#Hairless Dog Brewing

[fionarara]

HIPSTER KENMA PART 2 WHEN PLEASEEEEE IM OBSESSED

nonni all caps ?? for hipster kenma ?? i thought this idea was an incredibly niche thing in my odd brain which would legit get like zero interaction, i straight up wrote it mostly for myself, so this is a v pleasant surprise (Ｔ▽Ｔ) also, this got longer than expected, but since you requested it with such enthusiasm, i wanted to add in a little extra detail as a treat for you ♡

+ hipster ! kenma . pt. 2 .

(+ part 1 ⇢)

+ hipster ! kenma who feeds his hairless sphynx cat gluten-free food, because he wouldn’t feed his cat a certain diet that he isn’t also on himself

+ hipster ! kenma who thinks much of the fashion industry’s antics are ridiculous for being so overpriced (and that some of their practices can be harmful to the environment), but will drop $375 bucks at a carefully curated, high-end, second-hand designer fashion shop in the arts district on a fresh pair of black jeans, ones that already come pre-ripped and are conveniently labeled as having a 'distressed' look. so edgy. clearly, who needs logical pricing when you can pay a premium to look like you've been through a barbed wire fence? + hipster ! kenma dislikes coffee, because not only is it so acidic on the PH scale, the entire culture surrounding the popular brew (–and yes, he really did call coffee, “the popular brew” when explaining this to you) is so aggressive in prevalent society, as it seemingly promotes an inherent overly capitalist mindset that is so patriarchal. instead, he opts for ~matcha with lion’s mane extract~ for better concentration and whenever he needs a pick-me-up. besides, he prefers things being more chill and calm anyway, and coffee makes him feel too jittery and whacked out + hipster ! kenma doesn’t actually have the best grasp on crypto or stock trading, but from believing and claiming he did, got yaku involved in also investing in that one reddit gamestop stock with him. unfortunately, due to a bad call of not pulling the shares out in time, they lost a considerable amount of money. L. but as short-tempered as yaku used to be, he’s mellowed-out in his older years and only blames himself in the end for even listening to hipster kenma in the first place. anyway it’s cool–when yaku came to visit town from russia, he got taken out by hipster kenma for an evening of partying, all drinks and party drugs on him, as a sort of apology for the risky financial loss—the night ended with the both of them on the floor crying together from reminiscing about past memories and ‘the good ole days’, sheesh + hipster ! kenma who sometimes seems like he hates you, but gets a bit of a kick out of you bringing it up, because whenever you do, he gets to playfully remind you he’s just in resting mode or deep in thought by making the same joke every time, “that’s just my cunty cat face” + hipster ! kenma who is prone to getting some pretty gnarly anxiety at times, so he takes these 15mg edible marijuana gummies to chill himself out. his favorite flavor of THC gummy bear from the packet you gifted him, and which he now regularly takes, is salted caramel and dark chocolate + hipster ! kenma will drag you to see an arthouse docufilm about the music history of video games with modular synthesizers, etc. at this little blackbox theater, complaining that those big blockbuster movie chains are ripping you off by charging way too much for mainstream crap, but then he proceeds to overpay for an overpriced, organic, effervescent, raw kombucha drink once you arrive at the little indie theater (he definitely thinks buying soda at the movie theater is beneath him, “the way i see it, if you want a soda at least make it, like, an actual appropriate setting, go to a carnival and have it with a corn dog.”)

+ hipster ! kenma loves street food. will take you to the local art walk/night market festivals once a month, fascinated by tasting all the different street food vendors and scoping out the community art scene, he’ll even end up treating you with a tasty treat every time from one of the booths. although he doesn’t particularly love overly sweet things, he will especially eat any sweetly-glazed savory snack that comes on a stick. one thing about him that you’ve come to appreciate though is that he doesn’t just gobble down his food, no, hipster kenma actually enjoys taking the time to savor what he consumes while giving insightful commentary on the food’s flavoring, etc. + hipster ! kenma who DIYs…many things, because he figures, let’s be honest, other people can’t be relied upon to make things correctly, not by his standards. especially when it comes to his computer, which of course he built himself: it has a fully transparent case so you can see right through to the whole display of all dazzling gear and deco inside of it, and in his words it had to be, “a state of the art custom loop with full liquid cooling”. you admit the inner flashing lights are pretty and the computer is definitely so decked out, that it's for sure one of the coolest things you’ve ever seen.

+ hipster ! kenma kinda has this weird thing that if he didn’t think of a cool idea for his twitch stream first after seeing it from another popular streamer, then he acts like it’s kinda inherently stupid, mentions how blasé it is to you and his friends, even if deep down he does find the idea interesting or appealing and probably, most definitely, would’ve adopted it himself 

+ hipster ! kenma who can oftentimes hold the belief that adopting a cynical and pessimistic outlook on life makes one more intelligent and analytical, even more sophisticated or enhances his overall cleverness of mind, sad + hipster ! kenma is hot. okay. in such an understated way, which all the more makes him hotter, though he’s not fully aware of his own appeal, or perhaps only mildly—actually attracts a fair amount of bitches when he goes out to the dive bars or local music shows, ones who aren’t intimidated by his sort of mysterious appearance or superior demeanor which is bound to come off a little pretentious, but in truth, he’s actually a bit insecure and shy about being approached so often and therefore tends to stay pretty silent when that happens, unsure of how to fully deal/cope with someone who is being so direct about their interest in him. ultimately prefers the slow get-to-know-you burn when it comes to any romance: a friends first, lovers later kind of thing + hipster ! kenma is incredibly observant, especially in social situations and mostly prefers to just take everything in, only speaking when he has something truly poignant to say … or when an opportunity strikes to completely, calmly, eviscerate someone’s inane or ignorant opinion, delivering a point so smooth, he’ll crush their shitty take all in a such a demure, cool, collected and resolute manner to the point where the dumbass person in question doesn’t even know they’ve been schooled and insulted by him until the roar of jeers and laughter from the surrounding crowd are heckling the unbeknownst fool, sick burn hipster kenma + hipster ! kenma only dares to wear brighter colors when at the beach and the item of clothing is a hoodie (proclaims it’s a light and breathable one though sooo he’s not sure what everyone is making such a fuss over when you, hinata, kuroo and the rest of your beach crew kick up some sand towards him while chiming in unison to urge him to, “take it off! we’re by the ocean, bruh!”) – the brightest colors of those hoodies ever worn at the beach are either a pale mustard, burnt amber, or white with possible cool textile designs. not only that, but he’ll stick to the shade beneath the large beach parasol playing on his nintendo switch, because listen, he isn’t about to get skin cancer on account of the toxic chemicals they put in sunscreen these days just so he can catch some rays (which of course, the sun could also give one cancer) + hipster ! kenma has these annoyingly long pretty dark lashes which are framed so nicely by his non-prescription clear frame glasses, and every so often you will playfully grumble to him about how unfair that is, since he’s a boy and doesn’t even care that he’s got them, then proceed to joke by asking him to give you some of those lashes since he doesn’t in fact need all of them for looks. he’ll respond by lightly chuckling and referencing that one Clockwork Orange film scene where the main character’s eyes are forced to remain horrifically clamped open, slyly suggesting, “if you can manage to get me in a position like that, then and only then, can you have them” but don’t bother, he continues, because you’ll never get past him~~ + hipster ! kenma who, no matter what he seems like on the surface, you know in the end that he’s undeniably ride or die for his friends, 10/10 will always always have their back, willingly giving them a hand without making a big deal of it + hipster ! kenma shelled out quite a hefty price on his ‘Beats by Dre’ headphones, even though as a self-proclaimed audiophile he knows they’re nowhere near being the best on the market, only bought them for the clout, and walks around town wearing them or for his twitch streams + hipster ! kenma secretly cries to bon iver, sufjan stevens, james blake, ryuichi sakamoto, erykah badu, nick cave and portishead when he’s alone + hipster ! kenma watches a looot of documentaries 

+ hipster ! kenma owns this cat shirt ↴ doesn’t wear it out in public though, only to bed, and has had it so long it’s already starting to fray at the sleeves and shoulder's seams:

+link2masterlist.

[booleanean]

Day 12 - Hyperanatomy - Parasites - Farm Hand

"Motherfucker!"

Frederik stared down the front of his underpants, held away from his body with a thumb, at the tick that had bitten him not even an inch above the base of his penis. Ticks were a common enough occurrence on the farm, but this was ridiculous.

He leaned back against the tree he was using for shade for his afternoon break, and pushed his pants down far enough to expose the first inch or so of his shaft. He was glad he kept his pubic hair shaved, otherwise he might not have spotted it so quickly.

Extracting it with the tick removal tool he used on the dogs, then putting a splash of moonshine on it from his flask, he squished the little shit between his two thumbnails. The rapidly evaporating alcohol felt cold on his balls. It smelled earthy and vaguely like the corn he used to brew it.

The bite throbbed a little. They usually didn't. Frederik took a swig of the moonshine, enjoying the heat as it spread through his stomach and the familiar burn in his throat. Figuring he'd earned a break for that very unfortunate placement, so he tipped his straw hat forward, made a half-assed effort to pull up his pants, and settled in for a nap.

Before he could really drift off to sleep, his cock started to hurt. Yanking his pants down, he watched in horror as his penis and balls visibly swelled in size. The sight paralyzed him, freezing him in place. His mind raced. He'd heard of tick bites causing erections that lasted for days until finally your dick fell off or something, but had always dismissed that as something that happened to people far away. Here on the ranch, the worst that ever happened from a tick bite was a mild infection, not really that much worse than a mosquito bite.

Besides, all the stories he'd heard were of normal erections. His cock wasn't hard, he was too panicked for that, but it was already twice the size of his normal erection. It lay heavy against his thigh. His balls, also easily twice their original size, sagged until they rested on the ground. At the same time, the skin on his cock was changing, darkening in patches, turning bright pink in others. He watched in horror as the head of his cock seemed to grow flush with the shaft. His circumcision scar receded up the shaft, then faded and rippled. The head was flattening too, changing shape. A ring of skin formed around the base, hairless, thick and leathery.

A sense of dread enveloped him as he recognized what his cock was turning into. He'd been around enough horses to recognize the medial ring forming, see how the sheath was bunching up, and recognize the shape of the head even flaccid. It hurt like a motherfucker still, but he couldn't pull his eyes away, let alone move. Part of him was desperately praying to any god he could even remotely believe in that he wasn't turning into a horse entirely, or even that this was just a weird nightmare. Maybe someone spiked his moonshine with something hallucinogenic?

When the pain spread to his lower abdomen and anus, he really started to panic. He scrabbled to expose more of his skin, felt around his tailbone to see if he was sprouting something there, but everything remained smooth and human. The changing skin had marched up into where his pubic hair would grow, but had halted at the top of his pelvis a while ago, blending smoothly back into his own human skin.

The pain started to subside a little when his cock reached his knee. It lay in the grass between his legs, soft and wrinkly, about as extended as a horse's would be when pissing. The sight was surreal and horrifying, but with the pain now gone his panic started to subside. Looking at his watch, the entire ordeal from bite to now had taken about twenty minutes, the last ten of which had been agony. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow, and gingerly touched his cock.

He could still feel the touch just as well as he had on his own cock. Or his previous cock? The human version of his cock? That was a relief at least, he'd been worried he wouldn't be able to feel anything. The situation should be freaking him out way more than it was, but the big swig of moonshine he'd had just before this all happened was starting to buzz pleasantly around his mind.

Frederik watched in astonishment as his cock retracted into the sheath. Where the heck was it all going? Maybe that had been the pain in his abdomen, his internals shifting about to accommodate… At least with it retracted, he might have a chance to pull his pants back on.

Fitting his balls, almost the size of coconuts now, back into his jeans was a struggle. At least they were proper loose fitting ones, skinny jeans had no place on a working farm. He texted his boss that he had to go home early for personal reasons, receiving just a thumbs-up emoji. Jack didn't give a shit most of the time, luckily. He knew the work would get done. Good boss.

"You're home early, everything okay?" His wife Loretta was putting her breakfast plate in the dishwasher as he walked into the kitchen. She was wearing a robe and her hair was still damp from her shower. She worked as a nurse and was on a night shift rotation right now.

Seeing her formed a lump in his throat and a knot in his stomach.

"I uh… Can we talk?"

"Did you get fired?"

He shook his head. "I got bit by a tick and something happened."

"Do we need to go to the ER?"

"Just listen for a sec, okay?"

Loretta pulled out her chair and sat opposite Fred, her hands folded in front of her.

"So this tick, right? It bit me right above the cock."

Loretta's suppressed smirk hurt a little, but then most male genital distress made her laugh out loud. She'd almost pissed herself laughing when he caught a football to the nuts last year.

"I took it out, but like… I got this intense pain in my cock and balls and — this is going to sound fake, but I swear to god it's real — they started changing."

"Your balls started changing, and you're not in the ER."

"I was freaking the fuck out but I couldn't move… and then well—"

Loretta got up and walked around the table, hauling him to his feet. Her robe hung open a little, giving him an enticing flash of her breasts and shock of dark pubic hair. She roughly undid his belt, button, and zipper, and yanked his pants down around his ankles.

"Hey!"

Loretta ignored his protests, and pulled his boxers down as well, then burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, you ass, you actually had me worried! Did Jack put you up to this? Where'd you get a horse sheath prosthetic?! How much did this thing cost!" She poked at it with a fingernail. "Feels pretty lifelike."

"Hey, that hurts!"

"Stop joking around, Freddy. You got me good, now take it off."

"It's not a prosthetic! I told you, the tick—"

Loretta started pulling at the skin of his sheath, trying to pull it off. It hurt, but at the same time the sight of his wife messing with his cock was doing things to him as well. He felt a stirring inside of him, and slowly his cock began to swell.

"Holy shit, this is impressive work." Loretta knelt down properly instead of just crouching, examining it closer.

She examined the edge smooth blending of the different skin where his horse cock merged with his human stomach, trying to smudge makeup with a saliva-wetted thumb, or find where the prosthetic was glued on. She hefted one of his balls, and dropped it again when the skin retracted in response to the touch.

"Wait, you're not joking? Jesus Christ, Fred." Loretta never took the Lord's name in vain. "What the fuck."

She took his slowly swelling cock in one hand, hefting its already formidable weight. Her hand on his still mostly flaccid member felt good, better than it had on his own cock. Despite his heart and body not being designed to handle a tool of this absolute heft, it grew in strong spurts. Before long, it was too big for Loretta to fit in one hand, so she wrapped a second hand around it. It was already bigger than at the farm, not really grown since then, just more erect.

"Does it— does it hurt?"

Fred shook his head. "It hurt like a bitch when it was changing, but now it just feels like a part of me." He explained what happened in more detail, and how it had felt.

She stroked it a little more firmly as he spoke.

"Mmm, that feels good actually."

Despite it being his own flesh, there was something incredibly lewd and taboo about seeing his wife of fifteen years stroking what looked exactly like a horse's cock. It was fully erect now, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

Loretta was transfixed by his transformed member. Her look of wonder went a long way to making him feel less like a freak show. She tentatively licked the very tip, the touch sending a shock of pleasure up the long shaft. Loretta was totally absorbed in his cock, stroking the entire length with both hands as her tongue played around the extra sensitive head. The impossibility of it fitting in her mouth was oddly enticing. He loved blowjobs, but the sight of massive cock covering Loretta's entire face made up for the lack.

"Bedroom?" he asked tentatively.

Loretta got up, holding on to his cock with one hand and pulled him to the other room, using it as a leash. In the bedroom, she let her robe drop and let herself fall backwards onto the mattress. He climbed up, straddling her with his balls resting on her lower abdomen. His cock extended before him, between her breasts and all the way to her chin.

"Oh god, it's so big." Loretta's voice was filled with a combination of lust and dread.

She stroked the length again, then squeezed it between her breasts. They were large enough to cover the shaft easily.

"Oh god, Loretta, that feels so fucking good."

She craned her neck, licking the tip. Fred closed his eyes and moaned. This felt like absolute heaven. He loved fucking her tits, and this just let him feel more of them wrapped around him. The added blowjob, or as near as was possible with his cock gigantic as it was, was driving him closer and closer to orgasm.

"God, I wish I could take all of it in my cunt. You think that tick would transform me too? God damn, I love how big it is. Maybe if we get some toys, I can work my way up… I've seen some videos. Would you like that? Helping me stretch my cunt so you can fit inside me? I've always wondered what horse cock would feel like, and now— I want you so badly, Freddy. Those balls must contain a gallon of cum, I need it so badly."

"Oh fuck," Fred moaned. Loretta's dirty talk always got him going, but now… She wanted to take all of him, every inch, every foot. He felt his orgasm approach, felt it would be a big one. The head of his cock flared wide, easily twice as wide as the rest of the shaft. "Get ready."

"Oh yes, cum for me Freddy, cover me. I want it on my face, on my tits. Hose me down with that monster."

"FUUUUUCK!" Fred bellowed.

The first shot hit Loretta straight in the face. It was so voluminous that it splattered all over, covering the pillows, bed sheet, and her tits. Fred could feel the second shot build and pulled back as fast as he could, the feeling of his cock sliding between her cum slick tits overwhelmingly good. The second shot was just as violent, splashing out from between her breasts and onto her neck.

Loretta spluttered and moaned through it, arching her back, which pressed her stomach against his twitching balls. The next few shots weren't quite as violent, but the volume was overwhelming still. It got everywhere. Loretta was soaked from sternum up, and it was soaking into the sheets.

Fred felt light headed, and felt a powerful thirst building. Loretta was running her hands up and down her body, gathering up his massive load of cum and spreading it even further. Her hips were writhing.

"Oh god, there's so much, fuck yes." He could hear how turned on she was, her voice thick with it.

He sat back, catching his breath. He burned to go get something to drink, felt faint, but instead he watched as his wife took his cum and tasted it. His cock deflated, retracting quickly, his body unable to spare the fluid to keep it erect right now.

"Oh fuck, it tastes so good. Different than before."

Her cum slick fingers slid down and into herself, then circled her clit. She loved to play with his cum, usually getting herself off rubbing her clit and using it as lube, but there was an animalistic passion about her now that was a huge turn-on.

"Sorry love, I'm so thirsty. I need water."

"Yes, hydrate, I'll be fine. Oh fuck it feels so good." Loretta was rubbing herself faster and faster as Fred stumbled into the bathroom. He drank straight from the tap, gulping down in minutes more than he'd ever drank in a day. He felt himself stabilize almost immediately, his balance returning. Loretta cried out in the next room as she came. He drank another half dozen huge mouthfuls and went back to the bedroom.

His wife lay panting on soaked sheets. He was glad they had a cover on the mattress, he could see his cum pooling around her. Loretta squirted occasionally, so they just kept a water proof liner on all the time. He grabbed a couple of towels from the back of the bathroom door and helped her soak some of the cum up, then laid down next to her. They both desperately needed a shower.

"Holy crap, Freddy."

"Right?"

"I can't wait to take you inside." She hummed contentedly and rubbed herself idly.

"So you're not upset?"

"No, no, I love it." Her free hand rested on his thigh.

"Are you satisfied for now, or would you like me to go down on you?"

"Fingers first."

Frederik gathered himself, shifting his weight. He kissed her, tasting an unfamiliar but not bad taste on her lips. Was this what horse cum tasted like?

"Oh, that's beginning to sting a little." Loretta said.

Fred moved, sitting between her legs. Her pubic hair blocked some of the view, but it was thin enough on her labia that he could see the color of the skin shift as it had with him.

"Uh, honey… I think this might be contagious."

Her labia were swelling visibly, lengthening and getting wrinkly.

"Oh, that's a bad cramp." Loretta winced and held a hand on her abdomen.

"We should go to the hospital."

"And show everyone I work with my new horse cunt? No way, buster. You were fine, I'll be fine too. Besides, I meant it when I wanted that thing inside of me, maybe now— This really smarts, huh?"

"Are you sure? Maybe doctor Hillard—"

"Scott is a quack, I wouldn't trust him to prescribe aspirin. Besides, you said this took twenty minutes, it'll be done by the time we get halfway there."

"Do you need a Tylenol or something?"

Loretta shook her head. "Just be here with me, it's no worse than a bad period."

"Hot water bottle then?"

"Just shut up and cuddle."

They lay together as Loretta calmly described what she was feeling. Her pain crawled up her abdomen and stomach, organs shifting and lengthening. They used her phone's selfie camera to watch what was happening. Her labia grew leathery and smooth, the sparse hair falling out. The skin darkened and her clit grew to the size of the head of his former penis even as it drew deeper inside, more protected. Her anus changed too, the ring growing more defined and larger, pushing her cheeks apart a little.

Curious, they looked at Fred's anus, which had changed too. He hadn't even thought to look. Loretta teased him that maybe this wasn't a horse cock but a donkey's, which would make him a real ass just as she always thought.

The line where her darkened and changed skin ended was lower on her, down well below her waist and just barely above the start of her new labia, slightly higher up her abdomen than the original had been.

"The pain is fading," Loretta said about half an hour later.

"This really doesn't bother you, huh?"

Loretta shook her head. "I've fantasized about horse cock before. One of those impossible, unobtainable fantasies, but still one of my favorites. I'd never with a real horse of course, it's immoral not to mention incredibly dangerous. But if you've got one—" She squeezed his hand. "It's not like I'm sleeping with anyone else, right?"

Fred felt touched, despite the incredible weirdness of the moment. This entire day had been bizarre beyond words, but at least now it was weird with his favorite person. Her calm acceptance of all of this made him feel much more okay as well, letting go of an anxiety and weird shame he hadn't realized he was holding on to.

"I love you," Fred said.

"I love you too." Loretta's tone was flat, a simple statement of bone-deep fact that no impassioned declaration could match for intensity.

"So that's about as bad as period pains are? And then for days instead of just half an hour?"

"Mm-hmm. Usually a little less bad, but I've had worse too."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"Eh, I'm used to it."

He kissed the top of her head as she laid curled up against him.

"You mentioned something about fingers earlier?" She used the whispering tone reserved for the bedroom. "I'm eager to take this new set of kit for a spin."

"I should wash my hands, I just got back from the farm."

He got up, stripped off the last of his clothes, washed his hands, then on a silly whim washed his arm up past the elbow. Back in the bedroom, Loretta had spread some towels for them to lay on.

Watching her walk around, there wasn't really anything different about her. Shadow and pubic chair hid the changes to her anatomy well, where he might have to start wearing baggier pants. What was he going to tell work tomorrow?

The thought fled his mind as Loretta lay back on the bed and spread her legs wide. His eyes locked on her cunt, he walked forward like a man possessed, crawling between her legs. He buried his face between her legs, his tongue parting her new, firmer lips. She tasted amazing, the same but different, stronger. Pushing his tongue deeper, he licked bottom to top, finishing at her clit. He circled the much bigger bundle of nerve endings, and she moaned in response.

"Ho shit, that's intense!"

Fred could just hum in response, licking and sucking to his heart's content.

"Fingers, please—"

He slid two fingers inside, then at her urging three, then his entire hand. Loretta was soaking wet, and easily accommodated his hand.

"Deeper, yes. Just keep going."

Fred felt his cock stir at the sight of his hand entirely inside his wife. He pushed a little deeper, not wanting to hurt her, then pulled back slowly. She had other ideas though, and grabbed his arm as close to the elbow as she could reach and pulled it all the way inside.

"Keep going deeper, yes, fuck, oh god."

Half his lower arm was inside of her now, and he just kept sliding deeper. He almost got to his elbow when he bottomed out.

At her direction, Fred started to move back and forth, faster and faster. Her reaction was intense. Loretta grunted and groaned, urged him on as he fisted her deeper than any unmodified human could ever hope to achieve. Feeling her muscles contract around his entire arm was wild, the heat of her body intense.

"Oh god, I'm going to— yes, yes, yes, YES, FREDDY YES DON'T STOP!"

Her scream of ecstasy was ear splitting in their small bedroom. He kept moving his arm, punching into her deep then pulling almost all the way back. She shuddered through a second, smaller orgasm before she pushed his hand back and out of her, then pulled him up.

He was fully erect again, twitching in the air. She guided him in. The sensation of being enveloped went on and on as he sank into her, inch after inch, foot after foot. His cock reached up past his own sternum, surely it much reach as far inside of Loretta as well? To his great astonishment, he managed to fit every single inch of him inside of his wife, his pelvis pressed against her as she wrapped her legs around him.

"Fuck me, baby."

He started with short strokes, but soon went faster, deeper, longer. He pushed up on his hands and knees to get a better angle, Loretta letting her legs fall to her side again. Then he pushed up on his toes and moved his entire body. The motion must look comical, and he was suddenly glad they didn't have any mirrors in the bedroom, but finally he managed a full stroke. The sensation was amazing, pulling back with wanton abandon then slamming back inside until his balls slammed against her ass and the bed.

Loretta grabbed at his arms, lost in the raw power of the sensations she must be experiencing. Fred's grasp on sanity was flimsy at best, only the instinctual necessity to keep moving keeping him present. His wife's cries of pleasure urged him on, faster, harder. Thought fled, condensing the world down to the simple necessity of motion and bringing the other and the self pleasure.

With an almighty roar, Fred buried himself as deep as he would go, slamming into Loretta. The force of his orgasm, uncharacteristically close to his last, overwhelmed him and he collapsed on top of her as his cock twitched, leaving another massive load inside of his love.

"Yes, inside, inside, all of it inside," Loretta whispered as she clung to him, holding him tight to her again with her legs.

He kissed her through the last shuddering breaths of orgasm, feeling her shiver each time he twitched inside of her. They lay together long after, his cock staying hard enough to stay inside for a long time. At least his stamina wasn't horse-like, they were usually done after three thrusts and back to eating grass before their semen was done leaking out of their partner.

When it was finally time to pull out, the normal cum towel they kept by the bed wasn't even remotely enough. It rushed out of Loretta overwhelming the towel and flowing around onto the extra towels on the bed.

"Holy moly Fred, we're going to have to start having sex over the toilet at this rate. Or install a drain on the bed."

Fred grinned. "Shower sex could be nice. Or just outside in the barn."

Loretta mimed throwing something at him, but had a massive grin on her face.

"Come on, you ass, get in the shower. I'll join you as soon as I throw this mess in the washer."

[strikeoutbeerpodcast]

Got to knock back a sixer of Hairless Dog Brewing Citra Lager NA live on the show last night. It was definitely a tasty non-alcoholic option if you are participating in Dry January.

From their website:

“A lager with IPA in its soul, our Citra Lager bends traditions as a lighter brew with plenty of crisp flavor. Upfront citrus peel, caramel malt, and bright, balanced hops make this a great match for food, friends, and other f-word occasions. Festivals, for instance.

JUICY • CRISP • REFRESHING

Note: Some of our brew styles are not filtered. In these instances, some sediment is normal.”

Cheers!

[goodspiritsnewsat]

GSN Brews News: January 4th 2022 Edition

GSN Brews News: January 4th 2022 Edition

Baltimore, Maryland’s DuClaw Brewing Company has launched three new seasonal beers. First up is Spruce Willis, an 8.2% abv double IPA named for the famed actor from the Die Hard series of action movies. Next up is the PastryArchy Macchiato Milk Stout, a 6.5% abv beer brewed with vanilla beans and DuClaw’s own coffee blend. Finally, DuClaw has released Sour Me Pomegranate, Passion Fruit, & Plum, a…

[welcometoels]

Session Seventeen - RupeMaster

Time to hit the road again.

The party travels north for a couple of days, to meet with Ebeneezer’s contact and complete the handover of the Thornhelm.

Harry - Ebeneezer’s lushly bewhiskered right hand man - has the artefact safely at his side in a special bag, and members of the bandit crew flit between the trees, on watch for creatures and other, more dangerous bandits.

The journey is quite peaceful, though, and Harry encourages the group to tell tales of their adventures thus far.  They fill him in on all the details, from their sudden arrival in Dogwood, to the clash with Slathiel, and on to their experiences in Monthend.

After a day of travelling and telling tales, the group beds down.  As they dream, they all hear a voice - the same voice they heard after the gems and lanterns they collected turned into the trinkets they now wear.  It reminds them of its presence, and that it is still watching, waiting for the time that they meet again.

Back on the road, after a breakfast of bacon-flavoured rabbit and fish-flavoured fish, some of the party expand on their background.  Cailynn in particular tells the group about the circumstances of her family’s death and how she survived since: The blackmail and the murder, her apprenticeship to renowned artificer Banto, and what followed.

She was naturally somewhat adrift since losing her family to a mysterious and shady organisation, and fell into petty crime and thievery.  Her magical ability, though, caught the eye of Banto, and he took her in as an assistant.  It was there that she learned the basics of the artificer’s craft - and more besides.

It transpired that her magic was not all that Banto wanted her for - he also had an eye of her light-fingered thieving skills.  He’d become aware of a set of blueprints that were being brought over by the Dwarves to help foster peace and trade with the Elven nation: Blueprints for a series of devices known as the HelpForged.

Banto sent his young apprentice to steal the blueprints.  This turned out to be an easier task than she’d expected, since the Dwarven envoys had entered into a spirited drinking contest with some local Elves, and the documents had been left unattended in their lodgings.  After picking the lock, she left the premises with her quarry.

A short while afterward, she was visited by Felix - a representative of a major Tabaxi crime syndicate known as The Mau.  Felix - a Sphinx cat who was clearly as dangerous as he was hairless - had come to discuss the theft with Cailynn, since his organisation had set up the drinking contest in order to steal the blueprints themselves.  However, due to a lack of expertise in the field, the thief they sent took the wrong documents.

Felix made Cailynn an offer - join The Mau.  A clear threat lingered unspoken - this was not an offer that should be refused lightly.  Cailynn accepted - thereby narrowly avoiding the raid on Banto’s workshop, which the HelpForged 38/12 told the team about a couple of weeks ago - and has been working for The Mau ever since.

While in the spirit of sharing, Oddsock also talked about his home in Chew, where hops grow freely, beer aplenty is brewed, and the owlbears are soft and cuddly.  He has no idea how to get back, and he misses it dearly.

Julius too is in a sharing mood, and talks about his old Pa and the cottage they used to share before he went away.  He too misses his home, but has been learning a lot while out on the road.

Talion chooses this moment to talk about Julius’ grasp of Dwarvish, and the Otter is alarmed to learn that all of the friendly greetings he thought he knew are actually swear words.  Sensing that he has upset Julius, Talion offers to help tutor him in a few Dwarvish phrases, with the help of his Tongues spell.

Dodging the matter for the moment, Julius asks Harry who the contact for the handover might be. Harry is unwilling to give out any details, but after getting lost in Oddsock’s big brown eyes, he does reveal that it’s just one person, and they will be meeting at the Burning Man Inn.

Oddsock celebrates this success by letting the fiery sparks crackle through his magically charged fur.  Harry is impressed, so Oddsock follows this up by Prestidogitating a flurry of fireworks in every colour he knows.  These are mostly grey, but very pretty regardless.

Also in grey is the small town emerging through the trees ahead.  Greysnipe - for that is what it is called - is little more than a church, a couple of inns and some simple shops, serving the farms that make up most of its land.  One of the inns is the Burning Man, and it is towards this that the party ventures.

As they tie their horses to the rail outside - Talion taking care of Oddsock’s, and earning a Mage Hand pat on the back for doing so - Harry swaggers in.  He invites the others to follow, but advises them to sit well away from him, as the contact is only expecting one person for the hand-off.  Oddsock tries to follow, but for once his persuasive arts fall short, and he joins the rest of the party at a corner table.

From here, they plan.  Sticking to the idea of stealing back the helm after it is paid for, so they can return it to the Gnomes, they cook up a few ideas for how put this into action.

Firstly, Julius sends his fey weasel companion Rupert over to Harry’s table.  Being small, Rupert very effectively stays out of sight, curled up under a chair.  Once he is in position, Julius transfers his senses to the weasel, so he can hear all the conversations as they happen.

[DM’s note: This is what Edward (Talion) referred to as “Riding the RupeMaster”, in case you wanted to know who to blame for the session title]

While Julius listens to Harry giving his drink order to the friendly Half-Orc waiter, Talion outlines his plan.  He wants to turn the remaining party members invisible, so that they can take up positions around the room unseen.

Mostly, the plan is well received, and a lot simpler than the last plan they made.  Only Oddsock refuses, preferring to instead float up to the rafters so he can drop down on the contact from above.  Talion, with a sigh, agrees, on the condition that Oddsock relays the plan to Julius via Message.

Communicating magically with a fey weasel who is magically linked to an Otter person turns out to be an unusual experience.  There is a touch of echo and feedback, but the message gets through.

With everyone in place, Talion leans forward to cast Invisibility.  However, the magic fizzles in his fingers, as a door at the far end of the pub opens.  Through it enters a peculiar figure: A tall, slender Human with deep brown skin, wearing a soft, powder blue robe, glasses with silvery lenses, and fluffy shoes fashioned after pink rodents.  His thick, silvery-white hair stands high upon his head, and his beard descends past his chest.

The man sits down opposite Harry, and an exchange is made.  First, the man puts a small purse upon the table, which Harry peers into.  After a quiet moment, during which Harry is clearly startled, the helm is dropped onto the table.  The man picks it up, and moves to leave.

As the man stands, Julius touches a paw to his necklace and lets his friends know, in a low whisper, that the exchange has been made.

Oddsock, high above, moves forward into dropping range.  The Human looks up at the Golden Retriever, and simply says “No.”  A magical compulsion is woven into this word, but Oddsock brushes it off.  He readies himself, leaps forth, and snags his collar on a chandelier.

While the waiter moves to unstick the hound using a broom, the mystery man leaves through the door through which he entered.  As he does, Talion tries casting Invisibility again, this time with immediate success.  He moves out of the pub’s front door, with Kadis and Cailynn, intending to catch the Human at the side as he leaves.

Instead, they find a plain side wall with no door.  Cailynn sends Moo the clockwork wyvern into the air to investigate, but beside an old well, a couple of rickety outhouses and a rear door, there is nothing.

Julius, regaining his senses, takes a more direct approach.  He opens the side door inside the inn, and narrowly avoids being struck by a loose broomhandle.  Beside a few cleaning supplies, he finds a small rectangle of card.  Upon the card is written:

Not yet - JD

Other than the peculiarly uniform handwriting, there is nothing unusual about the note.  There is also no sign of the strangely clad Human who presumably left it.

The three invisibles return to the inn, and as they do, Talion catches sight of the sign at the front again.  This time, it triggers a recent memory - of stopping for a drink, meeting a beautiful Snowy Owl Aaracokra, heading upstairs for a little leisure time... and suddenly being somewhere entirely different.

Acting upon this information, he heads upstairs with his hidden friends, and Julius and Oddsock follow, trusting the dog’s senses.  There are only three rooms, and it doesn’t take Talion long to find the right one.

Instead of knocking like a regular person might, Oddsock tries the technique that worked exactly once in the past - Acid Splash.  Sadly, possibly due to his light-fitting related embarrassment, his acid is ineffective, and the door remains closed tight.

Cailynn tries next, using her lockpick to much greater effect.  As the lock clicks open, the door swings, revealing the luxuriantly befeathered form of Bubo Scandiacus.  The Aarakocra is outraged to find a Golden Retriever and an Otter causing a ruckus outside their door, and even moreso when Talion lets his Invisibility slip.

Today, Talion discovers that being slapped by an Aarakocra is no more pleasant that being slapped by anyone else.  The slammed door in his face is also less than enjoyable.

Inside the room, Bubo turns to find Oddsock, who managed to sneak in through Talion’s legs.  He looks up at them and asks for the petting he feels he deserves.  Bubo initially resists, but after a dramatic monologue about their woes, they brush Oddsock’s fur with a soft hand.

Oddsock, satisfied, offers his Ball of Compulsive Throwing, which Bubo gamely throws down the hall for him to chase.

As this is going on, Julius fills the team in on his discoveries.  Talion has a good long think about the type of magic that must have been used and, based on what knowledge he has, thinks it must have been a Conjuration spell such as Dimension Door.

Cailynn decides to bring the power of her criminal contacts to bear on this matter.  Outside the pub, she looks for the crow that has been following her, and finds it peering down from the roof.  Writing out a quick message about finding a powerful conjuror, she adds the symbol of The Mau to the bottom right corner, and attaches the message to the crow’s leg.  With a tap of its beak against her hand, the crow takes flight, and Cailynn returns to the inn.

Outside the Burning Man, Oddsock finally catches an odour other than old cider.  It is a very familiar smell, which he eventually recognises as his own urine.  Following the trail, he finds a very familiar looking church next to an equally familiar tavern called The Hanging Lock.

From around the corner of the tavern appears another familiar sight - a cheerful Jack Russel, who greets Oddsock in the manner of all canines.  Once the sniffing is complete, the Jack Russel leads Oddsock into the pub via a dog door.  This time, Oddsock finds himself where he expects to be - another inn, furnished in a very similar fashion to the Burning Man.

Jumping up onto a stool, Oddsock drops his metal dog bowl on the bar and asks for an ale.  The barman panics at being spoken to by a dog, and Oddsock sighs.  This is getting tiresome...

Julius also spends some time outside the Burning Man, and sees Oddsock’s trip to the other end of town.  Letting his eyes drift along, he sees a couple more buildings, and with a start he realises that he knows them.

Though he has never been into Greysnipe proper, he has been to its outskirts on many occasions, to trade his books and pebbles for supplies.  It is exactly this Dwarven-run supply shop that he sees now, and inside it, the Dwarf who taught Julius so many profanities in the guise of pleasant greetings.

Julius goes to berate the Dwarf for being so cruel, but the storekeep just finds it funny.  After a few withering words about dull books about weeds, he sends Julius on his way.

Happily, there is a much warmer greeting to be had across the road.  The Halfling woman who owns the greengrocer welcomes Julius back, though she is confused as to how he managed to disappear last time.

The two spend a few pleasant minutes chatting.  Though she doesn’t know anything about Conjuration magic, she does know plenty about herbs, and gives Julius a little bundle to be used in a fish stew.

Back in the Burning Man, Kadis sits alone, thinking.  Obviously, nothing here is familiar to his eyes, but from the back of the room comes a familiar voice.  Its oily, obsequious aspect matches perfectly with that of the man who tried to lead him into a pub for drinks while he was still an aimless wanderer.

Kadis greets the man, and takes up the offer of a fresh ale, now that he has finally seen the inside of the pub he failed to enter those few weeks ago.

The group has much to consider here, in the town of Greysnipe.  Now they know where they started, how will they proceed?

[stuffaboutminneapolis]

Citra Lager by Hairless Dog Brewing, Minneapolis

[phae]

Week 474

It's extra appealing right now to want to log anything when it feels like I'm doing absoluely nothing.

Once upon a time, I used to log movie reviews on Mike Stenhouse's oo5, but once he retired that I never replaced it with anything, but I've found that letterboxd is scratching that itch nicely. I miss going to Alamo Drafthouse (very strict no-talking, no-phone rules, table service snacks, no ads) in the middle of the day.

I've had a Goodreads account for a long time, but my kindle reading has gone up significantly since I got the library card. Also, I discovered the goodreads native app has a book scanner, so I went to town in a fit of boredom with the bookshelves here and discovered a few paperbacks I haven't actually read yet languishing under a layer of dust.

I've on and off complained about not being able to find a todo list that works with my brain, but Todoist seems to be the first one that's finally stuck. I've been filling it with really mundane things like "water the garden" or "launder the bedsheets", but it's been useful for feeling useful. I sync it up with my calendar to make my days look a bit less empty.

I think that's all the new logging I'm doing. I made two swarm checkins this month! A real busy one. What a whirlwind.

We've been very cautiously trying some socialising with Matt and Dana, who we consider our "bubble family" since we we've sort of been in each others' space since the pandemic started (literally since the shared airbnb in Kyoto in February) and we had them over for backyard lunch a couple weekends ago. I think they're the first people to be in the house since Jake stayed in January, well before lockdown.

I stopped drinking at the start of lockdown and have been getting into non-alcoholic IPAs. There's a trend right now, I think partially because nerds my age have realised their bodies can't keep up with craft beers anymore, of "good" breweries making low-to-no-alcohol beers that taste interesting! I've had some from Athletic Brewing Co., Mikkeler and Hairless Dog. All good fun.

Progress updates on end-of-the-world hobbies:

I'm a week out from finishing the Udemy JLPT N5 course, then I'll be on revision until I can get the exam booked.

I can successfully pick 2 and 3 pin locks!

Read a very good guide on the HAM Technician license and am doing the hamstudy.org flashcards until I hit proficiency and then I should be good to take the exam.

I've also started oil painting again!

Just a close-up of a work-in-progress

from fberriman.com https://ift.tt/2Df1ELS

via IFTTT

[writeanapocalae]

Happy STS! ❤️ What is something that makes your ocs happy? (Because they're all wonderful and deserve it lots >:D) -chauceryfairytales

Thank you for the ask @chauceryfairytales! I haven’t written anything happy for these guys in a while so this might be nice for them for a change. 

Cradle - dark stones heated by the sun, fog in crystals, Timely, the sun through clouds, freckles that are raised and textured, golden hair, women who can pick her up, Basalt (the dog), holding hands

Illidan  - romance novels, cheap theatre popcorn, making people blush, when she understands pop culture references, vines, suits, when people listen to her, stretching her arms and feeling things pop, sun rays through windows

Maxia - the smell of coffee brewing, the itch of fresh tattoos, black ink running smoothly, cuddles, long haired and hairless cats, easy conversation, journals with heavy paper, watching people doodle, kissing people

Ralucad - sunset, the smell of herbs, happy families, the process of brewing beer, entertaining guests, listening to hyperfixations, exciting people with his wares or knowledge, long walks, light through leaves, trust

Timely - Basalt (the dog), dreamless nights, differing textures, compliments, being held, kisses, Cradle, black and white movies, snow, the chatter of cafes, elevator music, rain on the window, people humming or singing to themselves

[zedecksiew]

People of Andjang

In a valley like the fold between rolls of a plump belly.

Folk bend in flooded terraces, full of beet-red water. “It’s the soil,” they tell you. Rice seedlings grow lurid green.

No chickens or pets. No animal sounds, besides insects. There are cowsheds -- but unless a trader has been by, these are empty. Ploughs are hand ploughs, pushed by people-shaped rattan puppets.

+++

PEOPLE OF ANDJANG

They live in raised houses. The space underneath is storage: sieves and threshing screens; palm-leaf mats and cooking pits.

Also:

1: Bolts of cotton and fine silk. A person-sized calabash mounted on a post, wearing a half- finished vest. He is a seamster. 2: Sickles leaning against a thatched workshop. The forge fire burns low. Only women are allowed in. She is a blacksmith. 3: A balance scale, big as a loading crane. Per-day rooms for visiting traders; porridge meals provided. They are a rice-seller. 4: He rehearses. Before you see him you hear him: feet stamp-stamp-stamping, the Mountain’s heart, beating. He is a dancer. 5: Unguents for newborn babes; a meteoric-iron mallet to smash undead spirits. Midwives watch the boundary. She is a midwife. 6: Sealed earthen pots. Loud talk offends the wine spirits snoozing within. “They will curse you,” she whispers. She is a vintner. 7: Wood shavings from a whittling knife. Each piece murmurs wordlessly. If burned they shriek in agony. He is a charm-carver. 8: Wildflowers rainbow the roof. Roots curtain the eaves, long and wispy. The sound of a pestle, pounding. They are a herbalist. 9: Rattan, woven into arms, two legs, a head -- a rattan puppet, in parts, still unspelled. She is a skilled disciple of the rattan art. 10: The outline of a dog, on a flag of white silk. The flag of Andjang. Jars, in a row, full of blood congealing. He is a bloodletter.

Here a pearl earring, there a gold anklet. Wealthier than you expect, for rubes. And thinner than you expect. They are all a little wan.

Look at this one:

1: Only ever stares past you. Can’t focus, or doesn’t want to. 2: Narcolepsy. Yawning mid-sentence, they keel over, asleep. 3: Tattooed scalp and eyebrows. Totally hairless, otherwise. 4: Always sweaty. To shake their hand is to hold a cold fish. 5: Always sniffling. If they stop blood leaks out their nostrils. 6: Vomit on their breath. When they leave this smell lingers. 7: Hard to understand. Their tongue looks like an ox’s heart. 8: A dwarf. Has a complex. Hears insults in anything you say. 9: Fingerless on one hand. Irregular stumps, as if bitten off. 10: Hungry. Always eating. Literally never seen not chewing.

They have puncture scars on their inner elbows or necks. Spots where the bloodletter has put his needle.

Something is up:

1: They have caught the eye of a princess. Serving her as consort would be the highest honour. Too bad consorts tend not to live out the year. 2: Their face erupts, extending a proboscis made of chitin. An assassin bug in human skin, hoping to catch one of Andjang’s royal insects. 3: In love with a neighbour. This situation is hopeless -- neighbour-boy just doesn’t swing that way. Not above using mind-control love potions. 4: They miss their dead wife. Plans to summon her spirit into a rattan puppet. Will mispronounce the ritual, and summon something else, instead. 5: Afraid of needles. They will pay you for your blood. “Don’t tell anybody,” they say. Dodging the tithe is very taboo; a breach of community trust. 6: Genial and generous when you meet them in the village. You meet them again, on the trail down the Mountain. Leading a gang of bandits. 7: Kicking their step-son. The boy is a bastard, a vagrant’s get. “Please take me with you!” he begs. To leave he needs the Queen’s consent. 8: Bleeding from multiple bites. They were attacked by a swarm of babies, in the forest. Fleeing, their daughter tripped, fell. She was left behind. 9: Their philtrum splits. Three jaws twist themselves into a trefoil arrangement. An agent of the Leech Temple. A spy, sabotaging rival parasites. 10: Their brother was killed by a prince. Now they spit whenever anybody mentions the royal family. Now they are secretly brewing firebombs.

+++

( Working on another zine for the Thousand Thousand Islands. Art and project by Mun Kao. 

Photo source: https://www.thejakartapost.com/academia/2018/12/03/farmers-want-more-than-incentives.html )

[ayellowbirds]

Dead Names Bestiary

Not all of these are guaranteed to appear! This is just setting down some possibilities. Those of y’all who know folklore might be able to guess at the regions of inspiration.

This took me about five days of writing, research, reconsideration, and renaming to put together, so it’s pretty long. Click the Read More:

Anakim: The mingling of human and giant blood by breeding or magic results in people possessing vast power in a small body—giantspawn are often on the scrawny side even compared to their human kin, save for a singular feature of their body that is grown vastly out of proportion to the whole. In spite of this, they suffer no limitations; an anak with feet as long with their arms has no difficulty walking or running, and one with a tremendously oversized head need not blame the weight for any problems of posture.

Angels: More properly known as Malakhim, these agents and messengers of the divine have existed since the world was formed, if not earlier, and have forms indicative of these primeval origins, combining features of numerous beasts both real and imagined and having multitudes of limbs, wings, eyes, or mouths amidst empyrean fire. Knowing the fearfulness of their true forms, they often appear in the world in the form of lesser beings, even living as ordinary humans until the time comes to perform their appointed tasks.

Beach Beasts: The results of Icosan teratomancers experimenting to create living weapons, beach beasts are small, densely muscle creatures blurring the lines between mammal, reptile, fish, and bird, having hairless amphibious bodies and sharp, jagged beaks. While most are magically compelled to obey commands, a rare few unfinished individuals have escaped the laboratories at Fishers Point Island and made it to the mainland.

Bigfeet: Those inhabiting the state of Dembenklion are considered to have a more feral, ferocious character, and were more traditionally known just as Wild Men. They tend to have large fangs that just out even when the jaw is set, and stand an average of two meters tall; their occasional raids on human homes have led to a few being sighted wearing clothes. They are more adept at tree-climbing than bigfeet of other regions, though they seem to possess a curiosity about open areas, including the wide roads set down by the Icosans.

Black Dogs: Said to be an omen of death, the truth is that these silent hounds are impassive observers who have a sense for the approach of both disaster and great good fortune, and seek to stand witness even where no-one else would. Although many reports exaggerate their size, they are in fact on the very small side, and easily slip across boundaries that might bar larger creatures.

Catamounts: While often assumed to be simply another name for the mountain lions of further east, and appearing quite similar to them at first glance (with the exception of a seeming frequency of black coloration), a catamount is a distinctly noble specimen with the power of vanishing from sight, disappearing into thin air by darting around corners and behind barriers that out to offer it no opportunity to hide elsewhere.

Coonigator: Whether a true hybrid of raccoon and alligator, or either a mammal with reptilian features, or hairy-bodied reptile, these beasts do most strongly resemble ordinary raccoons up to the neck, having the sharp-mouthed countenance of squat alligators. They combine the diets and habits of both species, being scavengers which are just as likely to ambush prey of sufficient size. Most worrisome are reports of groups of coonigators cooperating as a swarm to bring down larger prey.

Demons: Between mortal and malakhim in terms of both their forms and their habitation, demons dwell in the in-between spaces and intermediate world that sits on the border between the world of the living and the sphere of the divine. 

Se’irim: Described as a combination of human form and either goats, antelope, or the prong-horned goat-antelopes of the far east, se’irim are endowed with bestial heads and hairy, powerful legs that end in sharp hooves, as well as a magic of the wild and lonesome places. They possess an unmatched pride, and most compel or outright demand worship from humans they encounter, though they have a reputation for not being terribly clever.

Sheydim: Beings of smoke and shadow where humans are of clay and timber, the widely varied sheydim are unified by combining humanoid features with those of the toothier kind of birds, having dark black or gray feathers, sharp fangs and claws, and taloned, three-toed feet. They are bound on an instinctive level by oaths and laws, though strictly by the letter, and most make it a matter of personal honor to ignore the intent, while also relishing the opportunity to punish those who violate laws and break promises even by accident.

Dogs, Talking: Some dogs have got words. That’s just how it is. 

Evil Eyes: Also known as Ayanim Hora or Jettaturas, evil eyes are the physical embodiment of envy, in the form of a singular eyeball as large as a human is tall. Their origin is uncertain, with some scholars asserting that they are curses that have come to life, while others say that they are especially warped nephilim. Each seeks to collect the eyes of those who possess a particular virtue, skill, or physical quality, the jettatura adding something of this by plucking eyes out and setting them in orbit around its own body through magic.

Giants: Towering human-like figures that at once defy and embody the natural world, giants are known to be born under three different circumstances: as nephilim spawned by the union of human and angel, as the children of human couples touched by peculiar magic, or else (seemingly most often) formed out of the very land itself as wonder-children.

Giants, Lumber: Often as vastly broad as they are towering, woodland giants are not only highly skilled at felling trees, but raising up new ones; they are seen by some as akin to shepherds of the forest. Although appearing to be flesh and blood on the outside, they are made of mountain rock.

Giants, Marine: Tremendously tall, seagoing giants treat deep bays as wading beaches, and sailing ships as mere rowboats. They have innate knowledge of storms, and are highly skilled at knotwork both mundane and magical, weaving with surprising precision for their stature. Their salt-weathered features conceal a body made of dense timbers.

Giants, Road*: Also called Longstriders, road giants are a recent development that seem linked to the highway projects instituted by the Icarian Empire. Their bodies are especially suited for walking at speed for long periods of time, and they have a knack for rearing beasts of burden in a manner that brings them to a similar size and stamina. Their blood and muscle are tar and gravel.

Giants, Urban: Smaller on average than many other giants, the urban sort are noted for a love of tobacco and beer, and talents of flame-quenching and fire resistance that can be overtly miraculous. Their bones and guts are made of fine steel and pig iron.

Glawackus: Large, dark-furred animals now widely considered to be an especially bulky kind of fisher cat or long-tailed wolverine, the glawackus is mainly dreaded as a pest, its nocturnal screaming being more fearsome than any attacks thus far recorded.

Golems: Otherwise known as Dummies or Mannekins, golems are near-living beings made from forms built up out of flexible materials that take on the likeness of flesh and blood. The knowing of making them is best-kept among devout scholars of the divine, so they are often thought to be especially the province of baalei shem. They are often categorized as being among the Wrought, along with other inanimate-made-animate beings.

Mofets*: Very rarely, a golem or other wrought made with exceptional skill or very pure intent—or, it is claimed, a golem that has attained a great level of personal accomplishment—metamorphoses into something that seems more vibrantly alive than even mortal humans. A mofet resembles not a living human as most golems do, but more a flesh-and-blood version of the golem’s original form; features may appear like knees that resemble metal joints, or hair with the thick droopiness of wet clay. 

Gnomes: Mysterious little people seen on rare occasion up in the Koterstayklekh, they are noted for their old-fashioned attire, tremendous beards, and distinctly porcine eyes. Having a jovial character, they have never been sighted outside of hearty revels involving the copious consumption of a mysterious brew. This liquor has the power to temporarily transform those who consume it into gnomes themselves, though excess consumption is believed to render the effect permanent.

Goonyaks: Standing well over two meters and having claws each as long as a human’s whole hand, a goonyak is a powerful predator with a form calling to mind an especially large bigfoot. However, their most fearsome quality is their ability to warp the memory of those who saw them, even erasing their presence outright from the minds of witnesses who go too long without seeing signs of them. In spite of this, the few surviving records suggest that their name is also instantly known to all that lay eyes on one, for however long that lasts.

Grey Folk: Widely but not exclusively taking the form of small, lithe folk with large eyes and skin the color of stone, these otherworldly beings exhibit no emotions themselves, but seem to be able to command profound changes in the feelings of those who meet their gaze. They are known to steal away both livestock, pets, and their owners, returning them bewildered at beast, and monstrously altered or mutilated at worst. Their arrival seems linked to appearances by dark-clad, oddly behaving men who project an air of authority and strange menace.

Haints: The restless and incorporeal undead, haints are often divided into two principle types:

Dybbuks: Able to speak and be seen, dybbuks affect the power of touch by possession of living creatures or inanimate objects in the likeness thereof, and are also known as Specters. While a dybbuk may dismount a subject of possession, they cannot impose their will on the same being or object more than once, and so they tend to strive to hold onto a desired form for as long as possible.

Gilgulim: Also known as Presences, these haints are able to touch the world around them and make their voices heard, but cannot be seen by most. A gilgul may freely “ride” the living, and unlike a dybbuk can possess the same subject many times. However, they cannot overshadow the minds of those whom they possess, instead being limited to powerful suggestions and feelings of inspiration.

Rephaim: Able to be seen and touched as they wish, rephaim are also known as Apparitions or Shades. Unlike dybbuks and gilgulim, they cannot possess the living, but may indicate their will by writing, signing, or through the use of spirit boards; they have a particularly great ability to alter their own appearance, and may become gigantic or miniature, and create illusions of scenes long past. 

Headless: On rare occasion, those whose bodies and heads have been separated—whether as the cause of death, or post-mortem—will rise from the dead in search of unifying their bodies. The fondness of the Icarian Army for displaying heads of rebels and traitors as warning trophies has created more of these than most other forms of murder, and even those few headless that manage to seize what they seek will remain possessed by a need to hunt. Their supernatural talents extend to command of animals and tools related to hunting and chasing; they can command riding beasts and hunting hounds alike, and turn aside both deer and fox with their mere will.

Horse, Phantom: Especially well-treated horses often arise as something like a haint, visible to all and capable of wearing tack, but being entirely silent, down to the fall of their hooves being noiseless. They seem to most often appear in order to fill a place in a carriage team missing a member, or even in numbers to pull a wagon or cart in a crisis.

Kapelyushnikles: The Hatters are a very small folk, but are possessed of the same strength as fully-grown humans in spite of their stunted and cartoonish features. They use this in their two favored trades: the hatmaking for which they are names (and which defines their status among their kin), and the care of horses and other beasts of burden. Although reviled by many as horse thieves and cattle rustlers, some scholars suspect that the truth is more that kapelyushnikles will only make off with animals they see are mistreated or neglected by their owners.

Malingerer: Distant kin to the small and gentle “sloths” of the tropical south, the swamp-dwelling malingerers are said by the learned to have grown even larger than their already towering ancestors; adaptation to changes in weather and the availability of food are often credited, while others suggest a magical transformation. Although not violent by nature, a malingerer’s stature of five to six meters—plus another one or two for its tail—and enormous vegetation-reaping claws are more than enough to erase anything perceived as a threat. It is not uncommon for them to accidentally destroy fences and walls in search of food, necessitating the unusually fortress-like construction of gardens in the northeast of Dembenklion.

Mantis Men: Tall figures that combine aspects of a mantis or grasshopper with those of a human, mantis men remain mysterious and evasive, being capable of turning transparent to the point of disappearing from view. Most often sighted near bodies of water, they seem to shun human contact, being able to emit a disorienting humming in addition to their vanishing act.

Mazikim: The children of demons and humans, mazikim possess the qualities of both and neither of their parents, having the horns, hair, and hooves of se’irim, or the feathers, fangs, and taloned feed of sheydim—but also an otherworldly beauty that can seem too perfect, refusing even attempts to modify their appearance. The dirt and mud of neither the mortal realm nor the realm of demons clings to their forms.

The Devil Jane: While often reported by gossip to be the cursed child of a witch, the more learned say that this singular being is in fact the result of a se’ir and a nehash bearing a child while both in human guise. A towering figure with batlike wings and the head and legs of a hoofed beast, Jane haunts the sandy pinelands of southern Dembenklion.

Melonheads: Child-size humanoids with enormously oversized skulls, the exact nature of melonheads is widely disputed; a clan of uncommonly small anakim, witch-spawn twisted by magic and generations in hiding, or victims of Icosan experiments in developing mental powers seem to be the most popular. Those who have encountered them report vicious attacks on small animals and humans alike, with neither to be seen again, though it is uncertain whether the humans were taken for being witnesses, or simply as food along with lesser beasts. A few reports claim that the numbers of melonheads sighted seemed to increase with each vanished person.

Mole Men: The metropoli of Dembenklion descend deep to allow its buildings to tower so far above the streets, and in the five great cities of the state, these depths turn into labyrinths of warehouse cellars, maintenance passages, and waterways both fresh and waste-filled. People who ventured into these dark places have become as sunless and eerie as the space they inhabit, and have been changed in supernatural ways. Reports from gator patrols circulate of people with small, dark eyes and clawed hands, and strangely shaped beards. 

Monkelber*: Children of one parent who is living and another who is undead, monkelber most often appear as the result of possession by dybbuks. Chronically sickly, they tend to have pale, even translucent skin, black or yellow sclera, and teeth and nails that naturally come to beastly points. Their ability to perceive even invisible spirits is valued in some places where their appearance and ill health might otherwise be shunned.

Monster Phantoms: Not to be confused with the wholly different Phantom Monsters reported elsewhere, the monster phantoms seem to be unique to northern Dembenklion; horned, white-furred creatures, they possess incredibly long and thick tails, and a shocking gaze that strikes those it looks upon as if by electrical discharge.

Nehashim: Also called Sea Serpents, Lake Monsters, and (at least by Icosans and those influenced by them), Dragons or Wyrms, the nehashim are a tremendously varied race of scaled creatures. They range in size and appearance from whale-like reptiles, down to things indistinguishable from mere garter snakes, and even including beings nearly indistinguishable from charismatic and powerful humans. All show an affinity for the water, and innate magical links to burning poisons; while they may find their way into human company, they are so different in mentality and desires that they do not remain long.

Nephilim: The union of human and malakh universally creates strange and unsettling people, human forms marked by distorted bodies with additional limbs, eyes over the whole of their forms, disproportionately massive stature, or the faces of beasts—and stranger still. Their universal traits are an innate knowledge of divine words, and a naphil possesses strength far exceeding that of mortals regardless of their outward physique.

Neveylahs: Sometimes thought of as a class of dybbuks, a neveylah (also known as a Corpse Bride) is an undead resulting from a life ending with regret over never having received a marriage proposal; they arise when their final resting place is touched by a ring or other object meant as a token of betrothal that was borne by one eligible for marriage. In spite of the language used when speaking of them, they may be of any gender or sexuality.

Phthisicks: A kind of undead often mistaken for vampirs, the phthisick are those who have died of wasting disease such as consumption—and remained desperate to regain what was lost, even in death. While immobilized in the grave, they are capable of attacking through supernatural means, and drain life from those nearby—their reach becoming greater with each life stolen.

Rats, Dire: The rats of the cities have grown unusually large, bold, and canny, with some citing magical miasma affecting the rodents, while others claim it’s the result of secret Icosan experiments. 

Sewer Gators: The sewers of the five great metropoli of Dembenklion include many waterways built to accommodate the water treatment of a tremendous industrial population, and these waters are host to more than manure. Grown fat and blind on a sunless diet of vermin (and the occasional plumber or mole person), the gators of the sewers are prone to mutations and toxicity that can easily led them to be mistaken for nehashism. But of course, there aren’t dragons in the sewers, right? Alligators are one thing, but.... 

Shretelekh: Miniature people, as small and humanly proportioned as the finest dolls and gifted in magic of plenty, the creatures otherwise called Elfs are secretive and nonverbal. They do make their will known through acts of exchange, granting ordinary folk magical gifts in exchange for a bit of consideration as fellow residents of a home or parcel of land. These gifts often take the form of food, drink, or other resources that do not run out so long as they are continuously gathered, only becoming finite the very instant there is a pause in emptying out a bottle, spooning from a container, unwinding a spool, and so forth.

Vampir: Undead consumed by a hunger for the blood of the living, vampirs are often linked to phthisicks for the apparent wasting illness of their victims. But a vampir is a stalking corpse, rather than the waiting terror of the phthisick; their lips drawn back to reveal blood-stained fangs, their grasping hands ruined by dragging themselves out of their graves, and their blood-bloated bodies stinking of decay.

Werewolves: There are two kinds of humans who are able to take on the aspect of wolves, distinguished in large part by how willing or unwilling the transformation may be.

Loups-Garous: An affliction that robs the werewolf of their sense, a loup-garou transforms under certain conditions—particular phases of the moon, certain days of the year, on tasting a particular food—into a bloodthirsty monster. Not wholly wolf nor human in their transformed state, loups-garous vary widely in how the qualities of one are added to another. Some merely grow hair all over their body and develop sharp claws and long fangs, while another may drop down to all fours and look something like a wolf with too-long legs and thumbs on its forepaws. While there is no permanent cure for this, it seems that a transformative fit may be ended by certain kinds of shock delivered by means of talismans: striking with a heavy iron key, drawing blood with something made of silver, or immersing the victim in an unpolluted stream.

Volkela’kes: A more even blending of human and canine nature, most volkela’kes are marked in their human form by uncommonly hirsute features, particularly growing hair where people typically do not, though a rare few are instead marked by a peculiar lack of hair, even on the brow and scalp. In their lupine form, they are unnaturally large and well-muscled wolves, with markings in their fur that seem to match whatever garment they wore as humans.

Weredeer*: The result of a particular curse, weredeer are fated to either die swiftly or live by violence, with their cervine and human forms alike being marked by magically-induced leucism that makes their hair and fur a vibrant white that rejects dyes. Folk who know that one is in the area tell that weredeer who are not killed by hunters, hounds, or beasts of prey are possessed of either great strength or terrible hunger, and attempt to placate them as guardians by leaving out meat deemed unsuitable by the shochet. 

White Blobs: Sighted for generations in the woodlands of northwestern Dembenklion, these amorphous entities seem to be equally at ease on the ground an in the air, their forms shifting as they move between something near to a human silhouette or inverted shadow, to a bouncing ball or bubble of soap, and with the swiftness of lightning again changing into something like a cloak or robe hanging without anyone wearing it. Those who have encountered them and told the tale have escaped without injury, but it remains unknown what happened to others who did not ever return home.

Yeduot: Intermediate between animals and plants, yeduot are animate creatures bound to the earth by a vine. In the early years of their life, they resemble lambs, and it seems typical that predation and competition over food will reduce an initial bunch to a single individual; this eventually matures into a form more like a human, growing from feral mindlessness into a creature of thought, spending their time contemplating mysteries of the universe and developing great magical insight. Even a mature yeduah considers the young of its kind as no great existence, and there have been incidents where they have offered their “fruit” to starving travelers.

*Semi-original creation not directly linked to existing myths.

[beautylovesbooze]

Mindful Hosting with Hairless Dog Brewing This Holiday Season

Mindful Hosting with Hairless Dog Brewing This Holiday Season

 Today, I’m on day 17 of my dry January. Hurray! Friday nights seems weird when I get my DoorDash. This Friday, I got some shrimp tacos delivered from one of my favorite new local joints and paired it with Hairless Dog Brewing’s IPA. Alcohol consumption has surged during the pandemic with USA Today reporting nearly 1 in 5 Americans is consuming an unhealthy amount of alcohol. As Americans gather…

[januaryisbrittishbeermonth]

Sober Curious

As mentioned earlier, my first “beer” of the new year was a stout by Grüvi that said “0% Alcohol” on the label, but the back of the can said it contained <0.5% alcohol. So, what exactly is the definition of non-alcoholic beer?

As you may be aware, the mother of all non-alcoholic regulation was the Volstead Act, which called beverages with less than 0.5% ABV non-alcoholic. Here is a picture of the women of Madison, Minnesota who fought for prohibition.

Here is a picture of some men that favored the repeal of Prohibition.

The Cullen-Harrison Act repealed the Volstead Act on March 22, 1933 ushering in a nine-month period when three-two-brew was the strongest beer that could be sold in the U.S. In December 1933, the Twenty-first Amendment to the United States Constitution was passed, negating the federal government’s power to regulate the sale of beverages, leaving that power to the states.

The states seem to roughly follow the Volstead definition of 0.5%. Beers with low-alcohol content have been called by various names including, near beer, low-point beer, nonintoxicating beer and small beer.

Back on topic, there is less ambiguity when it comes to British beer. According to BeverageDaily.com, the current UK food labeling regulations (in place since 2009) are:

- Low alcohol – product must be 1.2% ABV or below.

- Non-alcoholic – cannot be used in conjunction with a name associated with an alcoholic drink except for communion or sacramental wine.

- Alcohol-free – product must be 0.05% abv or below.

- De-alcoholised – product must be 0.5% abv or lower.

There are some in the UK that would like to raise the alcohol allowed in beers called non-alcoholic to 0.5% which would be in line with most of Europe, but others argue that labeling a drink with 0.5% alcohol as “alcohol free” is “a bit like giving a vegetarian a salad with some thinly cut ham.”

(This salad has no ham, and is therefore considered "Ham-free")

I’m going with less than or equal to 0.5% as my definition, mostly because at this point I would have to scrap my Dry January and start again in 2023.

There are two methods of making “no-alcohol” beers: 1) making beer with alcohol and then removing the alcohol, and 2) preventing fermentation during the brewing process. The first method will more likely result in beers in the <0.5% category, while the second is best suited to the under 0.05% offerings.

Hairless Dog Brewing Company of Minneapolis uses this second method to create the beer in its Dry January survival kits featuring their Citra Lager, India Pale Ale and Black Ale. The kits are marketed to the “sober curious” – my favorite term of the new year.

https://beerconnoisseur.com/news/hairless-dog-brewing-co-reveals-dry-january-survival-kits-remastered-flavors

[it-sy-bit-sy]

eh

STEP 01: TAG 20 PEOPLE

i don’t have 20 ppl. But @crazystomper​ ur here btch, probably not into this shit but do it for me pls oarelse ill steal all ur drugs

STEP 02: ANSWER THE QUESTIONS

Name: itsybitsy/Biebbs Zodiac: capricorn Height: ~170cm, that’s wut the doctors say. 5′6 Language Spoken: English, noob French, noob Arabic Nationality: U‘merican Favorite Fruit: berries. Blueberries, blackberries, raspberries. I broke up with strawberries tho (fresh ones) Favorite Scent: subtle, not too sweet or piercing. I have this knockoff brand of perfume and the cap looks like red lips and it smells good. I don’t know what tu call it though. Someone said it smells like Chanel. You think i know what Chanel smells like? Oh but the White Diamond perfume is ok, and other stuff that old people and moms wear. They have good taste. And if you know the Schmidt’s deodorant brand, I like the cedarwood + juniper scent.

Favorite Color: pastel colors make all the colors beautiful and bearable. Bright, saturated colors are pretty ugly but lemme tell u I have this bright yellow long-sleeve jumpsuit with a turtleneck and shoulder pads and I wear it with jeans and don’t even hesitate unless I’m looking too chunky for my standards, so that means I don’t mind wearing obnoxious things for fun. In my mind I’m modest. Favorite Animal: used tu be hagfish when I was little cause I saw it in an animal encyclopedia and thought it was cool. Much edge! I also liked fruit bats. I do like eels and snakes too, but they make me sad cuz I don’t think they’ll ever like me like the way a dog seems to like me. Barn owls. They’re cute. For cats I like ones that look like...white balinese, the most. Siamese is also cute. Hairless breeds are growing on me, and I hope it’s because of my edge instead of stupid Beerus from DBZ (I used to call him Anubis before I knew his name). Maine coons are also cute, but anyway I guess the long, thin structured cats are most attractive to me. Same with dogs: great danes, dobermans, dalmatians. But I like pomeranians and beagles too. There’s a lot of animals I like--.

I’m sorry. Ok to end this, I’m going to say barn owls. (Dogs/cats/snakes) 

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: tea bruh. I brew that shit and drink it straight. Usually with coffee I prefer iced instead of hot coffee. I think I have more vivid memories about coffee gone wrong: too sweet. Iced coffee is the least amount of times I’ve had it unpleasantly dressed. I’ve even made myself sick before trying to make hot coffee with creamer and sugar. Favorite Fictional Character: Of course there are many good people from so many series, but I’d say Bam from Tower of God, since the TOG series is the one I’m most excited about right now. Dream Trip: no dream destination. Anywhere but here. Even here is ok. I think who you’re with is what makes places fun. But I’m thinking about visiting someone in another country one day.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) When did you create this blog? man who knows. 2011 2012? I was 14 or something when I made this tumblr. Two of my friends at the time was like “”emg u gotta make a tumblr girh!” Didn’t do much with it as you can see. Last movie seen: Deadpool, last night with my dade. He never saw it so we watched it on demand. Before that? ...The Lego Batman movie. That shit was wild. A song you have on repeat: Michiru Mori, by Rurutia. A few months ago it was Shiki, same artist. Also Lemonade Lake by Jungle is pretty nice? Favorite Candy: gummy/fruity candy. Namely, those Airhead strips in the long green containers. Good stuff. Favorite Holiday: ...I don’t do holidays like that Last Book You Read:  Monster!! Monster by Urasawa Naoki. So good. No words. Dr. Tenma is the greatest. Thank you @crazystomper​ for showing me so many beautiful things this summer. Favorite TV Show: No tv! Ugh ok cartoonwise the Amazing World of Gumball is ok, Rick and Morty is ok, but dude it’s about that anime shit. I’m currently following this excessively beautiful show called Mo Dao Zu Shi; it’s a historical Chinese fantasy, has demons, beautiful dudes, zombies, and the scenery--just everything is beautifully drawn and when I watch it I’m blown away. Then I turn and look at typical anime like 

Also of course Monster makes the list again, Parasyte was good, MOB PSYCh0 100% was good, Detroit Metal City, Ushi0 t0 ToRa...

Bruh it’s no wonder my grades are shit! I don’t have the sense to balance pleasure and responsibility! No regrets. This was a wonderful 3 months. 10/10 would do again holy shit