stewing away inside their pred friend. The pred is more hungry for the tofu in the fridge than them, and their pred is a full head shorter anyways. Even if they wanted to, their pred couldn't take them past the point of no return.

(They wonder what it's like to be so short. Preds were usually a head taller than the prey or more. Perhaps their pred isn't a vegetarian by choice at all - they can't catch anyone being so small. They might also not be quick and strong and lethal by choice either...it must be easy to confuse the pred for a prey, or it might not functionally matter to some)

Armed with this knowledge, the prey nuzzles back in without a word. Their pred's breath hitches again, and comes out shaky when the prey snakes a hand upwards to run their thumb gently over their clothed lower belly. The same comforting little circles that their pred had been rubbing between their eyes a moment ago. They tense along with the motion, and the prey goes rigid again as the wet glorps roar again under their sensitive ears, announcing to the world just how much their pred's tummy was enjoying the attention (even if it would prefer attention from the inside at the moment). The prey counts the pred's climbing heartbeat, and stubbornly holds on even as they (both) shake in restrained fear. As the hour passes, they've never felt so safe and yet so afraid.

They decide that it's been a productive day, schedule another encounter next weekend, and break for lunch. No, the prey did not eat the last of the tofu, thank you very much. They much prefer the beansprouts anyways.

[wallterthetall]

wallter, do you age regress, and do u know anyone who does

I do not! I have looked into it, and I believe I would pass more as a caregiver! I do understand that some may be unaware what these words mean and may not wish to enter act with the community, so I will not explain any further. I do not know anyone who does regress, perhaps you are the first?

[funnibluecreturs]

Hello! :D

Friendly reminder that the Smurfs are canonically ticklish. :)

[story-book-sillies]

Having complicated emotions about my possible neurodivergency again

I just wish I could at least get tested to see if I have ADHD because I just want to know if my years of research and analyzing my brain means anything. Because I don’t want to self diagnose. But I just know something is up with my brain and I don’t know what it is

If I don’t get a diagnosis, then I’ll never know and I’ll never get the resources I need or the community of other neurodivergent individuals (in the case that I do have ADHD or something else) but if I do get a diagnosis and end up being neurodivergent, I’ll be shamed by my family and end up alone in that way. So I don’t win in either situations

And I know I can use resources if they help make my life easier, but I feel like such a fraud like, “Oh look at this loser, she’s using resources for people with ADHD and Autism even though she’s undiagnosed, I bet she’s just faking it.”

I don’t want to be unfair to those who do actually need help but I also feel like I need help with nobody to help me and I’m lost and scared and frustrated and confused and hghhghhjgfhhnn

[vrieseasees]

Behold! My chicken scratches!

There's more than I thought and these aren't all of them........ but yeah... the only times I use many layers in one file is *mostly* for sketches on my tablet....

[rosesradio]

.

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

If there's one trope that's guaranteed to get to me it's the suicidal immortal. Wanting so desperately to escape? To end their suffering? To end the harm they think their presence causes those around them? The unbearable guilt just for existing? And then knowing that it is impossible to leave? The way they're forced to give up hope of ever giving up their life, without actually being given any hope for positive change? The tortured, desperate frustration and helplessness putting everything they have into repeated attempts to destroy themself even though they know that it is futile? I'm so normal about this

[glambots]

So, I've been thinking of the "Sun and Freddy don't exactly Get Along" thing and:

Imagine that one day you get pulled off your "Daycare Duties" (or whatever you usually do that keeps you around the DCA for most of your shift, be it as a guard or assistant or anything similar), to help out the band for most of the day. Freddy walks you back at the end of your shift, thanking you for assisting them all with your hard work.

You, of course, are super flattered that The Frederick Fazbear is complimenting you and are going through the normal, "Wow! A minor celebrity is talking to me!" buzz that most of the workers tend to go through when first getting to know Freddy, and you're giggling and smiling and waving bye when he turns to leave when you notice Freddy stop and just get this Look on his face as his eyes slowly drift up behind you.

You slowly turn, as this huge shadow drapes over you from behind the Daycare's glass window pane, to see Sunny just Silently Looming.

Arms hanging by his sides, body hunched, head slightly lowered and tilted at an odd angle, and eye-lights burning with what you can swear is downright murderous intent.

It's. Terrifying.

[echos-gal]

Fireball: is in 2 episodes and says probably 4 lines, but has a cute haircut and can cook

Me: I need to write a multi-chapter Fireball x reader epic where the reader is a civilian medic for Wolffe's squad who finds Fireball burnt and barely alive under the rubble on Teth, helps him heal over the span of weeks/months, gets to know him, falls in love with him, and uses her position as an Empire medic to become an undercover agent for Rex's clone rebellion

[floofysmallbob]

when you’ve already read all the sfw fics tagged with your ship and have to resort to reading the smut:

[babymapleleaf]

The first time Stede's plushie has to get washed while he's baby (or like, he regresses while it's waiting to get washed or something) he literally cries so hard that he gets sick. Ed is super extra careful after that to make sure that the plushie doesn't get too dirty because he simply cannot stand to see Stede so upset 🥺