#unless this is a totally average thought and experience?

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

my mom doesn’t think im autistic and then i write shit like, “yeah i look for patterns in my life but for some reason socializing and people never fit? why cant i apply other knowledge to being a person with other people”

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

[kiame-sama]

They did the same thing to Sam! But they got rid of his Tattoos

I was honestly upset about that because they looked so COOL! (Though I don’t know if it’s tattoos or makeup, but I’m pretty sure it’s Tattoos)

So my question is, as a Shadowman, would Sam have glowing marks on his body when he’s in total darkness? But they look like bones (Or maybe all Shadowpeople have it?)

That's what's called their 'nightlight' form. All shadow folk have two forms, their 'daylight' forms and 'nightlight' forms. Shadowfolk are extremely sensitive to sunlight so they have to wrap shadows around themselves to not be burned by the harsh UV rays. Shadow folk are from a lively place in a forever darkened land, so they typically don't encounter sunlight often early on in life.

Their 'daylight' forms make them look like humanoid-shaped masses of shadow/smoke. Usually only their eyes shine through in this form and the shadows offer protection from UV rays and potential threats, so they are in their 'daylight' forms when around sunshine or threatened.

The 'nightlight' forms of Shadowfolk are bright, colorful, and almost hypnotizing as they seem to glow in the darkness. Typically every Shadowperson has a unique 'nightlight' form that changes as they age and experience new things. The more colorful and bombastic the 'nightlight' form is, the more experienced and knowledgeable the Shadowperson. It is rare to see a Shadowperson in their 'nightlight' form outside of the darkest hours of the night with no moon and their home in the Midnightlands. Even moonlight is a bit too bright some nights.

Despite the Midnightlands having been cursed long ago to live eternally in shadows, life there is vibrant, blooming, and colorful. Much like the Shadowfolk that live there, the plants, animals, and even some rocks have bioluminescence and splashes of color throughout.

The air usually hums with activity and sound, fluffy neon purple bees landing on vibrant pink star flowers adding a gentle atmosphere to the land. Plants evolved to live off of the nutrients in the soil and the faint light of other nearby plants. Large trees feed thousands of other plants and benefit from the nutrients in the soil when the plants die. Mushrooms thrive in this place.

The terrain varies in the Midnightlands, from swampy settings to vibrant woods and gentle sloping prairies. Almost every creature in the Midnightlands has some trace magic. Many creatures call this place home and have adapted to this darkened land, needing magic to do so. Most do not have the awareness of their inherent magic to survive in sunlight. It hurts their eyes and burns the skin like a toxic mist surrounds them. Because they all have magic, they are all a little more dangerous than your average beasts.

The untamed forests and forgotten caves are as dangerous as anywhere else in Twisted Wonderland, but the villages, towns, and cities are some of the safest. Food in the Midnightlands is often cooked in some way, many plants toxic unless heated through. It is considered a unique cuisine not often found outside of the Midnightlands as it isn't typically required for most sun grown plants.

Time is not thought of in day or night cycles but internal circadian rhythm which results in most stores in the Midnightlands being open at all times as some are just going to sleep and some are just waking. This constant wakefulness of some part of the population in these cities, towns, and villages are why they are so safe. Someone is always looking out.

[fitgirlfemdom]

Small dick anon here. When I was 185lbs it measured 5 inches, but by the time I was 270 pounds it was only 4 inches with all the fat around it. I never used to have any complaints about my size but once I got bigger it changed. I would only occasionally slip out of someone before and was able to get a good amount of motion. By my biggest weight I had two sexual experiences. The first was with a longtime fwb who loved my dick I was around 260 and my partner likewise. With the extra weight it never stayed hard for as long, and I realized unless I was like totally hard I couldnt stay inside them at all. Theyd guide me in, I’d thrust my heavy overly sweaty body forward and when id motion back it would fall out. I ended up feeling so embarrassed after a few minutes of this that I took my half hard dick and just rubbed it against their clit using my hand and eventually I thrusting my shaft against them. In the end they came a couple times.

The next time I had sex I was even more out of shape at 273 and it was with a girl who was at least 270 herself. I tried fucking them missionary the same as the fwb but our stomachs were both so big. The same thing happened as before but I got hard enough to stay in. I literally couldnt actually thrust it forward it basically was just weight shifting without any friction. This only lasted a minute before she asked me to fuck her from behind. Her ass was huge and I barely got any friction, also had to rest my stomach on her ass to even get inside a little. She put her hands on the wall and rode my dick and that was the only way anything happened. Id never had it happen before but after about a minute i told her I was going to cum. I meant this to mean “slow down” but she started saying “cum for me baby” and pushed her ass into me harder. I came less than 10 seconds later drenched in sweat and completely out of breath. Id barely done anything. I felt so embarrassed I didnt even try fucking her again. She definitely didnt cum and she barely felt it at all.

I also had an online relationship where I showed her my dick and asked if she thought id be big enough to fuck her from behind or if id need a strap and she said “definitely a strap.” Apparently the first time i sent her a video of me touching myself it started with me being flaccid and between how fat my fupa was, you could only see the head and she thought i had a clit until i got harder. I’m 240 now so its still a small dick but i remember at my highest weight when i was flaccid even peeing had to be done sitting down because i didnt have enough length to aim and id have lean over to get the job done and then wipe up after like a girl. I wish I could have stayed that weight for longer, I really wanted to find a thin girl for the first time in my life just so I could see how disappointing I would be. Ive trained myself to cum in under a couple minutes and someday i hope I can get to be over 300 pounds so I can truly be pathetic. I was so close to buried penis syndrome I know with the right guidance and support I could get myself there and be a bit pathetic neutered fuck toy for someone to abuse and humiliate lol

AGHHHHH i've got a lot to say about this.

this reads like a fantasy scenario i'd post on here. the slow degradation of your sexual nature from average dude to sexual degenerate gets me going.

i've also heard from multiple pigs in my DMs that sex gets very difficult at the 270+ size, with cowgirl being the only suitable position. i can only imagine how difficult that would be if your female partner was also fat. honestly i'm having trouble understand how that would even work, but i digress. the girl's ass being so fat you couldn't even penetrate? honestly i feel bad for everyone in this situation. her riding you and making you cum in thirty seconds surprised me, as if i was in that situation, there's no way i'm letting a pig cum that quickly. omg i would've rode your face for an hour til you calmed your horny ass down

the last paragraph GOT ME. having such a small, covered dick that girls think you have a vulva is crazy. as a thin woman, i've never seen a dick that small in real life. i think the smallest dick of one of my partners was 4 inches, and it was so unsatisfying i swore off sex for the past year 😭 i can only imagine going out with a loser, giving him a chance, and getting home to seeing a one-inch nub between his legs. would you be able to penetrate anything with that? you'd probably have to just get oral for the rest of your life. i wonder how crazy it would feel to have a way smaller surface area, but the same amount of nerves, as an average sized cock. do you think you'd be sensitive? do you think you'd be able to have a vibrator on your little cockhead for more than a few minutes without shooting ropes? do you think if a pretty girl just sucked on your little cock for a few moments, you'd start moaning like a pathetic gooner? you'd want so bad to just fuck her like you used to be able to, but your dick just isn't good enough. you'll probably just end up humping her ass with your gut on her back while you cum down her thighs.

so helpless at sex that you'd just be reduced to sitting under your girl's desk, eating out her cunt while you jerk off your little nub between your fingers. eventually, you might get quite good at it. she might never even let you fuck her again, binding you up in a custom chastity cage because it's not like you can use it anyway.

aghhh thank you for this message small dick anon. i wish more of my inbox messages were like this

[batryz]

Self-indulgent Will headcanons

Or

(how i imagine him while reading and sketching) (im bored and miss him) (totally not biased–)

Poofy hair that curls at the tips. Not unlike a cloud.

Thick, bright golden hair that reaches his shoulders that is damn near untameable.

Is a claw clip preacher. Wears it when it gets busy in the infirmary. Otherwise, let's his hair loose. Ties it on special occasions.

Has the sun in his eyes. Literally. Central heterochromia. If it wasn't obvious that he was the son of Apollo already–

Dry and torn lips. Carries lip balm everywhere. (Frequently loses them though so has like 5+ of the same lip balm)

Tan skin, much freckles. Everywhere.

Genetics gave him flawless silky smooth skin.

Unintentional glowing. Doesn't always happen but when it does, it's much more obvious at night. An uncanny glow that brightens or dims depending on his mood.

Does have pierced ears but doesn't wear them often because it's a hazard being in the infirmary so often.

Does have his camp necklace, and Nico's ring chain around his neck. Keeps them under his shirt as much as possible though. Safer and less in the way while working.

Tattoo on the left of his chest. But we all knew that.

A star tattoo somewhere i know it. (Haven't thought of where please help)

Immaculate hand care routine. Not a nail unpolished or chipped. Still has tiny scars though.

His hands are not a hard and rough as most others at camp. His are mostly dry and cracked from over-sanitising.

Canon says he's built like a surfer. But i like to think he's built like a dancer. No, he can't dance to save his life.

Lean, toned and tall. Broad shoulders, slim waist. Amazing legs. (Totally not based on experience)

Has scars here and there. Particularly, a burn scar on one of his foot and a gash further up his other leg. They don't hurt anymore. (Sometimes the memories do, but he's getting better)

Navel piercing.

The most stunning man dressed in the most average outfits. Please don't let him dress himself for an important event. (Unless supervised)

Owns crocs let's be real.

...ok, that's all my brain has for now. In terms of appearances at least. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

I'll come back to rambling about him next time. Okioki, byebyee!

[gargusscp]

Sandy

Conceptual exploration drabble based on @zal-cryptid's upcoming Misfits in Toyland comic. How far can we extend the ideas of toys and play? Let's find out.

*****************************************************************

What’s in a grain of sand?

History, for one.  What once stood as a great solid mass worn from itself by the attritions of wind or water over ungodly ages, broken into millions and billions and trillions of component parts.  To most who walk these shifting tracts, there is no evidence once here stood an outcrop, a plateau, a cliff; merely now a different texture to the ground beneath their feet, beneath consideration unless a grain sticks somewhere unwanted.  The studied mind, however, one familiar with erosive sciences and larger distributive patterns, they might discern the rough nature of what once was from a grain.  Not on its lonesome, not divorced from its context, definitely never a fully accurate picture, but a near-microscopic grain of sand still betrays its origin to some degree.  Shape, texture, hardness, size, solvency, all these properties in comparison against its neighbors.  Such a tale to be told, the shadow of a mountain hidden in part within something measuring less than a millimeter.

And with a history, why not a mind?  No such thing as zero to God, as the man said, and in total accumulation even a pinch of sand between fingers amounts to an awful lot of near-but-not-quite zeroes.  Interrogate one grain properly, and so many pieces of the story appear.  Do the same with the next, and the next, and the next, there manifest more hints, further clues.  Now gather a group in one palm, consider their collective quality, walk a dozen paces down the beach, take another scoop, compare them.  And then another, and another, and another.  Slowly the picture grows, definition sharpening, details clarifying, fogged vision swimming less violently with each focal adjustment.

Now, a similar exercise with the typical mind’s home in a brain.  Poke at one neuron, followed by its neighbor, and carry on in the established pattern.  A few memories here, behavior patterns there, governing rules for a particular internal system down that way.  Scrape some gray matter away, presume some futuristic means of examining its contents and function without inflicting damage by said removal, and it is very much a kind with the grain of sand.  Molded and reshaped by years of electrical impulses and chemical uptakes and releases, communicating with its fellows in a plasticine dance of formation and adaptation.  Carbon mastered into a deliberate shape, made wet and conductive and warm, housing joys and rages and despairs untold.

Why not silica as carbon? Why not a grain of sand as a neuron?  Why not a beach as a mind?  It is, after all, your best guess for what you are.

You cannot rightly say you think about these matters very often.  All told, you don’t think much at all.  Most hours, you simply are, a distributed mass of silicate uncountable, unfeeling, unthinking, unaware.  Or at least, unaware in the moment.  When consciousness does come, you find the experiences of the sand somewhat accessible in memory, recollections of a late night’s chilled gale, or a particularly forceful crashing wave, the patter of bird’s talons and occasionally something like stalking hooves.  To some extent, you must exist when you cannot think, experiencing the world in a strange dreamless sleep, logging experience in a manner more actively retrievable than garbled dreaming interpretation of outside stimuli in more normative REM cycles.

Either way, these are not the thoughts of a mind with nothing but time on its side.  You process ideas and inquisitive lines quite quickly, thank goodness, but active thought and awareness only come in fits and starts.  Sometimes a scant few minutes, on average an hour or so. Even with the seconds so precious, however, it is always helpful to start by organizing and relitigating this particular track.  In an existence alien as this, time spent considering the possibilities in a single grain and the oddity of your life grounds you in a most comforting way.  Even if you are ground, after a fashion.  Grounds need their grounding in self-awareness too, you know.

It is good to indulge whatever thoughts come along.  You suspect Descartes might disagree with your supposition that thought does not necessarily imply existence, but old Descartes never had to work out his philosophy for only a few irregularly scattered moments while also being a beach, now did he?  Object example there: random bout of pettiness against a centuries-dead thinker.  Feels nice to let those thoughts flow, like sand kicked about by the breeze or lapped by the waves.  Once, long ago, you tried forcing your thoughts down particular avenues, clinging to questions like, “What the fuck is happening?” or “What am I?  Who am I?  Where am I,” loops of, “Oh my God, no, oh my God, no, oh my God, no, oh my God, no!”  Painfully stiff and limiting, those.  A touch of grounding exercises for a moment or so, and then onto free forms.  So much better.

The sun seems nice to you this day.  Somewhat wan, as if hidden behind a thin cloud layer, yet sufficiently penetrative to warm the atmosphere much as it can in these frigid environs.  The waves bite hard as ever, alas.  Had you the mobility and inclination, you’d not risk even their shallows.  On some distant stretch of shore, you can sense the winds blow harder than one might find tolerable.  Here, at the locus point, they are relatively still.

Now, who’s out today?  Who stirs your sands?

In their usual spot, the trod of two have settled to pile the rough start to a sandcastle.  Perhaps a crude sculpture, or mayhaps a humble mound.   Their constructive efforts vary so from day to day - at this instant, you can feel a larger set of fingers scooping at your surface with greater vigor than the smaller, nimbler pair, but early goings rarely indicate their final intentions.  At the least, their activities seemingly focus on collection rather than digging, so there is little chance either will bury their fellow today.

There is digging some feet further away, however, the familiar scrape of uncoordinated hands pawing away a shallow hole.  If previous experiences hold, soon a small weight will be deposited within, the hands’ owner will sit upon the sand, adjust the weight some, and then remain still for some hours. These you might lose in the stillness, consistent unmoving presences being difficult to focus upon, though you expect some small chance footsteps will wander from the first site to this, followed by a sprinkling of grains atop and around the weight, and then uncoordinated scuffing before the approaching feet retreat with a quicker step.  Such happenings are not uncommon.

Down by the water’s edge, where awareness of the sands that are you blurs against the sands that are not, a soft, broad nub draws aimless patterns.  Grains of yourself stick to this far readier than the others, regardless whether they be damp or dry.  If the figure responsible for these whorls and swoops so quickly erased by the tides finds such accumulations irksome, the rhythmic kicking of their feet and slapping of their opposite palm belies no bother.  You already anticipate the pad of larger, softer feet rushing in to drag this figure up to less wave-besotted heights. For now, the hands of the rescuer merely content themselves at your backshore, seemingly preoccupied with the shuffle and count of... pebbles? Yes, that seems right.

One typical visitor, the tiny feet with a dragging ringlet about them, is not here today.  While you only truly detect them when they stand far from the others and kick about in something like a brief, private dance, you feel some disappointment at their absence.  Thankfully, it passes quickly, as it always must and does.  The others provide so much stimulation on their own.

So the seconds and minutes and hours pass.  A longer visit, then, perhaps the gathering making a whole day on your shores. Indeed you do lose feeling on the unsteady one and their weight until their brief business with the larger builder, and indeed the body in the surf is dragged away only to totter back and resume their doodling before the seafoam several times over.  As happens about half the time, the smaller hands’ instincts win over the larger, and you feel the contours of a castle rise above your surface, holes poked for windows and something you can only presume is a stick serving as flag jammed in the apex.  These expected repetitions on established patterns are just so delightful as the rare breaks.

The feet which plod to rescue the doodler eventually drag them only a little ways from the waves, to a wet but not actively drenched height, and begin tracings in their own hand, purposeful strokes diagramming something too complicated to understand through the lessened yet still present haze.  The weight’s companion drags it a little closer, and spends some minutes flecking individual grains which linger from the earlier assault.  The castle is not scattered to the wind with a sudden, forceful kick, but remains standing as hands mismatched in size rest upon your surface, shifting and occasionally squeezing in a manner indicative they now hold one another.  At one point, you swear there is the impression of a dainty step at the furthest extreme you can sense, before the presence is gone, leaving only the lightest footprint.

You do wonder from time to time about the prints these visitors leave in their wake.  Difficult to judge though scale and weight remain in this amorphous existence, rough estimation of such rules out their identity as adults.  They do not sink and disperse near so large a surface area as even the lightest full-grown frame.  Children, then, only they seem too light and small for even this hypothesis.  Birds, crabs, seaside mammals, insects, all ruled out, for they march and hop and scuttle across your expanse when your mind goes away, leaving all manner of traces to observe and contemplate on waking, and (excepting the scribblings) the actions of your visitors are too purposeful for wildlife besides.  Quite perplexing.

Especially in view of the one answer you’ve entertained as reasonably possible, best backed by evidence. Every now and again, one or the other will flop bodily upon the sands, splay their limbs wide, and make something like a sand angel.  On these occasions, you sense them fully as possible - the immersion for burial in the sand results in too too much wriggling for clarity - and by all instances compared and categorized, you can only describe the basic shape in combination with the shallow treads and small profiles as one belonging to a doll.  A wide variety of dolls, true, occasionally something larger and floppier suggestive of a stuffed animal, but dolls all the same.

Toys.  Ambulatory toys visiting the beach of you, summoning you from slumber for the duration of their visit.  The mind would reject the notion as lunatic, were the mind not itself the amalgamated thoughts of dispersed silica.  The mind has rejected the notion, regarding it as some manner of horrid fever dream, then a manner of ironic hell, and then a simple fact of life, no more remarkable than the sloughing waves and pecking birds and shining sun.  Your suppositions on the similarities between your mind as it is now and the gray matter which powers the animal engine already turn on postulations of quantities unknown to science at present.  What are living toys but an unexamined aspect of the tapestry yet cataloged by any beyond you?

Besides, there is pleasantry in their presence, a comforting familiarity of the like upon the like.  You cannot strictly feel as a nervous system would process and report stimulation, merely sense depressions and removals and shiftings of your grains, extrapolating the shape and mass and basic texture from context clues.  Despite this, when the pair who build sandcastles gather and mold you for a parapet, when the clumsy hands take on surprising gentleness flicking stray grains from their fellow, when soft, near-formless limbs almost form a “D” seconds before the surf crests, you come ever so close to truly, legitimately feeling the molded plastic warmed by weak midday sun, the slight tingle of an electronic under battery power, stitchings of corduroy and terrycloth.  They are a diverse lot, in composition and interest, and you experience a stronger spark of life than any you have known beneath their idle play.

Actually… would that not be something?  They and theirs are the ones who summon your conscious mind to whatever forefront you possess.  Always toys, always engaged in diversions and amusements and games. Playing in the sand, as it were.  Could very well be they uintentionally make you real when they play, and when they finish and retreat to whatever homes they have beyond the beach, you sink and sleep.  You had not thought of such until now.  Something to think on, when next the time comes round.

For indeed, you sense from their stirring today’s visit draws to an end.  The plush drawers toddle from the shoreline, the last grains are flecked from the weight as it is lifted from its hole, the air around the castle whooshes in a telltale giveaway someone aimed one last attempted kick towards its walls.  So it goes, so it goes.  You hope they drew some pleasure from this visit in equal measure to your own.  If there is anything a stretch of beach must keep in mind, it is appreciation of what experiences one gains within the necessary impermanence of things.

This last thought threatens a scatter of questions in your mind at so late an hour, an annoying instinct likely triggered by pointed awareness of approaching dark and quiet.  From whence do these toyfolk hail, your mind babbles.  Are they mere animate playthings, or does something human lurk in their hollow and stuffed heads, as it must for you?  The verbosity and scientific curiosity of your own thoughts does not escape you, however malformed or incorrect certain details might prove, so while you cannot actively recall any time when you held a shape other than this, you feel strongly at times there must have been some period when you stood humanoid.  Why this transformation?  Was there some sin to deserve this, some request to deeper understand the earth itself, a mere dream of humanity by some sand with an overactive imagination? Are they similarly cursed, their souls befouled regardless your innocent interactions? Is there any way to manipulate your sands, let them know you are here, speak with someone, finally talk after who knows how many ages' silence?  Who what when where why how pounding and drumming and hammering and…

…and gone.  As the man said, the secret is in letting go.  Should a thought trouble or hurt, allow its passing and move on to the next.  And the next, and the next, and the next, like firing neurons or counting grains on an endless beach. Health in stillness, tranquility in silence…

Maybe... on next wakings... think about the wind... and whether its touch counts... as play...

They are nearly gone now, your time of rest in void almost upon you.  Normally, by this stage, you have shrunk back to a single grain, lingered for a moment, and then been no more.  Something tethers you longer than expected.  Through a tiring, diminishing mind, clouded and craving rest, you cast out in your final seconds, seeking some cause.  This is no painful thought, just a last little thing before…

Ah.  There.  Funny, that.  One of the dolls.  A single grain of sand.  Caught in their shoe.  Rocking about after too many scrapes against plastic, as she tries to shake it loose.  This, too, must be play of a kind.

What’s in a grain of sand?  What’s a grain of sand in?  Hah.

There it goes.  And now… goodb

.  .   .         . .  . . . .  .  . . . .        . . . . .    .  . .    . .  .   .     .  .  .     . .. ….  . . .… …….. .. .. ..  .. . . . . . . . . . . . .  . . . ...... .. . .. . . . . ..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ...

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

OOOOO Nsfw abc for Ebenezer Scrooge 👁️👁️

The things I would do to this man-

Art is not mine! I got it from Pinterest!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Ebenezer always has water and towels on hand, whether you clean him up or he cleans you up, he doesn’t care as long as he can hold you after. He’s always ready to tend to your every need, and he only asks that when he’s been the more submissive one you tend to his.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ebenezer strikes me as a chest man, I can’t explain why, but he does. He doesn’t care how big or how small your chest is, how perky or how droopy your chest is, he will hyperfixate on it. (Ebenezer is probably into breast worship if I’m honest.)

As for his favorite body part on himself, he likes his hands, they’re large with long fingers and he finds it adorable how they completely cover your own. Plus he loves to finger you, working you open to drive you to an orgasm, or even just to prep you, but the sight of his fingers pumping in and out of you is mesmerizing to him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Of course, his favorite place to cum is inside you, but if not there, Ebenezer prefers to cum on your chest. His cum is more of a watery texture with a more cream color, he also cums an average amount. As for where he prefers for you to cum, he likes having your cum in his mouth, or for you to orgasm on his cock.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Once, when Ebenezer was over at your living space, he swiped your toothbrush. He knows he shouldn’t have, he does! But, the thought of getting to have something that you had put in your mouth numerous times was to good to pass up! When Ebenezer gets home that night, he immediately takes your toothbrush from his pocket and hastily shoves it into his mouth, moaning as he strips down. I’m sure you know what this all leads to.

He’s also had fantasies of eating you out under his desk while you deal with a client, teasing him with the tip of your shoe and muffling his moans between your thighs.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Ebenezer knows how to kiss and such, as he was in a relationship previously, but it was common at the time to wait for sex until marriage, and considering Ebenezer was never married, he most likely is a virgin.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Ebenezer tends to default to missionary when he’s doming, but if you’re holding the reins that night, he likes cowgirl.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Ebenezer is usually more serious than anything, but he also know that humorous things are bound to happen at some point, and he’s pretty good natured about it. Who knows, he may even let a chuckle slip past his lips.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s trimmed, but not clean shaven. The last time Ebenezer tried to shave, he got an ingrown hair and it traumatized him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

A total romantic, like something you would see in a movie. He wants you to feel so overwhelmed with love that you’re near tears! And don’t tell anyone, but he loves it when you do the same to him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Ebenezee masturbates at least once a week, unless you’re there to take care of him. Usually he goes for two rounds before he decides that it’s enough and goes to sleep.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Both praise and degradation kink(receiving): Ebenezer loves to be told how good he’s making you feel, how he’s such a good boy, but he also likes to be told what a good little whore he is for you.

Praise kink(giving): As much as he likes to be praised, Ebenezer loves to smother you with compliments and words of affirmation even more so. It makes him feel good to make you feel good.

Bondage(receiving): while Ebenezer isn’t necessarily into heavy bondage, he does like to have his hands tied with a silk ribbon of your choosing. He likes the way the desperation to touch you makes him feel, and when he’s finally rewarded with your touch, he just about cums on the spot.

Overstimulation and edging(receiving): it may surprise you, but Ebenezer like to receive these as punishments if he hasn’t obeyed you as he should. Something about the way you control how much he cums, if at all, makes him drool.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers to make love in his bedroom, but like I stated previously, it’s a big fantasy of his to have you dom him in his own office.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Keep in mind that it’s the Victorian era, so any amount of skin you show is sure to get him hard in five seconds. Other than the obvious physical turn ons, one of the things that really drives Ebenezer wild is pulling him by his tie, whether that be to bring him down to your level or to simply get him to go in a specific direction. Another turn on is you dirty talking him or making subtle threats to him in public, so that only he can hear.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Ebenezer refuses to degrade you, or hit you in anyway, shape, or form. He’s also not to keen on breath play for either party.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Definitely prefers to give more than receive. Ebenezer loves to feel you spasm around his tongue, and his high nose ridge is just perfect for your clit to grind on, he thinks. Speaking of your clit, this is Victorian England, you’re going to have to show Ebenezer where it’s at as well as explain to him what it is. Once he knows, however, he’ll always focus his attention to that area.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Ebenezer LOVES it when you’re rough with him, unless he’s had a bad day, then he’ll want you to be soft and gentle with him. When he’s the one in charge he’s a service dom, and even then he’s extremely soft with you, so he’ll always take his time and be gentle with you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Ebenezer is not really a fan of quickies for himself because he usually finds himself needing to be wrapped in your arms for longer than what his schedule might allow, but if you’re in the mood and you’re both short on time, he’s more than happy to go down on you for a round or two.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

I think the riskiest thing Ebenezer would ever do would be to pleasure you under his desk while you deal with a client, but he’s not one to risk or experiment if there’s the chance one of you could get hurt.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Ebenezer lasts a little bit less than a normal male for his age, only because he’s so inexperienced that every little touch of yours quickly becomes overwhelming. Usually he can go for about three rounds before absolutely needing to take a break.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Ebenezer doesn’t own toys for himself, but once he meets you, he may buy a few to try on you out of curiosity. But once you actually begin to use them on yourself, he can’t help but find the sight extremely arousing. (He can probably be swayed to let you peg him, and once you do he finds himself in love with it.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ebenezer doesn’t like to tease you, because pleasure dom, but when you’re in charge he loves it when you tease him! It just gets him so worked up that he cums almost as soon as you begin to actually fuck him.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Ebenezer whimpers, there is no way around it. He also moans, and on rare occasions he will full on sob with tears in his eyes. Ebenezer is pretty loud, so usually you have to shut him up, if the situation calls for it, by putting a body part of your choosing into his mouth.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I feel like Ebenezer may have a free use kink, meaning that you can fuck him like he’s a human sex toy and use him strictly for your pleasure anytime you want. He just wants to make you feel good, and getting rid of all of your stress from the day by being your obedient little toy sounds to delicious to pass up.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Ebenezer is about six and a half inches long hard, and about three inches flaccid. His dick has a permanently pink tint to it, and when he’s hard it flushes to the point of being near purple (especially if he’s been being teased). I feel like he’s uncircumcised, and he has a more pronounced mushroom shaped tip than normal.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Usually he ends up needing to be fucked about three times a week, but occasionally more depending on how stressed out he is. If he goes to long being sexually frustrated, you could actually unlock his more bratty side, so it’s up to you if you want to become a brat tamer for a spell. (Ebenezer probably enjoys being put in his place more than he lets on.)

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

No matter what, Ebenezer always makes sure you fall asleep first before succumbing to slumber quickly after you. He finds your deep breathing comforting, as well as the knowledge you’ll stay with him.

Hope you enjoyed, lovely!!! Sorry this took so long!!

[ask-a-rare-person]

How can I learn more about AMPS?

Ask your local amps person!

But first, ask permission first. This is very important because the more you think about amps, the worse it typically gets. Some amps people may avoid conversations like this unless apsolutly necessary. Some people, like me, enjoy talking about it!

Read Healing Back Pain by Dr Sarno.

It was written in the 90s, before AMPS was classified or understood specifically. This book is not amps-specific, as it actually describes a very average body-mind response. However, it is integral to understanding AMPS because it presents itself in us much more severely.

There have been many critisms about Sarno, specifically that he did not do any studies and his evidence is anecdotal. However, it completely revolutionized how I thought about my pain and it helped me insurmountably.

Burning nights CPRS support

Complex regional pain syndrome, aka CPRS is a regional form of AMPS! Burning nights is a webcite that, along with being a charity for CPRS, also provides information about the disorder.

Follow AMPS focused blogs and social media tags

I don’t know any other amps blogs than @amplified-pain-culture-is. There is a blog called @amplifiedpain but it has been inactive since 2020. This blog is focused around my disorders, including amps, and so is my main @epic-sorcerer.

#amplified pain and #amplified musculoskeletal pain syndrome are the main tags for amps. But general disability tags that encompass amps would be #chronic pain #chronic illness, #spoonie, etc

Getting involved in this way is importent because it shows the real human experience of amps, beyond just a list of symptoms and scientific explanations. If I’m being totally honest, memes are probably the best way to deeply understand a group of people because they are specifically meant to be relateble and make obervations taht might not be immediately obvious about amps.

[musicalmoritz]

On average how long does it take you to write a fic? I see you post pretty often on ao3 so I was just wondering if you had any tips to write faster? you make it seem so effortless lol/pos

I must confess, I’ve been procrastinating on finishing a fic for a few weeks now…nonetheless I do have some tips!

So the brutal truth here is that when I really want to get something written I don’t sleep LMAO. Usually I’ll stay up until 4:00 AM writing, but I haven’t been able to do that lately because I’ve been trying to prioritize a healthy sleep schedule. It’s better to start writing early so you don’t stay up half the night, that can actually make things more difficult as after a certain hour your brain will just shut off (at least that’s what happens for me)

The length it takes me to write a fic depends on the type of fic, if it’s 3-4K I can usually knock it out in a day or two, unless I’ve been putting it off. If it’s 9-12k it takes me a couple of days, though I have written fics that length in one sitting before. Again, I do crazy work between the hours of 8:00 PM and 4:00 AM. If it’s anything near 20k it usually takes me a few months, especially if I have a lot going on irl at the time. My longest fic was 52k and I pretty much wrote that through the winter. Right now I’m working on one that’s meant to end at around 15k and I already have 12k of it written, but I ramble so it might come out a bit longer

Okay now onto actual productive tips. In my experience, the best way to write a lot is literally just to spill all your thoughts onto the page. Yap like your life depends on it. If I’m writing the character experiencing something I have a lot of opinions on, I’ll spend several paragraphs just talking about that. Some of my best and longest fics come from me straight up venting into a Google Doc. It’s like a diary except no one can tell how much is the character’s pov and how much is me working out my own problems. If you think you ranted too much, you can always go back and delete some later

It’s also good to try and always be writing. One of my Mitsukou fics was written almost entirely between breaks at work. I bring my computer with me if I’m going somewhere over night. I’ll write while I’m waiting for a class to start, and in between classes- especially if I have a long break. I write a paragraph or two on the toilet sometimes. And also be thinking about the characters a lot, I’m hyperfixated on tbhk rn so these little losers are always on my mind; so when I sit down to write, I’ve already written most of the fic in my head. Share your own headcanons and analysis, people love reading that stuff. Don’t be afraid to get creative and take a few liberties, most readers are subconsciously longing for new things in their fics

Also don’t stress yourself out too much about what you post! Fanfic is best when it’s written for your own enjoyment above anyone else’s. Sometimes I get too caught up in what other people will think of my fics and forget I have total control over everything I write. If you worry too much about making your work “perfect,” you’ll never want to write. Make yourself your main target audience, it makes the process way more fun

I hope some of this helped you!! Thank you for your ask, this gave me the motivation to work on my wip. I’m also currently writing fics for every day of Aoinene Week so it’s been busy. A good fic playlist also helps, it helps you better envision the world you’re writing. Recently I’ve been basing my fics off specific music artists which gets me really invested. Happy writing :)

[moodymisty]

I remember you talking about this a while ago and I wanted to add my opinion on it. I think the reason why people tag x reader fanfictions as “dubcon” despite it being very obviously a noncon plot is actually because you, the reader, are metatextually consenting to it by reading the fic. So even if you in the written work are totally against this being done to you, you in real life clicked on the “oh no stop that I don’t want that~” fic with the intent to read about how blorbo of the week dicks you down criminal style.

And you could say that I’m assuming that most dubcon/noncon x reader fanfiction is centered around the reader being the victim. But from my experience that’s a pretty accurate assumption, in all my time on the internet I’ve only found one fic where the reader was the perpetrator. So I think that’s because these types of fanfiction are more thought exercises than anything else, because in this fandom the average hot guy is someone like Evilman Killperson who’s an evil man that loves killing people. And there’s really no way to depict having consensual sex with him unless the reader is also morally corrupt and/or an asshat, and most people don’t enjoy self insert fiction where they’re depicted as kind of a loser.

So a fic where Evilman Killperson takes an interest in poor innocent you and decides to forcefully devil’s tango about it is, in-universe, non consensual. But in real life you fully agreed to read about it because Evilman’s boobs are the size of your pillow and you find that super hot, which would make it dubcon. It’s essentially desiring someone but not wanting to be complicit in their grimdark actions.

Like, the Emperor is a fascist imperialist whose biggest hobby is eugenics, he’s a horrible dad, terrible friend, and an awful ruler. Having consensual sex with him implies that you’re fully okay with all of these things. … but non consensual sex?? Well that’s an entirely different story, if he steals you away to forcibly romance you then you can enjoy his soft hair, sexy bod, and striking gold eyes without feeling any guilt about it! Which again, makes it metatextually dubcon. Like do you see what I mean?

bold of you to assume i'm using the dubcon/noncon tag to justify my simping, it's just my kink to get bodyslammed.

/joking it is interesting how the whole 'getting kidnapped/torn away is used in so many mediums by women to allow them to enjoy things without a sense of guilt. it's existed in bodice ripper novels for years, classic pirate steals a housewife type stuff.

[persephoneandherhades]

I cant emphasize this enough. IF YOU THINK AT ALL EVER THAT YOU MIGHT MAYBE HAVE SLEEP APNEA, GET TESTED.

I have been dealing with sleep issues for so many years, at least since my early teens. I legitimately thought it was just depression fucking with me. And yeah depression played its part. However as i found out several months ago, it was far from the only reason. I snore, all night and very loudly. Someone told me that if you snore really loudly you might have sleep apnea so i talked to my doctor about it. I wasnt totally convinced so we did a take home pulseox monitor test to see if my readings over night might indicate if it was possible. It was very much possible. I am now convinced so i agree to an overnight sleep study in the hospital. the whole shabang. They put electrodes or whatever all over my body and i slept. I got up, checked out. They said ur doc will be in touch with your results and sent me on my way.

In my personal experience, nothing in the medical world works quickly unless death is on the line and sometimes not even then. So i was more than a little surprised and concerned when i got a call from the sleep doctor's office affiliated with the hospital i was tested at only a few hours later. They scheduled me an appointment to come in and discuss next steps and the appointment was so soon, i knew they squeezed me in because no doctors in my area have availability that quickly. I go to the appointment and im very nervous and this very concerned woman started explaining more about sleep apnea and my results.

The average adult stops breathing 3-5 times a night. I stopped breathing 117 times in 1 HOUR.

Do you know what its like to be told you are basically fighting for your life in your sleep every night? Its TERRIFYING. This poor woman was horrified on my behalf and ordered a cpap machine for me. Unfortunately due to the supply chain issues, cpap machines had months long wait list. So when i was laid off work a month later causing me to loose my health insurance, i wasnt even close to getting a machine. So i get a new job and wait the 3 months to get insurance and start the process of finding doctors that my new insurance will cover. So now 5 months after my sleep study i am sitting in another sleep doctors office. I hand this man the papers detailing my sleep study and watch the blood drain from his face while he reads.

If you have never scared a doctor before I wouldn't recommend it.

This poor man sees that i have been waiting to get a cpap machine for 5 months and puts in the order for one. While he is putting in the order he is trying very hard to be casual while asking me questions that boil down to how the fuck do function normally? How can you drive a car without falling asleep at the wheel? I then have to admit that i have been compensating for extreme exhaustion since i was a teenager so its all very normal for me now. I thank him for his time and go about my day.

This doctor let me know that the wait for a cpap now is about 3 weeks so im already happy, like that is sooo much shorter than it was 5 months ago. He says the home health equipment office will call me when my machine comes in.

I got the call from the home health office that same day. Turns out i horrified that sleep doctor so much that he put a rush on my cpap order so i got bumped to the front of the list. I had my machine 2 days later.

I have had this thing for 3 weeks now and i cant describe how amazing i feel. I am used to waking up at least a dozen times a night, now its only once or twice. Im used to having trouble keeping my eyes open long enough to turn off my alarm clock in the morning and i am used to making myself keep moving so i dont instantly fall back asleep. Now i am awake and alert when my alarm goes off. I dont wake up already exhausted anymore. I learned early in my driving life that i have to listen to audiobooks in the car to keep my mind engaged enough to not start to fall asleep at the wheel. For the first time in years i was able to just listen to music in the car and not start nodding off. I haven't needed to take a nap after work even once.

I have been told that i might not notice changes until after the first month with the machine so i am so excited about what else might change because of this machine. I cried actual tears the other day because of it.

It has already changed my day to day life significantly. The machine is so small for the miracle it has already given me. I cant even hear it when its on. I have a fan on at night and the machine is quieter than my fan.

Getting tested is so so worth it. The benefit to your life could be so significant.

I have other things that i need to take care of for my health but taking care of this one has made it easier to work on the others.

If you think you might have it, get tested.

[capriciouscaprine]

good morning!!!!! I had good number news this morning!!! lotsssss of numbers below, just fyi

I haven't really talked about my goals or current numbers on here, in part bc I was worried that if that was one of the first things I posted, whatever flagging bot gets used on here (I know, it's mostly crusaders who go thru the tags and mass repo blogs that gets us distapeared) would see those things and I'd be on their no-fly list immediately

plus, there's something to be said for the fear of saying something out loud, when I've not been the sort of person to stick to hobbies and things before

BUT

last week, I hit a goal of $125.4 (iirc), which means I hit a simultaneous goal of a 'healthy' -$5/month for 15 months straight, for a total of -$75.00 from my starting balance of $200.00

which, I honestly was having trouble being excited about hitting that goal bc of our common habit of rounding up, so any decimals next to that number it feel like I hadn't actually hit it, and I had worked REALLY HARD to get there, including a multi-mile treadmill walk and everything

BUT

my check in day is monday (start the week off informed!); on tuesday the monthly obnoxiousness started, and most of us who experience that will skip check in days that are close to it bc it messes with our bodies so much, so our measurements will be inaccurate

then, last week was spring break for my internship, but it's only two days a week, so I spent two days last week almost entirely sitting at my computer, working on my course work

meanwhile, in the same week, I clocked THEE MOST hours at my almost entirely outdoor, moderately physical job in about six months aka since about mid-fall, as late fall thru early spring is our slow season and things are now picking back up; I spent the week planting seedlings, repairing fences, running around after babies, and doing deeper cleaning now that things are warmer and deep bedding isn't so much of a priority

which, I spent last summer consistently dropping without thinking too much about it, tbh, and I'm pretty sure now that it's bc of this job (there was other stuff like switching from regular ice cream to halo top, etc, but on the whole I wasn't doing things like counting and I hadn't even made this blog yet)

and for meals this week, I seemed to average just about 1k; some days were higher and others were lower, some days I felt like an unwilling black hole and others I was just... fine after eating a small lunch/dinner (I keep weird hours, it was the final meal of the day for me, idk); plus, no semi-fraught Easter lunch with my family

SO

that brings us to today's check in

$123.2

officially, for realsies, under that $125.00 goal, and also the amount I claimed on my drivers license bc I thought it was funny and it was only a little lower than my actual amount BEFORE UNIVERSITY, AND very genuinely really close to a secret goal I've had since I heard it as a song lyric in 11th grade: $120.00

I know, it's such a silly thing to base a goal off of, and really highlights just how pervasive unrealistic body standards are, that some man stated it as the measure of a fictional grown woman he was writing about who you KNOW he envisioned as being 'curvy' and taller than a literal child

but I'm still gonna hit it

and yep, I'm once of those people who have reduced their goals over time; you think a number sounds really low, and then you find out how much people who look the way you want to measure in at, and realize that if that's where you wanna be, this number isn't going to have you looking like that unless it's mostly muscle, and I'm for sure not mostly muscle

anyways, introspection on societal pressures out of the way, this morning's breakfast was a 1/3 of a cup of egg substitute (50), two low f 'canadian bacon' slices (20 each for 40 together), a slice of lite toast (45) with lite country crock spread (about 1/2 a tblsp, so half of 35), and my coffee (25), so that's a relatively high f and protein breakfast for just under 200 (and of course we round up to the bigger whole number!)

I was hoping to feel satiated from that, but it's not quite hitting like yesterday's grilled cheese did; ah, well, just one more data point to take note of!

now, fingers crossed I can finish this presentation before work this morning!!!

[mrsfezziwig]

Joe-ver, Traylor & Condescension

I know how I reacted to the news that Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn had broken up because a fellow Swiftie I am close friends with via FB - I am housebound - gave me the 'terrible' news. Dissolving into fits of laughter apparently wasn't the reaction I should have had; whilst the rest of Swiftville collectively used sobbing emojis in tweets, Facebook status updates, Instagram posts and comments, I was among the few who were marvelling at the fact it managed to last six years at all. I was among those who were avoiding saying 'I told you so' by duct-taping our mouths closed.

Apparently it is morally reprehensible to speak ill of the dead, and Joe's career may as well dead as a door nail now he only has his... skills to fall back on. No one can ever convince me that this man got the roles he did because of his talent alone. Even if he was told that his almost god-tier performance in audition was what got him the role, directors and casting agents aren't stupid. Being linked to the whirlwind force that is Taylor Swift means that her immensely supportive fans will support those she loves, equalling higher ratings and more cash. Oh, and it would make doors firmly shut to these directors and producers before magically swing open with a 'tada' and jazz hands. But of course it was alllll Joe, it was no one else but Joe that pushed him into suddenly getting the role he went for each time. Yes, I am being condescending, but the reason I have been so purposefully scathing is having had the pleasure of working with this man pre-Taylor. I wasn't yet debilitated by my medical condition and my in-real-life best friend was working on the wardrobe for a show which Joe was in. She needed help with understanding knitting and other 'lady-like' skills, which I have experience with from the age of seven. My opinion of the man is formed from seeing his interpersonal connections and just how pompous he was then.

After the initial wave of 'oh no' and 'this can't be happening', the tide swept away the sand-like haze the fandom had been in and left bare the truth that everyone failed to see sooner. Joe thought Taylor was beneath him in terms of her craft. She wrote songs to go on albums that are insanely popular but also effete, passing fads and fripperies compared to 'real' artsy music. These song were dumb, unless he was in the credits because money doesn't matter; in his head he is a modern version of a 1920s bohemian who lives in a tiny studio surrounded by easels and clay, earning a pittance and drinking with friends every night as they discuss intellectual things the majority of people can't even pronounce.

Suddenly Swiftville filled with pauses then began to whisper about how Joe really treated Taylor, how his demands for a total blackout in terms of speaking about the relationship were kind of controlling, and that he liked living in the enormous apartment that Taylor rented in London, he just didn't want to be known as 'Taylor Swift's Boyfriend' like it's a disease.

I understand wanting privacy in a relationship but if became obvious quickly that Alwyn wanted to live like he was the star with an average everyday girlfriend who basked in his light, not the other way around. Sure, that privacy was perfect for the time they got together, Taylor was at her very lowest mentally and they were cocooned together, where he can imagine himself as the star like he desired. The pandemic didn't help when it came to being in that cocoon again. I genuinely and passionately believe the relationship would have ended after the Lovefest Tour, or even whilst she was actively touring but it would have been kept secret. A split from the person she wrote almost all of Lover about in the middle of promotion would have been tough to manage in terms of PR. Tree is an absolute wizard when it comes to that but she can't perform miracles!

The Midnights album and tour played a huge part in the break up, or the final, no going back break up as there were a few others according to what various sources have said. In addition I don't believe it was amicable at all, it was protracted and painful, particularly now we know 'You're Losing Me' was written in late 2021! My instincts tingle that they were over in late 2022, but Joe attended the Grammy after party to keep the ruse going for a while, although the why of this part I can't put together sensibly.

As the fuss of Ratty Healy fizzled out (what the fuck were you thinking Taylor?) and The Eras Tour continued on, a new beau appearead in Travis Kelce and it is where I begin to loathe some parts of the fandom. Just as Joe was condescending towards Taylor, her 'fans' are now being condescending to Travis, and that is never fair until you get to know more about them. If whoever is on Ms Swift's arm is a dick, we can call it out but so far, based purely on his podcast with brother Jason, he is a deeply genuine, generous, honest man.

As a time out I would like to look at why I think Taylor and Travis are great for one another, which is obviously only my opinion, this entire essay being based on those and a few podcast episodes, an NFL game I had to dig around on my TV package to find and which I understood literally nothing more of than that the grass was green and Travis was playing... Off I go-

This man is unashamedly himself. There's nothing hiding, he's not pretending the dorky side of him doesn't exist, he has embraced it for millions to see for years and years. He made a fucking friendship bracelet for her. This tall, strong NFL guy sat down and threaded tiny beads onto string with his phone number on. I mean... please? That's some of the cutest shit I have ever heard and probably just bumped my high expectations in what I want in a man into near impossible levels.

Travis is confident and comfortable in his own skin, there's no feeling inferior, he is already successful, in a career that does not sit in the arts sphere so he doesn't need to be Taylor Swift's Boyfriend to get parts in films or sell albums. I also noticed when he waited for Taylor to come off stage in Argentina, he kept his hands behind his back to ensure Taylor was the one in control of the PDA level. She could indicate what she wanted by reaching for his hand or, as we saw, run up to him and throw her arms around him. The mental image of the sequin purple dress as Taylor ran to Joe could practically be a copy paste of this but the second time around there was no hiding under the brim of his baseball cap like he was ashamed to be seen with someone who has mass market appeal. He was there in a shirt so unique he couldn't be misidentified by even an ET.

Now I want to move onto something more serious, something that I cannot believe Swifties considered acceptable to do: dig around in twitter and find tweets 12 years old with misspellings even though it is common knowledge that Travis is Dyslexic!

They dragged a man with dyslexia because his old tweets were misspelled. It was all a joke, of course (/s), but it isn't and shouldn't be, because it was Swifties looking at the tweets, creating a spiderweb thin veneer of being humorous whilst, consciously or unconsciously, thinking Taylor is too good for him because of it. They were trying to make it look like Travis was the dumb jock student who barely breathed near a book his whole life and Taylor the intellectual who uses big words in her songs that he could never understand. In what world is it okay to point out how her past boyfriends looked down on her only to do the same to Travis? This has truly pissed me off.

Oh, how I wish it stopped there but it doesn't. As the news got out of the budding relationship, more than one Swift 'news channel' said she was having a 'himbo' moment. A Himbo moment... How much more degrading can you get? They may as well have been blatant, not cowardly, hiding behind buzzwords and have said:

"He plays in the NFL? Urgh that is so puke, everyone knows those players don't have a decent braincell in their heads! This break up with Joe really hit her hard, Travis has to be a rebound, she couldn't possibly like this guy."

Well, it doesn't take much to find out that actually, Travis has a Bachelors Degree in Interdisciplinary Studies. He didn't have a need to complete his credits, his place with the Kansas City Chiefs is secure, but he still persevered, kept studying despite his difficulties with reading and writing and graduated in 2022. That's not even remotely easy and certainly doesn't make him intellectually beneath Taylor at all.

Another thing I saw and heard more than once was that Taylor looked bored at the Kansas game she attended, unable to understand what she watching and simply doing what others did to hide it. This was the 'first date' for them and she spent it with his parents, who, shockingly wanted to be there to support their son as they always did, in a private box. So much about this is stupid to the point I think these Swifties need to learn a lesson in humility! It's appalling that they are so arrogant, so indelibly stained with Taylor's genius-by-proxy that anyone or anything that sits outside of what they think she enjoys is only fit to be squashed beneath the queen's high heeled boots. Sound fucking familiar? What is laughable about it is that Taylor herself is incredibly humble and thankful and doesn't paint herself as a genius at all!

Scott Swift is a major, major football fan, a former(?) Philadelphia Eagles stalwart and possible Kansas Chiefs new sign up, therefore it is utterly ridiculous to suggest his daughter didn't pick up on the lingo, rules, statistics and points from hearing holy talk about it. Taylor was very responsive to the game, I found as many videos of her as I could to be sure of it, and there was no waiting around for others to react, she was up there shouting and jumping in all her glory, decked out in that perfect shade of red that suits her so well and following the game.

As for the whole 'mama on the first date' thing? Who are you to assume it's a date? Obviously it wasn't. In fact Travis has clearly stated that he invited her to hang out in his box and see him after the game, not as a date... And of all the videos and pictures I have looked up to try and get this opinion piece to be reasonably accurate, the laughter and smiles between Mama Kelce and Taylor look genuine, not like TayTay is playing a part in a movie as has been suggested by some.

By taking a step back from the stupidity and condescension you can see why they work so well, so here's my reasons for why I believe that:

Family comes first for both and they understand the closeness of a family bonded like that as Taylor's parents are her backbone through all the bullshit.

They are both successful and don't actually need one another. It's a position of equality for them both.

Travis has said in his podcast that the paparazzi are insane but he knows how to handle it. He knows that being with a global superstar comes with negatives but you have to decide if those negatives are manageable for the person in your life and he has decided he can hack it. Head down, hold tight to the hand and just go for whatever door you are aiming for.

As strange as this is about to sound, he's a man. At 6'5" he is just perfect for a woman of Taylor's height, she can still wear her heels and feel feminine beside Travis. He is bigger than her security guards and can take a few knocks if anything goes west.

He's a God-damn gentleman. He opened her door, kept hold of her hand tight so as not to lose her in the kerfuffle of photographers outside the SNL meal they went to and he let her pick her comfort zone in terms of hugs and kisses.

Culture. I mean in terms of holidays, traditions, norms and values. Most of the people she's dated have been British, and although we share much, we can never truly understand what Americans feel about their country. To us the idea of reciting a few words to a flag in the corner of a classroom each morning is very, very, very cult vibed.

Freedom. Sure that sounds weird but I mean it in the sense that Travis is a Swiftie, this man knows how utterly off the wall Taylor can be even before he took his friendship bracelet shot at her, and they complement one another in that sense. No judgement will be coming from this man at all, he'd more likely be the one with her on the dance floor as they moved in crazy ways like no one sees them.

They've agreed on how much they are willing to divulge. He consistently says in post game interviews that although he will openly say that they are dating, he won't say anything more than that without speaking to Taylor first, and it doesn't take Stephen Hawking to realise she'd tell him not to elaborate further. Whenever she's mentioned in the podcast it is usually about the fans, not our Queen directly, such as the Christmas single reaching number one on iTunes.

He. Wants. The. World. To. Know. Isn't that refreshing? From her songs alone anyone can deduce that Taylor enjoys being in love and wants that love shouted from the rooftops, she wants to be acknowledged by her partner. She is able to express this in song whilst her other halves generally haven't or if they have it's been too subtle. Going from being as closed off as Jaylor were, to Travis proudly saying they are together must feel awesome for her.

He likes her acknowledgement right back. If you haven't seen the video of his face and neck going red as Tay changed the lyrics to Karma for him, go find it and then come back and read this again.

With all the love and respect I have for Ms Swift, I pray, beg fate, give offerings to the gods, ask the universe to make this one be it for her. Of all the guys that have gone before there's no one like Travis Kelce in the mix and maybe this is the 1!

P. S. I chose Maroon because it is all said in the first verse...

[shrimplymoray]

HEHEHE TENA im coming in with another bimbovirus scenario request <3 Eri and Cody celebrating her birthday together in the lab, she’s blowing a small cake and making a sweet wish with him!! thank uuuu <3 (happy birthday to me)

HIHI ERI!!! HOPE YOU WAKE UP TO A GREAT DAY SINCE IT IS YA BDAY!!!!

I had wild ideas for this since u asked, but I think I found the perfect one AKA the one I drew for you. By the way, why don't I share that drawing?

Birthday surprise - BimboVirus (and BEN)

It was coming the day, Cody knew it, and that made him nervous. What day? His stupid assistant's birthday. Eri was not the brightest person, by far, but she was still one of the closest person he had, though not by his choice, per say.

Cody had thought of multiple things he could do for her. Maybe actually teaching something, but that was gonna probably cause the 5th lab fire this week, and the fire extinguisher was running low already. He also could try preparing something for her, but his skills on the kitchen were not as good as one would expect. He was running low on ideas each minute that passed, until he remembered the person that was most likely able to help, much to his displeasure.

"So... You came here to ask me for help, huh? What will I get in return?" BEN asked, with his arms crossed and a grin on his face.

"Listen here I am not asking for help, I am asking for advice, fucknuts. You are one of the only person who know her good, since you track her phone. What do you think would be a good birthday gift?" Cody was red from embarrassment of just having to ask BEN of all people.

"She is a bimbo, dude. Anyone with more than two braincells can think of a pink dress to give her. Unless..." The elf boy went closer to Cody, nudging him with his elbow "you like her, dontya big guy? I can help plan a party for her if I can have a piece of cake too."

"WHAT NO I DON'T. YEAH SHE IS CUTE AND KINDA ABOVE AVERAGE STANDARDS ON APPEARANCE AND IS ENTERTAINING AND... oh shit I really like her..." Cody had to hide his face in his hands " fine you get a piece of cake, just help me with this shit."

.

.

.

Eri had gone back to the manor after going out with Nina, Clockwork and Zero to a birthday shopping spree. Though none of the girls shared the same aesthetic, they managed to have fun shopping each time, which always brightened the bimbo girl. She even bought this super adorbs frilly dress that she thought would look good with the lab coat Sir Cody got her.

Talking about it, she needed to get to the lab, she IS Sir Cody's super adorbs assistant, and he probably was having to handle all that brain consuming paper work. It's her birthday, but she needed to work. And maybe Eri really just wanted to be near Cody, but who could say?

When the girl reached the Lab, though, she heard another voice inside. Was Sir Cody doing an experiment on Toby again? No, the voice was different. Sounded like... BEN?

Cody opened the door to find Eri, which lead him on a spiral of thoughts before he mustered. "Finally you're here. I've been waiting for you to show for... Work. All day. I need you to come with your eyes closed. Don't ask questions."

"Oh okay Sir Cody! Did you... Prepare a surprise for little ol' me? Oh sir Cody..." The girl continued to blabber happily with her eyes closed, while Cody carefully guided her to a spot in the lab. He hoped she wouldn't burn everything accidentally this time.

He had to motion for Ben to put stuff at the right place quietly while he guided her to a beautiful cake that Cody bought.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yeah just don't-"

Eri opened her eyes and let an excited happy scream of the lab being totally decorated in pink and with the beautiful pink cake. Omg did sir Cody do all of this for her? Oh and Ben is there too, what is he doing in here?

"... Overreact." Cody sighed "Me and BEN put this little party to you. For your birthday and stuff... And, uh..."

"Oh sir Cody I loved loved it!! Everything looks amazing! Oh i could give you a kiss from how happy I am!!"

Cody almost choked with what she said, and stood his hands up "not necessary."

"Hey, where is my payment for the help, 'Sir Codyyy~'?" BEN mocked, with a shit eating grin. Oh how Cody hated him right now.

"Ugh, fine, I'll cut the cake, let me just do something real quick." Cody, as quickly as he could, gave a kiss to Eri's cheek and but his mask up to hide his blush.

Eri... She was on the clouds and felt as if she was gonna faint from how much blood run to her face. He just... She...

"Dude you are going to kill her this way..."

"Shut the fuck up and get your cake"

"Can I blow the candles first?"

"Oh, uh, sure."

Eri held a deep breath before quickly yelling "I want sir Cody to kiss my cheek again!!" And blowing the candles.

"Oops, I guess now Sir Cody will have to kiss my cheek again..."

"... You have to wish in your head for it to come true, Eri."

Happy bday Eri, love uu/p and hope we will share more BimboVirus content with each other!!!

[freakscircus]

i forget which cuba stories i've told on here, but i'm reflecting and it really was a wild month. i had so much fun but i was also in fight or flight mode the entire time so i feel like the oddity of some experiences is just sinking in. like in cuba if you get your american dollar changed with the state, you will get about 25 pesos per dollar while on the street you can get close to 200, which is a wild discrepancy. and of course you can't just go up to a stranger and ask unless you are trying to get robbed, so you have to know someone who knows someone.

this is why staying in a casa in cuba is the move.... living with a stranger is weird but not knowing and trusting a cuban while in cuba puts you in a very stressful situation. anyway, my sweet dueña helped me problem solve multiple times while i was there. but of course she didn't speak any english whatsoever (nobody did) so i was very thankful i obsessively and anxiously crammed my spanish toward passable fluency before i left.

so she told me she can help me change money with a neighbor, but he can't do less than $500 because it isn't worth it to him. now mind you, my casa stay for the entire month has already been paid for in american dollars, so i need pesos essentially to just eat and make photocopies. spending money in cuba is more challenging than you think when you aren't doing tourist things and just living and working, so i knew immediately there was no way i could spend the equivalent of that much money in a month. for the record, i spent about $250 usd on a month of food and miscellaneous things like post cards so i'm glad i trusted my instincts because once you change into pesos, you cannot change them back. and obviously once you leave the island they are essentially worthless. so i asked her to negotiate for $300.

at this point i have the equivalent of $20usd that i've spent for about three days of food and i'm running out of money. my dueña is off to try and get pesos and nobody in my non-tourist neighborhood is interested in taking american dollars. i walk everywhere because there is no gasoline and very few modes of transportation so i am burning ridiculous calories all day, so i should probably be eating. by day three of no word from my dueña, i wonder if i'm going to starve to death. its the end of day three and i've been eating calorie dense keto bars and i would murder someone for any kind of unprocessed food for dinner. finally my dueña comes home with almost 55,000 pesos for me, which makes me feel ridiculous because that is about the monthly wage of the average state worker.

my skin was so thick in cuba that i look back and i am amazed. the archives were difficult to understand and the ranks were very closed. i got treated so much worse as a foreign researcher, but i honestly fully understood and empathized with why and in turn did not care. some archive workers loved me, others thought i was so stupid i wasn't worth much effort because i didn't inherently understand the complicated way the cuban archival system worked. i walked two hours a day through habana central (which i fell in love with... i loved passing quinta de los molinos every day) and habana vieja, i ate alone at different restaurants every night with a book which i loved, although i felt like a weird foreigner. nothing at all that anyone did bothered me as long as i got research done. truly tunnel vision. i had a wonderful time, but my resilience and patience (which i do not have in america lol) totally shocked me. i hope i get to go back one day. it is so wonderful... as long as you are very patient.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Please, totally ignore this if you feels uncomfortable answering—

Since we are talking about his peen in High Life, can you please share your thoughts on the size of his flaccid peen *blushes*

I’m not trying to compare/shame Ewan’s peen or anythin, on the contrary, I want to know a thing or two about guys’ overall average size, definitely not due to lack of experiences *stare at the ground nervously*

teach me, sensei

I am super flattered you feel comfortable coming to me to ask me this. I'm gonna keep this more generalised, rather than Ewan focused, just so I'm not crossing any lines. Also beneath a cut, so that people aren't forced to engage if they don't want to.

I'm going to preface by saying, please don't take all of your information from Tumblr/smut fics - do your own independent, science based research to ensure you are properly informed on this kind of thing.

The average (erect) penis size in the UK is 5.5 inches - based on Ewan's height and what we can see of him in High Life, he'd easily be around 1.5 to 2 inches above that.

Unless you're from an Islamic or Jewish background, circumcision is not the norm in the UK, so most penises are uncut - as is Ewan's.

Flaccid peen is not generally an indicator of overall size when erect though - some men are at full size when flaccid and just get hard. Others are what's known as "growers" and massively increase in size when they get an erection.

Unless a guy's flaccid cock is literally the size of a bumble bee then it's quite hard to predict size, but you can use things like height and size of hands and feet for an idea - the bigger the man, the bigger the dick generally.

Ewan's height is confirmed by HotD costume designers as 6'0, so safe to assume that what he's packing is pretty big.

I hope I've sated your curiosity a little, but if you have any other questions feel free to hop into my asks.