#what is humanity if not an enormous effort to make stuff

[bread-tab]

i bought a cheap squishy toy and it smells like something i should definitely not be inhaling at all (kind of like gas/petrol but more factory-plasticky? i'm a retail drone not a chemist) and, of course, it was made in china.

("of course" not so much because of the price or quality but because everything is. at every price range and standard, tbh. i'm not trying to say everything made in china sucks. for the tumblr-pedantic record. rip to the workers in the stinky plastic factory though. :/)

so i was like "if this was made in america i could figure out where. we put the company address on everything here. but can i do that with an overseas company?" and the answer is yes maybe (i found the import/middleman companies and there are "trading" websites that track this stuff) but also no because i can't read mandarin. (sorry ancestors)

anyway that's how i find out about this place

yiwu "market" aka "international trade city." alleged "world's largest wholesale market." the mall to end all malls. this place sells stuff to the entire world by the shipping container. didn't even slightly exist in 1980; now does billions of dollars in trade annually which supports a city of 2 million people. which previously was just. like. a farming village.

(btw take this info with a grain of salt *please* i got it from youtube, google and wikipedia and i'm existing in an incredulous sleep-deprived haze)

literally miles of showrooms of every random manufactured item you can imagine. toys, clothes, electronics, household goods, christmas decorations...

i cannot stress enough that we do not have this kind of thing here. (... do we?) but. we have the stuff. this is where all the stuff is from. all roads lead to yiwu, apparently

sometimes you just get reminded... world big. but also. world interconnected. not so small after all. but so connected.

[mamayan]

You up? Give us some delicious yandere stuff 🙏 let's say... Fae King yandere and changeling darling 😏✨

This turned into a full fic :3 ~★ In honor of some monster fucking!

Yandere! Dark Fae King x Darling! Changeling

tw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Non-Human Morality • Kidnapping • afab Reader • Dubcon • Oral (F) • Grooming (reader is of consenting adult age) • Forced Mating • Imprisonment • Violence (not toward reader) • Implied Murder • Rough Sex • Praise • Overstimulation • Dumbification • Belly Bulge • Size Kink

Part Two: Here

“…hic…sniff…”

Dark eyes glanced into the cool night, curious as to what creature was disturbing his evening.

“…hic…” it came again, much to his chagrin.

The still lake reflected the full moon like a mirror. To his left, not too far off, he honed in on the disturber. Something small and curled up. Shaking. The oddity enough to catch his full attention as he stood silently. The night his home and prison as he swiftly left in a puff of smoke over to the location of his intruder.

You.

His first instinct to end your miserable life, a human somehow entering his domain and crossing his barriers, but upon a closer look… he realized you were of his own kind.

A changeling at that. An abandoned fae left to die in the hands of mortals. Few if any live to maturity like this, but your short human stature led him to believe your growth was surely stunted due to neglect. Young fae needed abundant love and care in their infancy, the first 100 years of life incredibly crucial for their development. Least they end up like him and his kingdom. You were even younger than full maturity, though your physical body had completed it’s growth, your magic was weak and juvenile.

You were making odd noises which drew his curiosity, moving closer to your form, face buried in your lap as you hunched over your drawn up legs. Your feet were bare as the edges of the water lapped at them. Clothing sparse and tattered, rags unfit for even a human, let alone a Fae nearing maturity.

“Noisy little thing,” he hums aloud, startling you as you jolt and nearly throw yourself into the water. Your neck snaps up, pretty face swollen and blotchy from tears looking up and up until you saw a creature looming over you.

Your scream is cut off by a clawed dark hand, slapping over your mouth and muffling the cry as you try to jerk away in fear and panic. He watches in mild amusement, snickering as you realize your struggle is futile and efforts dying down. “Scream if you like, but none other than I will hear it out here.” He assures ominously, thin onyx colored lips pulling back to bare his razor sharp canines and pearly teeth at you. His grin savage and delighted in your terror.

He watches curiously as your wide doe eyes well up with tears, the crystalline droplets spilling up and over your cheeks, soft lips quivering beneath his palm. You reminded him of an animal imploring their predator for mercy by revealing their underbelly. There was a word for it…

Cute. His mind conjured at last. He found you cute, a changeling bold enough to intrude into the kingdom of the corrupted. You hadn’t even dropped the mirage covering you, old magic from your biological family still covering your natural appearance to mimic the human you parasitized off the life of.

“Why do you cry little one?” He asks softly, attempting not to terrify you further and avoid his questions.

You hesitate, but his molten gold eyes seem to melt through your defenses despite his dangerous and beautiful appearance. “I’m wrong,” you sniffle, grateful when he removes his enormous hand off your face, the sharp claws tipped in gold frightening against your soft breakable skin. “All wrong… and I don’t know what to do.” You curl back up around yourself, as if he too will cast judgement upon you.

He awkwardly mimics your stance, curiosity blazing as watches you in fascination. You find the way his monstrously large form contorts to sit like you somewhat baffling and amusing, less frightened now that he doesn’t seem to wish you harm.

“How are you wrong then?” He pries further, cupping his defined jaw and leaning into his hand as he observes.

“I’m not…I’m not human—I’m a—a—,” you stumble, unsure if this night is even real anymore. The shock so great you’re still trying to cope.

“A faery?” He supplies, amused by the way you gesture with your hands, expression so open and easy to read. “A changeling raised amongst humans to feed off their happiness?” His deep voice purrs it happily, as if he’s glad for it.

He is. His hatred of humans not something he feels the need to hide.

You appear devastated though, “I didn’t mean to—I don’t want to hurt or make anyone unhappy.” You mumble miserably, tugging at your hair and skin, as if that will dispel the magic which hides your true appearance.

“That’s just how our kind is, we need that happiness to grow properly.” He rubbles, eyeing your shocked expression. “We also happen to be fickle creatures ironically, and if a newborn is thought to need too much care, it is pawned off on humans who have more patience.” He clarifies, smiling as you seem to take him in with new eyes.

“You— are you a faery too? You just seem…” he chuckles as you awkwardly trail off.

“Evil? Centuries ago humans once called me the devil,” he laughs, his dark hair falling into his face like a waterfall as he shakes the loose fluffy curls, his pointed horns jutting from the top of his forehead jet black and smooth like ivory. He was too beautiful to call a devil, though you supposed it could be because of that which he was deemed so. His every feature seeming to catch your gaze with it’s beauty.

“I was going to say different…” you trail off shyly. “You don’t seem evil to me at least.”

He pauses, taking you in again as you regard him with those harmless eyes still wet with drying tears. It’d been centuries too since he’d left his kingdom, the entrance to the veil this lake he occasionally comes up to lounge by. He hasn’t seen a human since then, let alone a changeling or uncorrupted little faery like you.

He likes those pretty tears. He finds it annoying you shed them for humans you should guiltlessly take from.

His smile widens, eyes glittering mischievously and nearly glowing as he leans closer. The smell of sugar and cinnamon wafting off of him as you breathe in, nearly gasping as your mouth waters.

“How’s this little one? I’ll teach you how to be a faery, to show you there is nothing wrong with you.”

His eyes, where they should be white are entirely inky black, golden irises with reddened pupils framed by dark thick lashes, looked sincerely upon you.

He seemed genuine and kind despite his towering humanoid figure which looked to be capable of killing you easily.

It warmed you though, the thought of wanting to belong strong as you nod with a smile.

“I’d be eternally grateful.” You nod.

Sealing your fate.

“Tell me your name.” He asks sweetly, because despite his menacing size and sharp teeth and nails, your new friend was nothing but kind and gentle with you.

“Y/N” you reply easily, letting him playfully ruffle your hair as he picks out the leaves which got tangled in your locks from your travels here.

When he repeats it though, wonderful shivers shoot down your spine. He smiles, cooing at you like one might a baby as a he teases, “Such a cute name for a cute faery.”

You weakly protest, but fall into easy laughter as he swiftly changes the subject.

He was discussing proper fae etiquette. The basics, to not say please or thank you or I’m sorry. They all meant you expected more from the other or wouldn’t reciprocate, and that was just bad manners.

His soft hands, which could easily cover your entire face, were settled on your upper arms, having sat you in the grass against his chest.

He liked holding you close. Your little figure so soft, and from the dark circles beneath your human appearance, he assumed the neglect from the humans you resided amongst was growing worse. It was bad for your development.

“You should come live out here, they are vile creatures you know.” He comments every time you visit, though he never forces you to stay with him.

“It’s because I make them unhappy…” you explain sheepishly.

He shakes his head, thick brow arching as he rolls his eyes. “You are nearly completely mature now, you suck no happiness from your surroundings anymore silly girl.” Your confusion was palpable as he sighs and further explains, enjoying the squish of your tender flesh as he lightly squeezes you.

“While it is true fae infants are quite the hassle to raise, it isn’t as tortuous as humans make it out to be. In fact, most fae will take their child back if not treated well by their human surrogates.”

You hum, relaxing back against his warm chest and breathing in his sugary scent.

“So why wasn’t I—,” you stop short, brows furrowed but no longer speaking.

He doesn’t pry further, leaning his chin atop your head as he looks out at the lake.

“You won’t tell me?” You push, annoyed how he dances around your question endlessly. Your companion close enough that you feel insulted he won’t reveal it.

“My name is not to be uttered aloud, least calamity befall this land~” he’s teasing, you know he is, but still he refuses to divulge his name. “I gave you mine,” you argue again, huffing as he chuckles and lightly shoves you to your back on the grass, leaning over you and caging you in beneath him.

The moon is bright like the first time you’d met, illuminating his other worldly beauty.

“If you wish to call me something, call me Master,” he laughs, his sharp teeth no longer scaring you, but making your thighs squeeze together whenever he flashes them. He acts nothing like an immortal being, too immature and jovial to resemble someone having lived for thousands of years.

“So why do you get my name, but I don’t get yours?” You question in annoyance, avoiding his kiss to your cheek by jerking your face away. He huffs, sharp gaze daring you to dodge again.

You do. Earning yourself a warning nip to your collarbone as you yelp.

“Mean!” You cry, pushing at his chest as he snickers.

“Yes little flower, I am very, very, mean.” He rumbles, chest literally vibrating much like a cat does to purr.

“You give me weird nicknames…” you mutter, giving up as he licks your cheek. You don’t fight it, even as it feels foreign to you, trying to accept this side of your culture.

He licks your neck, lavishing the point where your pulse races with wet kisses and you tremble and struggle to act unaffected beneath him.

His smile is dangerous outside your view.

“Star!” You giggle, his rumble of irritation not the least intimidating to you as you roll away.

“That is an awful nickname.” He hisses, face twisted in disgust as you throw out the most horrendous names you could conjure in your pretty head at him.

“Lumi!” He growls.

“Then… Kitty?” He nearly bites you, careful not to play too roughly as he lightly tackles you down.

“If I give you a nickname, will you cease your little game?” He feels his anger fade as he wraps his arms around your smaller figure, easily pulling you into his lap. You don’t even flinch, too engrossed in your amusement to care where he handles you. You nod happily, your wish finally being fulfilled.

“Very well you stubborn creature,” he chides, “In addition to Master, you may also call me King.”

You frown. Clearly displeased by the lack of intimacy in the name. He laughs, amused by your obvious dislike. He kisses your puffed cheeks, over your pouty lips, and down to your vulnerable neck. Snickering as he goes, adoring how you so easily become pliant for him.

“I am teasing pretty flower, there was a time long ago I was called Ava, will you settle now?” He asks, voice husky as he sucks a mark into your skin, your little whine flaring his desires.

A strong urge to press you down and mate you nearly overpowers his control, but he merely holds you close and breathes your floral scent in to calm himself.

“I still prefer Kitty…” His eye twitches.

“Ava… this feels weird…” he pauses, looking down at your small form still cloaked like a human. Weak beneath him, partially nude as your skirt is pulled up to your soft belly. Your thighs are spread and shaking, his lips sucking another mark onto the thin skin of your inner thigh while you writhe.

He had your wet dripping slit open to the night air and his lustful gaze, begging for his tongue to taste.

“You don’t want to please me?” He asks, purring as you pout but deny. You were such a good little girl for him after all, so eager to learn and soak up his attention.

He resumes, licking down your thigh until his face rested above the warm mound you so sweetly offered him.

“You’re being so good for me petal, can you keep your legs open or should I help you?” He doesn’t need to look up to know you’re shaking in arousal and embarrassment. He can feel the tremors through the air as you struggle to keep your thighs spread as he asked.

“I-I need help…” you admit, feeling terribly hot as he keeps licking you, except where you seem to ache for him to lick.

He easily shifts forward, arms wrapping around you and letting your legs rest over his shoulders as he finally lets his tongue slip out to taste you.

You glance down, choking at the sight and feeling as he lets his entire tongue come out, the appendage inhumanly long and colored purple. It feels strange, the wet slimy feeling of his tongue slithering through your folds, but when he nudges the tiny nub hidden above your slit, you moan.

It sends jolts of electricity through you, hips canting up so he can to lick there again, earning you a hearty chuckle as he obliges. Licking and even curling his tongue around it, riling you up as your tiny hole leaks arousal and drips down your ass to the earth below.

“You’re making a mess petal, do you feel good? Should I stick my tongue inside you this time?” You moan, feeling the muscle prod at your unused vaginal entrance, too hazy to bother responding. He doesn’t wait for your answer, letting the thin tip of his tongue lap and taste your heady desire before poking and wiggling inside you.

It has your legs shooting straight, back arching as he holds you down with one large hand placed over your belly and chest. He groans as he feels the molten texture of your insides struggling against his intrusion, trying to force him out of your tight heat as he surges forward.

The tip of his tongue curls, swirling up and knocking the air from your lungs as a rush of hot liquid spills from your insides for him to drink down.

You shook and twitched, moaning and curling your hands around his curved horns like a handle.

The touch sends blood racing to his cock, as he moans and loudly slurps your cum down with audible squelching, enjoying the cries you released into the quiet night.

He lets you rest as he pulls back for just a moment, your body limp and panting as your high comes down.

“Good girl~” he praises, leaning over you to kiss softly at your sweaty skin, licking that too and tasting the sweet and salty mixture.

Then he’s pressing his lips against yours, forcing them open to sneak his long tongue inside your mouth, filling it and claiming that space too as his own. You’re helpless to resist, delirious on pleasure as he devours you, wiggling muscle curling and rubbing erotically around your own.

He tastes like sugar and something heavier, more musky, as you come to realize it as your own taste.

“Is this… really normal…?” You can help but ask as he pulls away, his lips still sticking close to trail kisses across your skin.

“It’s quite normal little flower, are you shy still?” He asks curiously, lifting one of your small hands and bringing it to his face, his size dwarfing you considerably. He lightly nibbles on your fingers, making a giggle bubble up as you smile and then squirm when he grins and licks your hand instead.

“A little…” you admit honestly. Always so honest and open.

He nods, as if completely understanding.

“That’s alright, we’re in no rush, I’ll teach you slowly…” there’s something else not said in his words, and you’re left drunk on his pheromones and lips as he distracts you. Then he’s kissing down, discarding your clothing and leaving you naked for his mouth and curious fingers.

Your breasts are lavished in his saliva, pebbled nipples sucked until standing upright before poked down with the tip of his tongue playfully. Always so playful, Ava nips and teases your skin, blinking innocently when you moan and glare accusingly.

“It’s not my fault you enjoy this so much petal~” he pouts, looking comical and so harmless, his glittery gold wings, almost translucent behind him, fluttering as if indignant to your silent accusation.

The golden tattoos which marked his skin more visible tonight, his clothing more minimal in his wish to feel more of you as he explores and plays.

Then he’s parting your thighs and throwing you into ecstasy again.

“Who did it?”

You sat curled around yourself, terror and dread swirling inside of you at the new side of Ava you’d never been graced with before.

The side you supposed was reserved for his enemies, but now showed to you.

Despite your fear, the tears spilling down your cheeks, and the injuries you bore, you still remained stubbornly silent.

He was going insane with rage and anguish.

You truly were a flower. So delicate and easily destroyed.

“Y/N… while I am being reasonable…Tell. Me. Who. Did. It.”

For all the times he’d made himself smaller, less alarming and more charming than his true nature called for, it made this time more appallingly. He stood to his full height, like an unwavering tree he did not budge or allow you to leave, golden eyes flaring and mixing with his red pupils to create something alarming. Even the markings which covered his dark skin seemed to glow and match his eyes, magic crackling in the air and silencing the night further.

As if the stars and moon were frightened too.

Still, still, you did not speak, even as he closed in on you, your fear so strong it almost choked him. Almost. He was too angry, too furious with the humans he liked to cast out of his mind. They needed to be taught a lesson it seemed. Their fear of the Fae renewed. They were becoming arrogant, as if their species was even in the same standing as them.

Your pretty injured face and form, battered from abuse and humiliation, was all the information he truly needed.

If you wanted to protect them, and not tell him, then he’d just punish them all as if they were the culprits.

It soothed him finally, his decision made as the ominous energy around him faded slowly. He let his rage dissipate, worry and concern bleeding through now as he crouched and shuffled towards you, claws spread and outstretched towards you.

“Come here Y/N, keep your secrets, but allow me to hold and comfort you…” his eyes darkened, the glow leaving behind almost a copper color, somber as he looks at you. There’s not pity in his eyes though, as you swallow and sigh in relief, grateful to crawl into his warm embrace where it feels safe.

He’s gentle as he wraps you in his arms, lips and tongue soothing as he tastes your tears and blood.

He grits his teeth, focusing on your scent and the feel of you to calm himself again, before letting his magic seep into your skin. You easily absorbed it, soaking it up like a sponge as your pain and injuries heal.

“Ava—?” Your eyes widen, amazement in their depths which stroke his ego as he taps his forehead against your own. His horns slightly tangling in your hair.

“Do you not want to drop the illusion on yourself?” He asks softly, staring at the human image your portray. He didn’t want to admit it, but it enraged him to see you still trying to live amongst them.

You seem surprised, before looking away nervously.

“It just feels strange… to not see myself anymore,” you confess, burrowing deeper into his chest while enjoying his ability to heal and soothe you. His sugary smell lightening your heavy heart.

He nods slowly, eyes staring at nothing over the still lake.

He holds you a little tighter.

Then you’re asleep.

The burns and screams of the people echo, the night come to life with flames and chaos.

Ava stands leisurely, smile filled with fondness as he watches the human village he’d followed and found to be your residence burn.

He’d spent all night playing with them, listening to them confess the awful things they’d done to you, said to you, and tried to do to you. They even thought of sacrificing you to some nonexistent deity, which only prolonged the nightmare he’d turned the populace into.

He laughed as the sounds swirled into music for his ears, the sharp points curling in delight as he hummed a tune older than the trees towering in this forest.

The night was still coming to an end sadly, and he’d need to return to your unconscious body still where he’d left it.

He didn’t want to let you wake in your new home alone after all.

His body covered in the blood of mortals he’d torn into and feasted on, Ava left them to perish.

Alone you woke. In a bed four times the size of any normal one, within the walls of a palace you’d only ever seen depicted in stories told by faraway travelers.

You glanced down, at hands unlike ones you were accustomed to seeing. You were nude, unable to hide from yourself as you felt tears begin to sprout. The illusion magic wasn’t working, and you couldn’t understand why.

This body was your true form, not that of the human you continuously tried to convince yourself you were. You hadn’t showed Ava, too afraid he’d see your appearance and dislike you for it.

While he was magnificent, you felt puny and odd.

A hiss snatches you from your self loathing, eyes flicking up to land on the one you’d just been thinking of.

He was covered in something, though you weren’t entirely sure what until he moved closer. The pearls lining his chambers glowed softly, his appearance more vibrant as he closed the distance between himself and the bed you laid on.

You sucked in a breath, realization dawning as the red contrasts against his skin. His lower face completely smeared in it, but his lips seemed clean. Until he grinned, red stained sharp teeth with chunks of dark meat stuck in between.

You remembered briefly him mentioning being mistaken for a demon.

You finally understood as a strange fear blossomed in your gut and you scooted away. Confusion and terror consuming you, but your body not catching up with your mind, because it recognized his scent and touch. You didn’t move quick enough, a clawed hand easily curling around your ankle and tugging you close. You slid smoothly over the cool silk, brought close to his body radiating heat. He only wore trousers, his taloned feet bare and ankles revealed as he’d cuffed them up to avoid bloody human fingers trying to grip them.

“Oh my little flower, look at you,” his eyes are swirling melted gold, enchanting and so disorienting. His beauty becoming savage with the blood and human flesh he adorned.

“A-Ava…” you want to ask, but you also don’t want the answer.

Did he find out who hurt you? Or was it unrelated? It seemed too coincidental.

Your chest constricted painfully as he stared down at you in wonder. Your true form so lovely it took his breath away, your image so fitting for you it was a wonder why you didn’t prefer this over your human mirage. Your ears, pointed like his own, were curled down a little with your emotions, as his eyes traced your face.

The shape was the same, your body still so small, and your eyes still expressed every little thought without fail.

He hated to admit it was even cuter, though he mused it was likely because he was the first to see your true form.

An abandoned young changeling, one he only took mild interest in, had him so thoroughly ravenous for all of you now.

“Isn’t this more comfortable petal? Instead of masquerading as a filthy human, aren’t you happier to just be you now?” His callous words seem off, but you can’t quite fathom it all as the shock settles in.

“My precious flower faery, are you scared?” Yes, you wanted to scream, as his bloody face and body near you, his sugary scent over powered by the scent of iron and death. Fae hated iron. He shouldn’t be comfortable.

You choked, jerking back and trying to crawl away from him, but he still had your ankle caged in his hand.

He laughs, but it’s empty and devoid of any true humor as he stares down at you with something dark in his gaze.

He yanks you back, harshly and sending a jolt of pain up your leg as you cry out, pulled back beneath him as he crawls onto the bed over you.

He’s too close, nausea consuming you as you smell and see the gore adorning him.

He finds your useless fear amusing and annoying all at once.

“I asked you a question little flower.” He grips your face, smushing your cheeks and making you look at him.

He rolls his eyes as the tears you so love to shed spill down your cheeks.

“Yes… I-I’m scared…” his smile softens, almost becoming sweet and familiar.

“Good. You should be.” Your blood runs cold.

He has the mercy to bathe, but not alone. You watch as the spray of water from some sort of piping turns pink as it disappears through tiny holes in the marble floor.

He’s nude, like you, and even though you cower and try to turn away, he easily stops any and all retreats with hardly any effort.

“I thought you didn’t like the blood? I’m still not clean petal.” His fluffy curls are flattened by the water falling above, the warm spray soaking you both as you try not to wonder why the sticky redness won’t just wash away with the water. The dried portions difficult to get off without physically touching and rubbing him with your soapy hands. You wanted to know why he was doing this, being so mean.

His ears look more distinct with his hair flat, onyx horns prominent against his forehead as his lashes hold droplets of water to frame his golden eyes.

You try not to show it, but as the blood clears and his dark smooth gold lined skin is revealed, you notice the hard lines of muscle and purple veins which protrude.

You only come up just below his chest, and you can’t look down, least you see it again.

He was making you nervous and scared on purpose, but you couldn’t understand why.

Like a coward you didn’t ask either, because you feared the answer even more.

Ava shifts, fingers coming up to cup your face in his hands and tilt your head up as he leans over you and blocks the water falling. His claws jut out beside your head, one lightly tickling your pointed little ear.

He licks his lips, loving the sight of you soaked and naked, your pretty form so enthralling to his eyes he struggles to contain himself.

“Do you want my help…?” His tone is condescending, eyes uncaring in the least about your inner turmoil.

“Here,” he drops one hand, engulfing your wrist and forcing you to plant your hand against his abdomen. “You have to wash like this—,” he teaches patiently, like none of this was happening and everything was fine. He moves your soft little hand back and forth, the soap quick to wash away as the water continues to fall. “You need more soap petal.” He informs gently, moving to stop the warm spray and letting you both stand in silence now, drops of water falling the only noise besides your breathing.

He sighs when you don’t move, your eyes trained on the corner of the spacious bathing room, where an in ground bath rests. He would take you to the hot springs later.

He fills the hand he has control of with soap, and amuses himself with using it like a washcloth, your little fingers curling as your lips tilt down into a frown.

“Since you need the help,” he goads, watching as those sweet familiar doe eyes flash up a glare from the corner of your eye.

He smiles, a nasty grin filled with something sinister as he chuckles darkly. “Don’t want to be my good girl anymore?” It’s a loaded question you’re unsure of how to answer.

It hardly matters as he forces your hand down, until you jolt at the change in body part you were touching. He forces your fingers to close around his throbbing length, unable to touch or fully wrap around it as your head jerks instinctively to look at what he was making you do.

“A-Ava—,” you try to pull away, but to no avail. He only hums, the soap like lube as he uses your hand to jerk his cock, amused as you stare in shock. He won’t let you go, not when the sight of your smaller form holding his leaking rod is so arousing he comes a minute a later. Hips thrusting with the timing of the squeeze he forces your hand to hold, hot ropes of his seed shooting out onto your chest and belly as he cages you with his free arm from moving away. He allows his purple tapered tip to smear the remaining pearls of his seed on your skin, ignoring your whine of protest as he paints you.

“Fuck, that’s it, be good for me pretty girl,” he growls lightly, chest rattling as he releases his pent up frustration on your confused form.

Really, you couldn’t be more adorable covered in his release looking dazed.

His golden eyes heavy lidded as he crouches down to catch your lips in a heated kiss.

You swallow nervously, staring at Ava as he stares at you from across his bed chambers.

You’d fallen asleep after… after bathing, if you could even call it that, and awoken later to find yourself alone again. Ava missing and your body covered by fine silk sheets while you slept.

You’d scrambled about the room looking for escape, finding nothing but a single exit locked, which Ava now stood before.

He wore a pair of silken sleep pants, tailored to his enormous figure as well as a matching robe left loose and revealing a majority of his chest and abdomen. His wings weren’t physical but a magic which naturally formed behind him, you’d learned.

The gold markings on his body were duller than earlier, his eyes less vibrant and more cool as he looks at you.

He seems more… familiar. Less of the Ava covered in blood and flesh of humans and more of the one you’ve befriended.

He’s silent, unmoving as he stands still in the doorway.

You don’t want to make the first move, unsure in this new environment, but you similarly disliked all of this distance and miscommunication between you both.

You moved cautiously, much like the skittish animal he likens you to in his mind, off the bed. You’d wrapped yourself in one of his sheets, his scent clinging to you the only thing stopping him from tearing it off you in annoyance. He stays put, muscles taunt and jaw clenched as you approach him like he might harm you.

He debated it.

Briefly showing you why you should be obedient and just listen, but dismissing it in favor of you liking him at least to some degree.

When you reach him, he merely stares down at you, face impassive unlike your nervous and awkward expression.

“Ava…?” He finally shifts, leaning down to close the distance a little but still not touching you. It’s you who initiates, because he’s certain he’s trained you well enough in your past touch starved state that you can’t resist the comfort and warmth he provides. You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your figure to his while looking up with those honest eyes he adores.

He finally relaxes, your touch so addicting he was unable to resist wrapping you further into his embrace while lifting you up. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, warm bare cunt now pressed against his abdomen while your arms come around his neck. The sheet loosening and falling down to pool at his feet. He finally smiles at your flustered state, not letting you climb down to grab it, instead moving you both towards his—your—bed and easily laying you down to drape over you.

“You’re calmer than I imagined you’d be…” he murmurs against the skin of your neck, kissing up to your jaw. “Should I prepare for your wrath later little flower?” He muses, lifting up to look at your expression.

“Was that blood… from a human?” You look guarded but he isn’t surprised.

“Yes.”

“Did you kill them?” He affirms again.

“Was it because of… me?” Those sweet eyes looked so haunted as you asked, as if you knew what he was going to say.

“No. It wasn’t because of you.”

You check his face, as if he were a human and would lie to you as they do.

“Then why did you do it?” You breathed, sagging in relief beneath him. His lips twitch, molten eyes shining with adoration as he looks upon you.

“They greatly offended me.” He answers vaguely, but it was the truth. They offended him by breathing and walking the earth. It was a direct insult to him. They only met misfortune because they caught his attention.

You seemed happy to accept whatever rid you of any guilt, looking up at him less fearfully now that he was clean and not being mean to you. Though, you both shared very different definitions of being “mean”.

“Am I staying the night?” You asked him curiously. You had thought he’d brought you here as he didn’t know where your home in the village was when you’d fallen asleep.

He shook his head, lips curling higher.

“You’re staying forever.” He declares, sweet scent filling your senses as he comes close enough to kiss you.

Then he does.

You thought his teasing was funny, lips tilting up finally as the awkwardness dissipates and familiarity rises.

This is your Ava, warm sweet Ava that smells so good it makes you crave sweets you cannot afford.

He presses you further into the unfathomably soft bed, his lips demanding as you open for him.

“Ava,” you break the kiss, breathing heavier as he growls and nips at your bottom lip, a shiver wracking you as he leans back enough to meet your gaze. “What we’re doing… it’s what lovers and spouses do isn’t it? At least, this is what human lovers do…” your voice becomes smaller as he stares down as you with an expression you couldn’t name.

“And?” He encourages.

You look away for a moment, gathering your thoughts before remembering out of all the cruelty in the world, Ava was the outlier.

“Is that what we’re doing? Like lovers?” You felt too embarrassed to directly state it, to say it aloud, and equally scared this isn’t anything different than exchanging a handshake with another faery to him. It was different to you.

“Do you want it to be?” He leans down, placing a feather soft kiss against your temple so you couldn’t see his eyes glowing bright. “Do you want us to be like lovers little flower?” His voice is deeper than usual, strained almost as he holds himself perfectly still above you.

You take the time to think, much to his displeasure, but when you answer it was everything for him.

“I do.”

He places a chaste kiss to your lips, his own tilting higher and higher until he’s grinning gleefully.

“Then that’s what we’ll be.” He confirms, and you miss it.

You miss every little trap he’d laid, each tiny piece of the puzzle forming around you like a cage. You miss everything and it’s too late to go back now. Ava muses wickedly, as he kisses you more sensually, lets his claws drag so delicately down your soft skin, he thinks how stupid you are.

“I’ll be all yours if you ask for it Y/N,” he speaks directly into your pointed ear, hot breath making the tips curl as you whine. The way he says your name is different than usual, more serious and seductive. You realize this seems wrong somehow, the way he’s making you melt so easily like this, how your panic and fear evaporated so quickly. You aren’t given time to think further, when he shifts and sits up. He sneers when you attempt to cover yourself again, gripping your wrist and lightly pulling you up too. On your knees, you face his chest, eyes looking up to see his heated expression.

Ava cups your jaw with one hand, and pokes at your lip with the other.

He doesn’t ask before his thumb invades your mouth, and you fight not to bite down or jerk away with his pointed claw inside.

He’s exploring, squeezing your cheeks until you open wide so he can playfully run over your sharpened canines. Curiously playing with your tongue until he leans down licks it with his own. It felt strange and erotic, your body vibrating with nerves and budding arousal as he explores you.

“Ava…” you wanted to touch him too, but he didn’t seem to be listening as he lets his hands trail down to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples as your back arches into them.

So you let your own hands wander, bolder than usual as you feel his solid form beneath you. His skin is much softer than it appears, strange markings and golden symbols flat. He had no softer points aside from that, muscles like stone and occasionally uncomfortable to lounge against due to it.

He squeezes your waist, smiling mischievous as you yelp and glare at him. He does it again, finally chuckling as he lets his hands slip to your ass.

This time his squeeze makes you gasp, as he parts your ass cheeks and allows your heated core to be exposed to the air. His claws so careful not to tear your skin open as he drags you taunt against him, rutting his hardened cock against your soft belly.

He moans aloud as he sees the tip poke out between you, your breasts above a delicious sight as he does it again and again.

“You drive me wild pretty faery,” he smiles, licking your cheek as he easily lifts you up to toss you to the center of the bed. You sink in, huffing but giggling as he crawls over you, looking like a dark angel as he covers you completely to capture your lips in a much more filthy kiss.

“I want to devour you,” he purrs, licking and kissing down your neck and chest, spreading your legs. “Make you mine completely,” you moan, feeling delirious as he finally licks your sloppy pussy.

You moan when you feel his fingers prod your entrance, sharp claws gone and retracted as he pushes one inside you while he laps at your clit. It feels different and firmer than his tongue, able to rub and stretch you better as he begins sucking on your puffy nub and purring deep in his chest. “Your little nub is hard~ are you feeling good?” He teases, wiggling the tip of his tongue over your engorged clit.

Then he’s pressing a second finger in, a mild burn heating your core as you gasp and try to shift away to no avail. “So sensitive,” he murmurs, spearing them into you, your soft gummy walls forcefully spread around the two digits as he noisily slurps. He’s being messy and a bit rough, but your moans spur him on as he groans into your pussy when you begin clawing at his hair and whining.

“Ava! S’too much! Can’t—!” You squeak and almost bite your tongue when you cum, pussy sucking his fingers deep and massaging them as you soak his hand and face.

He doesn’t stop, eyes glowing bright molten gold as he watches you squirm and babble senselessly while he stuffs a third finger into your poor overstimulated cunt. Your little hole stretched wide around him, and he’s content to watch as your greedy lower mouth takes it as he pumps them into you.

You’re less amused though, body thrumming as the pleasure becomes overwhelming and you panic.

“Stop, I’m gonna make a mess, Ava stop—!” You cry out, eyes watering before tears fall as you struggle to stop the powerful pressure building in your core, hurting you with the intensity as he pushes you further and further. “Your insides are steadily swallowing and sucking my fingers in, aren’t you a little lewd?” He asks, unaffected by your dull nails digging into his forearm, eyes trained on your drooling hole below.

He’s got an iron grip on your hip with his other hand, nails digging into your flesh every time you try to squirm away. “You’re so lovely like this petal.”

He’s fascinated when you break again, clear fluid squirting up and out from your squelching pussy as he continues to shove his fingers in.

You cum so hard it nearly causes you to lose consciousness, eyes rolling back as you twitch and moan as the dam inside you bursts open.

You whine as he pulls free, hand dripping in gooey arousal as he brings it to his lips and slurps it up without any decorum, appearing almost starved as he gazes down at you with the eyes of a predator. “Messy girl~ I’ll teach you though,” his lips pull back to reveal his sharp teeth, “When you feel so good you think you’ll break, you’re supposed to say I’m coming, do you understand?” He asks darkly.

“No more…” your weak plea only makes him smirk, kissing you softly as he slides forward and uses both hands to cover your hips and lift your lower half up.

Your eyes feel heavy as you force them open, slow to realize that his enormous cock is now laid over your pussy, pulsing and dragging back and forth through your slick folds. The thick veiny appendage causes your trepidation to rise, realization dawning that he intends to fit that inside of you.

“It won’t fit—,” you weren’t being cute or coy, because while you may not be human, your form was still the same size as one. He was much, much bigger, and his cock certainly fit his proportions. You try to catch his attention, unable to close your legs with his body between them. “Ava,” He’s truly not hearing you at all, too enthralled and excited as he lubes his massive length up with your juices. He’s shaking a bit too, heart beating rapidly in his chest as he coos down at you mindlessly, golden orbs almost unseeing at this point as he lines up with your entrance.

“So good for me petal~ you’re all mine aren’t you?” He breathes, and you feel the weight and pressure begin as his tip breaches.

“Wait, stop Ava—!” You whine as the sting becomes a burn and then you’re being filled to the point of excess as you struggle to breathe anymore.

“Shh—♡,” he hushes you, pained as well due to the pressure around him, strangling him as he grimaces and drags back out a little before surging forward. “You’re mine now petal,” he groans.

You’re unable to form words as he works his cock into you like a piece which doesn’t quite fit, bullying and stretching you open to forcefully fit himself.

He leans more weight down onto you as you struggle and writhe, noisy cries falling on deaf ears as he feels himself slipping deeper as your body finally gives up on keeping him out. His tip touches your cervix, before shoving even further and smashing it up as your stomach aches in protest.

You lay limp as he finally bottoms out, twitching with your mouth open and drool pooling down your chin as you feel nothing but the feeling of him inside you. He huffs a laugh, the way you look ruined before he’s even gotten started.

You look like a doll in his grasp, his cock extending your stomach a little as it twitches inside you. Your thighs ache as they’re naturally forced up, unable to spread fully enough for him to settle so he’d merely folded you and pressed you down to prevent escape.

“You did it pretty girl, look at you~” he grins, one hand leaving your hip to press on your belly, making your eyes widen and roll back as you whine. “You took every inch of me in this cute cunt didn’t you?” This male over you isn’t familiar, even as his sugary scent seems to increase and smother you, he seems foreign in his words and actions.

The inconsistencies are difficult to track as he drags himself out of you, the fullness replaced by feeling each ridge and bump of veins decorating his cock as he slides out.

Then he’s pushing in again, stealing your breath and ability to think as he starts to fuck you.

“Don’t worry petal, I won’t hurt you,” you can’t quite understand as he pushes his thick rod inside you, brain shutting off as you go pliant in his hold. “I’ll go nice and slow so you never forget,” he moans as you tighten and jerk, “who owns you.” He’s holding back with all his might as you spasm and grip him in inside of you, walls sucking him back in as he moves to exit.

You make him forget.

As you slick his cock up with your juices, he begins to slip in easier, folding you down further into a mating press as he looks down at your teary face. You make him forget all the time he’s spent alone. Your moans increase as he picks up the pace, pounding nice and deep inside of you and ridding you of any thought beside him. He slips a hand down between you both, claws retracted completely as he softly presses on your swollen clit and throws you reeling into another orgasm around him. “Say it petal,” he grits out, the feeling of you tightening drawing his own end. He’s hardly able to move inside you, short thrusts all he can manage as he drags you over the edge.

“I’m coming—!” Your head tips back, neck bared to his eyes as you cum for him obediently.

He fills you up right after, heavy engorged balls drawing up as he pumps his first load of the day into you. His thrusts not stopping as he rocks forward, expression relaxing as his magic swirls inside of you, his mating mark slowly sinking into your soul as he works to keep his seed deep within your womb. You’re too fucked out to notice, the pleasure and pressure overwhelming your senses as you try to rest now.

Except his cock doesn’t soften.

He thrusts hard once he’s sure his bond has settled, feeling you so much deeper in his soul as he drags his cock out almost all the way. “It’s like your little hole misses me already,” he smiles, watching as you flutter around his tip as if to tell him you don’t want him to leave. “Tell me petal,” he slides back inside, jolting you awake as you stare incredulously down at where you both connect. The slick sounds of him slipping into your sticky wet entrance haunting as you whine, hands digging into fine silk as you try to push away.

He only presses you down harder, cock burrowing deep as if to anchor you. His eyes are wild and swirling, the color so bright it’s almost blinding in the dim room. “How does it feel to lose?”

You blank. His question not making any sense as the room spins and you’re overcome again with pleasure so intense it makes your toes and feet curl in the air where they rest.

“How does it feel to be utterly mine for the rest of eternity?” You gasp, tearing at the sheets as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to truly fuck you now. Enormous cock working you into a frenzy as you yelp when two fingers pinch painfully around a nipple. “You’re not going back pretty girl,” he laughs, face wicked and beautiful as you look up through blurry eyes spilling tears. “You’ll not return to that filthy human village,” he releases your sore nipple in favor of loosely gripping your throat, feeling your pulse beneath his hand. “You are not in the land of Fae sweet flower,” he lets his lips ghost over yours, his tip bullying your cervix as you writhe and move to claw at his shoulders. “You are in my kingdom, ours, where the corrupted Fae separate themselves,” you’re lost, eyes crossing almost dumbly as you come again, choking as you cry out his name.

You can’t move even an inch, unable to even squirm as you’re forced to take each punishing inch of his cock and he ruts into you.

“Your pussy keeps tightening up when I tell you all the ways you’re mine. Do you like this?” He delights in your pathetic attempt to push at his chest, clearly finished despite his balls still being heavy with his seed he intends to spill into you.

“A-Av-Ava!” You struggle to form even his name, let alone any sentences as he keeps up his fast and brutal pace. Though, from his perspective he was still holding back as he moans and spills himself inside you again.

“Yes flower?” He coos, pushing your hair out of your sweaty face as he pulls out just enough to grip your thigh and turn you on your side, sliding back to the hilt again. He hugs your leg to his chest, working his cock at a new angle in your abused pussy still spilling cum from earlier. “I’m listening,” he chuckles, knowing you can’t speak, aware his cock was keeping you like this.

Words die down as he uses his hand not holding your leg up to grip your hip, holding you still while pushing his hips forward, railing himself inside your exhausted body. Your head rests against the bed, mouth open as your saliva soaks into the sheets, eyes staring at nothing as you feel another impending orgasm approaching.

Ava doesn’t mind, adoring the cute cock drunk expression as he uses you like a toy, filling you up over and over while you slowly lose your mind. “I’m sorry—Ava please, I’m sorry,” your slurred speech and delirious voice make him laugh. Genuinely amused by your rambling, “Why are you sorry petal? I’m not mad,” he catches your lips, tongue invading and swallowing your cries. He finds you so cute.

His cute, stupid little changeling, so trusting and unaware of his unsavory intentions.

You lose consciousness and count when he comes with his hips pressed deeply into your ass, pressing you belly first into his hand as he keeps you angled up to meet his thrusts. Your sensitive chest rubbing against the silk below, body limp as your world goes black and you convulse around him.

This time he lets you fall flat into the soaked bedding, taking his still hard cock out so he can pry apart your pussy lips and watch his release ooze out of your gaping hole.

His golden eyes flick up to your sleeping form, lips pulling as he coos, “Cute~♡” before he’s stuffing you full again, merciless as he leans on one arm to keep from crushing you as he continues to drill into you.

Even when you regain consciousness, trying to crawl away from his torturous pleasure, he only grips your arm and twists it gently behind you to hold. “You’re soaked and so hot inside, do you know how crazy you’re making me?” He groans, almost sounding like he’s in pain as you squeeze and come again. “I’m not letting you go, stop trying to run. You’ve already lost sweet girl.” As he lifts his hips, tip still encased by your wet hot heat, he eyes the slick mess which coats you both and connects you to him. “Go ahead and go crazy too, be good and listen.” He laughs, slamming back in and making your back arch as you nearly scream, feeling him so deep it makes you wonder if he’s going to break you. You really will go crazy, it’s a fleeting thought stolen by his cock once again, but you truly worry as he drowns you with euphoria and madness.

He’s hunched and leaning over your back, letting his tongue and teeth tease your ear so sweetly while he pounds you stupid, whispering to you things you won’t remember.

“You wanted my name so badly, didn’t you my lovely mate?” He knows you don’t understand, but it doesn’t stop him from speaking on, husky voice lulling you as you cry and lose yourself to pleasure. “I’ll tell you since you’re being so good, taking my seed so well~” he lets a little more weight settle on top of you, his cock nestling into your deepest parts with it.

“I am Avarice.”

Post dividers by @cafekitsune

[tanadrin]

I would love to hear the rant about social media doomerism and conspiracy

I’m on my phone right now but the summary version is something like:

Humans are bad at integrating information into their worldview accurately bc of various cognitive biases

Social media incentivizes us seeking out content that excites fear or anger or irritation

Social media thus causes us to form negative impressions of the world bc it mediates so much information consumption and discourse these days

This general negative affective impression is subject to high confirmation bias and ppl in general are really bad at divorcing an affective impression of a thing from their dispassionate reasoning abt a thing

(Bc one of the functions of an affective impression is to “cache” our conclusions about a topic to save time and effort later)

(In general if you are a cynic and pessimist you can fall prey to these biases w/o social media but I think social media makes more ppl susceptible to them)

People don’t want to be dupes so they seek refuge in cynicism. We treat cynicism as wise or worldly when in fact cynicism makes you a dupe and an easy mark for grifters. Cynicism and low trust foster conspiracism, paranoia, and antisocial politics

(This is why so many congenitally contrarian folks seem to flit effortlessly between the far left and far right; it’s not horseshoe theory, they’ve just cooked their brains on this stuff)

This is a world where populist anti-social politicians like Trump and the AfD thrive, bc they will lie about how everything is terrible and people will nod along, bc it explains why their social media is full of awful stories of, like, immigrants eating pets and shit

But it doesn’t just have to be insane lies only a moron could believe. It can be any impression about a fact in the world that it is difficult to personally check and which is vulnerable to being swayed by anecdote

This is how we get a word where people think crime rates are higher than they’ve ever been when in fact crime is falling

Or child predators lurk around every corner when in fact children are safer than ever

Or the American economy is in a recession when in fact it’s doing historically well by just about every available metric (now with full employment AND low inflation!)

Because in a big world even where things are in general good and getting better you can always produce infinite individual examples of shitty things and pipe those in a steady stream into people’s eyeballs, and then point to that and leverage people’s low trust attitudes and their cynicism which tells them they are smarter than the experts and go “statistics is just a fancy way to lie! The world is secretly terrible! Every bad thing is even worse than you thought and every good thing is a lie!”

(Nevermind the whole phenomenon where anything that is complicated or that someone does not themselves understand gets treated like it’s actually secret and a conspiracy.)

And here I know I have to include some disclaimer about how this is not to discount individual cases of suffering or struggle, which are real, or that there are indeed some really awful things happening in the world right now, which there are, but you know what?

I’m tired of doing that. People with reading comprehension operating in good faith ought to be able to deduce that general statements do not obviate particular exceptions, and people who cling to their doomerism as a kind of emotional life raft do not generally argue with me in good faith.

Sometimes doomerism is a load-bearing pillar of their politics, which I think is dumb—I think you can be a leftist or a progressive without being a doomer! In fact I think doomerism is antithetical to useful politics!

Sometimes they are just depressed and treatment-resistant. Sometimes they are just angry misanthropes who want to feel justified in their misanthropy. Some doomers are themselves in bad circumstances and feeling hopeless about that—to them I am enormously sympathetic. Though a lot of doomers will admit they personally are doing OK—this does not seem to be most doomers.

But I think in general cynicism and doomerism and a worldview dominated by a general nebulous air of Everything Is Awful and by abstract nouns with threatening auras is not conducive to wisdom or understanding or useful politics or leading a happy and fulfilling life.

[loveinhawkins]

It’s barely hit 9pm when Eddie muffles a yawn against Steve’s shoulder and murmurs, “Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“My eyes keep closing.”

Steve smiles. Traces a soothing, circular path along Eddie’s scalp. “That’s okay.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t wanna…” Eddie trails off for a moment; Steve feels his body relaxing further, slumping against him. “Don’t wanna miss it.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. The Golden Girls is playing in the background. “Uh, I mean. I could tape it?”

“No,” Eddie repeats, and his hand clumsily pats Steve’s cheek. “Don’t wanna miss it.”

Steve presses his lips to the warmth of Eddie’s palm. “Ah,” he says, gently teasing, “‘cause saying the same thing twice definitely makes sense.”

Eddie tsks. He prods with one finger at Steve’s jaw.

“Ow,” Steve laughs.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

“Talkin’ ‘bout you,” Eddie says, “Steve Harrington.”

And there’s the way he says Steve’s name, all rounded, like he’s savouring each syllable.

“There’s so much… so much goin’ on in there,” Eddie continues. Tap, tap, taps across Steve’s face. “You’d…” A sleepy huff of laughter. “You’d be a terrible spy.”

“Thanks,” Steve says dryly.

“Steeeve,” Eddie says, lilting into a song of his own creation. “Steve, Steve, Steve. S’a compliment.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular charmer.”

“I mean—” Eddie yawns again. “Mean it. Y’know, in… in school. Even if your… words were… your eyes, they… they’d always say s’actly what you were thinkin’.”

“In school?” Steve says. You noticed me? “Like when?”

It’s a blatant prompt, a wish for something more, but he can’t help it. Eddie smiles indulgently.

“Jus’ b’fore you graduated. First period. Asked you for a pen. Your mouth said sure an’ your eyes said forgetful prick.”

Steve laughs. “Fuck off, no they didn’t.”

He can feel Eddie’s giggles reverberating through him.

“Only kidding.” Eddie mimes like Robin does, indicating a tiny amount with his thumb and forefinger. “Half kidding.”

“Uh-huh.”

Eddie tilts his head from where it rests on Steve’s shoulder, eyes blinking languidly, as if he’s suddenly really putting the effort in to keep them open. As if this is something important.

“Y’know, in school I always tried to… notice things. People. Like, who ate lunch alone, or… Didn’t want anyone to, uh. Slip through the cracks.” Eddie sighs, a little melancholy. “Still missed stuff, though.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair. “You’re only human.”

You were trying. You cared. That’s enough.

Eddie gives a bittersweet hum. “Knew I missed stuff with you,” he says. “Makes sense now, but back then… Could never figure it out. Jus’ knew you were suddenly, like… at the end of a book or something, an’ I’d barely started the first page. And you’d… you’d look so…” Another sigh. “Not… not quite sad, but… like you knew something. Something you couldn’t… walk away from.” Steve’s nose suddenly stings.

“S’why I don’t wanna miss it,” Eddie says. “Don’t wanna waste a second.” He smiles again, eyelids heavy. “There’s whole stories in your eyes, Steve Harrington.”

For a moment, Steve can’t speak for the enormity of it: the fact that he’s just heard probably the most romantic thing in the world, and it’s about him.

For a moment, it makes him brave.

“You’re not gonna miss anything if you dream about me.”

Eddie laughs. “Wow,” he says, drawn out, and the end of it turns into a yawn, then a drowsy sigh. His eyelids droop… flicker… close. “Presumptuous and corny.”

But Steve can hear the fondness in it—like maybe Eddie thinks he’s heard the most romantic thing, too.

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, softer, “Can’t help what you turn me into.”

“Hmm?” Eddie mumbles, like he’s trying his best, but the thread of the conversation is still running away from him, getting lost to his dreams.

“Shh,” Steve says. He shifts until he’s lying on his back, gently guides Eddie down with him. “G’night.”

He feels Eddie breathing against his shoulder.

“Night,” Eddie whispers. “Night, night, night…”

Steve smiles; Eddie repeats stuff when he’s drifting off, has even had whole circular conversations with Dustin about whatever movie they happen to be watching.

“G’night,” Steve says again, and he almost says something more. Doesn’t—because Eddie’s breaths are truly heavy with sleep now.

Maybe he could already read it in Steve’s eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll dream about it until Steve can say it for real.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

What kind of art style makes you not care about how realistic a creature desing is?

the more it leans into a simplified cartoonish style, the more i can handwave things like weird proportions. the further it leans into realism, like near-photographic realism, the more i view it with a critical eye.

like, I'm not going to look at the old Dragon Tales cartoon and say "wow those dragon designs are so unbelievable, there's no way those tiny wings can be useful!"

(image description: a screencap showing several cartoon characters two human children and three dragons, one of which is a two headed dragon. the style is very simple and squishy with vibrant colors and minimal shading. end description)

but then on the other hand, i can't look at the Game of Thrones dragons, which are intended to look Real and fit in with all the live action stuff, and say "oh it's fine that their wing membranes don't extend far along the body, the giant spoon shape is just an artistic choice" because these dragons exist in a story that seems to pride itself on realism and it feels weird to me that they didn't put more effort into making their dragons look more like living animals instead of just the generic cool spiky dragon with little consideration of how wing shapes work or how heavy all those cool looking spiky bits are. also they have the thing where the dragons' chests are like enormous but they have a weirdly skinny belly. i am begging, why do people keep designing dragons with the bodies of greyhound dogs. that body shape is for high speed running with a very flexible spine, not for giant flying lizards. (also why do their teeth look like this, is that actually useful or just to make them look more freaky)

(image description: screencaps of the dragons in Game of Thrones. they have broad wings with a skinnier membrane where the wing meets the body, large round chests with a narrow belly, teeth that look crooked and multi layered, and bodies covered in very rough spiky scales, horns, and spiked fin shapes. they have been rendered in a photo realistic way to fit in live action scenes. end description)

i have only seen clips of Game of Thrones, it's not my type of fantasy. i don't always hate spiky dragons. we have real life lizards that are also incredibly spiky. but sometimes it just feels like it's being done in excess and makes them look more like they've been roughly carved out of stone rather than being living animals.

but anyway, yeah i think that shows the range of extremes from cartoon style into full realism.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map Pt. 5

The storm rages around you, battering your small vessel as the massive sea monster rises up out of the water in an effort to claim you as its supper. After several tedious days (weeks? months? you're pretty sure it hasn't been years) at sea with little to do, this certainly breaks up the monotony, though perhaps not in the way you'd prefer.

It speaks to your character that, when presented with this terrible threat, you neither ran nor hid away, but chose to face it head on. In fact, one could go so far to say that this has become a defining moment in your life - for when faced with the sea's wrath, you chose to be Brave and face it head on. Yet you also chose to be Compassionate, for when given a choice of weapons to face the sea monster, to left the harpoon behind, and chose instead the net in hopes that this conflict might find a nonlethal resolution.

Terror attempts to seize you, but you power through it and throw your net high at the looming beast bearing down at you. "A net? Are you serious?" the monster laughs. "I'm not a school of tuna, you know-ACK!"

Your aim is true, and your net drapes over the less serpentine bits of the monsters anatomy, quickly tangling her hair and limbs together as she splutters, "What the hell? Why is it so... so tangly?" She thrashes wildly in an attempt to tear free, and in the process her enormous serpentine tail swings back and forth around your boat, all while the waves do their best to toss both of your around for good measure.

One especially large swell pushes her forward as another rocks your boat in her direction. You watch helplessly as the monster crashes headfirst into the deck of your boat, her head smacking into the wood planks with a loud thud just as your boat rams into the belly of her serpent tail. The now-unconscious sea beast begins to slip off your deck as her now limp tail is tossed and turned by waves that finally meet no resistance from it.

You could just let her go, and watch as the unconscious, partially immobilized monster disappears beneath the waves. But you already resolved to end this without death, and you're not turning back from that now. Grabbing the netted part of her, you heave and lift with all your might to pull her further aboard, eventually getting her to the entrance of your boat's cabin. Unfortunately, the waves pick that moment to strike your boat again, making your hands slip as you drop the unconscious monster's human-ish body down the stairs.

She... she'll probably be fine. You assume sea monsters are made of hardy stuff.

Most of her coils are now on your boat's deck, and the few parts of her tail that hang off have become so entangled with your boat's sides and she is essentially safe and secured. With your unwary passenger taken care of, you finally return to your steering wheel and ride out the storm.

As thunder roars, lightning flashes, and the wind, rain, and waves all conspire to destroy your fragile vessel, you face a far greater fight than that with the monster. What follows is something of a blur, as the adrenaline racing through your veins, the increasingly dark sky clouding your vision, and the sheer chaos of the world around you all blends together in the most anxious and terrifying moment of your life so far. The longer it lasts, the more certain you are that you won't survive it.

Then... it's over. You don't actually know how you made it through, not fully, but you wake up with your hands still clutching the steering wheel of your ship, which, upon one glance outwards, seems to have landed safely on an island. You step out and see a clear, blue sky, sandy beaches, and several tall palm trees in the distance. You're safe, for the moment.

There are several things to attend to, so you consult your compass.

[cobra-diamond]

What I Liked From Azula in the Spirit Temple

Now that Azula in the Spirit Temple has been out for a few days, I can confidently say I found the majority of the book compelling and worthwhile. However, it is difficult for me to say I enjoyed it due to the dark and depressing subject and its flaws, which I will cover later, but not all art is meant to be fun and I would consider Spirit Temple to be a work of art rather than entertainment. Here are the things I liked from Spirit Temple:

It Tackles Heavy Topics

Azula’s feelings toward Mai and Ty Lee’s betrayal. Her relationship with her father and mother. Azulon’s order to have Zuko killed. Her mother’s disappearance. Vengeance. Feudal piety. The consequences of going against royalty. Azula’s ability to reach into a dark place. These have been dangling plot threads since the show ended, for fifteen years, and this comic sufficiently touched on them to provide much-needed context and clarity.

The Asylum is Contextualized

A dumping ground for rebellious noble children. A place for the most traditional families to imprison their unruly daughters (read: sluts and lesbians) to punish them for “transgressions” against their proper roles in society. Scraps of humanity drifting down the river of life. This is high-level stuff with direct historical analogues. Not only is this how Azula saw her imprisonment at the asylum (dumped there to be humbled and broken) and saw herself while there (a scrap of a person), it world-builds the Fire Nation’s society in a much-needed way.

Hair-Down-and-Angry Azula

Thematically perfect. Not only does this feel like the “real” Azula bursting forth—angry, jaded, tormented, troubled—but it harkens back to pre-breakdown Finale Azula, when she was struggling with the very topics the comic addressed (see: throne room scenes). I love Hair-Down-and-Angry Azula. Some might call it Angry Wet Cat Azula. It feels like a return to the Finale when all of this “Who is Azula?” questioning began. Brilliant creative decision. Need more of it like I need oxygen.

Azula Hates Herself

This has long been speculated. Azula loathes herself and has low self-esteem despite also having immense pride, talent, and achievements to bolster her self-worth. She uses the word “loser” to describe Ty Lee and Mai, which means she views her current self as a loser. She hates that she is alone and betrayed. She hates that the best of herself doesn’t cancel out the worst. She hates that who she is is not who others want to be with. I think this is great for a prodigy who has experienced conditional love by her most influential parent.

Azula is Darkly, Horribly Conflicted

She loves her father, but also sees how he harmed her. She wants her family to be together and happy, but she also feels that if Zuko had been killed her life would have been better. She is proud of her achievements, but the consequences of what she had to be and do to achieve them makes her hate herself. Zuko was never this conflicted, even at the peak of his journey. This will take an enormous narrative effort to overcome, with likely tons of setbacks, but when it happens, it will make Zuko’s redemption look like a warmup.

There are professional authors who spend their entire careers never sniffing a character like this. I can’t say where the Avatar franchise will take Azula, and they could still fuck this all up, but this is a character capable of reaching the highest summits of literary storytelling. Capable of, not necessary will. There is not a character remaining in Avatar who can hold a candle to the moral and internal conflict found in Azula in this comic. The franchise has something special, if they handle it right.

Azula’s Desire for Family

If her family was together, that would mean none of the bad things would have happened. Her low self-esteem would be fixed by the love and admiration of her family. This is a good development. There are tons of evidence for it in the show based on how often Azula says “we” and “us” and acts like the Queen Bee of a group rather than a loner. She hates being alone and the idea of family and parental figures gives her the most security. Very realistic and compelling. Avatar has not had a character motivated by pain of loneliness and want for human connection.

Azula Continues to Use Collective Pronouns

A pattern existed in the show where Azula would very often use “we”, “us”, “our”, and other forms of collective pronouns or group references instead of “I” or “my”. The pattern continues in this comic. There are several instances where she uses collective terms when she could have said “I” or “my”. At this point, it is intentional by the writers. They are signaling something that shows up again in this comic: Azula wants community and teamwork, not isolation.

Azula is Willing to Accept Blame, But Not All of It

Just like a real person with strong will and pride would. We are all the heroes of our own journeys. Accepting blame is painful, and for a person like Azula, who has all these accomplishments under her belt, to bury herself under 100% guilt and culpability, and to allow people to denigrate those accomplishments in turn because of how "bad" she is, can likely come across as a bridge too far. She conquered Ba Sing Se, killed the Avatar, saved the capital during the Day of Black Sun. Who is anyone to tell her she did nothing right and everything wrong? Azula is also highly intelligent, which makes it easier for her to justify her actions and beliefs and craft narratives explaining it all.

Azula is recognizing she has flaws and has made mistakes. It even appears she wants to be able to talk about them. The door is not shut on listening to criticism. This makes Azula’s potential reconciliation with the heroes full of drama and dynamic conversations.

Azula Won’t Be Brow-Beat or Guilt-Tripped into Submission

If she is backed into a corner with accusations of being cruel, evil, to blame for everything, the cause of all her problems, a monster, like the Zuko apparition was doing, she will lash out. Call it denial. Call it a defense mechanism. She will not allow what she is proud of, what she feels was worth it, what has been her closely-held identity, to be thrown in the gutter. This is high-level literature and human psychology. And it holds an important implication for the future: the heroes will not be able to shame Azula into accepting their morality or worldview. Unless her feelings are taken into account, the back-and-forth dialogue observed in Spirit Temple will not happen.

Azula’s Walls Can Snap Up in an Instant

She can let her guard down and hear criticism, but if the criticism turns into a personal attack, her walls will snap back up and she will drop back into old habits and beliefs to protect herself. This is a tough problem for the narrative to solve based on its complexity, sensitivity, and need for tact, and so will require a special character to help Azula work through. I don’t think the franchise currently has such a character. Maybe a more militant, warrior-poet version of Guru Pathik could do this.

Azula Talks and Thinks Like a Feudal Princess, Not a 21st Century Teenager

This needed to happen. ATLA needs to start developing the politics of the Fire Nation if they are to successfully build out Azula’s and Zuko’s post-war dynastic struggles. This is the first time the franchise has taken this seriously. Azula calls her family traitors, thinks Ty Lee should have been grateful for having the ear of royalty. Royalty. Finally, the word is being used to describe the social dynamic between her and her friends. Great stuff. This is who Azula would be in “reality” and part of why she is so scary to us today.

Azula Sets Her Terms for Reconciliation with the Heroes

Apologies. Acknowledgments of the pain and damage they caused her. Them valuing the “good” things she has done for them, much of it from her feudal princess perspective, and some from her troubled teenage girl perspective. I don’t think this is everything she will put on the table, but it’s major pieces of the redemption and reconciliation puzzle. This is probably one of the most profound parts of the book, because it says the door is not closed between her and the heroes. Zuko being Fire Lord and the war being over are not showstoppers.

Azula Loves, and Hates, Her Dad

Her father has both hurt and helped her. She hates him for turning her into his firebending weapon, but loves him for how that led her to greatness, and the conditional love she received from him. She is a villain loving another villain. I think there is something significant here that might play a role in the future: Azula will continue to love her father until he shows he doesn’t love her. In fact, she might seek confirmation of love from him and his response might be a turning point in their relationship.

Azula is Developing Her Own Identity

She says she is the last of her kind, the only one left. Sounds like she sees herself as representing a version of the Fire Nation that doesn’t want to go down quietly, the version of the Fire Nation that Zuko needs to figure out how to redeem rather than destroy. Even though she recognizes the damage her father did to her, she retains enough pride and belief in the Fire Nation’s war to stand by him. This looks like a sign of Azula coming into her own person, even if it is villainous and could send her down a dark path. Regardless of the morality, she seems to be voicing her own beliefs, and beliefs are supremely important to developing character, as beliefs can change. Azula still has to learn the wrongness of the war. This might be her “Zuko Alone” moment equivalent to Zuko declaring his identity to the corrupt soldiers.

The Spirit Centipede

Awesome design and capabilities. It seems it was trying to pump her full of opium in the form of the beach dream whereby she falls into a forever sleep in that perfect world allowing the centipede spirit to eat her. Instead, Azula rejected it and the spirit discovered it doesn't actually know this human as well as it thought it did and so panics and tries whatever it can to get Azula to succumb to its offerings of pain alleviation. One of the best spirit designs we have seen in the post-show products in my opinion.

Coraline References

Fantastic movie. Still creeps me the hell out. I’m afraid Azula would not last a week against the Other Mother. The Centipede Spirit tried to be an Other Mother. It couldn’t hold a candle.

More Evidence Azula’s Design Was Inspired by Lady Eboshi

Page 72, Panel 3.

[galaxythreads]

Honestly I always just assumed that it was only the power stone that could vaporize you by touch (because it’s the *power stone*) but everyone always says that it’s all the stones. So I’m wondering if there’s any time where another stone hurts someone just by touching it? I haven’t been watching any mcu recently, especially not the newer stuff, so maybe that’s why I didn’t know?

no worries! When Fury touches the outer casing of the Tesseract in Avengers 1, he is visibly in pain and he has to shake his hand to get rid of the numbness.

(do not have gif of this, but it's when he's putting the Tesseract in the suitcase before Clint shoots him in the chest and Loki says "please don't, I still need that")

^ Red Skull is vaporized when he tries to break the Tesseract in Cap 1:

^ just lightly touching the mind stone activates Wanda's innate magic 3000 + gave Pietro his powers

^ ULTRON won't touch the mind stone

^ Raw energy of the tesseract gives Carol her powers

^ CONTACT ALONE with the power stone is enough to make Thor scream

+ the scene you were talking about from gotg1 with the power stone

^ an enormous plot point of TDW is that hours after getting possessed by the infinity stone, Jane is on the brink of death. Is it instant vaporization, no, but I think that's only because it's not in one go, she's taking it in her body like a fluid, so there's more skin to absorb the power, if that makes sense?

+ other examples I'm too tired to think of. Like vaporization is only shown with the Power Stone on screen, but all of them clearly have an adverse effect when you touch them and we know that even though they don't state it explicitly because of the WAY the infinity stones are presented to us. ALL of them (except the soul stone) are encased in something to make it easier to touch. That was done on purpose, not just convenience. if you watch mcu infinity saga closely, you'll notice just how much care was put into making the infinity stones visibly powerful without ever having to say anything about it. People use the magic from them, but they rarely, if ever, actually touch the stone.

i.g.

the scepter ^

^ an entire magic spell has to be cast in order to OPEN the necklace that holds the time stone, let alone USE it. it's dangerous to touch, so they have it locked away

^ he's USING the time stone, but look how much effort was made into NOT touching it

when he gives Thanos the time stone he makes an effort NOT to touch it

^ the reality stone is consumed by Jane, but any time anything tries to touch her, a magic shield appears that protects it from threats (Also couldn't find a gif of this, but again, massive plot point of TDW is that they can't get the aether out without Malekith's help)

HOWEVER. you are right. People do touch the Infinity Stones with what is basically bare hands a lot, but not really until Endgame/Infinity War

So...rules are fluid? I guess? Personally, I just don't understand why so many infinity stones would be encased in such powerful objects for protection unless it WAS dangerous to touch them

The Tesseract was put in shatter-proof glass that survived centuries, the Soul Stone is...under some sort of spell via God(?)(unclear), the aether was broken into pieces so it's evil kool aid (which is a protectio device because you can touch the bits of the aether without it killing you, rather than the entire infinity stone), the time stone is in a necklace you have to use magic to open, the power stone was hidden in an unbreakable orb and the mind stone was encased in the scepter (Thanos might have done this himself, also unclear)

The point is that I think MCU didn't really decide one way or the other, and even if they DID, thanos is intended to be a bit sturdier than the average human, so him making contact wouldn't vaporize him instantly, I think.

[babybluebanshee]

Stuff I've Had to Deal With as a City Librarian - Plus Ultra Edition

Been a while, huh? Have some public library nonsense!

TW for racism and bodily fluids.

Julie found a half-used tube of toothpaste in the computer lab. Just chilling by one of the computers.

Lori had to fish a pair of shitty underwear out of a toilet in the men's room.

We'd been trying to convince the children's librarian to stop using liquid glue for her various kids' craft projects or on the craft table. Two incidents finally lead to her doing this. First a lady put her purse on the craft table to tie her shoe. She set it directly in an enormous puddle of glue a kid had left behind. Then second was a kid getting glue on the bottom of his shoe after story time and tracking it everywhere. She's since switched to glue sticks and everyone is much happier.

When people lose books, they have to pay for them, and if they find the books, they can either bring them back to us (and get a refund if they bring them within a year) or keep them. A lady came in and said she lost some books and was ready for them. I check her card so I can see what she has and write them up, and she, totally unprompted says, "Yeah, I know where they are, they're just massively overdue and buying them outright would be cheaper than paying the fines." I told her she couldn't do that; if she still has the items and they aren't damaged, we would like to have our materials back so we don't have to spend any money getting replacements. She replies, "But why can't I just buy them?" It took every ounce of resistance in my body to tell her that we're not a bookstore, she has to bring the goddamn things back, that's how libraries work.

We caught a guy shaving in the lab. He didn't seem to find this strange at all, and when we asked why he didn't just go in the bathroom, he replied he didn't know he could do it there. And your first thought was not to ask, but to do it in our computer lab?!

One of my coworkers checked the cafe and found a guy sleeping. The city has been riding us not to let people do that, but we generally just kind of shake them a little, remind them they can't sleep there, then let them immediately go back to sleep when we walk away. We generally don't care. But when my coworker tried to stir this guy, he didn't move. Shook him by the shoulder. Nothing. Nearly shouted. Nary a stir. The way the dude is sitting makes it hard to see if he's breathing, so she starts to get concerned. She goes back to the desk and tells Julie what's going on; Julie tries to rouse him, doesn't succeed. They ended up having to call the police for a wellness check, because they were genuinely starting to get concerned for the guy's safety. The cop finally managed to wake him up, and it turns out the dude was fine. He's apparently just a very heavy sleeper.

We had a bad ice storm one day, so the library didn't open. Rachel checked the messages the next day when we reopened, and a woman called three times in a row to ask why we weren't open, she tried the doors and they didn't work, we're supposed to be open, why aren't we open, all with increasing frantic tone. In one call you could hear her yanking on the doors.

A patron parked outside called us and said that there was a woman in the parking lot writing down people's license plate numbers. Travis had to call the police (protocol for "suspicious behavior"). Turns out the police are well aware of this woman's antics all around town, to the point where it's a city effort to get her some help with what is clearly unchecked mental illness. A week later, the same woman got in trouble in the Walmart parking lot, doing the same nonsense, and calling the woman who caught her a human trafficker.

Someone opened and ate a can of chicken in the men's bathroom, though they couldn't have eaten much because most of it seemed to be on the floor. Poor Becky and Sam had to clean it up. The smell alone was horrible.

A man couldn't get into his gmail account, so I went over to help him. It turned out he had two-factor authentication set up, so it was trying to send a code to his phone. He refused to confirm his phone number because "I don't want these people tracking me". I had to fight the urge to laugh in his face, because he simply would not accept that he had to do that in order to get into his gmail, and the absolute irony of not wanting to be tracked while using motherfucking Google's email service.

A girl and her grandmother came in, and the girl forgot her library card. Grandma was fully prepared to check out the book she wanted...until she saw it was a book about Ted Bundy. She proceeded to go on a hellfire and brimstone rant about how the book was Satanic and she shouldn't have even touched it. She kept looking to my poor coworker for support her, and you could just tell that my coworker wanted to just fade away into the chair she was sitting in.

One night, I found an abandoned pair of shorts in the men's bathroom. Julie found a pair of sunglasses in the cafe, and Macey found a travel coffee mug (coffee still in it) in one of the study rooms. Tit's out kind of outfit.

A guy ate absolute shit on his motorized scooter on the sidewalk outside the library. Donna had to call 911, but the guy refused to go to the hospital because he couldn't afford it, no matter how worried the EMTs were about the bleeding gash on his forehead or the possibility of a concussion. Hope he'll be alright. And that's why we always wear our helmets, kids.

A woman came in at 8:47 (we close at 9) and had Rachel make 89 copies of her handwritten conspiracy theory journal. The lady had called in advance to check when we closed, and still came in that close to closing with her bullshit, and tried to stay after they were finished. Luckily, she was chased out.

Donna, Julie, and Rachel were leaving for the evening, and someone pulled up, opened their car door, yelled the n-word, and drove off. All three of those women are white as the driven snow.

The city sets up a ceramic Christmas village display in our rotunda area every year, and this year, Lori decided to have fun with it. She put a little plastic alien and dragon somewhere in the village, and anyone who found them got a sticker. Obviously, kids were really into it, but the adults were even more so. You've never seen so many people over forty excitedly looking for little plastic toys before.

A absolutely gorgeous woman in the most beautiful African dress came in and asked to use a computer. When I told her how to log on, she said "Thank you, my love." and floated off. Her perfume made me feel a way.

[apompkwrites]

Hi sorry it's been a while I just couldn't get an idea of how to do this 😅 so here's Lil!Draconia! (I haven't seen the new years event so imma make stuff up:) )

It's New years, another year has passed and so much has happened. Lil!Draconia has mixed feelings about New years. They don't think that it's a bad tradition, they love watching the humans celebrate. But what they don't like are the fireworks, they are pretty but they are also loud, and fae have enhanced senses so they don't like the constant booming and popping.

NRC holds a small new years celebration after all the students come back from break into the new year. There would be stalls and events held by some of the clubs, and of course, at the end of the celebration, fireworks! The most beautiful and colorful ones courtesy of the Al-asims.

Lil! Draconia's club is not holding an event so they are watching the celebration from afar, not too far away to not hear to hustle and bustle, but also not close enough to be considered a part of it. They enjoy these moments, even though they are alone they don't feel like it with all the noise. They hear quiet footsteps from behind them and turn around to see their big brother Malleus. His club obviously didn't hold an event with how its just him so he has nothing to do either. They greet each other and Malleus decides to stay with them for the duration of the celebration.

It's nearly over and the count down for the fireworks has begun, Lil!Draconia braces themselves for the loud booming and popping. Malleus sees how uncomfortable they look so he moves closer to them and casts a spell around them to muffle the noise. Still enough to hear it but not enough to make them flinch. The spell takes effect immediately and Lil!Draconia can finally relax while looking at the flashing lights. Satisfied, Malleus tries to move away before feeling Lil!Draconia's head resting on his arm. "Happy new year, big brother" it was barely even above a whisper but the crowned prince still heard it. All those years he felt like there was an enormous gap between him and his sibling and this one interaction made his realize that they can slowly inch closer with a little time and effort. "Happy new year to you too, Lil!Draconia"

Yaay another black sheep done:D and only 2 left! Thank you for reading and have a good day/night!

>:} anon

hnghnm your honor i love them--

i can imagine lil draconia physically trembling because they're afraid of the fireworks :((

but then imagine malleus does this, right? he's helping his little sibling because he's always wanted to reconnect with them after learning of their relationship. but lil draconia instinctively avoids him because of how they were raised.

so they think no one's gonna help them with the fireworks since their busy with clubs or just don't know about their enhanced hearing.

until suddenly the sound muffles. it's still there, but it's quieter. and malleus relishes in the fact that lil draconia doesn't run from him as they watch the fireworks together :)

[treecakes]

tagged by @loquatenjoyer69 thank you crow!!!

do you make your bed?

ummm if i have people over. or i’m going away for a few days. otherwise not really 😭

what’s your favourite number?

12!

what is your job?

i work as a student digital archivist ^_^ and photographer primarily dealing with artifacts. and most insanely and very recently a set of skulls. which i hated.

if you could go back to school would you?

i’m im undergrad still! for anthropology with a concentration in archaeology. and i want to get my masters in heritage preservation. i’m actually going to begin applications very soon…. after that who knows. but a phd scares me. and i’m content with a masters probably. lol.

can you parallel park?

ummmm maybe. badly.

a job you had that would surprise people?

no one believes me when i say i worked at a liquor store for over two years 😭 most insane job ever but it was fun and kind of low-effort when i worked mornings. which i mostly did. but my boss always Also put me on the register (alone!!!) on friday nights. which sucked so bad busiest night of the week and i was the only register. insane. but even customers thought it was weird that i worked there one guy told me i was too modest to work at a liquor store…? 🤔

do you think aliens are real?

yeah the universe is just so enormous there has to be other life out there, even if it’s not to the level of human intelligence there’s stuff out there

can you drive a manual car?

i can barely drive A Car.

what’s your guilty pleasure?

just really abysmal low quality shows movies etc. like i get so angry but that’s the fun to me i like it. keeps me entertained.

tattoos?

no but i have a few i want maybe. idk. i keep changing my mind but eventually i’ll get some probably

favourite colour?

to wear? maroon or navy blue. to look at? green.

favourite type of music?

indie/folk or rock. or jazz.

do you like puzzles?

yes!!!!!!!!!

any phobias?

if you show me a photo of a bug i get freaked out.

favourite childhood sport?

only sport i’ve ever done was x-country running in middle school and i was bad at it. otherwise i’ve always hated sports and will not partake.

do you talk to yourself?

sometimes. when i’m mad. otherwise not really.

what movie(s) do you adore?

i love kiki’s delivery service and mystere a la tour eiffel. that second one is kind of mediocre but i love it and have seen it one billion times

coffee or tea?

tea!!! i love it so much. i like white tea the most or if i have a migraine i drink peppermint for the nausea. but i have a whole collection of tea otherwise those are just my favourites

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

construction worker….

tagging?

you! the person reading this!!!! say i tagged you and i will smile so wide :)

[flowers-of-io]

Softer Still

Read on Ao3

“And this one?” Mariko is straining to reach the rune plate, balancing on her toes in a way that makes Fynch rapidly develop a second neurosis on top of his existing one. Decades of lonely searching and now his time in the throne world have made him rusty on the intricacies of the human condition. How breakable are children? Would it cripple her if she lost her balance and fell to the floor? Oh, the Guardian would kill him if anything happened to her on his watch.

Fortunately, the girl lowers her soles to stand flat on the ground, making him release a metaphorical breath, and looks at him questioningly.

“Uhhh… This one means ‘break’,” Fynch says. What an irony.

“Like… a school break?”

“Like bone-break,” comes the rumbling voice from behind them. Up to this point Ken has been fulfilling his duty as the other half of the babysitting duo mostly by standing around silent and still like a security guard, and Fynch did not expect him to change that. There is a glint of a chuckle in his middle eye, if but a faint one.

Mariko gasps in surprised delight.

“I didn’t know you could speak Terran!”

Ken shrugs, “Little.”

“Okay then,” she points at another rune, “what about this one?”

“It’s ‘books’,” Fynch says. “Or rather, the Hive equivalent of books? They don’t really use paper or anything like that. Sometimes they write on tablets, but the important stuff that goes to the archives is all stored in crystals.”

“Crystals?” Mariko furrows her brow. It looks comical on her childish face, like a pantomime of a deeply troubled sage.

Fynch twitches his shell, thinking. “It’s… like a data bank? They encrypt information inside, but use magic to do that. Some of that stuff is super old, it almost never corrupts.”

“Data… bank?” Ken casts Fynch a puzzled look.

Mariko jumps at the opportunity.

“It’s a thing… it looks like a datapad, sometimes. Has he ever seen a datapad?” She glances at Fynch as well, then tumbles into the next sentence before he can even respond, “Umm, it’s a piece of tech you can put stuff like pictures and other things into, and then carry it around. And if you want, you can pull them out again and put somewhere else.”

Ken listens raptly, blinking slowly one eye at a time.

Fynch has mercy on him eventually, and says in Hive, “Human crystal-storage”.

The Knight nods his enormous head. Mariko has lost interest in the rune plates and is now attempting to climb the ridges sticking out of the unevenly-polished chitin wall—Fynch freezes in horror once he notices it, but there Ken surprises him again. Without a sound, the Knight walks up to the girl and peels her off the wall, effortlessly lifting her with one hand. Her entire body isn’t taller than the length of his arm. She squeals and then giggles, finally settling in the crook of his elbow, avoiding the worst of the spikes.

Fynch sighs, defeated. “Maybe… let’s just go to our place, okay? We’ve got some leftover Dawning cookies, if you’d like.”

“You still haven’t eaten your Dawning cookies?!” Mariko exclaims in something that is almost offence.

Ken shrugs again.

“Is dead,” he says, then frowns, repeats it under his breath in Hive, and corrects, “Was dead.”

Mariko shakes her head in an over-exaggerated expression of admonishment.

They leave, then, towards the Quagmire, Ken moving with as much effort as if he were carrying a box of tissues and not an eight-year-old child. The girl is so small in his arms, soft and delicate amidst all that chitin; she wiggles in his grasp, head swiveling to take in every detail of the views around her, but he holds her firmly, his other hand preventively wielding his shield.

Fynch follows them, silently watching, and when Mariko points quizzically at something before them and Ken answers her in a mixture of Hive and broken Terran, he feels something very tender curl around his core.

[voraciousvore]

The Half-Blood Giant (23/51)

Chapter 23: Muscles

After Ray picked up Pedro from his first day of work, he escorted him over to the wall so the human could collect his personal effects—at least, the few things he had managed to salvage from his wrecked apartment. Pedro entered his sister’s apartment and started packing his things. His older sister, a tall, dark woman with long black hair, poked her head curiously into his temporary bedroom. 

“Hey, Pedro! What’s going on? Why are you packing all your stuff?” she asked, eyebrows raised. 

“I found a new place,” Pedro informed her. 

“Already? Where?” 

Pedro stopped, his back to her. He knew she wouldn’t be happy about the news. “Um... it’s just a temporary arrangement...” He took a deep breath. “I’m staying with a friend I met on the giant side of town.” He gulped. 

She frowned. “No... you don’t mean... a giant?! After what happened? Pedro! You can’t go over there! Are you telling me you accepted the job over there too? Dios mío...” 

“Yeah...” Pedro didn’t know what else to say, and he didn’t want to argue, so he swiftly shoved the rest of his things in his bag and tried to push past her. She braced herself in the doorframe and pressed her hands into his knobby shoulders. 

“Look. I know you can be stubborn and a fool, so I won’t try to change your mind. Just... be careful, okay?” she implored. 

Pedro nodded, reminded of the multitude of misadventures he already had under his belt. “I will.” 

“And for crying out loud, get yourself a new phone so I can keep in contact with you!”  

Pedro promised he would—since, after being trapped in a storm drain, he didn’t want to go anywhere without one—and rushed out before he could change his mind or let doubts crawl into his brain. He bought a cheap phone before heading back to the giant side of the wall. Ray had waited for him patiently the entire time. He was sitting on the bench and scrolling absently on his phone. At first, he didn’t notice the tiny man at his feet. 

Pedro took the moment to quietly admire him, in all his vastness. Ray shifted slightly, making the wood of the bench and the metal bars creak under his tremendous weight. Pedro had an urge to climb up onto his shoe and scale him like a cliffside, to explore every inch of his colossal body. He figured, after getting kicked, his idea probably wasn’t the safest, when the giant was unaware of his presence. 

He cleared his throat. Ray looked down and his face lit up. “Pedro! I was starting to wonder if you were coming back at all!” He bent over, extending out his enormous hand to the ground and laying it flat. Pedro clambered on and allowed himself to be lifted. His stomach flip-flopped when he saw how high up he was from the ground, but he trusted Ray not to drop him. Ray, sensing his nervousness, brought his hands together for additional support. Pedro relaxed in the cup of his palm as he was rocked back and forth by the giant’s bouncy strides. Before long, they were back at Ray’s house. 

Ray was a bit shy and nervous about having Pedro stay at his house, but exhilarated too. He took Pedro into the living room and gingerly set him down on the couch. “Uh, I’ll be right back. I just need to change out of my uniform and get comfortable and whatnot...” He turned on the TV so Pedro wouldn’t be bored on his own and hurried off.  

When he was out of sight, he briskly worked to clean up his house. He wasn’t expecting company, and since he was living the life of a bachelor, he had neglected to keep his living space tidy. He rounded up his dirty clothes scattered on the floor and tossed them in the hamper. He collected his used dishes and threw them in the dishwasher. Once he was satisfied that his effort was the best he could do in the short time he had, he went into his bedroom to strip off all his police equipment and uniform. He didn’t want to leave his little guest waiting for too long. 

Pedro listened to Ray thundering through the kitchen and halls with curiosity. The giant was clumsy and noisy when he moved around, but Pedro considered him endearing. He surveyed the gargantuan living room with interest. While the furniture was plain and typical, there was one significant difference that stood out to Pedro. Ray had a modest home gym set up, with a weight bench and dumbbells that were likely heavier than a house. Pedro surmised he must be really into fitness. 

Ray returned to the living room, and Pedro’s jaw dropped. Up until now, he had only seen Ray in his police uniform, which covered his body and limbs so he couldn’t see his frame underneath. The giant was built like an ox, with massive thick muscles in his arms and legs that bulged through his shorts and tank top. He had prominent pecs and a rounded belly that strained against his shirt, the product of too many donuts and cinnamon rolls despite his strength exercises. He was hairy too: A forest of black hair sprouted from his limbs and poked out of his tank top from his barrel chest. Pedro had to wipe the drool from his chin. Good God, Ray was hot. 

“What is it?” Ray asked, confused by Pedro’s expression. 

Pedro shook his head. “N-nothing,” he stammered. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I usually exercise after work,” Ray admitted, rubbing his neck. 

“Not at all. I don’t want to interfere. Do your thing,” Pedro managed to utter. He then had the sublime pleasure of watching Ray stretch, his corded limbs unfolding with impressive form. Pedro squirmed in his seat as the giant moved with purpose into dramatic poses, towering over him. He was getting hard just watching. 

Ray picked up one of the massive weights with incomprehensible strength and began to do bicep curls. Pedro couldn’t peel his eyes away from the spectacle. He couldn’t even pretend he was watching the TV. As Ray fell into his routine, he increased the weight he was lifting until he was utilizing his maximum strength. His muscles and veins swelled with blood from the exertion, making him look even bigger than before. His body radiated heat and sweat and grunts. As he got into the zone, becoming more focused with a laser intensity on his workout, he forgot he was being watched. 

Pedro gaped. He was going mad with hot lust. His heart palpitated and his breaths couldn’t stay in his lungs. Oh, the things he wanted to do to this giant man: unspeakable, dirty, spicy things! He couldn’t believe what he was seeing was real, that the mass of flesh, muscle, and raw man stretching hundreds of feet above him wasn’t a phantasm of his wild imagination. Maybe that giant shoe to the chest had actually killed him, and he had died and gone to heaven. If that were the case, Pedro couldn’t complain. He had met his god. 

Ray worked out until he was exhausted, dropping his weights to the ground with a seismic crash. He grabbed a clean towel and wiped down his damp black hair and face, bathed in sweat. He didn’t want to get his body fluids all over his couch, so he flopped down on the floor and leaned against it, shaking the earth beneath him. Pedro bounced on the couch cushion with the vibrations. Ray’s huge, flushed, moist face was close, temptingly close. The natural scent of his body was potent, his aura overpowering. Pedro wanted to rub himself against his face, kiss him, unleash his animal passion on him. He struggled to rein in his urges. 

“Wow, that was amazing,” he gasped, talking more to himself than to Ray. 

“Hm? What?” Ray asked, clueless. He turned his head to look at Pedro, and the tiny man nearly fainted under the gaze of those beautiful blue eyes. Ray was too handsome, too shapely, too perfect to be real. Pedro felt inadequate before this deity of a man. 

“Um...” Pedro was at a loss for words.  

Fortunately, Ray thought perhaps he had just misheard the human. The giant reddened slightly, suddenly self-conscious of how sweaty and smelly he must be. “I need to go take a shower,” he announced, jumping to his feet with a force that almost knocked Pedro flat on his back. “I’ll be right back.” 

Pedro played around with his new phone while he waited for Ray. The giant showered, dressed, and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. By now, his stomach was grumbling, and he needed to feed his little guest too. He wasn’t sure what he could make for a human to eat: something soft, perhaps? He boiled some potatoes to mash them up. He cooked chicken for the main dish. He seemed to recall Joey saying that he made chicken for Eren a lot. He might have to ask Joey for recipes. 

He rejoined Pedro in the living room and they ate dinner together. Ray thought Pedro looked adorable, sitting on a giant dinner plate munching on mashed potatoes with his hands. He apologized for not having human-sized plates and silverware, but Pedro was cheery and didn’t mind in the least. For some reason, Ray imagined dumping gravy on Pedro and mixing him up in the mashed potatoes. Why did he think of that? He swallowed a mouthful of chicken and pushed the intrusive thought out of his mind. What was wrong with him? He’d never thought things like that before around humans. The mental images disturbed him. 

Both Ray and Pedro were tired, so Ray prepared a sleeping space for Pedro, as best as he could manage. He set a pillow on the floor of the living room, with a scrap of cloth for a blanket. He didn’t want to leave Pedro on the couch, since the human would have no way of getting down. He wanted to tuck Pedro in and kiss him goodnight, but he held back. He retired to his own bedroom and laid down. 

Despite his fatigue, Ray stayed awake for a while, staring up at the shadows crawling over the ceiling as cars drove past his house. He was experiencing feelings in his heart that he hadn’t encountered in a long time. He wanted to hold Pedro up against his body and keep him safe. He wanted to love again. He suspected, from how Pedro looked at him, that he felt the same way. He hoped so. 

He eventually nodded off, with dreams as light and fluffy as clouds. He woke up early, bathed in the deep blue of pre-dawn. Ray got up and dressed in his workout clothes again. He tried to move quietly as he exited his bedroom and checked on Pedro. The cute little human was fast asleep, sprawled out on his back and snoring. Ray smiled and left the house for his usual morning jog. When he returned, Pedro was awake, with that same silly expression of wonder he always seemed to have plastered on his face. 

“Wow, you really do work out a lot, don’t you?” Pedro remarked. 

“Yeah, it’s just a hobby of mine that I enjoy,” Ray answered after chugging a big swig of water. “If I didn’t have a love for sweet things, I probably would be more toned.” He laughed and slapped his substantial belly, which quivered like jello. “I’m going to have to shower again.” He turned to leave, but Pedro stopped him. 

“Wait, I need to get cleaned up too,” he pointed out. Ray picked up the little guy in his hand, carried him over to the sink, and filled it up with warm water for a bath, just like he did yesterday. Ray left to give him some privacy. Pedro was bold, and almost called him back to tell him he didn’t have to go, but the words caught in his throat. He thought about how puny and unimpressive he must look to the giant. Ray, with his handsome, muscular body, like a mighty statue sculpted from the finest marble, and all the more majestic with his grand size, was the sexiest man he had ever laid eyes on. What could Pedro possibly have to offer this gigantic Adonis? He was unworthy and inadequate, with his squiggly little limbs and short stature. He was nothing compared to him. He soaked in his bath with melancholy. 

Ray noticed Pedro seemed dejected out of the blue, but he didn’t know why. Maybe he was nervous about going to work? Ray gave him words of encouragement and offered to make Pedro some breakfast, but the human politely declined. He cheered up somewhat when Ray carried him to the school. Ray set him down on the floor in front of his office and bid him adieu. He strolled off to the police station to start his day, but his mind was on Pedro, to the point where he couldn’t even focus on the morning meeting. He was on autopilot as he joined Joey in the police cruiser. Joey drove around town, waiting for a call, with Ray deep in thought. 

“Hello? Ray? Earth to Ray?” Joey interrupted his thoughts, waving his hand in front of his face. “You haven’t responded or said a word to me all morning! What’s going on with you?” 

“Oh, uh, just tired,” Ray lied, rubbing his forehead. 

“Well, no wonder! You didn’t have your usual coffee or donuts this morning!” 

Ray looked down and self-consciously jiggled his gut a bit with his hands. “Maybe I should lay off for a while.” 

Joey let out an exaggerated gasp. “Ray! Are you going on a diet? You, of all people? I refuse to believe it! What’s gotten into you?” he teased with a smirk.  

“I dunno. Maybe.” Ray shrugged. 

A mischievous grin split open Joey’s face. “I know what’s gotten into you.” He playfully punched Ray’s shoulder. “Somebody’s got a little crush!” 

Ray’s cheeks blistered, but he couldn’t stop a smile from creeping over his lips as he thought about Pedro. “Is it that obvious?” 

“I know you all too well, Ray. I can read you like a book. Though, you’re more of a picture book than a novel,” Joey jested as he pushed up his glasses. “Now, there’s some things you should know about dating a human. I’ll tell you all about it. Give you ‘the talk.’” He laughed. 

Ray listened with interest as Joey prattled on about his relationship with Eren. He had questions, after all, about how to make a human more comfortable in his home. Joey and Ray were good buddies, so Joey wasn’t as shy about sharing some of the more intimate details, enough to make Ray turn pink a few times as he imagined doing certain... things to Pedro. Ray drained of color, however, when Joey described his recent adventure of eating Eren willingly for the first time. His own experience of swallowing a human unaware was still fresh in his mind. 

“Wait, you did that to Eren?!” Ray choked incredulously. 

“Yeah. She wanted it, believe it or not,” Joey elaborated. “And I found... um... having a human inside your stomach, it’s actually very... intimate. Sexually stimulating, even.” His chocolate eyes became distant and dreamy. “It was a new experience for me, that’s for sure. But I had been fantasizing about it for a while, ever since I first had a taste of eating her.” His face twisted up a bit at the memory of Trent, but he recovered quickly. “I don’t know, I guess it’s a primal hunger that develops after you’ve eaten or tasted a human for the first time. But it’s a form of intimacy that is unique, since you wouldn’t be able to do that with a giant or giantess.” 

“That makes sense.” Ray had a moment of revelation. He had ingested a human. She was delicious, better than any donut or snack. And now... he wanted more. He thought about sweet, innocent Pedro and felt a little sick inside. What would Pedro think of this newfound desire? 

Chapter 24

Chapter 1

[imptwins]

Whoah, people are pushing ultra-restrictive policy that has precisely zero empirical evidence of helping anyone, at all, ever, under the guise of 'protecting the children,' which inevitably gets co-opted by people who just generally have a hard-on for surveillance, authoritarianism, and puritanism? Where have I heard that one before? Look, I'm not trying to twist the meaning of this, it's way bigger than the 'problematic fiction' argument. But currently that's my niche, so I'm gonna speak to it from that lens. If you think this is a massive simplification that is enormously unimportant compared to the big picture: yes. Correct. If it ain't relevant to you then just move on. Censorship sucks. It's not the right way to deal with basically anything; the only kind of media that should be outright banned is media that *directly* involves harm to real people, and even *that* is a minefield of overlapping legislative needs that can be exploited by these kind of people. Basically: total bans need to be treated as an absolute last resort reserved only for material that *directly* harms people, and they require a mind-boggling degree of refinement to make them as close to unexploitable as possible. And, beyond that, the response is *community* effort. Hateful media shouldn't be banned, the endgame is a society that is well informed enough to know what sucks and so there's no demand for it. Ever-irrelevant bigots fading further and further into the background as more and more people learn real and genuine compassion and empathy. You shouldn't need to ban swastikas; what you need to do is create a community that knows why they shouldn't be using them. I know y'all think you're on the right side of history. And I get it: humanity has a long-ingrained habit of exploitation and abuse. Things like rape, child abuse, dehumanization, and war stain human history for as long as it's been documented. Billions before us have tried to hack away at our instincts around this stuff and, tragically, billions more probably will before we fix it, if we ever even do. It would require enormous changes to the way we think and act. I understand becoming so incensed about the issue that you start getting desperate for black-and-white answers, a nice simple 'if we remove anything that depicts it, that'll stop people from wanting to do it'. I've straight up been there. But at the end of the day? This is what your efforts will amount to. It doesn't matter how good your intentions are, and it doesn't matter if you think 'we're not like those OTHER people who are driven by [motivation], we just want to actually get rid of [bad thing]!' Because among every group, whether it's conservative-religious or whatever you want to call this more modern queer-tinged twist on it, the end result will be the same. Oppressive, invasive surveillance legislation. And even if you don't support this; you feed it. Politicians do this because they know they have barely enough support to ram it through. And most of that support is corporations. The support of weird queer puritans played a huge part when tumblr first did this; a lot of people mistakenly cheered for it, then were outraged when things they deemed as okay got banned too. The decision of what is "indecent" should never be left up to corporations, or organizations, or legislation. The only person who can decide what is too much for your eyes is you, and the only method of banning things should be through your own damn blacklist. "Bad people who like bad thing like this thing" will never be a good metric, because if you ban everything else they'll just be getting off to goddamn clothes magazines. Seriously, I wish every anti would take a good, long look at legislation like this, and see their reflection in it, see the way that their exact sentiments are echoed. Y'all empower this junk whether you want to or not. I'm begging you to grow up and look at where your own damn feet are leading you.

URGENT: 🚨🚨EARN IT ACT IS BACK IN THE SENATE 🚨🚨 TUMBLR’S NSFW BAN HITTING THE ENTIRE INTERNET THIS SUMMER 2023

April 28, 2023

I’m so sorry for the long post but please please please pay attention and spread this

What is the EARN IT Act?

The EARN IT Act (s. 1207) has been roundly condemned by nearly every major LGBTQ+ advocacy and human rights organization in the country.

This is the third time the Senate has been trying to force this through, and I talked about it last year. It is a bill that claims "protects children and victims against CSAM" by creating an unelected and politically appointed national commission of law enforcement specialists to dictate "best practices" that websites all across the nation will be forced to follow. (Keep in mind, most websites in the world are created in the US, so this has global ramifications). These "best practices" would include killing encryption so that any law enforcement can scan and see every single message, dm, photo, cloud storage, data, and any website you have every so much as glanced at. Contrary to popular belief, no they actually can't already do that. These "best practices" also create new laws for "removing CSAM" online, leading to mass censorship of non-CSAM content like what happened to tumblr. Keep in mind that groups like NCOSE, an anti-LGBT hate group, will be allowed on this commission. If websites don't follow these best practices, they lose their Section 230 protections, leading to mass censorship either way.

Section 230 is foundational to modern online communications. It's the entire reason social media exists. It grants legal protection to users and websites, and says that websites aren't responsible for what users upload online unless it's criminal. Without Section 230, websites are at the mercy of whatever bullshit regulatory laws any and every US state passes. Imagine if Texas and Florida were allowed to say what you can and can't publish and access online. That is what will happen if EARN IT passes. (For context, Trump wanted to get rid of Section 230 because he knew it would lead to mass govt surveillance and censorship of minorities online.)

This is really not a drill. Anyone who makes or consume anything “adult” and LGBT online has to be prepared to fight Sen. Blumenthal’s EARN IT Act, brought back from the grave by a bipartisan consensus to destroy Section 230. If this bill passes, we’re going to see most, if not all, adult content and accounts removed from mainstream platforms. This will include anything related to LGBT content, including SFW fanfiction, for example. Youtube, Twitter, Reddit, Tiktok, Tumblr, all of them will be completely gutted of anything related to LGBT content, abortion healthcare, resources for victims of any type of abuse, etc. It is a right-wing fascists wet dream, which is why NCOSE is behind this bill and why another name for this bill is named in reference to NCOSE.

NCOSE used to be named Morality in Media, and has rebranded into an "anti-trafficking" organization. They are a hate group that has made millions off of being "against trafficking" while helping almost no victims and pushing for homophobic laws globally. They have successfully pushing the idea that any form of sexual expression, including talking about HEALTH, leads to sex trafficking. That's how SESTA passed. Their goal is to eliminate all sex, anything gay, and everything that goes against their idea of ‘God’ from the internet and hyper disney-fy and sanitize it. This is a highly coordinated attack on multiple fronts.

The EARN IT Act will lead to mass online censorship and surveillance. Platforms will be forced to scan their users’ communications and censor all sex-related content, including sex education, literally anything lgbt, transgender or non-binary education and support systems, aything related to abortion, and sex worker communication according to the ACLU. All this in the name of “protecting kids” and “fighting CSAM”, both of which the bill does nothing of the sort. In fact it makes fighting CSEM even harder.

EARN IT will open the way for politicians to define the category of “pornography" as they — or the lobbies that fund them — please. The same way that right-wing groups have successfully banned books about race and LGBT, are banning trans people from existing, all under the guise of protecting children from "grooming and exploitation", is how they will successfully censor the internet.

As long as state legislatures can tie in "fighting CSAM" to their bullshit laws, they can use EARN IT to censor and surveill whatever they want.

This is already a nightmare enough. But the bill also DESTROYS ENCRYPTION, you know, the thing protecting literally anyone or any govt entity from going into your private messages and emails and anything on your devices and spying on you.

This bill is going to finish what FOSTA/SESTA started. And that should terrify you.

Senator Blumenthal (Same guy who said ‘Facebook should ban finsta’) pushed this bill all of 2020, literally every activist (There were more than half a million signatures on this site opposing this act!) pushed hard to stop this bill. Now he brings it back, doesn’t show the text of the bill until hours later, and it’s WORSE. Instead of fixing literally anything in the bill that might actually protect kids online, Bluemnthal is hoping to fast track this and shove it through, hoping to get little media attention other than propaganda of “protecting kids” to support this shitty legislation that will harm kids. Blumental doesn't care about protecting anyone, and only wants his name in headlines.

It will make CSAM much much worse.

One of the many reasons this bill is so dangerous: It totally misunderstands how Section 230 works, and in doing so (as with FOSTA) it is likely to make the very real problem of CSAM worse, not better. Section 230 gives companies the flexibility to try different approaches to dealing with various content moderation challenges. It allows for greater and greater experimentation and adjustments as they learn what works – without fear of liability for any “failure.” Removing Section 230 protections does the opposite. It says if you do anything, you may face crippling legal liability. This actually makes companies less willing to do anything that involves trying to seek out, take down, and report CSAM because of the greatly increased liability that comes with admitting that there is CSAM on your platform to search for and deal with. This liability would allow anyone for any reason to sue any platform they want, suing smaller ones out of existence. Look at what is happening right now with book bans across the nation with far right groups. This is going to happen to the internet if this bill passes.

(Remember, the state department released a report in December 2021 recommending that the government crack down on “obscenity” as hard the Reagan Administration did. If this bill passes, it could easily go way beyond shit red states are currently trying. It is a goldmine for the fascist right that is currently in the middle of banning every book that talks about race and sexuality across the US.)

The reason these bills keep showing up is because there is this false lie spread by organizations like NCOSE that platforms do nothing about CSEM online. However, platforms are already liable for child sexual exploitation under federal law. Tech companies sent more than 45 million+ instances of CSAM to the DOJ in 2019 alone, most of which they declined to investigate. This shows that platforms are actually doing everything in their power already to stop CSEM by following already existing laws. The Earn It Act includes zero resources for proven investigation or prevention programs. If Senator Bluementhal actually cared about protecting youth, why wouldn’t he include anything to actually protect them in his shitty horrible bill? EARN IT is actually likely to make prosecuting child molesters more difficult since evidence collected this way likely violates the Fourth Amendment and would be inadmissible in court.

I don’t know why so many Senators are eager to cosponsor the “make child pornography worse” bill, but here we are.

HOW TO FIGHT BACK

EARN IT Act was introduced just two weeks ago and is already being fast-tracked. It will be marked up the week of May 1st and head to the Senate floor immediately after. If there is no loud and consistent opposition, it will be law by JUNE! Most bills never go to markup, so this means they are putting pressure to move this through. There are already 20 co-sponsors, a fifth of the entire Senate. This is an uphill battle and it is very much all hands on deck.

CALL YOUR REPRESENTATIVES.

This website takes you to your Senator / House members contact info. EMAIL, MESSAGE, SEND LETTERS, CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL. Calling is the BEST way to get a message through. Get your family and friends to send calls too. This is literally the end of free speech online.

(202) 224-3121 connects you to the congressional hotline. Here is a call script if you don't know what to say. Call them every day. Even on the weekends, leaving voicemails are fine.

2. Sign these petitions!

Link to Petition 1

Link to Petition 2

3. SPREAD THE WORD ONLINE

If you have any social media, spread this online. One of the best ways we fought back against this last year was MASSIVE spread online. Tiktok, reddit, twitter, discord, whatever means you have at least mention it. We could see most social media die out by this fall if we don't fight back.

Here is a linktree with more information on this bill including a masterpost of articles, the links to petitions, and the call script.

DISCORD LINK IF YOU WANT TO HELP FIGHT IT

TLDR: The EARN IT Act will lead to online censorship of any and all adult & lgbt content across the entire internet, open the floodgates to mass surveillance the likes which we haven’t seen before, lead to much more CSEM being distributed online, and destroy encryption. Call 202-224-3121 to connect to your house and senate representative and tell them to VOTE NO on this bill that does not protect anyone and harms everyone.

[epigstolary]

Expressions

There’s a broad range of expressions you’ll get used to seeing on your feedee’s face as they progress along their gaining journey. I know firsthand; I’ve gone through several. I enjoy the variety but, more than anything, I enjoy seeing how they change over time as each gainer makes their peace with the fast-approaching inevitable.

Pleasure always comes first — the flushed exhilaration of a new fatty, finally getting to live their long-cherished and often deeply hidden dream of letting go, eating whatever they want, and getting as fat as they possibly can. The look of pure satisfaction as they grasp a rounded belly packed with food, feeling themself getting fuller and bigger — feeling, after a while, a flabby paunch starting to come in, the belly staying round and prominent even when they haven’t eaten a full meal. Bliss.

It isn’t usually too long after the initial high that another expression becomes more common: desire. That look of animalistic possessiveness whenever something delicious and fattening comes into view — pizza, mac ‘n cheese, burgers, barbecue, pasta, cake, ice cream, you name it. They can’t help themselves; they have to have it. They go for their quarry with a singular focus, their pudgy hands and arms reaching out for whatever it is they want to stuff into their waiting gullet. Over time, desire turns to greed, their double chin and bingo wings jiggling as they add yet another plate of food to their out-of-control bulk.

Then relaxation gets added into the mix. Having indulged themself to the point of having a few hundred extra pounds now, the natural inclination is to take it easy — it’s hard work being this fat, they think. Hands folded across the now enormous belly spilling well into their lap, legs with rolls of fat the size of a beer belly perched on a footstool, side rolls filling and overflowing their easy chair, they sit back with plenty of snacks and plenty to watch on tv. It’s just as well they should be allowed their dozing stupor; the fewer calories they burn, the quicker they can pack more fat onto their frame.

Perhaps not surprisingly, exhaustion tends to follow — the tired look of someone who has to haul the equivalent weight of three people around every single time they move. Who has trouble getting a decent night’s sleep or a deep breath even with their CPAP on hand. Who would like to slow down and take it easy for a while, but feels bad at seeing all the food you’re cooking and snacks you’re making go to waste. It may be hard work being as fat as they are, but it’s even harder work getting fatter as fat as they are.

At about this point, frustration becomes the dominant expression. Anyone would be frustrated, I’m sure, having to negotiate moving around a near half-ton body all day, every day. Trying to sit up, trying to roll over, using every bit of strength to stand up, plodding pathetically from one room to another, trying to set the uncontrollable cascade of fat covering their body down in something resembling gracefulness, and only partially succeeding — this is their reality, every day. They’re confronted repeatedly with all the things they’re too fat and heavy to do anymore, like drive a car, fit in a car, walk out to the car, fit into clothes, fit through doorways; those kinds of things. At the same time, they’re driven by a continual, gnawing hunger — a need for that next meal or plate or snack like they’ve never felt before. They want to put down the fork, try to get back into control again, master that hunger getting them plumper by the day. But they never seem to manage.

Which leads to the next expression: fear, with maybe a little indignation mixed in for good measure. They realize what’s happening to them, how out of control they are and how their last remnants of autonomy over their body are slipping away with each click of the rising scale. They realize that once they can’t walk, can’t move, can’t do anything but lay back and take in more food, they’re into the last act of this dietary misadventure. Never mind that they doomed themself to this a long time ago and confirmed their fate with bite after fattening bite; it was never real to them until the pile of lard their body has become has them pinned to where they last happened to sit or lay down, there to remain until some kind soul helps them struggle to their bloated feet.

Inevitably, panic follows sooner or later. It may be from the claustrophobia of having over a thousand pounds of dense, weighty, expanding fat crushing their frame and organs. It may be from noticing that no matter how much slop gets forced down their gullet, they’re never satisfied, never close to full, will never be able to stop the tremendous hunger they’ve created no matter how fat they get trying. It may be from realizing, now that you can finally drop your mask, how this was the plan all along, getting them fatter than any human has any business being, and getting off on seeing how much further they can go. It never gets old, seeing them wallow around, trying to move as if their body weren’t a living waterbed, flapping their massive flab-encased arms and engorged legs in some pathetic attempt to get up and get away. It doesn’t take long before they grow red-faced and exhausted from the effort, of course; and I can never resist fucking their fat rolls at this, their moment of ultimate dread and horror at the overfed disaster they’ve become.

But the expression that is invariably my favorite is resignation. That distant, frowning, vacant look that peers out from an overinflated face sitting atop a mountain of soft, wobbling flesh. The expression of someone who understands that this is all there is, and all there ever will be again: eating, fucking, growing. A slow drowning amidst the rising tide of lard, the relentless storm surge of pound after pound packing into their floundering body, and the tsunami of the… well, the inevitable conclusion they will soon experience, as have all their predecessors. But for now, they suck down their gainer shake dispassionately, letting their belly flow over their bloated ankles to press harder and harder against their feet, absently rubbing the topmost bank of side rolls at the far extreme of their reach, and heaving their blobby distended chest in and out in an effort to stay somewhat lucid for a few more minutes. Resigned to that fact that, in rather a shorter time than they might wish, their body will be so filled with goo and choked with fat that they’ll be left with no expression at all.

[cookiesuga55]

People say they look like their pets...

Jungkook is head over heels in love with his new dog. He's so cute and playful and adds so much joy into his life. Except, Jungkook has a bit of an issue with self-control.

As in he doesn't have any. It's pretty apparent by how big he is.

It doesn't take long for him to accidentally make his new puppy chubby by feeding him scraps all the time from his own enormous meals. He just can't resist those big pleading puppy eyes and the little cute nose twitches. His dog Bahm is so good and JK wants to reward him for staying in his spot on the designated doggy bed. He's picking up his training so well and Jungkook knows that rewarding good behavior is so much more important than correcting bad behavior. A few scraps here and there can't hurt, right? He gives his puppy so many treats for learning tricks and not barking at the mailman, that at his next visit to the vet, they tell him that his dog is concerningly overweight. Jungkook knows that they also gave him that look that always makes his cheeks heat up and his insides squirm with tingles of embarrassed pleasure. It's that look of 'no wonder his pet is overweight, just look at the owner.' It always makes him need to shove a whole gallon of ice cream into his mouth the second he gets home.

Gaining is by far his favorite thing... sensation? Pastime? Can gaining weight be called a hobby? Either way, Jungkook loves fattening himself up, but he does start to feel guilty when he realizes just how chubby his little puppy is, as Bahm is staring up at him with huge brown eyes begging for food from his plate.

"I'm sorry Bahmi," he pats his puppy's chubby rump, "the vet said I'm not allowed to give you human food anymore." Bam whimpers and nudges his nose into Jungkook's large calf, turning on the cuteness even more by flopping his ears and making Jungkook's heart break at those huge pleading eyes. He gives him a piece of meat from his plate and his broken heart instantly mends as his dog wags his tail and kisses his hand, thanking him. However, it's only a second before he's back to begging and asking for more. Jungkook can't resist, he's just so damn cute.

"You greedy little pup," he giggles as he turns back to his own plate, smiling at all of the delicious heavy food in front of him. His mouth waters in anticipation, "...just like dad." He places a hand on his own substantial belly, knowing that after he finishes all of this, he'll lay down on the floor and let his dog rest on his tummy like a pillow. Bahm has been doing that more, recently, and Jungkook finds it so cute how his fattened belly is soft enough that his puppy wants to snuggle with him. He makes Bahm sit back on his doggy bed and wait patiently as Jungkook stuffs as much food into himself as he wants, until he's full and bloated and feels like there's an entire feast sitting inside of him. He'll never stop eating, no matter what his doctor says, but he can surely make more of an effort to keep his pet healthy and happy. Once he's finished, he hauls himself up to go and give his dog love. He restrains himself and gives Bahm only one treat instead of three for being so good. He scratches behind his ears and cooes at his new best friend as he plops down on the floor, letting his puppy crawl all over him and lick his face while his tail wags with overwhelmed excitement. Jungkook laughs and lays back. His puppy eventually settles down and snuggles into him, flopping on Jungkook's warm belly. Bahm's eyes droop as Jungkook pets his favorite spots behind his ears and on his chin. "You're so sweet, little Bahmi," he giggles as his dog gives his wrist a tiny sleepy lick, cozy in the sunshine.

Jungkook decides that he should take a leaf out of Bahm's book and enjoy his warm belly too by taking a nap in the sun, right here.