#intro post incoming

[fir-fireweed]

Just gonna drop this here and run…

[ro-is-futile]

idk how i missed this the first time but Miranda Hamilton was so cunt omg?? she saw Flint once and decided to start a throuple detrimental to order in the New World. she fucked the pastor of a congregation cause she was bored and wanted to mess with him. she got her pirate boyfriend to murder her father in law cause he did her dirt years prior. Miranda if you have no fans I'm dead

[hellish-acts]

Introduction of your host on this blog!>_<

Hello hello! Pleasure to greet all you sinners here!

I will be your host, Snake, guiding you through my hellish rambles and rants of the game known as What in Hell is Bad?

Brief intro of your host! Snake is what you will call me by, and I would prefer if they/them pronouns are used on me! Unlabeled and Aroace(but taken by my gorgeous bf, who isn't related but ye!)

Tho brief warning too, this dear host of yours is a Neurodivergent + an Insomniac + Half colorblind + Dyslexic and finally has Anxiety!(yes I know, lots of issues heh)

Obviously as your host, I can also draw(thought not as good as others so excuse me hehe!^^) and write, officially graduated from yapperdemic/j

Slow updates because reality exist and I unfortunately can't always stay in hell. So I appearciate it if you sinners can forgive me!

Anyways, hope you all have an enjoyable stay in hell, don't forget to always act to your desires and don't bottle 'em up!

Toodles my beloved sinners>_<!

MASTERLIST

[askblackrock]

Testing? Testing?

Ok! This works.

Hello, my name is Dr. Subspace T. Mine. I am the head of the robotic department in Blackrock, and the project lead for Crystal Research! I thought that it'd be good for moral to make this for questions and discussions!

I also managed to drag a few of my coworkers and one of my creations into this, so I'll let them introduce themselves!

...

Hi? I don't... see why this is necessary, but... Apparently its good for "the mood" or something. My name is Medkit. I work in the robotics department with a focus in biorobotics. Uh. I also work on the crystal research? Subspace had to fight to keep me on the team.

AND MY DESIGNATION IS BIOGRAFT B-178-A. MY ORIGINAL PURPOSE WAS DEFENSE, BUT I AM CURRENTLY ASSIGNED TO DR. MEDKIT.

Aaand you can also send messages to Hyperbike or Dr. Q██████ █████████, one of my bosses! Maybe even Hyperlaser if I can get a hold of him. Please ask away!

Please do not be weird.

Hi there! This blog is primarily ran by a pair of introjects (but please do not associate everything said as us 👍 while the characters and interpretations are losely based on source memories were still our own people)

ASKS AND ANON ASKS ARE BOTH WELCOME! feel free to sign off if youd like to be given an anon name. You can also send asks as canon characters (obviously minus Medkit, Subspace, and Hyperlaser). Or ocs! I have oc/anon concept ideas if you want them.

Refer to us, the mod, as it/its or neopronouns please!

This blog is very canon divergent and it follows a timeline in which Medkit couldn't escape Blackrock due to getting caught during this.

When sending asks, please make sure to clarify who they're sent to! Include some sort of indicator. And if its to the mod, include "OOC" in your message!

Tags are as follows:

Screaming into the void: Out of Character

INCOMING TRANSMISSION: ask tag!

Head of Robotics ; Subspace: Answered by Subspace

Blackrock's Example ; Medkit: Answered by Medkit

Track and Follow ; B-178-A: Answered by Biograft B-178-A (OC)

Blackrock's Best ; Hyperlaser: Answered by Hyperlaser

The Man in the Chair ; Hyperbike: Answered by Hyperbike (OC)

Mastermind ; Dr. Q: Answered by Dr. Q (OC)

[bisexualtimelord]

BIGGEST LIE I EVER SAID !

i just tripped, and fell into his bed. —

ODYSSEUS/SIRIUS/CYRIS AND MORE !

THEY/HE. this is my art blog !

MINOR !!

//i’ll add more when i feel like it.

©bisexualtimelord on tumblr. do not repost, edit, or trace my art. thank you!

[blueberrythefrog]

I should probably update my intro card.. I need to add that Kinitopet is a current fixation!!!! How could I forget, if my blog is themed around it right now!?!? Goodness, I am forgetful!! Also here have pirate cat that I edited;

[bisc-ie]

Hi, it's biscuit (or bisc, whatever)

Trying to lightly edit my @ into something cute don't mind me

BY THE WAY, GONNA TAKE THE CHANCE TO PUT THIS ON MY PINNED BUT. I don't like it when people dm me without as much as a heads up, it makes me queasy and uncomfy.

[tiredmilkshake]

Yall dont know it but milk’s cooking rn

psssst don’t tell the masses

[shrike-sorokoput]

I would say I'm settling in quite nicely. I've found a way to get what this place considers money: to kill monsters, just as that devil told me. It's what I'm good at, it's what I've been doing for many years now, and so it's reasonably easy. 

A couple of days ago, though, I killed a giant rat. It didn't seem sentient, so I didn't think about it too hard at first, but then I got home, and my rat friend was there, and I refused to tell it about my day. I'm sure it understands — can probably smell its kind on me. It didn't act like I did anything wrong, though, and I suppose then it is a kinder guide than my master is.

It feels like blasphemy to write that last bit, though…

Onto other happenings: apparently, there is a little urchin boy on my roof. He reminded me of something or someone (I can't remember things again, damn it), and so I let him in to warm up. Can't help but feel compassion for these children. He was so cold. Just a small fellow. I wonder if he has any family…

The rat told me about the others it helped. Apparently it's just what it does. I might ask it about rat-catching later. I want to determine just how sensitive of a topic that is first….

It’s weird. On the surface, violent things like these were not normal. I was not normal, and my master always told me it was in my nature to be violent. Here, it seems, many are like me. The rat told me about so many others. It’s not a thought I’m used to thinking. I wish I could ask my master for advice. It’s difficult to be without guidance, and I’m not sure the rat would understand.

Finally, some people here have squid for faces, and some seem to be made of clay, and I suppose that my job is not to ask very many questions. After all, nobody has asked too much about me so far. It would only be fair. I should really go and be polite to the coleman.

[mambodork]

The stupid scarian fantasy divorce au masterpost

Yeahg. Scarian but they're like in a fantasy world and super duper old and also (this is the juicy part) DIVORCED !! Jimmy is also here, we love him

☆ Quick intro post

☆ Magic system & additional designs

☆ Random doodles

☆ Early days

☆ More early days

☆ Scratch my bellayyy

☆ Additional dragon lore & Scar's chair

☆ Drawing of them under a tree

☆ Scar's dresses

☆ fic (incoming)

Tags:

☆ Main tag

☆ Asks

[cheswirls]

i started this ml sketch back in 2021 and have successively redone it so many times since and i think..... fingers crossed!!!!!! that i like this version from last night enough to maybe color or do something past sketching at least

[oystermark]

reaper gn!reader x rex splode (here's the intro to the reader) (first paragraph is taken from that post, think of this as like..another route in a dating game..? also not proofread.)

after a rather rough mission of going around the hospital to ... help, you just... broke down on the floor at your last patient's door. you were giving them peace, sure, your touch wa making them feel as close as they can get to heaven with how...warm the sensation you bring them, sure, but you cannot, ever touch another being. to you, your touch only brings about destruction, you can never get too close you can never touch, hug, kiss, love another being.

your instincts screamed at you to pull your body backwards as you feel another person's warmth way too close to you then they should be if they want to stay alive. with an unknowingly harsh gaze at the person in front of you you pulled back and picked yourself up with your wobbly legs. he held up his hands in front of himself as he spoke,

"heeey, relax, i didn't mean to startle you that bad, i mean i didn't mean to startle you at all but you just looked reaaaally down there, physically and emotionally it looks like and i-"

you caught his rambling off with a raised hand, wiping your eyes harshly with the back of your other hand as you spoke, your tone barely above a whisper, "don't touch me if you want to stay alive," his eyes widened and he let out a laugh out of reflex, "hey, come on do i look that bad? i mean yes i did fight some aliens and probably do not smell my best but," he looked you up and down, checking you out and assesing your state at the same time, "would hate to leave a bad impression on someone like you,"

you shook your hand and took another step backwards, "its not...its not any of those reasons its my power," you swallowed dryly as you teared your gaze away from him, as soon as you tell anyone of your powers they either; look at you with pity, get scared shitless, were already weirded out by your eyes and purple arms and your power being more than enough to make them run away, or they just awkwardly tried to prod you to give more information which cecil prohibited you from doing so.

and you've had enough emotional tax write offs today to see any of those expressions on his face, "my touch kills any and all living beings. anywhere on my body, every spot is imminent death for you," your hand shot up to find your pulse to soothe yourself, out of habit, the soft thrum of it calming your nerves a little.

rex takes note of this cute habit.

"so, just, don't touch me," you finally look up at him for a second, just to make your apology actually sincere, "sorry for the reaction", your hand still slowly rubbing over your pulse, you can feel your nails digging a little bit but it just grounds you. habits are not easy to drop after all.

"ah i see,"

here it comes, the pity, the prodding, the horror.

to your surprise, he chuckles, "that's...so powerful, holy shit," you finally look at him with wide eyes, taking all of him in for the first time since he interrupted your incoming panic attack, and, it pains you to say, he's really attractive.

your eyes look at him and back on the ground, your feet finally facing his direction, not thinking of running away anymore, and your hand drops from the spot of your pulse, "you..." you look back up to his face, "you're not like, scared, or like- um," he shakes his head and takes one step closer to you which makes your heart lurch in alarm, "that is.. harrowing but also so fucking cool, like, hauntingly cool,"

you...don't know how to respond to that, only wrapping your cloak around your body a little tighter, your fingers twitching with the want to pull the hood of your cloak back on, but before you can do anything else you hear him take his goggles off and then it is thrust into your sight.

he's looking at you expectantly as he's holding the one of the strap of the goggles, you look at him with confusion written all over your -adorable, to him- face, and his smile widens, "we can hold hands like this then, yeah? i mean, if its too much you can tell me to fuck off and i can forget all this but you looked like you wanted company so i thought-" he is, once again, interrupted as you grab onto the goggles with a shaking hand.

seeing your fingers shake so much just from a simple offer like this... broke his heart, he doesn't know why he's even doing this it just..felt like he should, you looked like you needed someone to tell you it's going to be okay and goddamn it he wants to help someone today after that invasion fiasco.

you take one step forward and a whiff of...something light and, lavender hits his nose.

is this what death smells like? way less grim then he imagined.

"let's take a walk together out of this place, stuck in this damn white prison is going to drive me mad,"

you chuckle softly and he feels like his heart is about to burst, guilt in the vision of eve's face flashes through his brain for a second but he pays it no mind. its just...your power and presence that has him captivated, nothing more.

"let's go, then"

and when you mutter those words, the warmth of your voice cages his heart as guilt strikes deep.

he is so fucked.

[northopalshore]

☆BLOG MENU ☆

"Time's arrow neither stands still nor reverses. It merely marches forward".

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"who is northopalshore? check the blog archive to find out! "

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↪bad b*tch placements

↪chiron and trauma

↪sexual asteroids

↪groom & briede PC obsvns

↪commitment indicators

↪pluto & venus synastry; logic

♀[Persona chart observations ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

Miscellaneous

↪MC persona chart masterlist

↪Juno persona chart masterlist

↪Groom persona chart masterlist

↪Briede persona chart masterlist

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↪alma persona chart observations I

↪descendant persona chart

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Ascendant Persona chart

↪ascendant persona chart

↪asc persona chart intro

↪ you & your partner: ascendant persona chart

↪observations i

♀[Northopalshore list ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ] @northopalshore

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↪boda persona chart

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↪derivative astrology

↪significant numbers?

♀[Houses series ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪11th house & your friends

♀ Pick a cards ♡

↪your future spouse

↪your next relationship

↪next 3 months

♀[Lunar Return ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪LRC Masterlist

♀[Celebrity birth chart interpretations ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪ celebrity astrology masterlist

♀[Synastry observations ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪juno & POF in composite & synastry

↪moon aspecting neptune

↪6th house synastry

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♀[Composite observations ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪romantic composite chart I

♀[18+ astrology observations ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪mini sexual astrology observations

↪s*xual synastry ask 1

↪sexual synastry ask 2

↪kitty conjunct MC synastry

♀[Solar return chart observations ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪personal 2023/2024

↪personal 2024/2025

♀[Love asteroids ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪lovelock

♀[Spouse Indicators˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪their reputation

↪briede in the natal chart

↪predicting FS's rising sign

↪Wealthy spouse indicators

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↪attractive spouse indicators

↪"Provider" Spouse Indicators

↪"The One" indicators

↪The 8th house & spouse income

↪Older spouse indicators

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↪ extroverted spouse indicators

♀[Others ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ]

↪Polyamorous indicators

↪placements prone to black magic

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↪predicting your wedding dress

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♆ [Available past lineups]

décembre, février, juin ,....

about me : Gaia...?????

˚₊‧꒰ა˚₊‧ ˚₊. ‧ ˚₊‧ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ personal info ˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅˚₊‧ ˚₊‧ ˚₊‧ ˚₊‧₊‧ ˚ ໒꒱ ‧₊

Hi! I'm Gaia ♡ Welcome to my blog! I'm a 21 year old esoteric enthusiast who's constantly studying & experimenting with astrology and tarot knowledge during leisure time. All of my posts are based on personal experience & observations from friends and existing individuals.

Other information:

INFJ, life path 3, Southeast asian. Sun (29°) & pluto in 10th H. Scorpio mars, Sagittarius venus & mercury stellium in the 9th house, pisces rising, aries moon (28°), Uranus & Neptune 12th house idols

FS's favourite cards , about asc persona charts, about asks, manifestation , purchasing a star, fav sign, fate, selfies♡, selca ii, ❤️‍🩹, selca iii , TikTok, disclaimer

Stay tuned for more content from this blog.

want to support me? Ko-fi

@northopalshore 2024 all rights reserved.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Hold On You 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, bullying, depression, controlling and abusive behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to look on the bright side of life but a man comes along to blot out the sun.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your eyes narrow as you hunch over the folding TV table. You work at tamping the felt in just the right shape. The headless body, made of metal wire encased in more felt sits on the corner, awaiting its final touch. Your vision is cloudy at the edges. You let yourself have a cry last night at the cost of puffy eyes today. Those grey moods exhaust you.

You sigh as you blend the grey black and white. The small raccoon will be the first of many. At least twelve for stock. 

A hobby and some extra income. You need it since they cut your hours to part-time. All the data entry firms are. You read on a forum that AI is slowly depleting the field. You don't relish going back to customer service... you're not very good at it. You can hardly make yourself smile at your reflection.

You sniff. You look up at the corner shelf, stuffed with similar figures to the one in pieces before you. Squirrels, bunnies, lots of cats. Those are a best-seller.

You put the head and needle down. You can't focus. Usually, the work puts a pause on the gloom. The grey sky outside your windows doesn't help. You sit back and press your hand around your forehead. You knead your temples with your thumbs.

It's too quiet. Well, not exactly. You can hear Katy yelling at her teens and Mr. Burton is hammering on the wall again. He needs to just call the building for whatever he keeps trying to fix. Or maybe he's breaking it?

You get up and go to the record player. You lay on the one album you've yet to listen to. That new poppy hit. It's probably a few years too young for you. You're in the limbo between twenty-five and thirty. A murky no man's land where all your friends are newly married, freshly pregnant, or celebrating promotions. You're doing neither of those.

You let the record spin the intro and retreat to the sagging armchair. The seat is molded to your shape but not comfy. You lean on the high armrest and close your eyes.

Oh, I leave quite an impression Five feet to be exact You're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin' My body's where they're at

You chew your cheek as you follow the lyrics as best you can. Scandalizing, scintillating, sexy. Not you. Maybe that was a bad choice. This is music for the young girls with their long lashes and coy glossy smiles. That was never you.

Affairs, flings, hookups, whatever the young ones say...situationships? You're not the type. You're not good for it. Too sad. Too quiet. You overheard the giggly whispering. It's your own fault you don't see your friends. Or that they aren't your friends anymore. 

Knowing what they really think of you... you're not good at pretending like that. You can smile, you can chirp, you can run a script with stranger, but they were supposed to actually like you.

Choices can be liberating but they can also be oppressive. Cut the cord and you're free falling into the void. You sit up as the next song starts.

I know I have good judgment, I know I have good taste It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way I promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes But just don't

You wish you had that confidence. You get up and turn down the volume so you can hear the melody but the lyrics are obscured. You shuffle over to the couch and flop onto it. You're tired. Another night wasted.

🧡

Punk Rock Market. You've never been to one. Never heard of one. The flyer was mixed in with your mail. Bills, adds, some religious pamphlet. It was the only thing that piqued your interest. You keep it on your fridge until the date of. 

You clutch it in your sweaty hand. It wrinkles as you keep checking the address. It's at an intersection. Hmmm. Okay. You think you know the one.

It's a few blocks further than you thought. You follow the swell of pedestrians into the browning green square. The grass is flattened from the traffic. Second thoughts slow your steps but the tides of patrons keep you moving.

You stop to look at jade and quartz medallions. Hand-made as the signs proclaim. The women behind the stall table have thickly-winged liner and lots of piercings. Their hair is shades of burnt-out bleach blond and pastels. One asks if you're looking for something in particular.

"Just look, I guess," you answer with a shrug. You bend to examine a cuff with opal. "Very pretty."

They don't hear you as they're already more interested in a customer who looks more like them. You move on. It's not unusual. Those who notice you, don't for long. Or if they do, it's never a good thing.

You stop to admire some hand-sewn dolls with twists of cotton for hair. You sell most of your things online, or a few places let you buy half a shelf for display, though they don't sell many. Something like this might be a good idea but you saw the prices for the other markets... you don't have that sort of overhead.

You're edged out of the stall by a group of platformed-booted shoppers. You back away and collide with a stroller. You spin and apologise, a glower from the mother and her husband as you do. You're trapped between them and the distracted group behind you.

Your heart picks up. You should've expected crowds but this is a bit much. You look around. You'll only hit the stroller again or someone else. You search until you see your only hope of escape. Between the stalls, right past the empty crates and thick electrical wires.

You flee, keeping your head down in case one of the sellers thinks to stop you. Your pulse tempos behind your eardrums. You curl around the back of the stalls and race toward the park entrance. You're going to call it another fail.

You slip out between a stall and the post of the banner for the market event. You're nearly taken off your feet as someone entering hits you with their arm. A rather thick arm that has you reeling and rubbing your side. You back up as the figure stops with a gruff growl.

It can't be. You're sure you recognise them. It's almost impossible to run into the same face twice in the city. Yet, your luck has always been grimly ironic.

As the deja vu clicks. You gulp. It's the man from the record store. You pout.

"Sorry, I..."

"What're you creeping around for?" He snarls.

"I... I was leaving--"

"Why were you back there?" He asks.

"Huh, oh, I got lost--"

"Dude, chill," his buddy peeks past him. "Place is packed."

The man's fist opens and closes, drawing your attention as his jaw grits. "I could get... through." You eke out.

"You," he raises his gloved hand and points in your face. "Girly pop."

You blink. Oh no. He remembers you.

"I..." you shrug. "Sorry, excuse me," you try to slip by and he catches your arm. 

"You didn't answer me. What were you up to?" He drags you back as others grumble behind you, pushing to get into the park.

"Yo, she told you," his friend jabs. "Chill, Buck. Let's get going."

He narrows his eyes as his forehead lines. He squeezes until you feel your blood struggling to course past the tension. He lets you go with a subtle shove.

"Whatever," he turns back to his pal. "Let's go find that oil or whatever you were going on about."

He stalks by and you turn to watch him. He's not a very happy person but neither are you. You turn and flee before he can have second thoughts. Strange how his friend seemed familiar too.

You head down the street and reach for your phone. Maybe you'll find something else. Going back to your apartment just means giving in to the grey. It's a sunny day, you want to enjoy it.

There's a cafe near here. They boast of nitro brew and protein coffee. You're not sure of either but they must have tea.

You get lost a block down and have to back track. You can be so clueless. You finally find the front door, though it is easy to miss. Black windows, black glass, like some sort of secret meetup.

You enter and join the line. It's not much less crowded than the park. You wait patiently for your turn and order the 'booster' tea.

You shove your hand deep into your satchel. You fish around frantically. Your wallet? Where is it? You blink helplessly at the employee behind the counter and apologise.

You run out and look up and down the street. Your wallet is gone. You feel around your pockets and all over. You retrace your steps, along your detour and back to the market. You gape into the sea of people. There's no way you'll find it!

What can you do? Cancel your card and figure out how to replace your IDs... figures. Nothing nice ever happens. Every idea you have is just a mistake. Go home. Stop trying.

🧡

The New York skyline looms darkly through the windows. The moonless night invades your apartment, the single lamp doing little to light the space. You sit in its glow, shoulders wracked, neck bent, tediously poking the pattern into the felt. The leopard was an optimistic choice in subject.

The record player turns. Etta croons richly as the clock ticks on. It's midnight, probably later. You haven't checked in some time. You can't sleep but you also can't bare to lay and stare at the ceiling.

Your tendons strain with your efforts. Everything is so precise. Your fingers feel as if they might lock into place. Your head is throbbing.

The record plays through Side B and the player clicks. You don't get up to stop it for some time. Your hands shake as you put the needle back and hit the power button.

You push your head back and stretch out the kinks. Your stomach clutches with hunger. Dinner is in the fridge still. You didn't bother reheating the pasta.

You close your eyes as you rub your cheeks. You yawn then drop your arms. You look around the empty box you live in.

You flinch. The windows are so dark, obscured with the reflection of the lamp, yet you swear you can see something. You shake your head. You're imagining it.

You got back to the table and gather up the felt and unfinished project. You have a few new orders. You need to go get some packing stuff to send them out. You tuck it away in the shoe box and slide it onto the cube shelf beneath the record player.

Tap, tap.

You raise your head and look over your shoulder. Something must have bounced off the window yet there's no wind, no rain. The weather is painfully still.

You ignore it and stand. You go back to the table to shut off the lamp.

Tap. Just one but louder. You keep your fingers on the switch attached to the wire but don't flick it. You glance over.

Slap. Something presses to the pane. You can't tell what it is. Small, rectangle. You near as your adrenaline flows and your heartbeat thrums. Something tells you to go back but it's impossible that anyone could be there. There's no fire escape, no balcony. The building is short a few codes.

You stop at the window as your face stares back. The small image on your ID where you don't smile, just stare. DOB, height, number...

Another face appears behind the small card. A scream blooms in your chest but can't escape as the man stares back at you. He taps again. How on earth did he get out there? That man. That one from the record shop and the market. The one you seem to plague more than your own sanity.

He tilts his head and mouths. 'Let me in.'

[saphig-iawn]

Springtime with Miss Saphi

Hello darlings!

I have had a quite a nice little break, and its given me time to think about how I want to progress as everyone's Welsh hypnotic witch. Below the cut is a big ol' post about how I do what I do. I will talk about my sessions, my writing, and my audio files. If you're interested then click on and keep reading. If not, and you're just happy to see I'm back, then thank you so much for the support and love.

💝

So, for the darlings who are still here, I've broken things down into 4 or so chunks that I feel tend to each part of what I do as a kinky creative. So, first up:

Sessions

Sessions are one of the main ways I keep my little business running. These are remaining largely the same, but I want to take this opportunity to explain a little about how they work, and what I'm doing to change them.

The prices aren't changing at this point in time, even though a lot of people have said that I am undercharging quite a lot. There is one big thing that is in the way of me doing so which is that, times are really tough right now. People don't have as much money to spend as they wish and things that felt safe and predictable are now not. With this being my only income too, I know how it can be when you feel like you have to choose between the things you enjoy and the worry and anxiety that comes with making a purchase that doesn't live up to what you wanted. I would feel so tremendously guilty charging more because of how things are right now, and so I'm finding ways for people to enjoy what I make in more accessible ways that also still support me (more on that later).

Firstly, I am remaking my intake form. I feel I need to do more to set expectations within it. I am a hypnotist, first and foremost, and a domme second if the scene or session permits. Between the sessions, I am not a Domme. I tried to be, and it began to make me quite sick. It would also be unsafe. I have a lot going on (as you'll see reading further along) and I would not be able to devote the attention needed to make sure that the domme side of things was done safely. Ultimately, the Miss Saphi you see in my posts and my writing and my audio and my sessions is going to remain in the content I make.

Secondly, what actually are my sessions about? In basic terms, you come to me, we negotiate the content of the session/scene, figure out boundaries, then we set out a date and time. The intro session is very much like this too, but a little more structured and strict in its content. I don't tolerate "I have no limits" or "Do anything to me" kinds of play partners. Much like hypnosis, everything we do is collaborative, even if I am the one leading the scene. It is a give and a take.

What they are not is me becoming more than a hypnotist in a few capacities. As I said above, I'm not a capital D domme, so what we do is in our sessions and that is it. I am also not a confidant or, to be reductionist, a therapist. While my work is warm and welcoming and I put forward a very caring environment, there are only so many things I can do. Providing you a safe space, in which you are always in control, to explore hypnosis and kink? I can do that. Flirting and teasing via text at any of day and maintaining play and scenes outside of my working hours? That is something I cannot do.

If you want a little teasing, my posts are the best and only place for it.

Talking of which.

Writing & Reblogs

I have been slacking on writing. I feel a good chunk of this was down to burnout.

My writing comes in three forms: session writeups, fiction, and posts.

When it comes to session writeups, I have a big backlog that I want to get through. I have had amazing sessions with beautiful people from all walks of identity and gender, and I feel sharing their experiences are good things. To be transparent, writing about these sessions has two functions: first, they share the wonderful experiences of hypnosis that is a bit different to what is usually out there. I've seen, time and time again, how people love that my kind of hypnosis is framed in a more caring and safe way. Second, they advertise. They show what I can do, what people enjoy, and that someone could have an experience with me themselves. Everyone I write about gives express consent and understands this. A business, of any kind, needs to reach out, and I want to do it a way that provides and isn't intrusive.

Fiction is something I want to get back to doing. It allows me to flex my writing while giving something different and fantastical to you. There are thing that my hypnosis cannot do, and fiction is where those fantasies can flourish. It also allows me to explore characters and places through the lenses of hypnosis and magic. Melody and Dina, my two witches who can't seem to catch a break, the wider myths and stories of Miss Saphi, and whatever ideas come to my mind or come to yours with commissions.

Then we have posts. These are like indulgent snacks compared to my writeups and fiction. I like to make these because I may have an idea in my head that maybe doesn't have the room to grow into something bigger, but should still be shared. They also allow me to interact with you lovely folk in the reblogs. Admittedly, interactions have become something that I want to look at a little differently. I do so love responding to you all and inviting you in to my little world of magic, but that also means I'm not doing other things while I'm responding to people. I don't want to stop responding to people, but I now know I can't respond to everyone. So please, if you reach out to me through my writing, know that I do see it, and that if I don't comment or react, it isn't because of you or anything you've done.

Audio

I have been having so much fun with making audio, but lots of things got in the way of me doing more.

I have them forming in two categories for me: hypnosis and narration.

With the former, I would like to begin provide hypnotic and hypnotic adjacent experiences. I want to create audio files that do what they can to emulate what I provide in my sessions, and avoid a lot of the pit falls that audio files seem to do. It also means that the people who want to try my sessions can do so in some capacity without needing to commission me. I've seen so many lovely folk tell me that they'd love to have a session with me but things get in the way, so this would provide something for them as well. With these audio files I hope they give the experience I want them to give, provide a creative outlet for myself, and to also provide a means for people who were able to have a session but were unsure or tentative, have more of an understanding and experience; a try-before-you-buy.

With my narrations, I want these to occupy a similar space that ASMR audio and roleplay does. Consider them stories that I tell you that can begin to feel a little real if you so wished. With regards to my work, they will sit between my fiction writing and hypno audio, something fantastical that might just suck you in if you want it to.

Support

As I've said, my sessions are my main form of support right now, with tips/donations right behind them.

I want to bolster my Patreon so it becomes a more accessible way for people to support me and my work.

Buying sessions is a scary thing, they're quite big, they're an unknown for a lot of people, and so I feel that my Patreon can be a place for people to engage with me in a way that supports me and is more respectful of them.

I am aiming to put new fiction and new audio on Patreon first.

I also want to create content that would be exclusive to Patreon. This is not to arbitrarily paywall. This is for the content that takes more to produce and create. This would include more involved audio roleplays and hypno content, and fiction.

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Thank you if you got this far, that means a lot more to me than you might think. I am overjoyed that I get to do this, and I want to do so much more, and I hope you all will be here while I do it.

As a treat for reading all of that, here's what I'm going to do next. I'm going to release my first audio roleplay. It is about you visiting my cottage because you've wanted to have a session with me but you're not too sure. So, I sit you down in my cottage and talk to you about how my magic works. I do this in my intro session, and I feel its good to share for people. It isn't inherently made to entrance, but creates a safe space for those who may want to slip into my words.

[vaspider]

Intro Post, updated January 16, 2025.

Due to the unfortunate level of scam requests I have received, I no longer reblog donation or fundraiser requests from blogs I do not recognize. Don't follow me just to submit a signal boost request. I notice, & I will just delete your ask and block you.

No, that doesn't mean I think you, personally, are a scammer. I just don't have the hours in my day to sift through the number of asks I get and verify them, so if I don't recognize someone from prior interaction, I just won't do it. Yes, I agree. It does suck that shitty people have made this necessary.

I post all other asks as they were submitted, with the exception of fundraisers from blogs I don't recognize. I answer at my whim and not upon demand. I will never honor requests to answer asks privately or anonymously. Anon is never turned on. These are hard self-care boundaries. Please block the tag "harassment tag" if you don't want to see to some of the horrible shit I get sent sometimes.

I will only reblog/repost/boost a given fundraiser once every 7 days. Period. Sending me more asks will not change that. If you only interact with me to ask for signal boosts, I'll just block you with no response. That is the only exception to my "post all asks" policy. I am a person, not a public resource. Don't make me feel used. It's exhausting.

If you like what I do, please consider hiring me, buying something from my company, NerdyKeppie, buying me a coffee, becoming a Patron or tossing some money in my PayPal tip jar. I am a disabled, queer, Jewish, non-binary butch, and those sources plus freelance writing are my entire income.

Here is the cast of many of the frequently-mentioned entities in my posts.

I will not debate my identity with anyone. I am a transmasculine non-binary butch lesbian, a cripple, a dyke, and lots of other things, too. You don't get a vote in that, and if any of those words are words you object to someone using in reference to himself, block me. I won't censor my identity for your comfort; it took a lot of hard work over decades to become proud of who I am.

ACAB includes gender/sexuality cops. You aren't the mayor of Dyketown or the burgermeister of Transberg, so fuck off.

Mom is a job title to me. I'm okay with being called Mama Spider, but no other feminine terms.

No, I am not an anti or an anti-anti. Leave me alone.

No, I won't DM you.

No, I won't answer your question about Israel.

No, I won't talk to you about I/P.

Nothing above the above two things means anything other than that I don't talk about those things online.

Don't project your shit onto me. I do not consent to being your straw man.

I will not perform Good Jew or Good Queer on demand, whatever that means to you in this instant. Fuck off.

Yes, I've been out for a very long time. No, I'm not interested in being lectured by people half my age over shit that happened when you weren't alive yet.

"Man bad/woman good" is regressive TERF/right-wing shit, it doesn't matter how you dress it up. Knock it off.

Curate your own experiences. If you don't like seeing what I write, then add 'vaspider' to your "filtered content" list, and don't bother me about it. Tumblr is a 17+ environment, and I am not responsible for you seeing things you don't like. My daughter and stepkid are both old enough to drink. I raised my kids. I'm not raising you or any other kids.

Anyone who tries to turn you on your fellow workers or trans people or queer people or fellow Jews is doing the work of fascists for them. Act accordingly.

My icon has lore, apparently.

I never answer asks privately and anon is never turned on.