#ummmm it's not like you have a degree....

[sandplague]

did dankovsky write the steam page description

[finelinevogue]

bestie is there an update on LI harry?

ummmm hi?! here's a little something:

1 Year Later

"Babe!"

You hear Harry yell from inside your semi-detached house. You smile to yourself as you are reminded that you have the most perfect, quiet, life now with the guy you love.

It's been a whole year since the beginning of Love Island and you can't be happier that you made it out of there together - only after winning too.

The sponsorships that you both got, after coming out of the villa, have set you both up for life. Even after giving away a quarter of your money to family and another quarter to respective charities, you managed to buy a house in the country on the outskirts of London and Harry recently saved up to buy you your engagement ring.

"In the garden, lovie!" You call back.

His presence is felt before he actually speaks around you.

You are trying to catch a tan in the back garden, laying on a sun-bed. Today was supposed to get up to 25 degrees and the UV would be at 5, so it was a good opportunity to tan.

You squint one eye open to see him hover over you with an ice-cold beer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

"Have you got enough suncream on?" He asks, handing you the bottle of water and sitting down on the sun-bed next to you.

"Think so." You nod.

"Think so, is not good enough. Turn over." Harry instructs you, ever the bossy and concerned fiancé.

He takes a swig of his beer and puts it back down on the floor.

You hear the bottle of suncream open and you turn over and lay on your front.

"Fuck!" You squeal as the cold of the suncream meets your hot back. "Could've warned me."

Harry just chuckles and continues rubbing the suncream into your back. It was like getting a free massage. He really lathers the suncream on, so your black glistens with the stickiness of the cream, but only because he cares about you.

Next his hands land on your bum - his favourite part of your body.

He can't even lie when someone asks him what his favourite part of your body is and say your eyes. It is always going to be your ass. He claims it's too peachy for your own good.

"You having fun back there, H?" You tease, noting how long he is spending on applying suncream to your ass.

"Time of my life."

"You're going to rub all the suncream off if you keep massaging it."

"Well, then I'll just have to reapply." He hits your bum lightly to signal that he has finished. For now.

Your head it resting on one side and you watch Harry sit a bit further up on the chair so he is in line with your face. You have a hard time focusing on anything when his chest is right in your line of vision.

"What did you need me for?" You ask.

"Was gonna ask whether you wanted me to put the BBQ on and we can have burgers off the grill for dinner?" He takes another sip of his beer and it shouldn't be as hot as he makes it look.

"Sounds nice."

"Bacon too?"

"And cheese, onions and burger sauce."

"And a salad, because God knows you need to eat more greens." Harry always teases you about your lack of eating vegetables, just because you don't enjoy eating broccoli.

"Oh piss off." You laugh.

"Y'know, if I do this BBQ I'm going to need help." He leans over a bit, so he blocks the sun from your face and he's only a few centimetres in front of you. He smells like a mixture of beer, suncream and aftershave.

"And how am I going to help? I burnt our pasta last week."

"By giving me a kiss." He smirks.

"Oh really?" You tease, leaning your head up a little to close the distance between you.

"Yeah. It's been proven the best help for me."

"Hmm. Sounds a little too convenient for you."

"I don't really care."

Harry doesn't let you bicker back, because he's cupped the back of your neck and pulled you towards his lips. The kiss is messy and ungraceful, considering the positions your both sat in, but you make it work. Your lips work over Harry's deliciously and he doesn't break away until he's satisfied. Your lips both tinge a little afterwards and not because of the sun.

"Will never get over the way you make me feel." Harry says.

"Thanks for finding me." You kiss him again, but just a little one this time.

"And thanks for loving me."

You smile at him as you watch the love transfer between him and yourself. The feelings will always be magical between you both.

"Now go make me my burger." You flop back down on the sun-bed.

Harry slaps you on your ass for the attitude, but you were expecting it so it only makes you laugh.

"Bossiest fiancé in the world." He mumbles as he leaves, making you fall in love with him a little more.

[perfinn]

let neptune strike ye dead

merman!din djarin x lighthouse keeper!reader - chapter two

wc: 4.4k

summary: you confront the inevitability of your insanity, and finally meet the elusive entity that's been leaving you gifts

cw: nsfw, female reader, DUBCON based purely on lack of communication, paranoia, isolation, oral (f receiving), once again lighthouse keeping inaccuracies, biting, ummmm... monsterfucking?

chapter one, read on ao3, divider by cafekitsune

You hadn't thought too much about the mythosaur since Captain Fett had told you about it. It had been a short conversation, really, something easy to forget. But you remembered it, always clinging to his stories to think back on later when you truly have nothing to do. 

“That? That’s pounamu,” he’d said initially, gently picking it up to show it to you. “Greenstone, if you like. It was my father’s.”

“Ah,” you’d responded, not disinterested in the material but more focused on the carving itself. “What's the symbol?”

Captain Fett had given you a vague huff of amusement. He handed it to you, and you’d gently trailed the calloused pad of your thumb over the surface. “It’s a mythosaur.”

“A mythosaur? That's creative.”

“A great sea beast,” he’d continued on. “Said to be extinct. But the story goes that when they were running amok, it was merfolk that tamed them, or culled them to extinction. Spared both the land and the ocean of their dominion either way. The skulls are supposed to be their symbol now.”

“Merfolk?” You’d echoed with a chuckle, handing the mythosaur back to him. “So it’s not real then?”

“Well, now, I wouldn’t rule it out completely. Can’t say I’ve ever seen a mythosaur myself, but then they’re meant to be extinct.”

“What then? You’ve seen a mermaid, captain?”

He had smiled, that mirthful chuckle that had been plaguing your late night fantasies rumbling in his chest. “Never can be quite sure what it is you’ve seen out there. Sailors are a mad lot.”

You remember blithely telling him that you must be a sailor too, then. 

You stare intently at the cowrie shell cradled in your hands, trying to force yourself out of what surely must be some sort of hallucination. But you can feel it, you can trail your fingers over the carving and feel every little notch that seems to have been etched with such care. 

(You think tactile hallucinations are a thing, aren’t they? But you’re not certain they're meant to manifest like this.)

There’s obviously the potential that it belonged to another sailor, that it had dropped off their ship and washed up onto your dock in the chaos of the storm. That’s perfectly reasonable. Maybe it’s the answer you would settle for if not for the seaglass and the fish and that tail you’d seen in the water.

With all that in mind, and the echo of Fett’s words in your head, you know there’s only one answer. 

You don’t know if you can let yourself accept that, though. It would be an irreversible acceptance of your complete insanity. There’d be no calling your mother to trick your brain into believing you have company. No satiating the lonely ache with Captain Fett’s occasional company. You’d be well and truly cracked.

But even so, even if you accept that there may be some degree of merperson out there, that doesn’t explain the offerings. You’re not exactly an expert on the extensive lore regarding merfolk, but from what you can tell they’re elusive and solitary creatures. It doesn't seem exactly in their nature to leave gifts to a human. You briefly consider the option of some sort of siren– but then why not just sing to you, drag you to your watery death and be done with it? 

No, it feels like… you’re being wooed. 

This doesn't feel at all like a creature baiting you into a horrible death so they can store you away in their lair and eat you. It feels borderline romantic. Pretty gifts to decorate your home, fish to feed you. 

(The cowrie shell feels a bit like a proposal, doesn't it? Or is that your fractured mind, making sense of the senseless?)

The morning after the storm, the weather isn't much improved. Though the wind has died down some, it still rains lightly and the sky remains overcast. It’ll be clear enough for the fishing boats to go back out, so it's clear enough for you to get to work. No doubt the storm has wreaked some havoc, and you’ll need to tidy up and ensure everything is still in working order. 

So you tuck the shell into the pocket of your raincoat, pull on the matching hat that always makes you feel a bit like a toddler, and head out into the pattering rain. 

You wander through the mud and down the hill that the wretched tower sits on, watching as your boots get covered in the muck. Sometimes there are puddles, and you indulge yourself by jumping in them. But today it's all just sludge, begging for you to step wrong and slip right onto your backside. 

You make your way along as carefully as you can bear, feet carrying you to one of the cliffs at the edge of the island. One of the shorter ones, short enough that you could probably jump and the only risk would be rolling your ankle if your foot landed wrong between the rocks. It's the same cliff the seaglass had been on. 

You gaze out at the watery horizon, hoping to catch sight of any passing ships. A fishing boat, maybe. None would be so close as to be able to see the people aboard, but the implication of their presence would be enough.

At this point, just the notion of other people existing would ease your mind. 

You don't find anything but the empty horizon and the somewhat tumultuous waves and you sigh, lowering your gaze to the bank of water beaten rocks below you.

Sometimes there are seals there. You like to throw fish to them, enticing them to come back and entertain you with their ridiculous little behaviours. You’d like to start naming them, and you would if you could get close enough to tell them apart. 

You think that's something that people on the mainland would call crazy in a quirky way. In an ‘I’m so crazy, I talk to my cats!’ way, a way that indicates they have no understanding of what it actually is to descend into complete and utter madness. 

You can be assured that you know exactly what an actual descent into madness is, because there's no seals on the rocks today. 

There's a merman.

You’d be inclined to think he hasn’t noticed you, or else he’d have disappeared back into the waves to avoid detection, if he weren’t looking right at you. He’s staring, eyes intent and boring right into yours. 

He’s gorgeous, mind you. His skin is tan and his wet brown hair is slicked back by the rain – and presumably the ocean. Though you hadn't been able to make out a face from high up in the lighthouse, he’s almost certainly the head and shoulders you’d seen last night in the water. His tail, huge and strong, lays against the rocks, and as your gaze trails down to his tailfin, you recognise it as the very same one you had thought you’d hallucinated off the dock. His body of his tail is massive, about three times the length of his upper half. The whole thing might even be longer than you. It’s a dark, teal colour– it’s really no wonder you were hardly able to spot it in the waves. His top half looks almost entirely human, the only deviation being the gills that cut along his ribcage.

Slowly, on the edge of the cliff, you crouch, closing the distance between you both by a few meagre feet. It feels too close, and at the same time it feels like miles apart. You move slowly, wary of spooking him and scaring him away. Even as you inch into a crouch, he shifts, looking as though he’s about to make a break for the waves. 

(You’re not certain why he’s so shy if he’s the one that’s been offering you all these gifts for so long. Though, you suppose you’re much the same when it comes to flirting. And generally, you don’t flirt so much with species that have a mythology of hunting and killing your own either.)

You still when you’ve fully crouched above him. He’s close enough to touch now, if both of you were to reach out. You’d like to. To touch him, to know that he’s real. 

(Tactile hallucinations, you remind yourself. It would feel just as real as any visual and auditory hallucination might.)

The two of you stare at one another in silence for a while longer, and you assume that he’s trying to take in the sight of you up close as much as you are to him. You feel a bit jealous, knowing that he must have been watching you so long, getting to enjoy the sight of you when you didn’t even know he was there.

If this had happened maybe six months ago, you’d still have been sane enough to be frightened by this prospect of a silent watcher, leaving you dead fish and most certainly hearing you pleasure yourself loudly at night. Now, the horror you should probably feel doesn’t even occur to you.

“You’re the one who’s been leaving me gifts,” you say, quiet as you can manage in the pattering rain, wanting to be heard but not wanting to startle him. “Right?”

The merman gazes up at you, and there’s only a slight incline of his head in response. You’re not sure how to take it, but it’s not really a question you needed much answer to. More of a conversation starter than anything. Otherwise, he doesn't reply. You wonder if he even speaks your language, if he’s even capable.

You reach into your pocket, movements slow and cautious. You’re petrified of startling him as you take the cowrie shell from your pocket, turning it over in your hands before holding it out to him. He seems to perk up at the sight of it, shifting slightly so he’s propping himself up on his arms. You look down at the shell again, running your thumb over the mythosaur, before stretching your arm out, offering it to him.

His expression shifts minutely, into a frown. His dark eyebrows pull together, and he reaches up a hand. You think he’s going to take it back from you, but when his webbed fingers touch yours – he’s so warm, part of you expected him to be cold blooded – he closes your fingers back around the shell. You meet his eyes, and his intent gaze has never left you. His hand lingers on yours, and for a moment his thumb rubs over the side of your hand. His gaze finally drops, taking in the size of your hand cradled in his. His fingers are tipped off with dark talons that brush over the calloused skin of your hands.

He feels so real. Something so real, so warm and wet and rough and perfect, your brain couldn't make that up. He’s here, in front of you, touching you. It has to be real. 

Then, he murmurs something so quietly that you almost don’t catch it over the soft patter of the rain.

 “Mesh’la.”

Your eyes dart to his mouth, you catch a glint of sharp teeth behind soft lips before they pull into a smile. And his smile… God, unsurprisingly it’s made him even more gorgeous. It may be the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. 

Mesh’la. It’s certainly not any language you know, but it’s a sound you could make. So he is capable of speaking human tongues, maybe he just doesn’t know any of yours. You think briefly that mesh’la might be his name, but the way he said it doesn’t seem that way. It seemed like he was saying it to you, about you. On his tongue, it must mean something. 

“Mesh’la?” you say back to him, unsure of how to convey your confusion without overwhelming him with words he doesn’t know. 

He only offers you a hum in response, still trailing his fingers over your skin, as though he fears the thought of pulling away. 

“What’s your name?” You ask him softly, clearly as you can manage. You place a hand to your chest and slowly recite your own name, hoping he’ll understand. 

(You think, if it turns out he’s perfectly able to understand you, you probably look like a complete idiot. But then, with how long you’re certain he’s been watching you, he’s likely watched you make a fool of yourself several dozen times.)

He seems to catch the hint you’re throwing and after a moment’s hesitation, he speaks again, “Din.”

You breathe the name in a murmured echo, adoring the taste of it on your tongue. You dart your tongue out to wet your lips as though you might catch a lingering taste of the syllable. Part of you had expected something difficult to pronounce, using sounds you’re not even able to make, but Din is simple. It’s beautiful.

You think you hear a soft rumble from his chest, but it’s hard to tell over the rain. He lowers his hand, leaving droplets of water on your skin. Instinctively, you go to follow him, tilting forward a bit and losing your balance. You yelp, and wave your arms around as you desperately try to avoid toppling onto the rocks below. 

You manage to regain your balance and fall onto your backside, but when you look back down Din is backing away, slithering across the rocks and toward the water. You startled him, just as you had so desperately hoped you wouldn't. Foiled by your own centre of balance. You scramble to get back on your feet as he pulls himself away, eyes wide. 

“Wait!”

He glances back at you just once before he disappears into the foamy waves, leaving you alone on the edge of the cliff. Leaving you reeling, and suddenly desperate for his return. Din, the merman.

Part of you is imagining telling Captain Fett what you’ve seen, but a bigger part of you knows that you can never tell a soul, lest they think you a madwoman. 

(Which you most certainly are, but they don't need to think it.)

You stand back up as the waves crash over the rocks, erasing all traces of Din except for the droplets on your hand and the memory of him that you’re sure is reflected in your eyes. You’d love to dwell on it, to wish him back and stare out at the waves forever, but there’s still work to be done. So you have to go about your day as though you haven't just met a merman. 

Din makes no more appearances for a week. He leaves you no gifts, and drops no hints that he’s there at all. It’s devastatingly lonely, even with a phone call to your mother. It only lasts fifteen minutes this time, as you have nothing to update her on and the drama with your aunt has simmered to a cool cold shoulder stage.

(Of course, you could update your mother on the merman, but you would like for her to think you’re only slightly unhinged at most.)

You’ve completely integrated Din into your fantasies, at least, and that's added an impeccable spice to your nights. There was even one night, when you were fighting particularly hard to reach a new record for amount of orgasms, when you included both Din and Captain Fett. You went blind that night with how hard you came. 

Funnily enough, it's the next day when Din finally makes another appearance. You’ve got a spool of rope heaved over your shoulder and you’re trudging up to the shed when you spot his head at the end of the dock. It takes all the dignity and sense you have not to drop the rope and sprint toward him like he’s your long lost lover. No, this time you won't startle him. So instead, you wave to him and calmly make your way down the old dock. 

He seems to hesitate before he waves back, as though he’s unfamiliar with the gesture. You surmise that he’s seen it before and guessed that it's a human greeting, but he’s simply never had the need or opportunity to use it. 

“Din,” you greet as you make it to the end of the dock. Today’s a clear day, the clouds are sparse and the sun is blessing the both of you with its warm shine even in the frigid salty air. 

He murmurs your name, webbed hand resting on the dock. He looks infinitely more stunning in the clear sunlight, his skin somehow sunkissed, despite his dwelling somewhere with so little sunshine. You crouch slowly and set down the rope, smiling at him. 

“You disappeared,” you say, thankful when your sudden proximity doesn't make him retreat. “I’m sorry I scared you last week. I guess I got excited, and… you can't understand me, can you?”

Din smiles at you again, giving you a full view of his sharp and pointed teeth. They’re almost sharklike. He reaches up, taking your hand carefully, like he’s nervous. 

You think he might be– you think that might be the explanation for his strange behaviour. Maybe it isn't just the nature of merfolk, maybe Din is just shy. The thought makes you smile, the idea that this gorgeous, dangerous creature could be shy or nervous. It's more than a bit endearing.

Then he speaks again, and even the rough timbre of his voice can’t ease the shock at the word coming from his soft lips, “Fuck.”

Your brows knit together as you tilt your ear toward him, certain you’ve misheard. “Sorry?”

He says it again, seeming insistent. He gently grabs your ankle, guiding you to sit down on the dock. You’re still reeling from his sudden cursing, too shocked to stop him as he moves you so your legs are dangling off the edge of the dock. 

“Where did you learn that?”

(He probably learned it from you, shouting it late at night while you touch yourself, but you don't really have the brain function to piece that together while you're still reeling from the fact he's learned it at all.)

He says it again, and as he begins to tug your shoes off you begin to think he may know exactly what it means. He sets your boots down on the dock and looks intently at you, resting his hands on your clothed thighs. For a creature you’ve decided is shy, he’s being awfully bold. You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, willing him to suddenly know your language so he can confirm your suspicions. 

“Yes?” He prompts, and it's well enough. 

And really, you should probably say no. You don't know him. You don't know where he’s been. You don't know his actual intentions. He could be asking permission to drag you under and eat you. But it's obvious what he’s asking, right?

And god you want it, you want it bad. It's been so long since anyone else touched you, and at this point you’d take it even if it meant drowning. Especially coming from such a gorgeous creature. There are worse ways to go. 

So you nod, hurriedly undoing the clasps on your overalls and shifting away from him so you can take them off, leaving you only in your t-shirt and panties. They’re not exactly sexy, but judging by the lust darkening Din’s eyes, your fishy partner doesn't much mind. 

He trails his wet hands over the expanse of your thighs, taking in every inch of them. It takes you a moment to realise that he's probably never been this close to any legs before. He’s admiring them and amazed by them, and you shiver when he drags his tongue over the skin. 

(Or, he’s seen plenty of legs before from drowning and eating people, and he’s savouring the taste of them before he bites a chunk out of you. He’s got those sharp jaws for a reason. Still, you somehow don't mind if that's your fate.)

His tongue is long and wet, noticeably longer than any human tongue. It would be easy, from this angle, to forget that he has the bottom half of a fish until he opens his mouth. But his tongue laving over your thighs and the slight scrape of his teeth wrenches you back to the reality that you may be about to let this supposedly-mythical beast eat you out.

Or… maybe you’re just letting him lick your thighs. He doesn’t seem to be paying much mind to your pussy at all, actually. You think it’s possible he may be fooled by the concept of underwear. So as he damn near gnaws at your thigh, you shift slightly to tug them aside. Din sees your movement and pulls away from your leg, brown eyes filling with lusting curiosity. 

His eyes are on your fingers as you pull your panties aside and tuck the crotch of them between your pussy and your thigh. Din’s eyes dilate, and you can tell he recognises just what it is. It's just what he was after, to eat in one way or another. 

Before you can do much else Din grabs your legs, talons digging ever so slightly into your thighs but not breaking skin, and tugs. 

You yelp, scrambling for purchase as he yanks you off the edge of the dock– this is it, you think, you’ve just invited this creature to drag you to the depths to your unfortunate wet death. 

As you begin to come to terms with your imminent end, though, he stops, leaving your top half still above the surface. You’re distantly thankful that it's a somewhat warm day so you won't get hypothermia from the water if you end up surviving this. 

With more careful hands, like he heard your frightened yelp, Din turns you around so you can brace your arms comfortably on the surface of the dock. 

Oh, you realise. He wasn't trying to drown you. He was only trying to do this in his domain. If you had the brain for it you might think it were some territorial thing, which it is, but any thoughts in your head are melted away by the sudden drag of his lengthy tongue through your folds. 

A strangled sort of noise leaves your throat, and your eyes pop open at the hot muscle dragging appreciatively along your pussy. Even if he hasn't ever seen a human pussy before, it evidently can't be much different from a mermaid’s from the way he seems to know what to do with it. His arms wrap around your thighs to hold you in place, and you’re left digging your nails into the worn down wood to hold you up. 

Because you’ve forgotten how to be, you’re far from quiet. You cry out when his tongue brushes over your clit, the strange feeling of it being played with underwater like this heightening the feeling. 

(Somehow it's so much more than when you touch yourself in the bath, maybe because the water is cold, or because it's a foreign body, or maybe because the man doing it is used to doing it underwater.)

His tongue is rough, like wet sandpaper (but of a low, worn-down grit), and it laps reverently at your clit. Din’s mouth refuses to leave your pussy, and the delighted shouts of pleasure refuse to stay in your mouth. You think that he can probably hear it beneath the current, because he only begins to suck at it more fervently. 

“Fuck!” You hear yourself scream, before Din finally leaves your clit so just his nose bumps against it. He gives you barely a second of soft licks at your hole before he’s plunging his tongue into it. Your nails drag against the dock as your scream of delight is trapped in your throat. 

How is it that Din’s tongue delves so much deeper than your fingers ever have? It prods deeper than anything that's gone in there in months, fills you more perfectly than several of your fingers ever have. It’s like his tongue was made just to fit in your pussy, to find the spot that drives you insane with such little effort. You can't even begin to wonder about his cock. 

He laps at your hole, his large nose prodding against your clit as your entire body goes tight. Your thighs clamp around his head and you sob his name. 

“Din!” You scream, body trembling. “I’m-”

There’s no sense in warning him when it hits you so suddenly, probably more surprising to you than it is to him. Your vision goes white and you let out a guttural groan, forehead banging down against the wood as you writhe in pleasure, pussy trying to milk Din’s tongue. 

(You won’t have the cognitive function to realise it until hours later, but his tongue has stopped moving for how hard your cunt is clamped down on it.)

When your vision returns in spots and you find the ability to breathe again, Din’s tongue continues. You whine, scrambling against the dock to pull your oversensitive cunt away from his mouth. His arms only clamp down harder on your thighs, holding you in place. 

You gasp, tears blurring your vision as you manage to reach down into the water and tug harshly on his hair. That seems to give him the hint he needs to give your poor pussy a moment to breathe. In a second, his mouth has pulled away and left you dreadfully empty. With gentle hands and strong arms, he lifts your body back onto the dock and rolls you onto your back. 

You stare at the blue sky, panting. His hands trail gently over your thighs again, rubbing them in soothing circles. You lift your head just in time to see him press a kiss to your sensitive pussy, like a kiss to a lover. You can't help but feel a bit charmed by the gesture, until he suddenly clamps his jaw down on your inner thigh. You yelp in an odd mix of pain and offence, but before you can say anything, he’s slithering off the dock and back into the water.

You want to scramble after him, but your limbs feel like lead– which is quite the accomplishment considering you’ve built up the stamina for several orgasms in one go. So, instead of fruitlessly trying to draw him back to the surface to tell him off, you flop onto your back and close your eyes, too pleased to really process that you just came on a merman’s tongue.

[dangermousie]

That is so interesting he thought she was dead...(no wonder he had to justify to himself why he had to do what he did.)

I love how sharp he is; this isn't someone easily deceived. I get off on my characters being competent.

Ooooooh! It's a good excuse. Wonder if she plans to tell him once her revenge is complete.

I AM SCREAMING SO FREAKING HARD, IF THIS ISN'T A CONFESSION, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS!!! Wonder how many nights he lay there thinking of her, thinking of her dead, thinking of her dead because of him.

This goes sideways so fast and I love love love that he's wary and paranoid and nobody's fool and can see through her (and yet ultimately with all of this, still keeps her by his side.)

Ummmm, here is where I thought this scene could just as easily turn into his shoving her against the wall and proceeding to play with things other than baduk stones. That chemistry!!!

(I swear, he looks like he is getting off on the thought of her going after him.)

Dude, so much therapy for you and less murder!!!

You have a positive obsession with her tongue...

In conclusion, this is such a good subtle demonstration what insanity the throne is. Even someone as smart and competent as he is, and who went through captivity and his insane brother's reign with a certain degree of gentle embattled sunniness intact, has had it stripped and is left with darkness and ruthlessness and...I don't want to say paranoia because they are after him for real but...painful wariness.

[tabithatwo]

Lowkey imagine the breaking my silence meme bc it feels real for this sentiment but I don’t want to add it here okay? Are you ready? Are you prepared for me to maybe piss you off a little idk how this will be received so just keep an open mind (or don’t I can’t control the gates of your brain I guess but at least I’ve warned you!!)

I think the fact that the two main ways of categorizing jackie taylor are, when boiled down to their simplest terms,

(1) popular mean girl who is a selfish bitch who I hate

(2) loser girl failure who isn’t actually popular or talented who I love

is ummmm sort of telling.

Like. Stay with me. I’m not hating on anyone. Actually, if you’re in group one I am hating on you a little tbh and you can clock out early and start sending me that hate anon now lmao cause this post isn’t really about you. But group two! stay with me for a minute because I get you! I really do! But I want to challenge that thinking and sort of examine it.

Why do we need to twist jackie into something else to like her? Like, if you see jackie as kind and loving and generally just a teenage girl trying to do her best, right? Why then do parts of her have to be “explained away” to a degree? She’s the striker and captain of a nationals bound team. Why does she have to not be a successful athlete to align with the sweetness that you see in her? Yes, coach martinez tells her she isn’t the best on the team, but we see how they treat allie who isn’t actually up to par. There’s nothing to indicate that jackie isn’t very good. Why does she actually have to be friendless besides shauna? Yes, it’s clear those two are codependent and mostly attached at the hip, but in the pilot we aren’t given reason to think that jackie is some friendless unliked girl. She’s socializing with different people and they seem to like her plenty. When she lines the team up yeah, there’s eye rolling, but they listen to her and they seem to mostly take her compliments fondly. She’s homecoming queen, that’s decided on by people voting you in and, generally speaking, you have to be liked and known by a lot of people for that to happen (again if you’re someone who thinks she’s an evil manipulative bitch somehow, this isn’t directed at you lmao).

Why can’t a girl be pretty and decently popular and talented at her sport and be kind and lovable? Why do we see a girl like jackie and need her to be secretly bad at that shit and not widely liked to find her palatable?

Like (1) girl is either truly pretty and popular and talented, so she’s a bitch OR (2) girl is sweet, so she can’t actually be pretty and popular and talented.

That’s the formula we’re fed constantly and I’m really tired of it cause it’s rebranded misogyny that we internalize and accidentally project onto the world tbh and I’m guilty of that in ways, like I’ve been there!!!

But idk. Yeah, Jackie is awkward at times and not good at popping deer tendons and embarrassingly earnest and a lot of other things along those lines!! But you can be all those things and still be everything else she is y’know? That’s sort of my whole point.

Anyway, let girls be good at things without that making them a bitch is what I’m getting at, I guess. Because I see a lot of people defend jackie from the “she’s a mean bitch” hate by saying “no she’s not, she’s literally got one friend and she’s not even good at soccer.”

And it’s like WELL idk about that!! And even if that was true, why is THAT the automatic defense against someone calling her a bitch?? Why are those two things so heavily equated and not even viewed as a logical leap? Why is the defense not to bring up all the kind loving things we see her do, but to chip away at the traits that she possesses that we are trained to find obnoxious or hateable in women, but aren’t fucking innately bad?

Anyway just a thought! I don’t hate anyone for making a joke about girlfailure jackie okay! Some of those are so funny and legit but it’s an overall trend I’m discussing! And like the idea that to be a girlfailure in the ways that she is, she must also be not well liked and bad at the shit she loves! Just an observation! <3 <3 <3

[mallorykeen]

Elaborate on the letting go of grudges 👀

did i get sent this ask in ummmm september 2021 when i was actually still in school? yeah. am i now halfway through a university degree? yeah. sorry this is late. anyway.

for context this ask is about something i said about a theme in mcga being about letting go of grudges, letting things go et cetera et cetera particularly in five areas (some of it crosses over but yk):

hunding and helgi

magnus and his mother

randolph and his family

tj and jeffrey toussaint

magnus and loki

hunding and helgi is basically you hold onto a grudge until after you die and one of you suffers at the hands of the other until the end of the nine worlds. whenever that happens. it doesn't need too much elaboration on it's own i think but you know? they've both been there since the eighth century ce. and they could have moved on, helgi could not have had odin put hunding into his service and so on but he did and hunding might have made it to paradise but it's going to suck. forever

magnus in book one is given the offer of let us end the nine worlds and in return you get your mother and he picks to save the nine worlds even though he will never see his mother again. he has to let go of his hope to see her again in order to delay ragnarok for the time being

in contrast, randolph doesn't stop trying to see his family again, even when it involved the deaths of his sister and nephew. he could have taken magnus' hand at the end of hammer of thor but he chooses to fall instead because he can't let go of them

tj and jeffery toussaint spend years and years rehashing their first fight. they go into the daily battle, kill each other, repeat because they can't let go of the grudge until tj does let go since he sees hunding and helgi and decides he doesn't want to be like that but jeffrey just disappears one day (i think he fades but its been a while since ive read sotd)

and finally: magnus chooses not to use his flyting with loki to try and bring down loki but instead honours his friends. it's a bit power of friendshippy but he chooses not to go into his anger about what loki's done to him and the people he's cared about and instead move past it onto better things

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

When Galadriel was yapping to Theo about how her malewife is a twink who couldn't fit in an armor, did you think Galadriel gave the audience a Red herring image of Celeborn? As the show’s quote goes: “Looks can be deceiving.” Celeborn is probably no longer a twink in oversized armor by now. That's one of the reason to believe Celeborn has been hiding in plain sight all along because we're suppose to expect someone who looks like what she describes (and ur telling me that's suppose to be exciting??? idk) Another point to Adar=Celeborn theory!

LOOK, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN WITH ADAR IF HE USES THIS RING. NONE.

But I am opening my mind to all possibilities at this point. Sam and Miv have chemistry out the yin-yang.

I also think that they could explain everything with the help of 2 things:

1. The fact that Adar didn't confirm or deny Galadriel's assumption that he was one of "the first orcs" in the barn scene.

2. The insane degree to which Sauron is manipulating Galadriel’s mind. IMHO, if he didn't want her to recognize her husband, she wouldn't. (Though one could suspect that it was mayyybe starting to slip in S2Ep6. Which would explain THE VIBES and the fact that they both looked like they wanted to hop the next express train to Pound Town.)

Also ummmm... this is giving Elf Prince vibes, like my brain doesn't have to stretch to believe that:

While I remain an "Adar is a Cuiviénen elf truther" til the end, if the show wants me to leap, I will.

[tiktaalic]

im moving to dfw from seattle this summer. impart your wisdom, if you would

It ROCKS to live in a real city. The factory in deep ellum in Dallas is a lovely little music venue. Denton’s a college town so it has a killer music scene. Bishop arts district was lovely when I was a kid idk how it looks in the last decade tho. Whataburger is Fine but the important thing is it’s open at 2 am when you’re drunk. The Fort Worth zoo is better than the Dallas zoo and it’s one of the best in the country. Carshon’s is an awesome Jewish cash only deli over by the zoo. Dallas has the biggest and first half price books store and across the street is a little family owned German restaurant where they play accordion on Friday/sat nights. I never kicked around in Dallas too much but Fort Worth has a pretty robust museum district. The Amon carter ROCKS it’s a free art museum with a bunch of classical exhibits and you only have to pay if you want to see some specific temporary installation. I saw Judith slaying holofernes there (not there anymore) it fucking rocks. Honestly I don’t find the stockyards that impressive I would just spend the $12 bucks on the cowgirl museum or some other western museum there are plenty. The perot is awesome and in Dallas. The stock show is fine it’s like any other little fair/carnival. Good way to kill a weekend if you need to kill a weekend. The state fair is crazy go see that thing. Oh there’s a beautiful on the water sculpture let me find it hold on. The fair park lagoon.

It of course goes without saying that you can’t throw a rock without hitting a restaurant that’ll blow your dick off. Ummmm. If you’re driving in Dallas. Stay safe out there. Anecdotally I’ve seen more drivers weave like assholes in the pnw but Dallas is sometimes a 90 mph minimum in the right lane kind of situation. BUGS ARE REAL ! You will hear cicadas for the first time in your life it’s a beautiful summer experience. Skeeter spray a must if you’re outside after like 5pm. There’ll be like PSAs on billboards or mailing adverts about How To Prevent Mosquitoes. Basically don’t have any standing water in your yard and you’re good. House geckos :-). If you’re in the city you don’t have to worry about ticks or snakes but they do exist and are something to be wary of if you’re ever called to tromp through the woods. You are going to find summers unbearable. Everybody’s gonna have AC you’ll be fine inside but you are going to complain about triple degree summers and how you can’t go outside. Nothing to do about that one except carry around 64 oz ice water to drink and pour on your head. Liquor laws are stricter which means no hard alcohol in gas stations / convenience stores / grocery stores you have to go to a liquor store. Also you can’t buy alcohol before noon on Sunday. Oh my god. The sun. You’re going to see the sun soooooo much. And there’ll be thunderstorms! Also Dallas Fort Worth Are two different cities 45 minutes apart that you have to drive through Other real cities to get to each other through. Seattle on the left DFW on the right. For comparison.

Also like. You know how the i5 corridor is like. Okay I’m driving through the woods for 3 hours and seeing a town every hour I can get gas 10 exits from now. Highways in texas between Dallas and Fort Worth are like ok I’m driving past flat yellow field and there’s a gas station at every exit for the next 30 exits. Different if you leave DFW! You can get empty field stretches coming in and out of houston and on your way to west texas and pretty much any drive longer than an hour that’s not. Straight from Dallas to Fort Worth. I loveeee the local public radio station. KXT I still listen to it in my car daily. Um. That’s my list of #cultural differences. And places to go 👍

[alpydk]

🤖🚦🎁🔮👑 for fanfic writer asks!

Yesssss, let me procrastinate from writing the action scene. Thank you <3

🤖 Are non-fandom friends aware that you write fanfic?

Yeah, my partner gets asked all my random forgotten realms questions I could easily google or basic English ones. i.e. - Is it artefact or artifact? He's not even the native speaker but you can see how the UK education system failed me writing wise ^^ I also don't have a fancy literature degree. I'm just an idiot with a keyboard. My best friend also knows and regularly has me excitedly ramble on about everything I'm writing and why. She's also on my ZhentWeave train with me currently, despite not really understanding what's happening. And my sister knows because she writes stuff herself.

🚦What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?

Oh bittersweet, I want a happy ending that comes with loss and heartbreak. The ending of Little by Little is probably one of my favourite for this. I also love a tragic ending where you just sob. Happy endings are great but I find they just don't stick as well with me, like of all the best movies endings I think of, none are happy endings.

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

I want to share my entire WIP at the moment because I'm just excited about it. But you can have this - taken from the GalexRugan fic: Tattered Souls!

“Gale, not your fight…” With a frustrated sigh, the static ridden hand was lowered. “I can’t let them kill you.” Rugan felt the blood on his palm, tasted the copper tinge mixing with his spit. All that was missing was the alchemical fire and Olly’s corpse to complete the set. “I’m already on borrowed time.”

🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?

Ummmm.... Switch your brain off and write bollocks. A few weeks back, I was done writing, done with Tumblr and just all of it. And when I switch off from a hobby, that's normally it. I hadn't crocheted for around 4 years before the Gale one to give you some idea of how easily I will dump something I'm semi okay at. But with this I took a few days, no writing, no thinking of ideas, no wanting to write at all, and then I sat down with Word open and just started typing what was in my head. Almost like a journal, the little life regrets, the dreams, the mini scenes in bullet points and one stuck in my head making Gone with the Weave. It reignited me again.

👑 Do you like writing short fics or long fics?

I prefer short fics, but there has to be a limit. Around 1500 words are normally good for me, gets the scene of what I want, can fit in all the emotion and stuff I want. Something shorter seems a little pointless unless it's just a spur-of-the-moment idea. I enjoy writing a long fic but it requires so much planning and then I have to keep on top of it because I hate seeing a fic abandoned half way. To give you an idea, this is just some of Act3 of Cabinet of Oddities

[onbearfeet]

I'm currently reading the werewolf by night comics from the early 70s on wards to his current. The way you write Jack is so * chef kiss*

Also can I please give you a cookie for the monster mash series because AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I love it so much 😍😍😍😍😍

🍪

*gobbles the cookie*

Thank you! I read all the WBN comics I could dig up as a kid, well into the early 2000s, but I'm not up to date on the current stuff. (Please tell me what you find that's good!) I do love Jack, though. I love how the special made him so much kinder and more awkward, and how it emphasized a kind of monster solidarity between Jack and Ted that Jack immediately extended to Elsa. And making Jack Mexican and so much older works so well on so many levels even before you get to the specific casting of Gael. I had given the special a pass at first because I was so burned out after Endgame, but I saw a YouTube retrospective on it a year after it aired and was like ummmm I think I need this. I've been going through a hard time personally, so getting to escape into Monster Mash has been a real blessing for me.

There is more Monster Mash coming, I promise! I'm working on the next installment, which will feature the gang investigating a supposedly haunted house.

Also, I'm hoping to start doing some free writing seminars/jam sessions on Twitch soonish, with a focus on lessons that are fun and helpful for fanfic writers as well as original fiction writers. I have a master's degree in writing and have taught it for 15 years or so, and it annoys me that people are using AI to write fic, so I'm hoping to be the change. If you're interested in writing or know anyone who is, feel free to invite them! And of course I'm always happy to get suggestions for lesson topics.

[focsle]

Recovering from complete burnout and slowly trying to open up to writing again, I've hit a bit of a snag and thought to ask. Any tips on how to write for a more historical setting? Any thoughts on how to constructs sentences or world building that doesn't make it feel too modern?

Best of luck to you in slowly emerging from the burnout. I hope your writing flows!

My biggest tip for both of your questions is research research research. Reading secondary sources about the time period you’re interested in is a good place to start to understand the historical context of the era. But after you get a grounding in all that, primary sources is where the world really shines. It depends on what time period you’re looking at, because some eras and places are absolutely more accessible than others in terms of surviving documents, but my primary source explorations is where I’ve really been able to get the most information to build out my world, make it feel lived in, and understand the cadence of people’s voices. You get to learn how they thought, what they sounded like, what they cared about. Little turns of phrase. Things like that.

Some places you can start to get a sense of language are books, magazines, and newspapers written from the time period. Transcripts of testimonies in court records. Letter writing and etiquette guides. Dictionaries contemporary to the time period you’re writing in, including slang dictionaries (like grose's dictionary of the vulgar tongue). But those aren’t entirely representative of how people talked, so if you can find diaries and letters those are the best. Of course, with all these things, what is available and what people sound like is also going to be bound up in things like class and access to education, but those are places to start.

It also depends on how intense you want to be, as far as not wanting it to be ‘too modern’. Some writers want to filter out most anachronistic words. Here’s a blog post of one writer who created a custom dictionary and used it to spell check her manuscript for words that didn’t exist yet. But on the flipside you also have comedies like Blackadder that has the most IMPECCABLE and beautiful costuming because viewers would write in being like ‘ummmm excuse me that 18th century button is wrong’, but absolutely bonkers historically inaccurate scriptwriting. And that intentional contrast is what makes it effective as a comedy. With me, I want people’s voices to sound of the era to some degree, but I always acknowledge that I’m ultimately writing FOR a modern audience. So I’m gonna make some of my dudes say ‘yeah’, you know?

When writing historical fiction, I think the most important thing to keep in mind still that you’re telling a story, not writing an encyclopedia. And one can take creative liberties to best tell that story. But at the same time, there is a WEALTH of amazing authenticating details that can be found in research that will enrich that narrative in ways that you can’t get from referencing other historical fiction or just using your imagination about what you THINK something might be like. History is weird! And people in the past are forever surprising! But also often quite like people today—they felt the exact same things that we feel now because people are people are people, which I also don’t think should be forgotten in writing a historical story. For me, I’m not writing a nonfiction—people aren’t going to learn the ins and outs of whaling from my comic in the same way they would reading an academic text about it. But I need that world to feel grounded, and I need to invite people into it fully, and I need to understand the sort of men who found themselves there. The research and authenticating details is how I try to do that. It also helps that it’s a topic I’m obsessed with; I read dead whalers’ journals over my morning coffee or at 2am just for fun so…the research isn’t a hardship for me at all. But either way, the two need to balance each other. And I think how much you lean in one direction or the other depends entirely on your narrative and what you’re hoping to do with it.

[lais-a-ramos]

random questions <3

tagged by @elizabeth-mitchells 😊 thank you so much for tagging me 🫶🏾

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav color: it's changed over time tbh. for a long time, it's been orange, but i guess that, as i got older, i'm fluctuating between red -- particularly wine red -- and blue, sometimes purple bc it's a blend of both.

also, darker shades of green, bc they remind me of trees and that calms my anxiety 😅😊

oh, and light pink like my blog at the moment, which is fun bc i used to be one of those "i hate pink" tomboys lol

still a tomboy for the most part, but light pink has grown on me 😅😊

: ̗̀➛ how long have u been on tumblr for: oh, idk how much, but i guess i made my first blog around 2014, so, more or less 10 years

: ̗̀➛ wheres a place u always wanted to travel to: wow, that's a hard one 😅 i always dreamed of traveling the world as a kid, but idk if i ever had one placed as a main goal, you know???

i guess maybe Greece, bc of my long-time passion for Ancient Greece, or maybe Mexico, bc some Mexican tv shows, like telenovelas or el chavo del ocho, are very popular here in Brazil and i grew up watching Brazilian variety shows making specials about traveling there

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav clothing brand(s): clothing brands are a bit expensive here in Brazil, so, i don't have any, i usually go for retail 😅

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav singer/band(s): paramore, most definetely.

been this way for around 16 or 17 years and counting lol

to complete the top 5, florence + the machine, of monsters and men, chvrches, and the beatles.

i do love much more stuff tho, it was very hard to pick this top 5 lmao

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur current phone lockscreen: a pic of jinx and isha from arcane (those two now have my heart...something something isha being the opportunity for jinx to give another kid the protection, love and acceptance she herself never received etc etc)

: ̗̀➛ most recent/current hyperfixation: probably yellowjackets, if my blog is any indication lol

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur relationship status: single

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur dream job: when i was a teen, i dreamt of being a musician, but, since i only had the opportunity to study music at 21, it's got a bit hard 😅😐

right now, i wish i could use my degree for something in public policies ig.

like, not as a politician, but, working in an NGO or any civil society organization that works for important causes.

tho that is a bit hard to achieve at the moment, especially even management roles even in this area seems to require ppl to know statistics and programming these days 😭

: ̗̀➛ outside of tumblr, fav social app: ummmm...

yk, after we spent here in Brazil more or less 1 month with twitter blocked, i started to enjoy bluesky a lot.

it's very chill and has great moderation features, so, probably the best place to curate your experience outside of tumblr at the moment

: ̗̀➛ do u have pets (if u do have pets, what kind/how many):

yes :) 1 very cute elderly dog

: ̗̀➛ do u prefer tea or coffee: tea. i love tea. drinking a cup of tea before going to sleep = inner peace

: ̗̀➛ whats ur fav ice cream flavor: chocolate.

i do love other flavors tho, like chocolate chip, or malted chocolate.

ohhh, some flavors that we have here in Brazil that i love are pineapple with coconut and corn.

YES, corn. i can vouch for it, it's amazing. i <3 corn ice cream

: ̗̀➛ tag at least three other tumblr accounts:

@monstrousgourmandizingcats @invisible-pink-toast @frog4278 @periwinklekryptonite @brightpuffinstuff @suprecorp @lovestrucklovesickslut @meganonmain

[collegecuckcakev3]

I am 32, a college graduate, okay just a bachelor’s degree, but my boss, a man three years younger and who I have dated clandestinely due to company policy, just hired a new girl to be my direct supervisor. She’s only 22 and I checked her Facebook and the only school she attended was beauty school. My friend in HR privately told me she already makes more than me and I’ve been here eight years. The boss and I had a great relationship until he told me his wife was getting suspicious. His wife’s father owns the company. I feel like I’m getting cucked and I’m not even married to him. Is there such a thing?

Ummmm it kinda sounds like he is just using his position and authority to get pussy. If you are looking for a long term relationship with him I would leave this situation and fast! If you're ok just being his side pussy then you may need to share him with her if he starts fucking her as well.

[fiercynn]

so @manogirl, @inventedfangirling, and @sharingfandoms all tagged me in the thai ql favorites tag game (thanks friends!), and i wasn't sure if i had enough to say about shows other than bad buddy to do it, but i figure you can't ever talk about bbs too much amirite

favorite thai ql: yeah so it's bad buddy, surprise surprise. i watched it all in the course of like 36 hours in february 2022, not long after it had ended, and it has been thoroughly stuck in my soul ever since. i've watched it so many times and in so many pieces that i couldn't even guess at a number. i've posted...uh...200k words of bad buddy fic in the past year and half? the obsession is real. it's just such a perfect mix of antagonistic and silly and tense and sweet and heartbreaking and healing that i keep going back to it over over. i love its narrative arc, and i love its little details, and i love all the ways we get to keep reinterpreting it over and over in fanworks. and i love the people i've met in the fandom, which is really hard to separate from the show! i've made really close and awesome friends here, which seems extremely fitting tbh. so yeah anyway i like that show a lot

favorite pairing: seems obvious given my previous answer, but patpran, followed closely by inkpa! idk i just think they're both neat and extremely in love

most underrated actor: JENNIE PANHAN I NEED HER IN EVERYTHING OKAY

favorite character: parakul siridechawat. he's just so in love you guys, even when (he thinks) it's hopeless. i love a character who pines. my sexuality is pining actually and pran's might be too (jk i love pran for many many many reasons but this is the one i felt like talking about today)

favorite side character: i think it has to be a tie between mae from 3wbf and longtae from a tale of thousand stars...two very different characters! i love mae in all her complexity, her efforts to be good and kind and empathetic that are interrupted by the death of the one person who was good and kind and empathetic towards her, and her search for revenge once he's gone, and then her ultimate realization that she needs to stop the cycle of violence even if it takes one more act of violence herself. meanwhile i love longtae because he is sweet and funny and adorable and such a good friend to literally everyone in pha phun dao and also it's khao, how could i not?

favorite scene in a ql: so if i type the letter "y" in my browser, the first search result is the youtube link to bad buddy episode 5 part 4/4. does that answer your question

favorite line in a ql: i thought i was going to struggle with this one but it came to me instantly: uncle tong from bad buddy saying, "you might think one man can't change the world. but i want you to know that this world can't change someone like me either." have i mentioned i am both queer and work in climate activism for a living

most anticipated ql (& why): 23.5 degrees the series!!!! i was already one million percent there for milklove but the recent confirmation of viewjune is just like the icingest of icing on the cake. i'm so fucking stoked you guys

i'm sorry i'm not going to answer the question on guilty pleasure series because like @manogirl i do not believe in the concept, nor the ones on healthiest vs. toxic relationships because i simply do not feel like it <3

most underrated series: hmm, most of the thai ql series i've seen are too well-known/watched to count for this. like would we call gap the series underrated? probably not, right? maybe...triage? but i personally felt like triage got pretty uneven in the second half...idk this is the problem with having mostly stuck to gmmtv huh

i really have not kept good track of who has done this meme already so ummmm @citystoryscapes @mahuhumaling @melto @mousieta @incandescentflower @galauvant @dancing-out-in-space

[swirlygigg]

for the ask game: 2, 10, 34! (this is irisfixation btw, i'm just doing anon so i don't message from my main)

hi @irisfixation :)! no problemo, i gotcha!

2. Describe your first experience with hypnosis.

ooh... i kind of am split about what counts as my first! i think i generally like self-hypnosis so i'll talk about that. i remember being like REALLY interested in hypnosis while growing up and like many nerdy, kinky people, i also spent a lot of time in the library. i think i must have been around 13 when i was trying self-hypnosis--it was some book that was generally just about self-hypnosis for self-improvement--but i remember getting really relaxed and finally pushing past that "ooh, am i hypnotized yet?" voice in my head! it was a very brief trance honestly, i probably was not in it for more than a couple minutes or so because i was a very self-conscious teenager, but the kind of floaty, relaxed, and mellow feeling that i got from it are still my reference point for trances today!

10. Are you a difficult subject?

literally not at all LOL my favorite kinky stuff to do of all time is roleplay and to some degree, you train yourself to be hypnotized by roleplaying until you get it!

as i mentioned i also really like self-hypnosis so even if the other person hasn't totally nailed down their hypnotic skills, i can kind of nudge myself along the path!

(btw open invitation to come practice your hypnosis skills with me <3)

34. What’s one fictional character you’ve fantasised about hypnotising/being hypnotised by?

GOD UMMMM haha! i will talk about both sides because i think that's kind of fun.

as far as fantasizing about hypnotizing someone... well so much of it has to do with the voice. like you know some people are into the eyefluttering or eye rolls, which is like also hot, don't get me wrong!!! i like that too! but if someone has a really good voice... and you can imagine them repeating after what you say in that sleepy hypnotized voice people get... AUGH (///) it's so. i can't even describe properly. it's like the hottest thing in the world to have a good voice. so if a character has what i consider a good voice for hypnosis, it's more fun to fantasize about that.

being hypnotized by a character. oh my god. there's this scene in t@karazuka's production of elisabeth where der tod is kind of like leading the dance in the song "the shadows grow longer" and it's like. EEK. i kind of just have to put the video in here so you understand, but der tod is like manipulating rudolf and it's like. hot. how do i describe how hot i find m1zu's performance of this character... girl she is IN my fantasies. she is a regular player in them. there are for sure other characters i have thought about but like the helplessness in this scene. OUGH

[orlaithrose]

when: 25th June where: blacksand beach who: @eliasvelari

Anyone would think Orlaith was leaving town for a weekend trip, not going to the beach with her best friend. She'd made her way across the beach searching for a good spot - harder to find now the weather had warmed up - laden with bags. Now, settled on a beach mat whose edges kept flapping in the wind, she presented it all to Elias as though she was handing over the keys to his freedom. "Some food, obviously. Beach cafes are nice, but it's such an effort to walk back across the sand to get there rather than just, staying here. Besides, what would we do with our stuff?" It wasn't like you could leave anything unattended on this beach.

Some food, when she opened one of her cool boxes, was revealed to be an understatement. It was packed to the brim with anything you could imagine, including two whole pizzas, cooked and cut up neatly into slices. "Stuff to make piña coladas, what else would you want to drink on the beach," - that was in the second cool box, both of them specially lined with ethereum to keep them colder for longer, pinched from home because her dad would never go on a picnic, - "ummmm, a pack of cards in case you want to lose at go fish to me, annnnnd—" She produced the last bag with rather a proud flourish. "Buckets and spades so we can make a sandcastle." She'd even brought along a tiny flag to poke into it, which she waved in Elias's direction.

There were also endless bottles of water, suncream, her iPad (stupid thing to bring to Port Grave but she'd never excelled at being sensible) in case they wanted to watch a film at some point, snacks in every bag (what if she'd lost the snack bag along the way with everything she'd had to carry? Better to spread them out), pillows if either of them wanted a nap, and a blanket in case it got cold later. "See. I told you we wouldn't have to move all day," Orlaith said with some degree of pride as she plopped herself into the beach chair beside her friend.