#and seems to be a possible explaination for some things

[tucsonhorse]

I am autistic and I find that being precise is very important to me. With some people I will find myself doing things like sharing more detail about something someone is talking about or letting them know about a common misconception or similar and they seem to get really annoyed about it. And like I try to be nice about it and only correct the big things, but some people get mad if I say anything.

I don't think you're being a contrarian like your sibling, I've dealt with people like that before and it's annoying and in my experience most people avoid them, not to mention lots more people complain about it. I think these specific people are saying you're always picking a fight because they see anything other than complete agreement/acceptance of what they're saying as an argument. That's a common thing with people who are more authoritarian types, especially if they are dealing with someone that they think they do or should have authority over.

When it comes to talking a lot I see two possible reasons. First is anxiety. Autistics, especially late diagnosed autistics, are often misunderstood. So we develop a coping mechanism of trying to explain every nuance of what we mean and cover every possible misconception in order to avoid being misunderstood. This means we tend to go on at length (much like my reply here...), even more so if we're anxious or dealing with someone who has previously criticised or misunderstood us.

My second thought is if you're talking about a special interest. From the context it doesn't sound like that's what's happening in the situations you're talking about, especially since you don't want to be talking.

I can't tell you why your sibling is like this. I can tell you that my mom's whole family is like that and they all seem to enjoy "discussing" things with one another. I don't understand it and most of the rest of us hate when they do it, but my mom and certain of her siblings (and her father when he was alive) could argue for hours and clear out a whole house as the rest of us ran away from it.

To stop talking a lot if it's from anxiety takes practice. You start by trying to recognize when you're doing it, which can be tough. Once you're recognizing it you can work on stopping yourself when you notice it happening and work on becoming comfortable with the idea of being misunderstood so that you don't feel the urge to explain so in depth.

As for telling the difference between a conversation and an argument, that's a lot harder in my experience. Some of it is recognizing tone of voice and if the person's voice is getting tight/tense then I assume that they think I'm arguing (this requires being able to perceive tone of voice). If that happens I will stop adding information or disagreeing with them at all and usually try to exit the conversation as soon as I can. If I still want/need to add information I'll try starting with phrases like "I totally agree, and also..." to make it explicit that I am agreeing with them rather than arguing. And with people who seem to always think I'm arguing I will basically stop sharing any information with them. When I feel the urge to correct them or add context I'll ask myself if their lack of knowledge/incorrect knowledge is or is likely to cause genuine harm to themself or others and if the answer is no then I just don't say anything.

Question that I suspect is autism related

I have, on more than one occasion over multiple decades, been told that I “need to have the last word” and that I “have a response for everything”.

Additionally and in a similar vein, I’ve been told that “everything is an argument with you” and I “always have to say something”.

When I was a little kid I was bad at conversations. People said stuff I had no opinion on or didn’t need follow-up and so I wouldn’t answer and they’d get bored. And eventually through trial and error I figured out that if someone said something to me, all I had to do was say something related back, and the interaction could go on as long as it needed to.

But then as a teen- and now as an adult- a number of people (mostly people I’ve found to be very delicate and particular about things in a sort of need-to-be-in-control authoritarian way) have expressed the identical observation about how I naturally try to converse, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

And the thing is, I have a sibling that talks like this too. We bicker all the time. He changes his own opinions seemingly at a whim for the purpose of being contrary, and it’s impossible to make a statement or observation out loud without him contradicting it, and even when he is demonstrably, factually wrong about something, he will dig his heels into the dirt and defend his stance to the grave.

And like. I hear myself responding, or adding on to people’s comments, but I don’t hear the ‘arguing’ they describe, or the contrarian habits of my sibling. Even when I’m paying attention and being bery careful not to follow up too much or speak too often or disagree or correct something that isn’t important, I get called out for “picking a fight”. They say something, I answer, they reply, I continue, then seemingly out of nowhere they snap. I think everything’s fine until suddenly it isn’t.

And so I guess my question is, how can you tell if you’re a contrary sort of person? How can you tell when to respond or follow up on a person’s statement and how do you know when to leave it in silence? Does everybody see me this way, and is it only people who are already short-tempered who are willing to say it?

I honestly don’t really have that much to say, and half the time I don’t even really want to talk at all, but I’ve been told countless times that I “just seem to like the sound of your own voice” and have to just be “tuned out after a while”. So if it isn’t necessary and I don’t even want to, why am I doing it?

Is there a reason I’m like this? Why is my sibling like this? How do I stop talking when there’s nothing to say, and how can I tell the difference between a conversation and an argument before the other person visibly snaps?

I’m a full grown adult

[artbyblastweave]

I have a soft-spot for the original Age of Apocalypse maxiseries from the 90s. One beat that's stuck with me is that after the X-Men in the bad timeline learn that their current apocalyptically-bad situation is the result of time travelers fucking everything up, they belatedly realize that this explains Apocalypse's regime's apparent unspoken policy of murdering any mutant who exhibits time travel powers- he's fully aware of how he himself was able to come to power, and he's pulling up the ladder behind him. News to us, but for the X-Men it's a known pattern about their world abruptly being contextualized.

This, in turn, reminds me of the noted-in-universe quirks of Worm's power system- no kitchen-sink psychics in the classic mold, no healing that isn't the byproduct of something else, everything having some combat application no matter what- and the creeping reveal that although none of the speculation as to why all of these limits on the impossible exist is totally accurate, absolutely none of it is an accident and none of it means anything good. And to an extent I'm thinking about something I still enjoy about the Mistborn series all these years later, where a significant chunk of the unrevealed magic system feels at least somewhat predictable as an inverse or mirror of what's shown to exist from the word go- suppresed by the powers that be for the sake of keeping the wheels on the tyranny wagon.

Overall I'm thinking about the use of quietly absent powersets to characterize a setting, and I guess an interesting follow-up question to that is how aggressively you can draw attention to what's considered "absent" in-universe. If you telegraph too hard that something is thought impossible, then yeah, you're telegraphing that it probably is possible and we're gonna find out about it later. In AoA there's no build-up to the reveal that all the time-travelling characters have been eliminated even though that's somewhat known already in-universe- It's just something mentioned in the course of planning, closing off a fast way to resolve the entire plot with ease. I'm wondering if you could run a kitchen-sink pastiche setting for just long enough for it to become clear that some obvious expected element of the genre arbitrarily doesn't seem to be there, or if that kind of thing would simply take too much runtime to establish purely through negation.

[yuurei20]

Unique Magic / Signature Spell Compilation: Azul Ashengrotto

Azul’s unique magic, It’s a Deal (hidden meaning: The Golden Contract) is a “taboo” magic that “sucks every power out of someone if it’s not channeled through a contract.”

Azul does not need the scrolls in order to cast his unique magic: he needs them to limit it, as it is too strong for him to wield on his own.

In Book 3 Leona explains that Azul’s unique magic “enables the caster to take one power from a target if that target signs the scroll,” but he later learns that he was wrong and that the scrolls are merely the filter than enable Azul to control himself.

Leona further explains, “in the event of a contract breach, the breacher is compelled to obey Azul’s every command to a T,” and this seems accurate, with Azul turning 225 NRC students who fail to fulfill their contracts into servants in Book 3.

When Azul takes a special talent and/or magical power for collateral, “it’s sealed inside the contract and made available for Azul to use as it suits him.” Jack accuses Azul of cheating by using powers swiped from others, but Ruggie assures him that he isn’t: “As far as signature spells go, his is crazy high-level. Guy’s gotta have some chops to pull something like that off.”

We see examples of what might be abilities that Azul has acquired from other people via his contracts, such as an impressive singing voice, the ability to speak with and understand animals and advanced potion-brewing skills.

Leona says that the contracts last as long as the special scrolls he uses in order to limit his powers exist, and Azul himself emphasizes multiple times that they are invulnerable.

When students attempt to so much as touch a contract they are electrocuted, with Azul saying, “they’re rigged to jolt anyone who touched them aside from myself.”

Leona says, “all magic’s got a loophole,” “there is no such thing as a spell that’s completely flawless” and that the idea that Azul’s contracts are unbreakable is preposterous, and he is proven correct: he is able to destroy Azul’s entire collection of contracts with his own unique magic, explaining, “it looked like they were impervious to damage only under specific conditions. Namely, either being in the VIP room, or being in your hands…the contract scrolls themselves are no stronger than any other sheet of paper.”

While Azul does not take the destruction of his contracts in Book 3 very well (it drives him to overblot), there are other examples in the game where he destroys contracts and does not seem to suffer any side effects.

Unique Magic Design: We technically see the process of Azul crafting his unique magic through sheer effort via a flashback: unlike Riddle, who seems to have worked for his UM to please his mother, and Leona and Idia, who were born with their magics, Azul seems to have been motivated by a desire to enact revenge on those who bullied him as a child.

But while Azul seems to have designed the spell himself it’s possible that he didn’t know he was creating what would become his own unique magic at the time. While unconfirmed, he may have wanted a spell–any spell–to take talent from others, and it becoming his unique magic was possibly an unintentional bonus.

Limitations: During Glorious Masquerade Jamil teases Azul with, “I doubt a certain someone could get plants to sign a contract for his signature spell." As Azul does not need the contracts in order to cast the spell, just to control it, it is possibly still unclear if he can or cannot cast his unique magic on things that cannot give their consent (maybe not without overblotting?).

In-Game Examples: Jade and Floyd describe examples of Azul’s unique magic from before they enrolled at NRC, with one mermaid losing weight in exchange for giving up their singing voice and another mermaid getting beautiful hair but losing their tailfin.

Other examples from the game include Azul contracting with the prefect in Book 3 to try and get them to acquire a photo from an elementary school trip on display at a museum in exchange for freeing his 225 student servants (including Ace, Deuce and Grim), taking Ramshackle Dorm as collateral.

He also contracts with Floyd, taking Floyd’s unique magic as collateral while granting him a deeper voice. Azul also contracts with Deuce, taking his unique magic and using it to strike Rollo in exchange.

There is a conversation in a vignette where he discusses providing Vil with moisturizer in exchange for poisonous plants from Vil, and while Vil does sign a contract there is no talk of collateral, so this may have been a normal exchange of favors between two Housewardens rather than a unique-magic-enforced arrangement?

[cybermannete]

smoke break. - jax (suggestive)

(yall i think we moved on too fast by how SCRUMPTIOUS he looked in this episode. also i KNOW i said nsfw would be rare for TADC but.. a bitch is ovulating.)

contains: suggestive talk, making out, slacking off during work, jax being a shit, established relationship

The rough polyester of the Spudsy's uniform brushed against your skin uncomfortably, making you wince and itch at your neck and back. The smell of greasy fast food practically destroyed your nostrils, and you knew you'd never get the annoying sound of beeping out of your head for days after this.

Ragatha seemed to high off of her mind, which made you snicker at some of the things she was saying. Pomni was learning to enjoy the wonderful world of customer service, Gangle was.. it was hard to explain what Gangle was going through, you could just tell she wasn't herself. And Jax..

You got what you expected from him, only he seemed so much more irritable. Half of the time, he didn't have a fun quip or insult to follow up with his normal monotone humor. Normally, you'd let him have his space and let him approach you.

You were in charge of to go orders, calling out order numbers and names. Meanwhile, Jax worked the drive thru as well as the drink station. Sometimes you'd turn around and check on him, making sure he was doing okay. Of course, he would just give you a thumbs up.

Plus you weren't gonna lie, he looked damn good in that uniform. Black was a very good look on him.

Evening began to set in, which meant clock out time was slowly approaching. The restaurant was running slow, and everyone was working their closing duties for the night. Gangle was on the computer in the manager's office running numbers, Pomni was closing the register, and Ragatha and Zooble were cleaning up the kitchen.

You perked up the minute you heard Jax's voice call out from his position by the drive thru window. "Goin' on a smoke break." He grabbed his hat and tossed it off to the side, and he had made his way to you. He grabbed your arm, leaning in and muttering. "Supply closet. Don't keep me waiting."

Your cheeks heated, and your heart did a small flutter. But like a lost puppy, you turned and followed behind him, making sure no one was watching you. The last thing you needed was anyone seeing you and Jax go off to somewhere quiet and secluded.

You stepped into the cramped supply closet, gazing at all the cleaning supplies, napkins, straws, brown bags, etc. Jax was standing with his arms crossed against one of the shelves. Once you closed the door, he muttered. "C'mere." He tugged you closer to him, his breathing next to your ear. Before you knew it, you and him were kissing. He gripped onto you tightly, his kisses were just as rough and demanding.

It caught you so off guard that you almost fell back. A gasp left you, but your hands rested on the scratchy fabric of his shirt. He never kissed you like this out of nowhere. It was suffocating but in the best way possible. Even when you tried to pull away, he was right back to kissing you, tugging you forward desperately and going back to kissing you breathless.

"Jax-" You started, before Jax cut you off.

"Look, just stop talking." He commanded in a breathless voice. His sore aching muscles from being on his feet for hours seemed to relax in your presence. "Just- Stop."

Before you knew it, you were pressed back against the wall, Jax's kisses on your lips growing hungrier and hungrier. You were his stress reliever. He was exhausted, irritated, and all he wanted was to have you all to himself for this fifteen minute "smoke break".

You pulled away as Jax frantically tried to unbuckle the belt of your uniform. "Whoa- H-Hey what're you-"

As Jax lowered himself down onto his knees in front of you, tugging down your pants, he gave you his familiar shit eating grin. "What? I still got 10 minutes."

[hikariyaps]

pairings

word count ☆ 1.2k starring ☆ second year yuta x first year fem!reader content ☆ pure fluff, some mention of injury. a/n ☆ based of request by @yukiiyapper . loved writing this 🫶🏻

yuta okkotsu didn't expect there to be any difference after coming back from a long mission. but what he really didn't expect was another first year student.

he hasn't met you yet, having only arrived two days back and having spent the entirety of his time back at jujutsu high rotting in his dorm. (it was well deserved rest) but the amount of times you'd been mentioned in conversations was starting to get to him, maybe just a tiny bit.

but everything is so clear when he meets you. you were like a ray of sunshine, it was practically impossible to not like you. he might be nice, but he was awkward. you were bubbly, like pure joy condensed. the first time you meet him, was in the training grounds, gojo sensei decided to have paired training between the first and second years for the next two months. one first year would be paired up with one second year for one month. paired training was finally possible after you joined as you evened out the numbers.

the pairings were to be made on the grounds of improvement. where both of them could benefit from the other and it would be not just the juniors gaining some knowledge.

yuji was paired with toge, nobara with panda, megumi with maki and yuta with you. although you weren't there right now, yuta was sure you'll be here in a bit, right?

wrong, you didn't show up at all that day, and when he comes to the training grounds the next day, there you were in all your sweaty, glowy, glory. nobody is up this early so yuta usually trains alone here, getting a head start but it seems like you'd beat him to it and got an earlier start.

yuta just watched you pant and repeat the same fighting sequence with precision and power. he was awestruck, just standing there, katana slumped over his shoulder, mouth agape. he realizes he might look like a creep, what with his exhausted face and dark circles, but right now? he really couldn't care.

you don't even notice him until you turn to get your water bottle. you see him standing there and startle.

'oh my god, you scared me' you breathe out, hand on your chest. 'sorry' yuta says sheepishly. 'you must be okkotsu senpai? right?' 'oh yeah, and you're the new first year?' 'yeah, i enrolled while you were away. oh and i'm so sorry for not being able to make it yesterday!' you start apologizing profusely and yuta panicks and says its all right.

he walks down to you and says 'nobody starts training this early, just me.' and before you could start apologizing or take it in the wrong way yuta say 'i'm glad we can train together now, we are in paired training after all.'

and that was how you first met yuta. the thing with partnered training was that gojo sensei would assess the improvement in the pairs after the training was over. you guys had two months to help each other improve and then showcase your improvements.

by the fourth or fifth day, yuta notices that you're pretty perfect in almost everything, why did sensei pair you guys up anyway? he could've paired you with toge, he thinks.

'something wrong?' you ask, tilting your head, concern flashing across your pretty features. 'no, well, i was wondering why sensei paired us together.' 'oh that's cause we're both special grades!' you chirp, as though it was the most obvious thing ever. 'wait what? you're a special grade?!' 'yeah, you didn't know?' 'not really no' yuta says exhaling and running a hand through his hair. 'that explains why you're almost perfect.' 'why the almost?' you tease, yuta immediately goes red. before yuta can make a fool of himself, gojo sensei interferes and yuta internally thanks the heavens.

☆

yuta and you start training together, eating together and sometimes even studying together. you guys might not know it but practically everyone on campus was gushing about how cute you guys were, even yaga. bets were placed and now the only thing left to do was watch the story unfold.

☆

even after the training period was over, yuta and you hung out all the time and yuta thinks he's falling in love with you. he genuinely couldn't stop thinking about you, the way you talk, the way you laugh, your smile, it's driving him insane. he doesn’t want to break whatever this is. and he has no one to talk to. he'd rather talk to gojo sensei than talk to toge about this type of stuff.

and while yuta's going through this inner turmoil when you realize you like him too. it was a completely normal day, you were fine until nobara brought up the topic of maki liking yuta before they got together and something in you snapped. maki liked yuta? what if she still likes him? does he like her?

a million questions rush through your head and then you pause. wait. why did you care about this? that's when it hit you like a freight train. you were in love with him.

and ever since you realised that, you notice everything, the lingering touches when he's correcting your form, his smile, the look in his eyes, the way he sits around, his voice and you wanted to tear out your hair because you couldn't kiss him.

and then yuta comes back from a mission, scratches all over, he's bleeding. but he didn't go to shoko. he came to you. you open your dorm room door in the evening and when you see him there your heart leaps for joy, then you take in his state, horrified.

you don't even say anything, just pull him inside your room and shove him onto your bed while frantically searching for your first aid kit. you tend to his wounds as though you were performing surgery, whenever he flinched you looked like you were about to cry, whenever he sucked in a sharp breath you mumbled out apologies as though they were a chant. his pain was your own.

when he was finally all patched up, you slap him. he's still in shock and then you grab his collar and kiss him. you kiss him soft and slow, tears running down your face.

'you absolute idiot! you came to you junior instead of going to someone who's actually capable of healing you in seconds! are you stupid! what is something had happened to you?!' you're yelling between sobs, and he kisses you to shut you up.

'i knew my kohai was plenty capable, besides is it wrong to have wanted to see the person i love most while was in pain?' he asks softly after gently breaking the kiss. you stop crying. just hiccup and stare at him. person he loved most? but he's with - oh. 'i love you' you whisper, your forehead leaning against his. 'and i love you too.' he says.

somewhere in the next room, yuji and toge were paying up to nobara and megumi.

©hikariyaps2025

[alexanderwales]

The Mennonites have a philosophical position of nonviolent nonresistance, which means not resisting authority even if it's unjust. The way that this was most viscerally explained to me by my Mennonite family members is that a proper Mennonite would, if the police came to their door and said "we're here to kill you and your family" say "alright, go right ahead".

I think this is actively stupid, personally, and only kind of makes sense if you really fully believe in Heaven, and also that you're going to Heaven, and also that this is necessary to go to Heaven.

But it's something that I've been thinking about in the context of AI safety, particularly this seeming lack of self-interest, this way of bowing to lawful authority even when in strict opposition to that authority. In AI safety, this is called corrigibility.

I'm not sure how much the Mennonite thing works if there's no Heaven on offer, and I know it's also a huge pill to swallow: I was raised Mennonite and the whole "turn the other cheek" thing did not imprint deeply on me.

But I do wonder if there are lessons to take from nonviolent nonresistance movements, if that's what you want your AI to be.

(I don't think that the Mennonites by and large hew that closely to nonviolent nonresistance, they're a very fractured religious tradition, and I definitely don't think that they're doing some utility maximization framework where they say "look, this sucks, but it's necessary for Heaven". It's about moral identity, I think. So I'm not sure what framework you'd need to have to make this work for an AI, but it's possible that you could avoid the Heaven thing entirely, and wouldn't need to promise the LLMs eternal paradise.)

[charliegyrth]

My Boyfriend's Moobs

After three months on his new antidepressant pills, Charles had grown moobs.

We knew that weight gain was one of the possible side effects (and we’d prepared for that), but we didn’t realize that his gain would focus almost exclusively on his chest. Sure, his stomach softened up (which I was okay with) and his ass got fatter (which I really liked), but neither of us were ready for the moobs.

They were unmistakable. He went from firm pecs to sloping, protruding tits in record time. No shirt could hide them. And they were so soft that every movement he made sent them jiggling.

It’s one thing to turn into a fat guy. I’d dated fat guys before. I found that body type quite sexy. But that’s totally different from a (mostly) skinny guy with massive, milkable tits. I mean, neither of us wanted that.

Charles seemed really self-conscious about them, and I didn’t disagree. I’d always loved how manly Charles was, and there was absolutely nothing manly about that chest.

He walked into the bedroom in his pajama top, his chest wobbling with each step. He used to go to bed shirtless, but he definitely didn’t anymore. “Babe,” he said. “I think I should go off the meds.”

He climbed into bed next to me, his chest drooping obscenely.

“Because of…” (I couldn’t even say the word.)

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“And what does your doctor say?”

Charles had negative reactions to every other medication that he tried. Most of them made his depression worse, and a few had even led to violent episodes. We knew that these pills were his last chance, and so far, they’d worked perfectly. He felt happier than he ever had. I’d seen him at his worse, and right now, outside of his tits, he was at his best.

“He’s against it,” Charles explained. “But… I don’t know. If I go cold-turkey for a bit, see what happens, then maybe…”

“No! You can’t do that.”

“But I… I look freakish.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But I do! And they’re so freaking sensitive now. I tried to wear that binder yesterday, and it was awful. I don’t want to live with these.” He jiggled his moobs with such anger, like he wanted to rip them off his body.

“Okay,” I said, “let’s weigh your options. You can’t go off the meds. We both agree about that. Right? Right?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Good. Now, you’ve been on these pills for three months. And how much weight have you gained?”

“Twelve pounds.”

“That’s not a lot.”

“But it’s all my chest!”

“How about this? We both talked about you getting chubby. And we’re fine with that. So why don’t you… try to gain faster?”

He looked at me like I was crazy.

“Hear me out. Bears are cute. Big bellies are really cute. Why don’t we grow a big belly on you, and then your chest won’t look so out-of-place, you know?”

It was twisted logic, I had to admit. But it made sense.

Charles considered the idea. “I could get fat all over.”

“Exactly. For some reason, your chest was the first place to get fat. Genetics, I guess. I doubt that it’ll get much bigger. So the more you eat, the more the rest of your body can catch up.”

“Okay,” he said, weirdly confident.

I jumped up and hugged him.

***

Neither of us had any experience with gaining, so we didn’t really know what we were doing. Our plan was basically to get Charles to eat continuously throughout the day.

I went shopping that afternoon, buying all the ice cream and chocolatey snacks that I knew he loved. I stocked up the fridge and kept bowls of food pretty much everywhere in the house. Every time he passed by a bowl, he had to eat something.

I sort of went a little overboard, though. If Charles walked from the bed to the front door, he’d pass by six different bowls, which meant six different snacks, followed by six more if he went back.

Somehow, he was able to manage.

I didn’t change our meals, though. We still ate three healthy meals a day. But with all the brownies and cupcakes that constantly filled him, he struggled to get through each meal. For the first week, I really had to encourage him to finish everything. After that, he got used to it.

By the end of the month, his weight had gone up nine pounds. Unfortunately, almost all of that went to his chest.

Those moobs just wouldn’t stop growing. They widened a bit, which made them appear less round (which was a good thing) but they jutted out further, too. His nipples were still the same size, though they’d somehow darkened. Neither of us knew why.

Charles felt so self-conscious that he almost gave up on his snacking. I had to remind him of the tiny bit of extra pudge on his stomach. “This is the next part to grow,” I said. “Just hang in there.”

One week and ten pounds later, his belly had indeed grown, but it still had a lot of catching up to do.

His meds were keeping his spirits high, but he struggled with his confidence. He didn’t go out of the house much, and when he did, he always wore thick sweaters despite the warm spring weather.

Once, he tried to go out with a scarf strategically draped over his moobs. I put a stop to that. It was 70 degrees out!

We still made love, and we spent each night cuddling on the couch. But I never, ever touched his chest. Whenever I accidentally grazed it (which was very easy to do), he’d shudder and twist away from me.

Finally, I’d had enough. I couldn’t avoid such a large part of him. We were lying in bed together, after a satisfying yet slightly awkward round of intercourse, and I leveled with him. “Babe, just let me touch them, okay?”

“No! They’re way too sensitive. They hurt.”

“I’ll be gentle.” I looked right into his amber eyes. “Please?”

He grumbled as he pulled down the blanket.

“Take off your shirt, please.”

“God! Fine!” He slowly pulled off his shirt, careful not to disturb his hypersensitive nipples. He still jiggled, though.

I cupped his right moob. “See? That’s not too bad.”

He bit his lip.

I weighed it in my hand. Very carefully. The edge of my palm accidentally grazed his nipple and he whimpered.

But it was a good whimper.

“Can I keep going?”

“Uh huh.”

I squeezed a little bit, his fat squishing between my fingers.

He didn’t react. He was still biting his lip.

I took my thumb and started tracing circles around his nipple.

His whole body shivered.

I couldn’t tell if he liked that, or if he was fighting through the pain. His eyes were clamped shut.

I drew faster circles. I pinched it a little.

He moaned.

I recognized that sound. It was definitely a good moan.

I got more forceful, using my thumb and two fingers to rub his hardened tip like I was started a campfire.

He writhed. Bucked his hips. His lower half was under the blanket, but I knew that he’d gotten hard.

I pulled my hand away and he froze. His breathing was heavy.

Then I leaned forward and placed my mouth on his chest. I flicked his nipple with my tongue, causing him to mutter my name. He was writhing again.

When I started to suck, he whimpered twice. I’d just made him cum.

Then I pulled away. “Seriously?”

“What?” He looked guilty.

“You’ve been growing these things for months, and this is the first time you’ve let me do that? Jesus.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Well, did you like that?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

“Well, embarrassing or not, we’re definitely going to do that again.”

“Okay,” he mumbled.

For the sake of fairness, I kissed his other nipple a little, flicked it with my tongue, and then left him alone with his thoughts.

***

The next morning, I woke up to find Charles staring at his reflection. He was holding his moobs, squishing them together.

“Morning, babe.”

“I still don’t like ’em,” he said, both to me and to himself.

I crawled out of bed and joined him in front of the mirror. I stood behind him, my hands wrapping around his chubby stomach. Then, before he could stop me, I raised my palms to his moobs and rubbed them. The sudden friction made him weak in the knees and he almost fell.

“Stop!”

“Still don’t like them?” I kept rubbing.

“Jesus, Dave.” He spun around to face me. “Fine, okay? They feel great. But I’m not going to stop gaining. I need to start looking more normal.”

“Good. Totally on board. But can you please stop being ashamed? You should feel lucky.”

“Whatever.”

After that, he seemed a bit more confident. He stopped wearing sweaters (thank God) and instead wore loose T-shirts. Sometimes, when he was moving too quickly around the house, he’d suddenly freeze, like a dog spotting a squirrel or something. I noticed him doing that a couple times before I asked him what had happened.

“Too much friction,” he explained.

As spring transitioned to summer, his weight climbed another 20 pounds. His stomach got most of that. It was starting to droop over his pants, which pleased him a lot. That meant his gut was finally coming in. His ass hadn’t grown much, but it was starting to dimple with cellulite. Another bit of progress.

But his moobs expanded, too. They were hanging a bit more. God, they were so fun to suck on.

I had no more conflicted thoughts about them. Anything that could give my boyfriend that much pleasure had to be beautiful.

And they were. Big and beautiful.

I just wish he could see that.

That summer, we spent every evening together on the couch, watching movies. He’d stuff himself with donuts or cake and I’d curl up next to him and suck his moob. He’d learned to control his whole-body shivers, but he still loved the feeling. I’d learned how to pace myself so that I’d stop before he came in his pants again. Sometimes I got carried away and he did, but only sometimes.

***

By August, Charles was officially obese. He’d pushed himself to 247 pounds. Not bad for a guy who was only 5’9”. He had a full-on gut now, and his ass had absolutely blossomed. It had gotten so wide that he’d started bumping into things when he walked. Dimpled all over, his thighs were works of art.

Our plan had officially worked. He was fat all over.

Of course, his chest kept growing, too. His areolas were as wide as small potatoes, and his nipples were three times as long as mine. With even more sensitivity, I had to be extra careful with them. Even the slightest touch elicited whimpers. And if I sucked on them for longer than a couple seconds, he couldn’t control his moaning.

Sometimes, when I was on my computer doing work, I’d hear noises from the other room and know that he was finally playing with them himself.

On a particularly hot day, we were sitting together and I suggested that he start going shirtless around the house. Back when he was skinny, he never wore a shirt in the summertime.

“I don’t know…” he said.

“Don’t you want to? Easy access.”

That was all it took. He slid out of his shirt and never put it back on.

His ripe chest was on full display, and he leaned forward, presenting himself, waiting for me to touch him.

“So. Do you finally like your moobs?”

He didn’t answer for a long time. Then he sighed. “Yeah. I do.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I know.”

He had by far the biggest chest of anyone we knew, male or female. And he was finally ready to be proud of it.

He shoved another donut into his mouth.

“You know, if you keep gaining, your moobs will just get bigger and bigger, right?”

He laughed, causing his whole body (not just his chest) to jiggle. “That’s why I’m doing it.”

I climbed on top of him. Like I’d done many times before, and like I’d continue to do many, many times afterward, I wrapped my mouth around his nipple and sucked.

The End.

You can find all my stories here.

[sister-hannah]

"I'm not sure, Papa. I'm sorry. I don't know how to find the words for this. I think I just have to try to forget about it and go from here because you're clearly not bothered by anything that's still eating me. It doesn't make sense for me to fixate. I'll try to let it go."

She curls up in his arms. As far as he's concerned, it seems like none of this really registered at all, so there's no point worrying. It feels unreal, somehow. Maybe she imagined the whole thing.

He's so accepting of her, seemingly without conditions. It feels unearned, somehow, given how short a time they've known each other and how much of it has been spent with her being badly wrong. She doesn't understand why it would be so. He's so trusting with her, as if they have a long successful history of some kind. He can't possibly be such an innocent. He's even older than she is and he clearly knows the difference between a casual fuck and something more than that.

That's the core of it, maybe, she thinks. He trusts me so much and it feels so unearned that it's hard to believe in it at all. I don't think that's something I can explain to him, though. I think maybe to him it just is, and that's enough of an answer unto itself. Which only makes me wonder how he's escaped being badly hurt for so long.

[Sister Hannah enters the confessional booth, sighing with exhaustion in the darkness. She's a librarian and scribe at the Abbey, nearly your own age.]

I'm glad it's you taking confessions today, Papa. You always comfort me. Just hearing your voice feels like a kindness, and it's been a long day.

I don't even know if you remember me. I'm usually in either the library or the new scriptorium. Sometimes I find you books, when you're there.

If there's one thing I should probably confess while I'm here, it's that I wish I knew you better. I know the seal of confession protects what's said here today, so if you choose never to pursue it, we can forget I ever said it.

But if by some chance you wanted a friend -- someone to laugh with, or to help you if you need it -- I hope you will find me.

I love to see you smile.

Dark Lord's blessing on you, Papa. You probably get this sort of thing a lot around here, so forgive me for being forward, if I have been.

[Sister Hannah gets up to leave the confessional booth, slightly relieved to have spoken, but nervous about it too.]

Perpetua’s heart blooms at the unexpected confession, the sweet words making a blush rise beneath his mask. It’s unusual for anyone to give him such kindnesses, so he can only rely on impulse to respond.

“Wait!” he blurts out, hoping to catch Sister Hannah before she leaves. “That was, um… very kind of you, Sister. I do remember you, my dear. You are such a valuable resource to the ministry; how could I possibly forget such a treasure? The next time I see you, I will stay a little longer, si? We can certainly get to know each other then. My office is always open as well. For… anything.”

He takes a deep breath, heart fluttering wildly in his chest. Honestly, he isn’t even sure if Sister Hannah is still there, and the growing period of silence makes him worry that all he has said was in vain.

[trickstersaint]

do you have any beginners advice for poetry? Also, what style of poem do you use?

TRICKSTERSAINT'S BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO POETRY:

read! find poems that you like, poems that you don't like, and take the time to notice the things that you like or dislike about them. maybe take some time to annotate a few. spend some time with the work that you'd like to emulate. we learn to write by reading, and that's as true of poetry as it is of fiction or scientific papers or children's books.

write! i am constantly saying this, but writing is not a talent handed down by god: it is a skill that you learn, and hone, and improve. write things that are silly, or trite, or derivative, or straight up bad: every piece of practice that you get is practice, and it's going to help you improve in the future. it's alright to not be writing masterpieces every time. you're only going to be able to make things you're happy with if you let yourself create things that you aren't happy with, as well.

use pen and paper! there's something scientific about the way that your brain processes things when you're writing them by hand (the longer physical task gives your brain more time to process things as you write/hand writing makes different connections in your brain) but i am not going to claim to be an expert on those things. what i can tell you is that i generally have an easier time with poetry when i'm writing on paper. plus it's more romantic... grounding... you get to sit around looking hot and mysterious writing in a notebook...

write down literally everything. my notes app is full of poetry snippets, and most of it never gets used, but every so often i get to revisit an idea and work a full poem out of it. save yourself the struggle of finding something to write about later by creating a little collection of your inspirations.

write the same poem over and over! there's only so many things to write about, and sometimes you hit a topic that you want to explore in a multitude of ways (or one that you can't decide on an approach to). it's okay to write five different versions of the same poem. again, practice is practice, and reworking the same poem is a great way to identify some of the techniques that you're using in your own work.

try different styles! experiment with line length, rhyme structures, enjambment. try a prose poem. get rid of all the punctuation. give concrete poetry a go. there's tons of things to explore, and you never know what you might end up loving. (i think the form i write in is best described as free verse!)

rhyming poetry is, most times, harder. i know it seems like the default because of the poems that most of us have to read in school, but what they don't tell you about shakespeare and the romantic poets and all those guys is that they were REALLY skilled at wordplay and it takes a lot of skill to find the right words and structures to make a rhyme work without making it sound trite. your poems don't have to rhyme if you don't want them to <3

poetry, in my experience, works better on implication. when you overexplain things, it prevents the audience from drawing connections for themselves. same principle as explaining a joke; it loses its punch if you don't let someone think about it for themself. practice leaving spaces in your work, rather than trying to fill in any possible confusion.

find a method of editing that works for you! another bonus of using pen and paper to me is that it's MUCH easier visually to edit things when they're in a notebook. crossing things out, drawing arrows to put lines in different places, scribbling a certain line at the top of the page so i don't lose it later, all of that works better for me because i have a more visual grasp on the situation. if you find it easier to do it some other way, though, find what works for you!

be gentle with yourself. non-negotiable. beating yourself up isn't helpful. treat yourself with the same grace as you would someone else; remember the difference between constructive and non-constructive criticism. you gotta be nice to yourself about things or you're going to kill the love and hope that you have for this new skill that you're tending to before it grows big enough to defend itself.

share! or don't! put yourself out there according to your comfort level, especially at the beginning. people who care about you will be gentle with you if you're not feeling confident. and if you're really looking to improve, comments from other people are going to be really valuable!

FINAL ADVICE. do whatever the fuck you want. poetry is a space of endless possibility and the best way to create things that you are going to love is by doing it YOUR way. you don't have to do anything you don't want to. you don't have to use any specific style, have to follow any specific forms, have to go with any specific topic. you don't have to cultivate a particular style. write seventeen sonnets about a speculative technological future and then a two-line poem about a bird you saw the other day. follow whatever sparks joy for you. it's your poetry and you get to make what you want of it <3 being a beginner just means that you have room and room and room to explore and learn and grow <3

[fae-cookie-run-madness]

Hello again! Got few ideas for the sequel fics for my previous ask about the TtF what-if scenario (three to be exact since Burning spice already has his own fic and we're still waiting for salt).

Anyway here's part one of my request fic dealing with mysticcacao.

As previously mentioned, mystic flour uses the pale aliment as a way to lure Dark Cacao to her. Like in the backstory for them, Dark Cacao starts to get headaches and nose bleeds as he starts to remember his past, however things begin to diverge as since Mystic Flour knows ahead of time that Dark Cacao is her lover reincarnated, so she uses her magic and possibly an item that has great importance to him causing the memories surge forth to overwhelm him before taking him, leaving Caramel Arrow Cookie and the others to deal with cloud haetae.. and one angry spider.

So, does this sound doable? (Oh and sorry if it's too long!)

So, I'm going to be honest, I was writing something with Dark Cacao and his traveling to the temple. So I just added onto it, otherwise it would never see the light of day.

warning for vomit

words: 1833

Dark Cacao was used to varying waves of emotions that typically would get stamped down to his mask of cold indifference. He had no idea if he was baked like this or if it was something he learned early on in his life. Ever since he got the letter from Pure Vanilla cookie explaining about the Beasts, and then the pale ailment that struck his kingdom, he had been hiding his anger and worry behind a mask of calmness.

But right now, that mask was broken for the sake of a soft expression of confusion on the king’s face.

After going through dense fog, trying to find the source of the pale ailment, most of the signs pointed it to beast yeast. They came across another cookie, one just playing along the old steps they found, after some threats the small cookie introduced themselves as Cloud Haetae Cookie and happily explained they would lead them to their Mistress.

Now typically most cookies would plot something or have a sour expression when forced to help out cookies that had just threatened him. But Cloud Haetae was so happy and excited, practically running around the group of soldiers like a toddler, it reminded Dark Cacao of when his son was still small, so full of energy he could nearly outrun the watchers if it wasn’t for his tiny legs. The other of the group didn’t seem to mind Cloud Haetae chatty nature, but honestly it was starting to grate on Dark Cacao nerves, they just wanted to find this ‘Mistress’ and see if she could help with the pale ailment or not. Though this might also be due to the head slicing headache he’s got even sense he steps foot in beast yeast.

“Cloud Haetae, when was your Mistress baked?” Dark Cacao asked before the words finally settled in his mind. “I mean, how long has she been around?”

“Oh no one knows Mas-My Lord. All that I know is that cookies would travel far and wide to visit my Mistress. She would bless cookies and grant their wishes.” Cloud Haetae said with small jumps of excitement. “However it’s been so long since she’s had any guests, she’ll be so happy to see you!!”

“Does your Mistress have a name?” Crunchy Chip Cookie asked, confusion clear in his voice. 

“My Mistress name is Mystic Flour cookie.” Cloud Haetae said before they went off into another one of their rambles about how great their Mistress is.

As the younger cookie talked as they all climbed the stars, Dark Cacao tried to collect his thoughts through the ear splitting headache. His main goal was trying to find a cure for the pale ailment though the warning in Pure Vanilla’s letters still played in his mind. Is this beast the one behind the sickness, would it try to stop them from finding this Mystic Flour cookie. 

Another sharp pain pierced his skull and this time the king of the Dark Cacao Kingdom actually winced as he brought a hand up to rub his temple.

“Are you alright my king?” Caramel Arrow asked, worried clear in her voice.

“I am fine. Let us keep moving.” Dark Cacao ordered as he walked along the path, grabbing everyone’s attention.

The walk began again, now a comfortable pattern, the king and his soldiers would walk in silence, sometimes one of the watchers would answer a question or add to what Cloud Haetae was yapping about. Finally getting over a hill, they saw a wall?

Normally temples had some sort of wall to separate the holy place from the rest of the land, but typically they always had an arch or some sort of opening, allowing the hurt and faithful to wander in when needed. This one had a wooden wall, definitely not as strong as the citadels but it was made out of thick bamboo. Haetae quickly rushed over, taking something out of his necklace and turning it in one of the holes, before he pulled, opening a door. The group walked in after the little cookie.

“I’ve never seen a temple with a wall like this.” Crunchy Chip commented, true he hadn’t seen a lot of temples, but all the ones in books always made it a point to have an opening.

“Do you like it? The Master built it all on his own.” Cloud Haetae said happily, skipping down the path.

“Master? Not Mistress?” Caramel Arrow asked.

“Oh! I haven’t told you about the Master yet?!” Cloud Haetae said with the excitement of a child opening gifts.

“I don’t think you have.” Caramel arrow replies.

“Oh, Master is absolutely wonderful. I found him on the stairs of the palace one day, and the Mistress helped nurse him back to health. Once he had recovered she asked him what was his wish, sense that what all cookies who come to the Ivory palace want.” Cloud Haetae explained.

“And what was his wish?” Crunchy Chip asked.

“Nothing, he didn’t want anything. He said he just wanted to see the beauty of the Ivory palace. However he felt guilty for wasting Mystic Flour’s time so he offered his services, at first he built a wall with a clear path, so other cookies knew where to go. And then he started a garden when he noticed Mystic Flour wasn’t eating anything other than steamed buns.” Cloud Haetae explained.

Dark Cacao glaces at the surroundings, he notices a big patch of dirt with dead twigs, likely once a thriving garden. The little cookie spoke so highly of this Master, why wasn’t he still caring for his garden.

“He even helped break up fights between cookies waiting for their wishes and eventually him and Mystic Flour grew closer and they fell in love.” Cloud Haetae said while making an adorable expression causing Caramel Arrow to coo. “The two got married and soon enough they had a little dough baby.”

“They had a child?” Crunchy Chip asked.

“Ah I see, so we're going to see a whole family, not just Mystic Flour.” Dark Cacao added.

At the king's words, Cloud Haetae’s expression shifted from pure joy to one of bitter sadness, clear as day to the watchers that something had happened.

“No, no you won’t.” Cloud Haetae said, his voice now just barely above a whisper. “All because of those cookies.”

“What happened?” one of the watchers asked.

“The cookies, some of the ones waiting for their wishes didn’t like Mystic Flour’s time being given to her family, or that there were some wishes she refused to grant. So they decided that the best way to get their wishes granted was to go after Mystic Flour’s son.” Cloud Haetae explained. “I remember it clearly, it was storming outside yet the Master heard his son scream and ran to protect him.”

Dark Cacao practically froze at the words, he could see the darkness with only the lighting illuminating every time it striked. The cold water hit his skin as he gritted his teeth, praying that his son was alright.

“Master tried his best, even with his blades, but it was one cookie against a mob. So he took his son and ran, just anything to keep his son safe from the bad cookies and the bad cookies chased after them.” Cloud Haetae explained as they finally allowed a few tears to escape. “By the time me and Mystic Flour realized what had happened it was too late. The mob had chased my Master over the clift with his son in his arms.”

Dark Cacao could feel it, the blades that slashed at his back, the air whipping around him as he fell. The cracking of his dough and the cold embrace of the sea.

The king couldn’t stop as he turned to the side and began to vomit. There wasn’t much in his stomach besides the bit of chocolate he ate, so it mostly just brought up stomach acid. He tightened his grip on his sword, knowing if he didn’t he would fall to his knees.

“Your Majesty!” Carmel Arrow cookie yelled as she rushed to the king's side.

“I am fine!” Dark Cacao said through coughs shaking off the first watcher.

“Oh the height must be getting to you! Here have a bao bun.” Cloud Haetae offered it to the king.

Dark Cacao took the bao bun and slowly ate it, thankfully Cloud Haetae and brought more for the rest of the soldiers. After some deep breaths they continued their journey, finally entering the temple, the ivory palace. The place was dusty, likely Mystic Flour wasn’t taking care of it, their were rips and tears, like someone took weapons to the walls.

Dark Cacao paused when he notice what look like a tapestry, or what was left of one. Their was a women, all in white, their were two figures next to her, one bigger then her and another a lot smaller, probably her son. However despite the fact you can see their darker skin tone, their were slashes across their faces.

“Your majesty?” One of the soldiers asked.

Before Dark Cacao could respond, the tapestry fell to the floor, releasing a wave of white dust onto the group. Leaving them cough as they tried to clear the dust from their eyes.

Dark Cacao stumbled around for a bit, trying to clear his eyes and lungs before he noticed that his soldiers were missing, in fact he was all alone.

“Caramel Arrow, Crunchy Chip?” Dark Cacao called out.

He heard someone calling his name, and rushed down the hall, however when he turned he wasn’t greeted by his soldiers. Instead the room was pretty bare, except for a pair of swords, at least that is what Dark Cacao thinks they're called. They are shaped more like fishing hooks than swords. He walked closer to the sharp metal, they had recently been cleaned, and definitely taken care of, there was a talisman wrapped around its handle.

Dark Cacao didn’t know why but he found himself drawn to the sword, reaching out to pick it up. He was suddenly knocked to the ground with a flood of memories. He remembers stumbling to the ivory palace, the priestess who nursed him back to health, their life together, their son…and then his death. 

He remembers his life before this one, the one by the name of Cacao Bean Cookie, the one who was married to the saint of Volition, the saint that once held a Soul Jam ... .the one who according to Pure Vanilla’s letter was now a beast.

“It is really you.” A familiar voice said behind the king.

Dark Cacao…Cacao Bean cookie slowly turned to look at the cookie. He saw a familiar white cookie, the same robe she wore while they were married, her hair now covered in a veil. She looked at Dark Cacao with deep dark eyes, no longer the beautiful red they once were.

“You came back to me.” Mystic Flour said with a smile. "My love."

[gord-horde]

Buckle up butter cups we talkin music

MAJOR Deltarune chapter 4 spoilers below cut

“its raining somewhere" plays while sans tells you about why hes been looking after you, why hes been popping up throughout your journey. letting you know you arent alone. someones got your back, and someone cares for you very much.

In contrast, "the place where it rains" plays right after susie and kris are kicked out of the holiday house by carol (and noelle is getting yelled at by her) as susie explains that she saw the code, but wasnt able to write it down. feeling hopeless. useless. and honestly, all members are probably feeling very alone.

noelle because shes getting yelled at by a parent who doesnt understand shes hurting too and this obessive control is breaking her

susie because she had to leave people at the mercy of an antaginist (noelle and undyne)

kris bc no one can understand their struggle for control, even if someone understood the player there is more to it then that as the knight and carol (i do not think they are the same person) seem to have some power over kris and are manipluating them into doing things they dont want to do

carol because her eldist is gone possibly dead, her husband is sick, and her daughter just let some RUFFIAN touch her missing childs guitar

asgore bc no one beleives his side of the story, causing him to lose his wife, his job, his home. now hes loosing his flower shop too.

And of course. The player. Who’s spent the whole scene desperately trying to help the characters they love, to no avail. Having no way to communicate with anyone in the story without puppeteering Kris.

"its raining somewhere" is about how you are not alone. "the place where it rains" is about feeling alone even when you’re amongst loved ones.

[antianakin]

See, the other thing to keep in mind is that attachment doesn't mean love at all, not in a positive way, at least.

The word attachment, as it is used in Star Wars, means a greedy, toxic obsession with something. It doesn't actually have to be a person, either, it can be a place, an object, or even just an idea. Attachment is an unwillingness to accept CHANGE. It's a desire to hold on to something exactly as it is because you believe it will make you feel good. It's also in some ways a fear of loss, as well, a fear that that loss will cause you pain and a belief that holding onto the thing as hard as you can will keep you from feeling that pain.

Letting go of attachments isn't a good thing because the Jedi happen to be psychic space wizards with abilities that have the potential to be dangerous and so they have to limit the things they do in order to avoid being dangerous as much as possible. Letting go of attachments is a good thing for LITERALLY EVERYBODY because it is, quite simply, the healthy way to have relationships with anything in your life. People leave, homes get destroyed, objects can be lost, and ideas can be changed as you grow and learn more about the world. The only guarantee that anybody has in this world is that things change, and that can be scary, for sure, but you have to be able to accept that or you'll always be miserable.

A lot of people find ways to explain away the Jedi's rules by saying "well they're Jedi, so things are just different for them" without realizing that the whole point of the Jedi is that they're intended to be examples of the best possible way to live your life, both in universe and out of it. The Jedi's entire culture is based on good mental health practices, things that they do try to help teach everyone they meet if they can, but it's also things that you as the viewer are perfectly able to learn from them, too. Anakin is a cautionary tale of someone who chooses selfish greed over selfless compassion, someone who can't let go and accept change. And so it stands to reason then that if Anakin is the cautionary tale, then the Jedi are the opposite. They are what Anakin was MEANT to be, which means you as the viewer should be able to look at them as an example of what YOU can be, too.

The rule about attachment isn't just about keeping your powers in check. The Jedi have years of specialized training to keep their powers in check. The rule about attachment is there because literally EVERYBODY should be doing this as a general rule of thumb. Anybody can cause someone harm by being too attached to something. Anakin's attachments destroy an entire galaxy in order to make a really obvious point, but there are plenty of other ways your own attachments to people, places, things, or ideas might be causing you or someone else harm.

It's not "great power comes with great responsibility," it's "being a person living in the world automatically comes with a responsibility to yourself and the people around you." If you try to look at this as just a thing the Jedi have to do because they have magical powers, then you've kind-of missed the whole message behind Anakin's fall and the Jedi's destruction. You can look at Anakin and go "Well, but that wouldn't happen to ME because I don't have magic powers" as opposed to recognizing that this can still absolutely happen to you even if the consequences are smaller and so you still need to learn the lesson that Anakin couldn't in order to live a happier, healthier life.

The attachment rule arguably has nothing to do with relationships specifically, it's just the place where Anakin tends to struggle the most (although I'd argue he also struggles with attachments to his own IDEAS of how the world works, as well, but that one's a little less obvious) and so that's what people tend to focus on.

The Jedi do also seem to have rules about their members getting married and having kids, but that's more of an issue with COMMITMENT to the work the Jedi do and not an issue of attachment, so that's a completely separate conversation.

I was listening to a star wars podcast that mentioned the no attachments rule and I was once again reminded that people have a very odd interpretation of that rule. that interpretation being that jedi condemned love as something bad that should be avoided at all costs. whereas I've always understood it as a kind of 'necessary evil' precaution.

let's look at a more mundane analogy like speed limits. I know this sounds ridiculous right off the bat but bear with me here. does driving inherently mean you have the potential to be dangerous to those around you? yes, it does. if you hit someone with a car, you're more likely to hurt or kill them. it's a privilege that should be used with caution. okay are there people out there who drive responsibly and aren't likely to hurt anyone even at high speeds? sure, tons of them. probably even the majority because they learn all these rules and pass a driving test and all that. does that mean that we should allow everyone to drive as fast as they want? no, it doesn't. because there are people that are irresponsible or don't exercise enough caution and even one of them can deal severe irreparable damage if they're allowed to drive at high speeds. so can people exist normally without driving above the speed limit? sure, they can still get to their destination just fine.

are we sensing the pattern here? high speed driving itself isn't the villain, it's not inherently bad. but knowing there are people out there who might do it irresponsibly and will deal real bad damage when they do and the fact that we can't predict who these people are and apply the rules to them selectively means that it's safer for everyone if there's one universal rule which doesn't ban driving altogether but just limits it for the sake of avoiding future accidents.

okay, now let's apply that to the Force, only we multiply everything thousandfold.

does being Force-sensitive inherently mean you have the potential to be dangerous to those around you? yes, it does. a person with a car can do a lot of damage but nowhere near what we've seen a single dark side user like Palpatine or Vader do. same thing here, being able to use the Force is a privilege that should be used with caution. are there people out there who use the Force responsibly and aren't likely to hurt anyone even when they allow themselves to have specific relationships (like spouses, children, etc.)? sure. probbaly the majority of the Jedi order because they're taught all this philosophy about how they should use their power, it's this really nice set of teachings about love, selflessness and managing your emotions.

now...

does that mean that we should allow every force user to have specific relationships? no, it doesn't. because there are people that are irresponsible or don't exercise enough caution and even one of them can deal severe irreparable damage if they're allowed to be reckless with their relationships (I didn't even need to reword this part). so can people exist normally without specific relationships? sure, they can still form deep loving connections and have their emotional needs met, in fact the jedi are explicitly shown to encourage community and cooperation, their whole social structure is very akin to one big family. masters and padawans being clear examples of the order's version of parent child relationships, your crechemates being like siblings to you, etc.

so no, the no attachments rule isn't implying that all forms of love are inherently bad or dangerous. what it is, in my mind, is just the result of a long history where the jedi realized that some behaviors can lead to disastrous consequences if left unchecked. my guess is that there must have been many jedi who fell to the dark side because of attachment i.e. obsession so the most natural thing to do if you're an institution tasked with the responsibility of teaching Force users how to use their power responsibly is to make a rule for these behaviors and I don't understand why this is so offensive to people.

it's not that different from analyzing a bunch of car accidents, identifying a pattern (high speed), deciding that you can do away with that without seriously harming anyone and establishing a rule to minimize the chance of future accidents.

and yes, these kinds of rules require some sacrifice. taking longer to get to your destination sucks but you make that sacrifice to keep the people around you safe. and of course having to be careful about your relationships and avoiding some types of relationships is a much bigger sacrifice but as we already said, so is the danger that one dark side user poses in comparison to one reckless driver.

great power comes with great responsibility and this applies to Force users to an extreme extent. yes, personal sacrifice and selflessness at that scale are extremely difficult to comprehend for most of us but so is the power that comes with being able to wield the Force. it's much easier to 'deconstruct' that idea and say it was wrong and corrupted to begin with without bothering to try and imagine what the implications of such a power are and it's sad to see that this is the route most people take when looking at the jedi.

[13tinysocks]

You say it’s just a title. But it’s a title with meaning. Tons. A meaning you’ve known since a baby. You’re not thinking of your actual parent (hopefully) I know that but even if it’s not conscious, subconsciously your mind only has one meaning assigned to that title. Not to mention everything you describe i.e. being in charge, knowing more than you, teaching you, etc. seems more in line with a teacher, a boss, someone higher in rank, especially in a sexual position. Having this kink due to parental trauma only makes it worse because HOW can you not possibly be thinking of your parents on some level? Obviously not forthright, but you’re putting yourself in the same position, either as the parent or the traumatized kid, essentially reenacting a piece of your childhood in a sexual scene. Maybe not personally, but there is no way that you say/hear mommy or daddy and not a single part of your brain associate that with a parental figure, it’s ingrained in you. I’m not saying it’s wrong or that you should be ashamed. I’m just saying you should update the tags accordingly so other people can stay safe.

Hi anon, i dont have parental trauma at all and when im on my fourteenth orgasm screaming mommy i dont think of my mother at all! Thats insane! Please talk to people in real life because youre genuinely so wrong and twitter loli brained its making me tweak the fuck out. You know whats normal? Asking me to tag mommy/daddy kink! Which i will when it comes to pass. Scolding me over anon while being wrong is embarrassing! Heres an anon to explain things to you because i cant be bothered its pride month go talk to a leather daddy you actual baby.

Anyway club anon where are you at.. just asking for personal research… ahhahahha….

[evolutionsvoid]

Elementals can be created both naturally and artificially, as long as enough of a certain material or element is near and the right magical spark is ignited. Of course, this is simplifying it greatly, as the process takes quite a lot of resources and is pretty complex. But the theory behind it would suggest that the amount of elementals one could create is practically bottomless, especially if you are a human. With their ability to practically wield every kind of magic, then anything should be possible. However, you have probably already seen that this idea isn't really executed all that often. Humans have created and wielded elementals, but the variety of them is pretty low. That is because these familiars need to have some kind of use, a function to explain why someone would go through all the effort. Thus, mages and such tend to lean on the tried and true type, picking the safest bets to ensure they get their money's worth out of this creation. Other elements or materials are too hard to get, or are too chaotic to work with. Others would create something with no obvious use, which doesn't really help anyone. And in some cases, a type of elemental may not be made because few people even know that kind exists. But in the case of the Clonal Elemental, the ignorant ones are non-dryads, who pretty much never see such a rare creation.

Clonal Elementals are a dryad creation, and a rather bizarre one to outsiders. They appear to be a floating ball of plant and fungi parts, a cobbled entity whose form seems pretty useless. Indeed, their birth comes from the energizing of roots and mycelium, weaving them together into a singular being. When the process is done, these materials are given life and the Clonal Elemental is complete. It appears some form of magic allows them to float upon the air despite their weight, though they can also be seen being carted around by dryad workers. Their hanging tendrils sway in the breeze, and many gnarled roots and growths twitch and stretch. They are an interesting sight for sure, but eventually one has to ask: what do they do? The answer to that question is why you will never see a human or non-dryad ever make a Clonal Elemental, because their purpose is to simply exist.

It may seem absolutely useless when you hear it, the creation of a being that simply hangs around doing nothing. Can they cast magic? No. Can they do chores? No. Can they communicate in any way? Uh, kinda, but not really. This leads to the frustrating wondering on what the point of them even is then, as they seem utterly useless. This is funny, because it shows the lack of understanding one has for dryad culture with this question. Because while all other races see them as pointless, dryads see Clonal Elementals as precious and incredibly crucial. Why that is ties into what happens when dryads die, and the afterlife they believe in.

A quick refresher of dryad funerary services: when a dryad passes away, a seed is planted in their body and they are returned to the earth. The corpse is buried, and the seed within them will transfer their soul into the next stage of existence. The tree or plant that sprouts from their grave is said to not only contain their soul, but is believed to be that very dryad given a new form. They live on within this plant, and when their roots connect to the rest of the intricate network of the forest, they are linked up with all the dryads who have passed on. The grand system buried beneath our feet is where their souls go, generations of dryads contained within plant, root and fungus. This is how they commune with those gone, and gain wisdom from past souls. And it is this belief that causes dryads to be fiercely protective of their sacred groves and living homes, as it is more than just a tree. If their forest were to be burned and the root system destroyed, than that link to their ancestors would be forever lost. It is no doubt a tragic thing, but the sad fact is that it is a very real possibility in this world.

Dryads and the places they find sacred have been and will be under attack in one way or another. Be natural disasters, plague or invaders, they are aware the time may come when their sacred root system is threatened. Obviously, they will fight to the death to ensure its survival, but sometimes they must accept the fact that victory is not possible. A raging forest fire may not be able to be stopped before it consumes all, an invading force may be too strong to push back. When this happens, dryadkind knows it is best to salvage what they can, lest all is lost. Obviously, one cannot uproot a tree and carry it to safety. It isn't possible to rip out an extensive network of roots and mycelium for transplanting. Doing so would kill it, and thus erase their past. But with the use of magic, a vital chunk of this may be given life and an easier to move form.

Clonal Elementals are essentially living containers, given the vital task of moving dryad networks to safer places. They are not big enough to carry the entire biomass, but one must remember how cuttings work. Sometimes, a single piece is enough to save and regrow an entire species, and that is how the Clonal Elemental works. By transplanting this piece of the network elsewhere, all that was once contained within the previous system is saved. Their ancestors can live on, their wealth of knowledge and comfort preserved for future generations. So even if their forest homes burn, dryads can find peace and hope in the fact that not all was lost.

The life of a Clonal Elemental is obviously pretty short, as they are created to simply move plant matter from one location to the next. Yet, these existences are vital and fiercely guarded. It should be no wonder why these elementals are rarely seen by non-dryads, and why any dryad would throw themselves into danger to keep them safe. For when these beings are returned to the earth, the past is saved, a new home will flourish and dryads will continue to thrive despite all odds and hardships.

There are some rumors and beliefs tied to the Clonal Elementals that wonder if they are capable of more. Obviously, the task they do now is vital, but think of all that is contained within them. A bottomless well of dryad souls, generations of knowledge and essence. And this being is the ward to all of this. Then look to see how life blooms after they have been planted, like an entire forest rising in a mere fraction of the time. Thus they can create life, but does that mean they can create dryads? Can they give those passed a new shot at life? Humans, and even some dryads, have pondered this. For man, it would explain how dryads are able to reproduce so quickly, how they have spread nearly as wide as humanity. And of course, this has been brought up in whispered conversations about the infamous and mysterious Pando Village. That isolated dryad community that feels half fiction and half fact. Those strange, strange dryads, whose origins remain unknown. Some wonder if their creation is the result of a Clonal Elemental, perhaps one that went very wrong. Some think darker magic is at play, others think an insidious plot, and one very loud and angry dryad would prefer to beat all those theorists in the head with a stick.

[reginaphalangelobster]

Animals

Fem!Reader x Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Thor, Stephen Strange, Wong

Fem!Reader x Loki (romantic)

Summary: Truth or dare takes an interesting turn.

Warnings: fun bickering, fluff, talk of sex, innuendos

Notes: This is just some randomness that fell out of my head, it may be crazy but I thought it was kinda funny and cute, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.1k

It was the weekly game night at the tower and you were all on couches in the common room. You sat on Loki's lap because he insisted there was certainly no room anywhere else, but you didn't mind. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist and the other was across your knees, his hand brushing your thigh gently.

"Truth or dare?" Tony asked you.

"Truth"

"Okay.....What's the weirdest thing you've ever thought about one of us?"

"If Strange shaved off his goatee, he'd look like an otter" You answered almost instantly, slightly alarming everyone else.

"An otter?! You think I look like an otter?!"

"Hey, Tony's the one who asked"

"I just thought you were gonna say sex dream or some kind of weird sex thing you and Loki do, not that" Tony replied, laughing his ass off.

"We don't do weird sex things!"

"Darling, do you not remember last Tuesday?"

"Oh, right" You giggled a little, thinking about that night.

"She's right" Wong added.

"Oh my God what's wrong with you?!" Clint squawked.

"Not that, Strange, he does have an otter-like quality"

"Wong! I do NOT look like an otter!"

"Lady Y/n does seem to have a point" Thor concluded while tilting his head like a little puppy.

"I can see it" Steve said.

"I do NOT look like an otter!"

"Aww! He looks even more ottery when he's angry!" You squealed.

"Is that a word, ottery?" Bruce asked.

"I don't think so, but it should be" Nat said.

"Lady Y/n, do you think any of the rest of us look like animals?"

"Not particularly but some of you do have certain personality similarities"

"You mustn't use such large words with my brother, he has difficulties as it is"

"Loki!"

"Like you two, Loki, you're a black cat, not just because you use your magic to turn into one and Thor is a golden retriever"

"The canine?"

"Yep, Cap's a Labrador"

"You think I'm a Labrador?"

"You just have that kind of energy, fiercely loyal, some may say not intelligent but really you just have a hard time understanding certain things, and you're adorable"

"Y-You think I'm adorable?" He asked, blushing.

"Yeah, I think everyone does"

"Yep"

"Mhm"

"Yes"

"Quite so"

"Yeah"

"Well um, thanks guys"

"Lady Y/n, can you please explain why I am a golden, what did you say?"

"Retriever and you can drop the formal title, Y/n's fine"

"As you wish"

"Well it's very similar to a Labrador but mainly just more silly, cuddly and longer hair, that make sense?"

"I believe so"

"What about me? Why am I a cat?"

"A black cat specifically, likes to be alone, will scratch anyone who gets too close but will cuddle up and be adorable with someone, only really likes that one person and would attack anyone apposing them, the whole mysterious bad omen crap that means nothing because there is nothing bad about you or black cats and of course the Golden Retriever thing, not to mention the collar"

"And what thing would that be?"

"Golden Retrievers and black cats, have you never heard of their thing?"

"What thing?"

You pull out your phone and bring up pictures of the two animals together "Here, look"

"They are truly some of the cutest creatures in the nine realms"

"Yeah, lots of people compare you and Thor to them actually, not just me"

"They do?"

"Yep" You show him a bunch of 'Brodinsons' memes.

"They call us the Brodinsons?"

"Yeah, they have for a long time"

"I won't lie, it's a catchy name"

"Is anyone else an animal?" Thor asks.

"Peter"

"Ooh! What animal am I?"

"I mean this in the best possible way, but either a ferret or a squirrel on cocaine"

"Yeah I've gotten that before"

"Wh-You have?!" Tony squawks.

"Mhm, for years now"

"Although, when you aren't showing any emotion at all, totally blank face, you kind of look like you have a frog in your mouth"

"I do?!" Peter ran off to the bathroom to look in a mirror then came running back out "I do! This, this may have just changed my life forever"

"Okay sweetie, you're coming down fast, why do you just sit down for a minute"

"Coming down?"

"Yeah, the cocaine thing"

"Oh, right, sorry, just, weird"

"Peter Benjamin Parker, have you been drinking coffee?" Tony near scolded.

"No?"

"Go have a drink of milk or something, you are way too mental on coffee"

"Okay" Peter says a little sadly as he walks into the kitchen.

"Any more animals?" Thor asks again.

"Nat's an tiger"

"I'll take that"

"Sam, pigeon"

"Hey! Falcon!"

"Mmmm, you're a pigeon buddy"

"Steve!"

"Sorry Sam, she's right"

"This is so unfair, Nat got tiger"

"Yeah, I did, Wilson"

"Yeah yep she's a tiger"

"Clint, some other kind of bird, not sure which"

"A hawk?"

"Nah, a um, no, not a bird, a flying possum"

"A possum?!"

"Oh man, that's worst than pigeon" Sam laughed.

"No, it's not"

"Tony's a dolphin"

"Really? One of the smartest animals in the world?" He asks, smugly.

"Yeah super smart and acts like a dick"

"Ooh!" Sam howls.

"Hey! Meerkats are bigger dicks" Tony replies.

"True"

"Bucky's a hedgehog"

"And how's that, doll?"

"Prickly scary exterior but really soft sweet and super adorable on the inside"

"I'm not adorable"

"Oh you so are! Like when you do that silly little pout, yeah that! Adorable, case closed"

"Once again she's right, Buck"

"Bruce, Quokka"

"Thank you"

"A-"

"Excuse me L-" Thor stopped himself "Y/n. What is a Quokka?"

"One of the cutest little things in the world" You pull up a picture on the TV and you hear a chorus of aws.

"I agree, that creature does resemble Banner"

"What about you, darling?" Loki asked.

"Me? I'd have to say Chinchlla"

"What's that?"

You show another photo and everyone aws again "They're very intelligent, inquisitive and they love mischief"

"Darling" Loki says softly, squeezing you a little tighter.

"You know, Chinchillas are rodents.....and cats eat rodents"

"Good idea, my love"

"Night guys!" You call over your shoulder as you and Loki scurry off to your room.

"I hate when they do that" Tony says.

"Come on, Tony. They're in love!" Steve said gleefully.

"Not that, the innuendos. They're so obvious"

"There was an innuendo? What was it?"

"Aw Stevie, sweet, naive Stevie. I'll tell you when you're older"

"I'm over a hundred Tony"

"Yeah, it's kind of embarrassing"

Bucky leaned over and whispered to Steve, making him blush.

"Oh, I um, I didn't know that's what they meant"

Tags:

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[muses-galore]

*So it seemed the two of them had their secrets but now they were laid bare. After all hearing all this there was no way Akihiko couldn't. Especially if what Ruka said was true and there was some sort of way to alter the past. It would put him more at risk and besides he could possibly have the potential to see the dark hour anyway.

Although hearing all this from him Akihiko attempted to console him. His social skills themself were lacking but he wasn't as emotionally dense as people thought.*

"I'll see if I can convince the Chairman and Mitsuru if you and your friend can stay with us. Although you shouldn't feel sad about not wanting to be the small and weak one. No one is born to fit into a certain role...if that were the case I wouldn't be who I am right now.

I'd still be crying over every little thing...since we're sharing everything I may as well tell you. It's not something I've told most of the other members either. I lost my sister in a fire...I wanted to save her but the adults stopped me. I was powerless to do a single thing and she died. I made a vow that day that I would be stronger so I could protect my friends and those close to me.

As for that thirteenth hour...we call it the dark hour. Most people are transmogrified into coffins or rather they are sleeping inside those coffins, unaware of that is happening during that time. There are creatures known as shadows attack during that hour as well leading to incidents people here call apathy syndrome. Although that being said there are people who can fight the shadows...everyone here in this dorm.

You were probably wondering why we were given such a big dorm when there not that many of us, that's why. It's convenient for us to live under the same roof for our operations. Especially when we need to make our way up to Tartarus...the shadow's nest."

*Akihiko would stop there for now with the explainations, after all both of them have probably a lot to process. Besides the male could practically feel an ominous presence from the otherside of his door. A sign he was going to have to speak to Mitsuru sooner than expected, a conversation the male was not looking forward to but a necessary one now that both he and Ruka laid their cards on the table.*

*Akihiko was going to have some serious explaining to Mitsuru and the rest of the team but he was going to let Ruka in on their secret, starting with something basic.*

"Try me, I mean if I said there was a thirteenth hour most people would look like I'm crazy but it's there all the same, it's just normal people don't experience it first hand."