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smuttysabina · 2 years

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Lia's Gossip-Filled Gangbang

(Lia x Male Reader, 1600 words)

Lia has always been a touch, concerned, about the public image of ITZY. While not openly opposing the... activities her fellow groupmates perform onstage, she often finds herself filled with righteous disgust. Whilst at the same time as she is getting her holes filled by her fan's raw, sweaty cocks. Of course, to Lia, her getting double-penetrated by guys she just met is perfectly okay, she is only working off a little steam; not like those other girls! Her propensity to whine and complain only grows as the night wears on, as she painstakingly catalogues every last immoral act her friends have engaged in. Hearing such salacious tales only causes her fans ardor to grow, and soon they are either prematurely ejaculating, or sneaking off to see if the tales are true. Which leaves you in a rough spot, since you are the last one left ah, standing per say, and Lia is far from finished with her rant.

Lia has you pinned to the floor, with that surprising strength all idols seem to possess when in heat. Your clothes went missing a while ago, and she straddles your bare thighs as she idly strokes your cock. But your member is not what holds her attention, instead Lia is mostly intent on complaining about what a whore Yeji is.

"She just takes, so many guys to satisfy her you know? Its honestly appalling watching her brutally fuck her way through dozens of guys, she's just insatiable! And Yeji makes them cum so fast too, after only a couple of thrusts they end up nutting in her already! I think they just get off to how hard she uses them, like they enjoy getting treated like a toy... You don't like that sort of thing do you huh? Mhmm of course you don't, because you are a good wholesome boy; ALL my fans are, they just need a little bit of help. You don't want to get treated like a piece of meat, and get verbally abused while Yeji's cunt practically rips your dick off with how hard its clenching on you, right? Thats what I thought! Yeah no she just fucks every guy in sight when she's horny its awful, like I cannot count the number of times I've seen her tear guys pants off and just forcibly fuck them. Yeji even does it to couples! Yeah I know right? She will just fuck the guy senseless while his girlfriend is right there wailing in horror. Okay okay, I get that she's the leader and needs to work off some steam, lord knows she does; but maybe she can do that without draining hundreds of guys? Also she keeps leaking cum everywhere, but that's kinda an idol problem so..."

Lia pauses in her excoriation of Yeji to notice that your cock is leaking profusely. She lets out a soft exclamation of surprise and smoothly plops herself onto you, sliding you all the way inside. Lia absentmindedly starts to bounce on your cock, returning with glee to her gossiping, "Oh my god, speaking of jizz, that fucking cum slut is always gushing it everywhere! Yeah, Yuna! Like every chance she gets she's getting bent over and pumped full of fucking cum. We will be doing a shoot, or a fan-meet, and you'll turn around and then next thing you know! Yuna is getting railed by like half the film crew or some shit, she'll just be guzzling cum like a freaking addict! I honestly think she needs help like this girl's sex drive is. Out. Of. Control! I have seen her literally DROWNING in cum; like she just milked too many dicks into her mouth, and now she's flailing about and crap! Do you have any idea how disgusting it is watching her cough up turgid jizz all over the place while trying to save her? Like, I'm okay with getting splattered with cum, but there are limits to what I can handle! I mean, I do appreciate that with her around we need to pleasure waaaay less guys than we did before, but does she have to be such a slut about it? I guess she did have to just sit there and watch us getting plowed constantly for a couple years, that may have messed her up a bit... Oh hey, did you just cum in me?"

Your cock flops out of Lia's pussy, her reflexive bouncing causing you to orgasm even as her mind was elsewhere. Of course, hearing all about how Yuna was a filthy cum-whore did not exactly help in inhibiting your growing load. But Lia isnt done with you yet, and she simply grabs your cock up and begins to lick and suck on it; cleaning your shared juices off of your member. But, true to form, Lia finds the time to continue complaining. "Yeah you know who else just watches stuff, Ryujin! She's usually creeping around the edges of the orgy, furiously masturbating like a pervert, making a mess everywhere. Like you'll be in the middle of getting made airtight, and then suddenly Ryujin is there squirting all over your face! I mean she does kind of help with the workload, like all the usual skulking voyeurs just dump their loads into her, which is nice. But is also means you dont get any of those shy boys anymore! Its always nice at the end of a fan-meet, all of those hesitant boys come forth with their cocks twitching... and its a treat milking them! Ugh Yeji does haul Ryujin over to the main area occasionally though, and seeing that pervert getting plowed like a fuck doll is pretty cathartic. I honestly think she enjoys getting caught, she likes to pretend that she hates being the center of attention; when really she just wants everyone to watch her being a slut! I swear she cums like a fucking fountain, and she'll keep wailing about how everyone can see what a shamefully lewd whore she is and crap. Somebody obviously has a LOT of repressed issues to work through..." Lia pauses, noticing that once more you are firmly at attention, your cock straining towards the ceiling. She lets out a pleased noise, and promptly angles your cock towards her leaking asshole. You slide into her ass, eased along by the efforts of your predecessors, making her tummy bulge a little bit where your tip is. Lia leans back, her legs framing the beautiful sight of your dick buried to the hilt inside of this idol, while your seed still dribbles out of her pussy. Evidently your turn now, you start to thrust upwards, punctuating her next distracting thoughts...

"Oh that feels quite nice actually, keep thrusting just like that... ah, that's it! Mmphmm, anal just feels so filling you know? Of course, its even better when your other holes are getting fucked as well, but that's obvious! Yeah no all of us girls can handle it, so dont be shy about using an unoccupied hole! Or even sharing one... well okay ask first before doing that, unless its like Yuna or something, I've never heard her complain lol. Oh wait, you should be careful with Chaeryeong though, she really isnt used to taking too many dicks at once! She's so much more... picky than the others, and she tries way too hard to please her fans. Like Chaery will just pick out a dozen or so fans, and the scamper off to a corner or something and take her time pleasing each and every one of them in the most intimate way possible. I think she just really needs the love and attention you know, she had it kinda harsh for a bit there, so a more private setting suits her. Not that she isnt approachable though! And Chaery does help out when we have to do gratification on stage! She's a good girl she just needs a little space you know? She's so much better than those other vulgar whores... Hnnrgh, geez you're really pounding my guts right now, are you going to cum again? Oh fuck, I can feel it in my belly, its so waaaaaarm... mmm I can tell you enjoyed yourself!"

Lia lifts herself off of your cock, her anus dragging along your shaft until it is freed with a pop. She gives you a smooch for your troubles, before looking around and realizing that you're the last fan near her, those lewd sluts didnt leave enough for her! Its so hard being the only pure-hearted girl around here, those cum-addicts just steal all the attention! Lia continues to whine to herself, wallowing in self pity as she complains about her fellow members. Lia gives you an innocent look, SHE isnt a vulgar dick-milker like the others, right?

A healthy dollop of your cum plops out of Lia's asshole, trailing down her stained thighs. Her holes are unable to close, red and swollen from getting pounded by countless cocks. Her hair is frazzled, crusted with spit and worst, her eyes red from irritation and her lips cracked. Cum and spittle stain her chest, her nipples bruised from getting suckled on one too many times. Lia's posture acknowledges none of this though, as if she is just a virginal girl, shyly showing affection to her crush. As if she hadn't just finished fucking scores of her adoring fans, as if your seed hasn't been inside all of her holes.

Yes Lia, you are a sweet and innocent girl! :)

#itzy yuna #itzy #itzy lia #hwang yeji #ryujin #chaeryeong #gossip

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panda-puma · 9 months

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I'm a little baffled by your post about the one piece anime, because while I would also recommend people read the manga instead, it still is a vastly more accurate adaption than the opla? like, opla is lovely for what it is, but oda being involved in it doesn't change the fact that they took huuuge liberties that the anime just... doesn't? which is perfectly fine for an adaption, I'm just mentioning it because it sounded like you were focused on the character dynamics, which are just... vastly, vastly different in the manga AND anime vs the live action. I'm thinking about Nami and Sanji in particular (and Usopp as well to a degree), who all kind of feel like watered-down versions of their actual selves (Nami isn't greedy enough, Usopp not cowardly enough, Sanji... well, I'm not saying Sanji being different is a bad thing asdf). Again, perfectly fine for an adaption that doesn't mean to adapt its source material beat for beat, but it just leaves me really confused over how the opla is possibly a more faithful/a better adaption than the anime? Which, as far as I can recall, has severe pacing issues, annoying fillers and leaves out things like the cover stories, but still sticks waaaay closer to the actual story and dynamics as they are in the manga.

(First of all: you can like the Anime. As I said before, I've watched the entire Anime 3 times this last year. But you can enjoy something and still know it's flawed. Very flawed, even.)

Uf, I will try to make this as short as possible xD If i sound dry or "angy", sorry, English is not my first language ^^

What baffles me is that most people really think the Anime of One Piece is a faithful 1 to 1 adaptation, or that everything on it is canon (except the fillers), or that Oda approves the changes they make. For context: it was very common in the 90s/2000s to just take a manga that was doing good and make an animation that took the characters and story and did whatever they wanted with it. One Piece is not the only victim of this treatment.

I respect the animators and Seiyuus, they do their jobs good and are what makes the Anime enjoyable. But I really can not understand the Directors and the changes they decided to make to the characters (and this applies to the whole series, not only 20 years ago).

The changes you see in OPLA are necessary to translate a drawing (Manga) to a series acted by real people. Also, condensing 95 chapters of Manga in 8 episodes and trying to bring the essence of the characters to the screen, translating Japanese funny gags to an International Audience and also having the input of 25 years of Oda thinking "huh, maybe this could have been explained better" it's obviously going to make things change.

The Anime has none of those excuses. It's also a drawing so no need to tone down, supposed to have the same Audience (even tho they really tried to make it for little kids and it shows), they clearly don't have an issue with the length of the series and they don't ask Oda for nearly any of the changes they make!

Pretending Oda being involved or not doesn't matter is just so weird to me. You know all One Piece characters are Oda's OCs, right? He is the original creator of the characters. He knows them better than anyone else. He knows where the story is going, what is acceptable, what is on character and what is not. Just because they are very famous characters it doesn't mean they are not someones Original Characters. He loves them and cares for them. Not respecting him as the only one that can say something is canon or not is completely disrespectful and dehumanizing.

About watering down characters in OPLA: again, they are real people acting the characters. In the Manga they are exaggerated to a comical effect that wouldn't translate as comical if it's real people who do it, it'd just be weird. That's because it's different mediums and different audience. But the core of the characters is very present, just less cartoony. On the other hand, the Anime reduces the characters to just this comical effect, taking away nearly everything else of the characters, making them just gags.

Answering to the specific points you make about OPLA:

Nami not being greedy enough: Nami's greed before Arlong Park Arc is just her trying to save enough to free her people. We don't really see her greed until after she is free. We haven't reached this point yet in OPLA, apart of her wanting to dress nice and enjoy a bath.

Usopp not being cowardly enough: they can not spend 5 minutes of an 50 minute episode showing him screaming around or running away. But they did show him running as first reaction in Kaya's Mansion, twice. They showed him wanting to go back home after encountering Garp. He does say cowardly things all the time, like wanting to leave, stay on the Merry, not fight the Fish Men, running away the second Chu payed attention to him… It's just less cartoony. They are also not showing inner dialogue of the characters, it's just shown by their acting.

Sanji not being a pervert: Not only is Sanji's perversion waaaay exaggerated in the Anime, to an unpalatable degree, it's also a very Japanese Funny Gag that wouldn't translate good to an International Audience. Sanji in the Manga has, on top of everything else, a friendly relationship with Nami. He can talk to her like a human being. They are friends that can agree or disagree without drama, that join forces to fix things very often and act very calm around each other unless something "special" happens and Sanji is lovestruck, but even so, he usually comes back to being normal pretty fast. Of course he likes her and he is attracted to her, but he also sees her as a person... unlike the Anime. This translated to into the Live Action to a man that tries to flirt and has no success, but that can take a no as an answer without being offended. Also, Oda probably wanted to show on the Live Action that the real reason Sanji is on the crew is no other than him following Luffy (that is also a thing that the Anime waters down: Sanji's dedication to Luffy)

The main point is: yes, OPLA is an Alternative Universe where things are shown a bit differently, but the core of the characters is the same. You see them and you see real people, just like in the Manga.

And let's see about the faithfulness of the Anime... just because the Arcs are called the same and things kind of happen the same, it doesn't mean it's a faithful adaptation. The most important thing in a story is the characters and how they interact and react to the world. These are just some differences between the Anime and the Manga that I can think of off the top of my head, just from the East Blue Saga. (without any particular order)

-- Zoro's real backstory (Manga) is that he had been in the Shimotsuki Dojo probably since birth, practicing his 2 Sword Style and only starting the 3 Sword Style to carry Kuina's Soul with him. [((spoilers from Wano: now we know Zoro is also a Shimotsuki, so he was training in his family's Dojo. It also explains why Koushirou gave Kuina's sword to Zoro so easily: they are family, and Zoro would carry the Shimotsuki name to the top of Swordmanship))].

Zoro's backstory in the Anime is completely changed to make it look like he is a random funny kid that came out of nowhere and one day appeared in the Dojo. His signature 3 sword style is also made like he just "wanted to use as many swords as possible".

I don't think it's very necessary to explain why this changes are just... terrible for the character and continuity.

[Edit: the following is not correct! Check the reblog for the correction :D] The Anime also makes Zoro's departure from Shimotsuki Village like something he planned to do, saying goodbye to Kuina's Grave and Koushiro… when in the Manga he literally tells Luffy he was kicking pirates out of his village and he got lost and didn't know how to get back. [/end of incorrect part]

Changing Zoro's character at every turn is something they love to do in the Anime.

Usopp in the Manga wants Luffy&co. to meet Kaya, because he cares about her well being. He wants her to make new friends, to be able help them and feel useful doing it. Usopp knows what Kaya needs is contact with the world and tries to bring it to her.

Usopp in the Anime is jealous and secretive of her. He doesn't want the others to go meet her, even knowing they are good people. He'd rather have her to himself.

This is a fatal change to the character of Usopp. He is a kind hearted lovely man that wants what's best for his friend... but the Anime just shows a jealous asshole.

In the battle against Cabaji, Zoro cuts his own wound, so his opponent can't use it as an advantage anymore.

In the Anime, he lowers his defense on purpose and lets Cabaji cut his wound.

The first one shows how far he can go to prove himself, also shows he is not at all worried because he doesn't consider Cabaji up to his level. I'm not sure what the second one is supposed to show apart from "children can not see self-harm".

Also in Orange Town in Manga, Luffy is fighting as much as possible against the cage he is trapped in, biting the bars. And afterwards he is very worried asking Zoro to leave him and not carry him or he will get worse from his wounds. In the Anime he is just surprised that Zoro can carry him like that. He doesn't really fight his predicament.

The Anime usually shows Luffy as an uncaring friend, which is sad when he is a character that cares so much and has so much empathy.

In the Manga, Zeff cuts his own leg and eats it to survive after giving all the food they have to Sanji.

In the Anime, Zeff lost his leg because it got caught in the ships broken pieces, and he had to cut it to survive. (i guess he survived 80 days thanks to the Holy Spirit or something) (again with being palatable to children)

In the Manga, the first encounter between Tashigi and Zoro is brief, Zoro gives her back the glasses and carries on (even tho tilted by her looking so similar to Kuina).

In the Anime, Zoro breaks Tashigi's glasses with the shock and she proceeds to be the meanest person ever insulting him in many ways (isn't she supposed to be a good person?) and forcing him to work for her to pay her glasses back, even tho she has no need for the money.

The Anime shows Zoro as a pushover, when in reality he is not. He was "pushed over" by Luffy out of the blue because it is Luffy, not because Zoro would let someone random do that to him. This type of "Zoro gets messed up easily by anyone" is very repeated through the Anime, taking away the importance of his relationship with Luffy and the other few he pays really attention to.

In the Manga, Sanji wants to be famous and have his face seen in the Newspaper. That's why he gets mad when Usopp is in Luffy's Wanted Poster and he isn't.

In the Anime, he is already a famous cook. We can see it in one of the many filler in Loguetown, where another cook has been wanting to surpass him for a long time.

[((spoiler of Whole Cake Island: This collides directly with how his Wanted Poster makes his bio Family looks for him to use him, after knowing he is still alive.))]

Also in Loguetown, in the Manga Luffy goes directly to the place Roger was executed.

In the Anime they make him get lost a hundred times for comical effect. He also meets Smoker, Buggy and others on the way… taking away all the surprise.

In the Manga, Zoro and Luffy are pretty confused with Sanji's romantic reaction to Nami. They don't get why she's getting special treatment. Zoro even wonders if she bewitched him somehow.

In the Anime, as soon as Sanji starts flirting with Nami, Zoro gets irritated and Luffy gets uncomfortable.

In the Anime they try hard to make Zoro have a romance with any girl that shows up, adding reactions that are never present in the Manga.

And well, a huge one that needs more elaboration, because it is the core of the Manga: Luffy is shown observing and judging situations and people constantly. Every time something is happening that shows the true nature of people, he is specifically shown paying attention.

In the Anime this is translated as him being an empty headed kid that barely thinks or cares about anyone. He is a shell of a man, who only repeats that he wants to be King of the Pirates...

This is a very tiny list of examples that explain themselves without going into extensive detail…

I can go on and on about more changes that make no sense or change characters personalities, but if I do, I will dedicate its own blog to it to not clutter this one. I need bigger posts to explain the changes I see in dynamics between the characters xD

And as I said: if all of these changes were approved by Oda, I would be happy to accept them. But sadly they are not.

So to me, the One Piece Anime is just a fan-made adaptation that takes too many liberties. Or, as Animes are really considered in Japan: just advertisement for the Mangas.

On the other hand, OPLA changes were approved after negotiations and struggles and years of back and forth. Oda was very invested in it, trying to really show his vision and his world as good as possible. That's why i consider the Live Action as a faithful adaptation of the story.

Of course you may not consider these things important, but they are for me. In the end, you are free to enjoy One Piece as you wish! ^^

Anyways, thanks for reading so much! xD This ended up not being short at all, but i controlled myself as much as possible, i swear uvuU

#ask #one piece manga #one piece anime #comparison #one piece #very long post #one piece live action

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gt-preys · 2 years

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Satiate the beast

Naga!Billy, Mouse hybrid!Male reader

Billy is an albino reticulated python

Warning: mentions of digestion (nothing actually happens)

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The morning is slow, feet pattering across wood in the bright light of day beaming in through open curtains.

It's spring again.

The month of bright flowers, warm days and new life.

For most that is.

However for (Y/N)'s village spring means something entirely different.

For them spring brings fear, anxiety and death for one of them.

Growing up in a village that sacrifices a fellow mouse each year to appease a hungry snake god isn't exactly ideal.

Touch wood though (Y/N)'s avoided being picked every year. To be fair sometimes he wonders if the elders even remember to put his name in for the draw, after all he's kind of forgettable.

(Y/N) hums to himself as he moves about his home, chewing on a chunk of nut as wanders. He may not have been picked in the past but that doesn't mean the day doesn't bring him any less anxiety, it only takes one draw to change the score.

A knock at his door breaks his train of thought and so finishing the food in his hand he makes his way over, opening the door to find a familiar face. "Happy first day of spring!" Steve gives awkward little jazz hands as he greets the other mouse who rolls his eyes fondly. Stepping outside, shutting the door behind himself (Y/N) shakes his head "waaaay too cheery for this month dude" he stretches, eliciting a few cracks from his back and shoulders. "Well someone gotta keep spirits up" he shrugs fluffy brown disc ears twitching amongst his hair.

"Yeah no totally, what better day than today to be cheery" he replies blankly. Steve pats him on the back as they begin descending the stairs wrapping around the tree trunk. Not many mice liked staying in hollowed out tree trunk spaces, usually a fear of not being able to flee quick enough but that also meant the trees were usually quieter than the little huts littering the ground. "You aren't gonna get picked and neither am I" Steve tries to reassure his friend "we're going to be fine, we always have been" he wants to believe him, he really does but today feels wrong.

But (Y/N) forces a smile for his friend and returns his back pat "you're right" he nods as they reach the forest floor "just like last year" with another smile from Steve the two make their way through the empty market and towards the little wooden stage set up near the edge of the village. They join the crowd as it starts to form, anxiety is thick in the air. Mice shifting from foot to foot, eyes pinned to the empty podium.

A warm palm slips into his own, Steve giving his hand a squeeze which he returns. (Y/N)'s little pink tail winds around his leg keeping the delicate appendage from being stepped on. He hates crowds, the sooner this is over, the better.

"Hello" a middle aged man takes the stage with a dry greeting with an even dryer response from his nervous audience "as you all know it is once again the first day of spring" he pause to let that sink in as the mice begin muttering anxiously before clearing his throat and speaking once again "which of course means our payment is once again due. As we do every year, all names have been placed into a box and a sacrifice will be drawn at random to keep things fair."

Fair.

(Y/N) wants to scoff. As if, the mayor probably doesn't even put his own name in. He wouldn't be suprised if none of the village elders had their names put in the box.

(Y/N) leans his body slightly against Steve's as the mayor places his hand in the box searching for the 'winning' name. The crowd is full of hushed whispering and prayers. Nobody WANTS to be chosen, but someone must. Lest the snake god lay waste to their small village and devour every last one of them; man, woman and child.

(Y/N)'s mouth feels dry as he watches the mayor pull a white slip of paper from the box, he takes his time unfolding the paper before scanning the crowd with a frown "Steve Harrington. I'm so sorry, my boy" the two mice freeze, he can feel Steve stiffen beside him, the enthusiastic energy he had been keeping up quickly slipping away.

(Y/N)'s mouth drops open in horror as he turns to stare at his friend, who is stuck staring at the stage. They chose Steve, his friend, his only friend, all he has left and they're going to feed him to a giant snake. He can see the guards advancing on them, the crowd parting to let them reach the two. They're going to take Steve from him.

He's going to die.

This isn't fair.

A guard grabs Steve's shoulder and (Y/N) can't stop himself from shoving the man away and stepping in front of his friend, arms outstretched to shield him. Steve grips the back of (Y/N)'s shirt "out of the way runt" the guard growls as he's joined by two other mice. Ouch, that stings.

He can feel the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over onto his cheeks, shaking his head he looks over to the mayor "everyone loves Steve, you can't do this" he sobs, the mayor frowns looking surprisingly remorseful but he shrugs helplessly "it is for the good of the people." (Y/N)'s heart sinks into his stomach and once again the guards are grabbing him attempting to separate the two friends.

He can't lose Steve.

"Wait!" He yells fighting the guards back before once again looking to the mayor "take me" he pleads. The mayor looks puzzled now "I beg your pardon?" Steve tightens his grip on the mouse "(Y/N), no" but he ignores him "I'll be the sacrifice" he declares. The mayor thinks for a moment, Steve is panicking and pleading for the man to withdraw his offer but (Y/N) has made up his mind. This is the best he can do for the older mouse. He'd been so kind to him, this is the least he could do.

With a nod from the mayor the guards are moving again, this time grabbing (Y/N) and pulling him away from Steve. The older mouse screams protests for them to stop but he's ignored as (Y/N) is escorted through the crowd and to a hut to be 'prepped'.

(Y/N) soon finds himself sitting in a warm bath of milky looking water. The air of the bathing room is saturated with sweet smells, accompanied by the smell of the built in wood fireplace crackling away. Maids had already washed his hair and body, lathering him in soaps of all kinds. The entire time they fed him sweet berries and other fruits, the experience would have probably been pleasant if it weren't for the fact that he was being prepped as someone else's main course.

Now left alone to soak, the consequences of his choices start to set in. By the end of today he will have been sacrificed and fed to the snake god. But Steve will be safe, he gets to survive another year. (Y/N) smiles solemnly as he sinks down into the bath, keeping the top half of his head out of the water.

A knock at the door breaks his train of thought "offering?" A soft feminine voice calls through the wood. Offering, that's all he's been referred to since leaving Steve. No longer a person, simply an offering. (Y/N) gives them permission to enter and two maids from earlier enter the room. He is made to leave the bath and stand as the two dress him like an obedient doll, they brush his hair and tail, before looking over their handiwork.

Dressed in white linen pants and a white flowy long sleeved shirt. They leave him barefoot as they bind his wrists in the front. Once they've approved his look, he's led out of the house and to the edge of the village clearing where they hand him over to a singular guard. "Safe journey" the head maid bows her head to the guard who returns the blessing.

They watch the two leave before the guard grabs hold of the rope binding the offerings wrists together. He's pulled along an overgrown pathway, barely able to keep up with the rough tugs that threaten to pull him off balance. The walk is long and (Y/N) is just thankful that the trail has been paved with smooth slabs, the walk would be worse if he got his feet cut up on rocks and twigs.

Soon the brush parts and (Y/N) is left in awe at the structure towering above them. He knew the snake lived in a temple but if the temple was this big...he swallows nervously as he wonders how large the snake god truly is.

Once more a sharp tug on his wrists forces him to start walking, the guard pushes open one of the large doors using his back, refusing to take his eyes off of the mouse even though he had made no escape attempt the entire walk there.

Swinging his arm round the guard uses the momentum to throw the offering inside as he keeps the door open, he releases his grip on the bindings and watches the mouse stumble over his own feet. Luckily (Y/N) manages to keep himself upright, ignoring the rude guard he decides instead to look around the temple's innards.

Once white marble is now graying and cracked, the temple had been abandoned for years before the God appeared or at least so Steve had once told him. Gold paints the tall pillars holding up the large structure, forming an isle towards a raised area at the very back of the temple. A shove in between his shoulder blades sends him stumbling forwards, however this time he can't stop himself from hitting the floor with a harsh smack. "Keep moving!" The guard spits in a harsh whisper. (Y/N) groans in pain at the ache now radiating from his forearms and elbows where he caught himself trying to stop his face hitting the stone floor, as well as his knees.

Not given a moment to breath (Y/N) is ragged back up onto his feet and forced to walk down the aisle. The nerves in his stomach twist and churn the closer he gets to the raised area, he can see a large length of pale yellow scales which trail off into the darkness.

Once at the steps, the guard grabs his shoulder to prevent him walking up onto the raised stone. "Oh mighty snake god" he pauses with a small intake of breath as the tail muscle ripples lightly "it..." he takes a moment to ground himself "it is once again spring and so as promised, we bring you a new offering" he bows his head as a hiss sounds in reply to his little rehearsed speech.

(Y/N) watches as the mass of scales begins sliding across the marble and up one of the pillars, watching as even the thin tail end disappears into the dark above their heads. The mouse gasps trying to back up but the guard's grip keeps him in place as huge tanned hands touch down on the floor of the raised stone, long black claws adorn each finger. A humanoid torso follows, the same tail he had watched disappear is attached to the man at the hips, those same pale yellow scales scatter over the skin as it fades to a thick muscular snake tail.

However it's the face of the god that has him in awe. The man has an angular jaw to match his muscular body, a head of long blonde curly hair brushes his shoulders. Piercing ocean blue eyes fall upon him as the snake takes in his appearance.

He hadn't expected the snake god to look so normal.

So much like them.

The snake lowers itself to be able to get a closer look at its offering for the year. (Y/N) can't look away from those eyes as they rome over him, taking in every little detail of his being. He's shaking, he knows that. He's fucking terrified of his soon to be fate but theres no going back now. He suppresses a whimper, closing his eyes as the snake places his index finger under the mouse's chin holding it up as the tip of its thumb lightly swipes over the mouse's ear which flickers fearfully in response to the touch.

"Is...is he to your satisfaction?" (Y/N) opens his eyes at the sound of the guard's voice, he forgot he was even there and from the looks of it, so did the snake. The guard sounds significantly further away than he had when making the offer but (Y/N) can still hear the sharp intake of his breath as the sharp eyes before the mouse snap up to look at his escort. (Y/N) isn't prepared for the deep rumbling hum of approval from the predator, removing his claws from the mouse he waves at the guard in a dismissive manner.

He had been deemed a worthy offer in return for the village's safety.

In return for Steve's safety.

Good.

The eyes don't leave the guard as he makes a hasty retreat out of the temple, the large wooden door creaking loudly open before closing with a thud behind him.

When the snake's eyes finally fall back onto (Y/N) he finds himself once more unable to look away, struck by the sheer beauty of such a vibrant blue. Like crystal clear stream water. The snake God's gaze feels almost hypnotic like.

The two sit in relative silence for sometime, sizing each other up. The only sound in the air is (Y/N)'s shuddering intakes of breath. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, the anticipation of a strike from the snake is killing him. But the snake seems to be in no rush, opting to observe his meal to be with keen eyes.

(Y/N) watches as a split black tongue, thicker than a regular snake tongue, flicks out from between the God's full pink lips. The mouse isn't stupid, he knows how snakes taste the air and with the snake's tongue being so close to him there's no doubt it could taste him well.

"Odd" (Y/N) gasps audibly at the rough voice, for some reason he hadn't expected the snake to be able to talk, at least not in a language he understood. He furrows his brows in confusion at the snake's remark "huh?" The God grins at the mouse's reaction seemingly amused. Readjusting himself the snake leans back on his coils, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. The snake radiated power, even acting so relaxed he still gave off an incredibly intimidating aura.

"Normally my prey screams, tries to run or are just dragged in and held from the moment they're chosen" he pauses, that ink black tongue flicking out once more as he pauses "but you haven't so much as moved from that spot..." raising a brow, the snake rubs the side of his index finger against his lower lip in contemplation. "Why is it you are here?" (Y/N) frowns dumbfounded at the question. He knew why, he requested sacrifices. What was the point of asking the obvious? A trick maybe?

Swallowing to clear the lump in his throat (Y/N) responds "to be a sacrif-" the snake huffs cutting the mouse off "I know that. Why aren't you running or begging?" His ice blue eyes glimmer with curiosity. He squirms under the intense gaze, sighing when it becomes clear to him that the snake won't let this go. Why hadn't he just devoured him yet?

(Y/N) sighs, dropping his eyes to the marble floor "Steve. My best friend was supposed to be the sacrifice today...he's all I have left, I couldn't lose him, it's better this way. He's too good to just be seen as food" he's honest in his answer feeling that the snake might somehow know he's trying to deceive him. (Y/N) raises his eyes nervously to see if his answer had appeased the God. "You don't see yourself as good?" The snake tilts his head in question. "I don't...I don't know" he replies slowly confused at the gentle probing questions. "Sacrificing yourself for another, that's pretty selfless" he smiles at the god sadly with a shrug "I guess so" at the self deprecating reply the snake seems to think of more things he wants to know but (Y/N) is over it. This is dragging on too long, he feels sick and he just wants the snake to get it over and done with.

"I heard you prefer to swallow sacrifices whole... and...and alive...is that true?" It was a rumour (Y/N) had heard repeatedly as he grew up in the village. The naga rights his head as he licks his lips, face blank watching the little mouse's reaction as he speaks "it's true, it's...an acquired taste" he takes his time to choose his words.

Devoured whole and digested alive, a truly horrific death. He feels bile climb up his throat but a swallow keeps it down. He'd rather not embarrass himself further in front of this being.

(Y/N) nods trying to sike himself up "I'm ready" he's not. That smirk is back "such a brave mouse" the snake leans down to brush a clawed finger against the offering's hair, he then lowers himself further to lay stomach down on the marble flooring. "I'll be gentle" (Y/N) watches with growing fear as the giant's lips part, jaws opening wide to reveal a pink maw dripping with saliva, large white fangs frame the pearly white teeth leading into the cavernous mouth.

It's only then that it occurs to the mouse that he expects him to willingly step into his jaws. He lets go a shaky breath as he steps forwards, he can feel those eyes on him still but doesn't look up. Curiously he reaches his hand out to run his open palm along the thick serpentine tongue eliciting a soft hiss from the back of the snake's throat. Yanking his hand away in suprise the mouse backs up, eyes flicking up to observe the God's face.

He finds those pretty blue eyes closed, seemingly having enjoyed the touch.

Or maybe his taste?

Taking a deep breath he moves back to the mouth, steeling his nerves at the sight. He'll be a good little meal for the snake. He won't be a hassle. He's doing this for Steve.

Being careful, (Y/N) holds onto the snake's fang with his other hand attempting to find purchase on the slippery black muscle beyond. His hand slides across the surface and out from under him leaving him laying halfway out of the being's mouth, legs flailing uselessly. The snake, apparently done with waiting, slips his tongue under the mouse and through his legs to curl around his backside, aiding in pulling him up and into his jaws.

Once (Y/N) is completely inside his mouth the snake closes his lips behind the morsel, teeth clicking shut sealing the mouse inside. (Y/N) squirms around on the muscle, shifting around so that his head is now near the front of the maw on his stomach. The snake hums, flicking its tongue up to lick the mouse's face, an even louder hum following as the snake begins prodding and licking at the sweet treat resting in his mouth.

(Y/N) gasps as the tongue below him rises up to gently pin him to the roof of the mouth, he squeaks, feeling the snake swallow down the excess of saliva in his mouth. The sound of him swallowing causes (Y/N)'s heartbeat to spike with fear.

The snake sits back up as he releases the mouse from his restraint, leaning back on his coils as he sucks on the mouse like a sweet, enjoying the sweet berry flavour the tiny's skin offers. He takes his time thoroughly enjoying his treat, not even trying to hide the pleased noises he makes. But all good things must come to an end and so he tilts his head back giving a quick swallow, he feels the mouse fall into his throat with a yelp.

He grins at the cute noises. Pressing his fingers to his neck, he traces the little bulge the mouse makes all the way down past his collarbone till he feels him drop into his stomach. Looking down to his abdomen, he strokes the skin there with a satisfied grin, finding that from the outside there's no evidence of the tiny he has tucked away beneath the muscles.

(Y/N) squeaks in fear as his confines shift and he slips to the back of the snake's maw, a loud swallow sounds around him and he's dragged down into the man's esophagus. The muscles around him knead and pull him further down, it's not long before he's falling into an open space. The wall behind him presses in startling the mouse.

"I have to say little mouse" the voice rumbles all around him "you are most certainly a worthy offering" the snake says it as if it's a compliment and maybe in the eyes of the snake it is. But to (Y/N) it just sounds mocking. At his silence the snake presses a little on his stomach as he rubs the area "you should rest" the mouse huddles against the opposite wall trying to get as far away from the snake's touch as he can "thank you for the meal" (Y/N) bites his lip to stifle the sob building in his throat.

It's a while before the snake can feel the mouse slowly drift off, allowing himself to drift off. Feeling this the snake slithers back up into the ceiling rafters, coiling himself around a rafter before laying back on his tail, resting a clawed hand across his full stomach protectively.

(Y/N) groans shifting in his sleep, the bed under him feels weird and oddly cool, not a bad thing but certainly odd. Cracking open his bleary eyes he's confused to find his vision filled with yellow and suddenly everything comes rushing back. The mouse sits up expecting to find himself still inside of the snake awaiting a painful death, but instead he finds the same white marble from the day before. He scans the room and finds the snake laying on his stomach, his arms crossed under his head as he suns himself with the light pouring in through a wide crack in the ceiling.

"I'm alive?" The snake cracks an eye open to peer at him and he hums lazily. "But why?" He doesn't understand. He was swallowed, he should be dead. This couldn't be possible. "I don't digest mice, never have" he answers as if it's that simple "then why the sacrifices, what happens to them after?" He shrugs lazily "your kind made that decision, decided I was a danger that needed to be sated. I wasn't going to argue, it just means I get something to fill my stomach while I hunt" the snake rises up to stretch his back with a yawn, cracking his spine with a pleased rumble.

Turning to face the mouse completely "I got some fish by the way if you're hungry" he offers but the mouse thanks him and shakes his head. "As for the after" he shrugs again "they run, I guess to retrieve their family and find a new town to live in" (Y/N) doesn't get to ask anymore questions, going quiet as the God moves closer.

"You said Steve is all you have left, though I doubt you'll be allowed to return to him" the mouse sighs softly "yeah" the snake nods giving him a soft look "I have a proposition" (Y/N) tilts his head in curiosity. "Stay here with me, I'll provide and shelter you" the offer is surprisingly sweet but he can't help but wonder "what's the catch?" The snake huffs a breath with a soft smile and shakes his head "no strings, I enjoy your company" he speaks fondly "you made quite the first impression, little mouse" (Y/N) flushes, averting his eyes shyly "oh, then I agree" the snake smiles, the most genuine smile he'd been given since reaching the temple.

"Also" the snake grins laying down and (Y/N)'s heart drops expecting the snake to request him as an offering again "I'm not a God" he laughs and (Y/N) almost sighs in relief. "Then what are you?" He asks curiously and the snake seems to grin even wider, if that's even possible. "I'm a naga" he replies "huh? I mean I knew nagas could get big, but I've never heard of one as big as you" (Y/N) says in awe, seeming to stroke the snake's ego, his grin shifting to a smirk. "Yeah, we reticulated pythons get pretty big. We are the perfect predators afterall" he boasts making (Y/N) smile at his enthusiasm.

The naga pauses for a moment, brushing his claw gently against the mouse's tail, seeming in thought, then those big ocean blue eyes flick back up to meet his "I never asked your name" he says, surprising the mouse "oh, it's (Y/N). What's your name?" He asks holding his hand out for a shake, the snake eyes his tiny hand with an unreadable look before giving a light light and placing the tip of his nail in their holding "(Y/N) suits you little mouse" he compliments, shaking their hand "I'm Billy."

Maybe volunteering himself wasn't his worst decision ever.

#stranger things vore #naga vore #pred #soft vore #safe vore #v/ore #g/t vore #tw vore #billy hargrove vore

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thelaurenshippen · 2 years

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alright, I decided to just go and actually LISTEN to all the andor title themes back to back (and put them into a playlist, only the ones up through Episode 8 have been released it seems) and pick out the biggest differences, so here we go. my music degree is ten years old and very dusty, so there's absolutely better people out there to talk through this but I haven't seen anyone else doing it yet! this is my attempt.

the theme melody is in each episode, but the orchestrations are incredibly different. each theme starts with two tones - a bass tone that acts as a drone initially, and a higher tone that is usually pulsed. then the melody comes in and builds up to...well. it changes based on the arc. okay. here we go:

FERRIX ARC

Episode 1- droned low tone, pulsed higher tone, and then establishes the theme with sweeping strings and steady, then bombastic, percussion. brass come in to double the theme as it builds, before falling into a B section - very much what we'd expect from a Star Wars theme, big and orchestral and memorable.

Episode 2 - starts roughly the same, is melodically the same, but has waaaay less texture. it relies entirely on strings that feel bare, there's no brass or percussion, instead texture created from the strings overlapping and then abruptly cutting off and reverberating into nothing. no B theme whatsoever.

Episode 3 - the first time the low tone is pulsed, the higher tone is plucked this time, which gives it a very different feel. the melody is initially on synths and more of a vague suggestion at the melody before the actual melody as we know it comes in on the strings. my favorite thing about this one is that the percussion is through the kind of stick hitting sound that ferrix uses for their warning system in this episode, so it's a little preview of that.

ALDHANI ARC

Episode 4 - no opening tones at all, just intense percussion and then what sounds like some electric guitar texture way in the back. the melody is very hidden initially before coming in on our familiar strings, but it stays behind the percussion the whole time before it all suddenly stops, the reverberation shorter this time than in other episodes.

Episode 5 - an interesting mix of Episodes 2 and 3 feelings-wise in my opinion - both tones at the top are pulsed/plucked as in Ep 3 but the whole thing has a very delicate feeling to it, akin to Episode 2. this is the first theme where piano features prominently, playing the lead melody and it's also the first time we have our B section from Episode 1 again. I've been trying to figure out why we get the full theme this time, B section and all, and why it's so delicate, and I think it's because this is really the episode where all the various plot lines we've been following are all present and everyone is carefully constructing their missions, hence the delicacy.

Episode 6 - we start on strings and there is no low tone at all. everything is very percussive outside the melody and percussion only comes in toward the very end, an organic beat that brings us out alone. in general, this theme feels way more "organic" than the rest - no synth instruments, more warm and round tones, I think probably meant to reflect the people of Aldhani's celebration of The Eye. I also find it fascinating that for an episode that is so tightly choreographed, that has such a bombastic sequence, this theme feels like disparate staccato parts that don't build like the rest. nicholas britell, let me into your mind.

THE ANNOUNCEMENT

Episode 7 - this episode is sort of a standalone in between arcs, and the theme reflects that - it's a little confusing, using synths and a a bunch of instruments that are also probably synths but that I can't identify. there's a fuller sound than the last episode, but more chaotic texture, with these moaning synths punctuating throughout. and we do fall into the B section again (which I'm beginning to think is the mark of transition points), but it happens more subtly than previously.

NARKINA 5 ARC

Episode 8 - we get percussion right at the start and, in one of my favorite choices, we get the melody on synths but they're pitch bent to sound distorted. the strings come in and the drums build, but it cuts off quick, the distorted synths the last thing we hear

(had to go back into the episodes themselves for these last two)

Episode 9 - the beginning is completely different from other themes, a fast and frantic...synth? of some kind? with an adagio melody coming in right away, rather than one of our familiar tones. we can hear the same distorted synths in the background, but the melody is a little clearer. but everything feels....further back. the melody is quiet, without one piece of the overall orchestration really taking the lead. think there's probably a lot to explore here re: nobody's listening! and also the prisoners working in perfect lockstep on the floor.

Episode 10 - starts more traditionally, low tone then high, except the higher tone is on a wind (?) instrument I think and, to me, evokes the feeling of an orchestra tuning up (fwiw, it is literally playing A440, the tuning pitch) and the wind instrument builds the melody before the strings come in and take over, then handing it off to the brass. like Episode 1, it is more traditionally orchestral, and there's something really lovely about the instruments handing off the melody to each other, in the way the prisoners all join together for the escape. it doesn't build into anything bombastic, but falls into that B section and, because I had to go back into the episode to listen, I realized that the B section (at least for this one) is over action in the show, not the title.

anyway, thank you for reading this if you read this far and also apologies for splattering my brain over your tumblr dash, I just had to sit down and listen to all these. someone much smarter and better at musical orchestrations has probably already done a whole youtube video essay on this, so please send those links if you've got them

#huh this feels slightly different from last week #andor #andor spoilers #nicholas britell #andor theme #episode 8 was when I went from to oohhhhhhh this is distorted I think they ARE all diff #bc that particular pitch bending is exactly what we did in tama #also I would suspect that next week we'll get something vastly different #and if there are any sticks in the main title #I think we can expect something big to go down on ferrix #that's my one theory #long post #lauren feels things

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gwydionmisha · 1 year

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Personal: This Person Just Uncleaned My Apartment

I think I need to tell you about the Cleaner, because OMG, but for that you will need context on my pain/meds situation.

So less pain does not remotely equal no pain. My hip joints were a mess Wednesday, and only a little better Thursday. My shoulder joints, and thus my arms, started to go bad Thursday. The fundamental things wrong with my body aren't fixable, but the new meds are doing a stellar job on what I think of as the secondary pain, IE: everything else not joint or tendon or in their immediate vicinity. It is far more effective than the muscle relaxants I've been using for decades at this since it's hitting the nerves and not just the muscles. It also adds to the tired. So much to the tired. Bonus: on the new dose, I get dizzy if I don't rest enough, and the heart palpitations hit longer and harder when they hit.

Dramatically better means for an extreme chronic pain/chronic illness perspective, not from a remotely healthy person's perspective, if you follow. I was into about a month of unbearable torment when we tried the one pill dosage. I'm still not sure my system can handle the two pills, and I plan to stick to this dose. They are supposed to last eight hours, but I get an extra four hours of partial coverage per pill, and like I said the side effects are scaling up on me.

So right now my balance sucks, I'm exhausted, and my shoulder joints scream at me if I try to do anything remotely strenuous with them, you follow?

So far I've had four different cleaners turn up, two of them twice. Three of those are hard and thorough workers. One of those will not wear her mask. I put up with it because I am wearing mine and turn on all the fans and I'm scared if I don't take her, no one will come. (see five skipped cleaning appointments in a row).

Cleaning is a hard fucking job and they are underpaid, get no benefits, no set hours, and have to pay their own travel costs including for the ferry if they are coming from the reservation and that is a lot of gas. I respect cleaners. I've done it, after all, amoung the many shit jobs I had over the years. I trust them to know what they are doing. This has been the case in three instances. Most of the conversation with those three cleaners has been things like: Where does this go? Where is (whatever) kept? What should i do next? I refuse to micro manage. In my experience, micro managing is dramatically less efficient and just insults the person doing the job. I know I hated it, when I was the person being micro-managed. This works great for Goth Millennial and for the other three cleaners on the other four occasions.

I'm sure you are sensing the big but here.

So the cleaner who came today, turned up the other time she was here high as a kite. I don't mean a little buzzed, which is fairly normal in this town and this state. Weed's been legal here for ages. People with shitty service jobs occasionally come to work a schootch high. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things if, say, your barista's a little buzzed. I don't partake myself for a host of reasons, but most of my friends since... I'm going to say 1985, have/do. A little high is no big deal.

Orbiting Pluto without a suit is. She was way out of it girl at a party who's friends have to watch her like a hawk high. She was barely coherent high. She drove here. O.o. She drove home. This terrifies me. after some consultation with my friends including them seeing the mess she made and me acting out vignettes, our best guess is she must have dramatically misjudged an edible. (It had to be vape or edible. I would have smelled smoke. Edible makes the most sense for both the degree of Jesus fuck high and the thinking she was fine when she left home, but waaaay not fine when she got here. Surely she would have cancelled otherwise, right?).

So basically instead of my working away at the aggregate or tumblr queue programming or whatever, it was a lot like baby sitting a toddler who would not shut up, only the toddler would make more sense and the mess would have likely been confined to things in a toddler's reach. I had to go around after she left and actually use the forbidden to me for safety reasons ladder to save a bunch of my cups and glasses from the accident I could see happening the second Squirrel opened a dish cupboard because he had jammed them in their so precariously that the door was the only thing preventing them falling. Goth Millennial came the next day and had to take everything out and restack it. I could live with the fitted sheet being inside out, so we left that for today.

I did not turn her in to the asshole agency because 1. worker solidarity. I never went to work on a substance, but I've worked so, so many shit jobs and the Asshole Agency is terrible. 2. I was pretty sure it was a mistake involving an edible. 3. I was big on giving people another chance when I was teaching. On fuck up shouldn't lat for ever unless that fuck up was malicious or really damaging to other people.

Well, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me.

No, she was not noticeably high this time, though I couldn't rule a mild buzz out. She also had a shamefaced and subdued demeanor that clearly told me she knew how badly she'd fucked up last time. She said she'd signed up for me on purpose instead of her other option because I was really nice to her and my apartment was full of interesting things to look at while she cleaned. My apartment is full of interesting things to look at and I suspect she liked me because I was consistently kind to her when she was a mess last time and hadn’t turned her in. She really is sweet and nice and she is clearly trying her best but not remotely the sharpest tool in the shed. Which can be fine. I've known a lot of good workers over the years with significant developmental or accident related challenges and they did fine. She wasn't in that category, but I realized she'd need extra supervision compared to the others. I underestimated how much.

She did walk right up to Tavy and start petting him right away like last time which again confused and alarmed him. Sure, Squirrel and I and a couple of the Millennials can do that because we are his particular friends, but he barely knows her and and she would NOT stop doing that last time no matter how many times I told her he was a biter and apt to maul when he was worked up. I was so proud of him because he did not attack her the first three times, and honestly the forth time, I would have bitten her too in his place.

Tavy was noticeably wary of her. He did want to watch what she was doing, but he remembered her. (By contrast, the other cleaners he'd watch from a distance for a while, and then follow around and in a couple cases, get me to pick him up so he could get a better look. He really took to the GNC person who came once, and kept sniffing their legs). He did let her pet him without biting her, and she was together enough to stop when I told her he was down, and leave him alone for the rest of the two hours when I said he was in a mood to hang out and watch but not interact.

I got her through the linen change okay and last time she was so high she forgot we had a dishwasher after she'd emptied it and it took her most of her shift except the linen change, but the dishes looked and smelled clean, so I set her to that and did not remotely supervise her enough. This I did not discover until evening, but we'll get to that.

Then I set her to sweep and mop, which... Like I've worked a lot of restaurant jobs, often with people in a supported worker with severe intellectual challenges. I've never seen one who'd been doing it for years who couldn't do it correctly. She said she'd been doing this for several years.

Assuming makes an ass out of me, doesn't it?

Oh gods the mess she made! I should have known it was too hard for her when she started prepping for mopping before sweeping. So I told her to sweep first, which she did. I told her to dump the water in the sink, not the tub, which turned out to be very, very lucky. (The tub is the most expensive thing I own. A city program that remodels for elderly and disabled people paid for it. I will never be able to afford to fix or replace it. There are super strict cleaning directions for a reason, because the mechanism is delicate.) I told her to use the liquid all purpose cleaner under the sink. I should have got it out and prepped the bucket myself, but bending hurts and I was exhausted and dizzy and my arm situation was deteriorating. I should have done it anyway, because this is So. Much. Worse.

She used a ton of water. Like way, way to much water in a way that suggested she did not wring the mop and/or she was dumping puddles out of the bucket. It was a terrifying fall risk situation because this was the end of her shift and I really really needed to get ready for bed as soon as she left and forage delivery was late so I had to go drag it in, just as I'd given up and settled into bed. So I'm dizzy with unreliable legs, using both hands and going careful back and forth over this swamp of a floor with a weird gritty, soapy texture. Which is... not what you want in a cleaner for elderly and disabled people. I could fall and end up in the hospital under those conditions. And it;'s not like I could want a couple hours for it to dry. There was no point in washing my feet in the bathroom, so I kept using wipes on them before getting into bed.

Then I woke up to pee and realized just how bad it really was. *head desk* My best guess is she used Ajax, which is stored under a bookshelf in the bathroom, not under the sink. Like a TON of Ajax. The kitchen sink and nearby counter was caked with it and the floor was tacky and gritty and full of muddy footprints. I couldn't leave it like that. I cleaned the sink. I took the other mop with the disability friendly easy to wring it out attachment which had been to complicated for her head and wet mopped it all again, frequently rinsing and wringing it out, until my arms basically gave out and I had to wash up and take a nap.

It's still incredibly dirty. I feel like crying, because I can't feel clean unless my feet are. I've been skating around on damp towels, but though my hip joints are a lot better this evening, I wear out fast and it hurts quite a bit if I do it too much. I hate leaving a terrible mess like this for the millennial, but I simply can't mop any more with these arms. I'd have been so much better off giving her something else to do, but I couldn't think of anything else simple enough for her, and I know from last time she will not leave early no matter how much I tell her she can just clock out at the end of the hour.

At this point I was debating what to do. I had settled on calling Monday and asking them to put her on my no list without giving a reason, because I simply can't go through this again. It's too hard on my body and it's incredibly could seriously injure me dangerous.

Then I went to feed the Empress Livia and discovered something worse.

I'm medically fragile. Amoung so many other things, I have an immune system that is far more interested in own goals than fighting pathogens. I can and will catch anything you expose me too. Anything. I also have a dicey digestive system. Anything I use to prepare food or eat or drink needs to be really fucking clean. We prewash for grease and stuck on food then run them through the washer to make sure the soap and anything else is off. yes, I know this is bad for the environment as it uses extra water, but it’s a serious safety issue for me.

I was very, very clear on directions because I remembered last time. “Wash the dishes and then put the in the dishwasher. The dishes in there are dirty, so don’t put them away. I will run the washer after you leave.” Did she do that? No. Were the dishes cleaned and dried, which would be reasonably acceptable as an alternative? No. They were jammed in with the clean dishes, soaking wet and covered in soap bubbles six or seven hours after she left. We'll have to go through all the pans tomorrow. I pulled the pans and dishes I remembered were in the sink yesterday. I have no way of guessing with the glasses and flatware and I don't know which things Squirrel put in there.

I am exhausted and I hurt and I've been pushed way past the limit of what my body can handle in a day and I can't trust my dishes or the glass I'm drinking out of and I can't get the dirty Ajax grit off my feet. I'm going to go take a bath, but my feet will be dirty again the second I touch the floor.

She's another poor person. I feel like a class traitor just putting her on my no list, but she could theoretically kill an elderly person with her mopping, and I can't decide if I should say something, because anything I do will be a terrible option.

This person literally uncleaned my apartment. I just....

Look, I know it’s a free service, but this is so very much worse than when they don’t send anyone.

#WTF?!?#Asshole Agency

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canmom · 1 year

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extremely morbid statistics i felt compelled to look up

i can't seem to find data on the number of deaths worldwide in 1946, but i assume it was about 50M💀/y, which is what it was in 1950. estimated deaths caused by wwii and all its genocides and famines is apparently best estimated at 70-85 million, about 3 in every 100 people across the world. so it would have taken less than two years for more people to have died after wwii than due to wwii.

meanwhile if you extrapolate that back, for six years of war that's about 300M💀 from all the usual sources on top of the ones caused by the war. which means that during wwii, the annual deaths goes up by about a quarter. enormous as far as any sort of world historical event goes but it means that all the other things in the world that kill people were and are doing so at a rate that's like quadruple wwii, which is insane to try to think about.

that number has gradually gone up a small amount, about another 10M💀/y, because the population went way up but the death rate went significantly down at the same time. it's gonna go waaaay up in the future though, bc the death rate isn't getting much lower.

and since that same graph of deaths has a notable spike in the last couple of years, let's... yeah, let's look at the pandemic i guess. it's gone up from 57.94M💀/y to 69.25M💀/y from 2019 to 2021. about a 20% bump, not sure where this year will come in as. to corroborate, there are about 6.67M💀 directly confirmed to be covid by the end of 2022, but excess deaths from the pandemic is apparently around 18.2M💀by the end of 2021 (with huge error bars), which includes people directly killed by covid, people who died because the healthcare system collapsed, and probably a bunch of deaths caused indirectly by all the economic disruption, fuck knows how it all shakes out. so that's comparable to wwii, similar order of magnitude.

'60 million people die every year under business as usual' and 'we are living through a world war level of excess death' are the kind of pieces of information a human brain doesn't really have the capacity to comprehend non-abstractly I think, which may be for the best. of course there's a big difference between dying in a war and dying peacefully of old age - or for that matter dying young of malnutrition. but I'm going to get stuck on some kind of horrible mortality statistics rabbit hole if i continue and that always ends staring at the number for 'suicide', or some weird abstract attempt to comprehend entropy and reconstruct why everything is so absolutely horrible from first principles. so it's probably best if i just stop looking.

a deer doesn't think or feel anything about deer mortality statistics. it's a human affliction, from the era of biopower, to be able to notice, to invent the idea of 'numbers' and put a handle on the scale of it. and with all the error bars and powerlessness and abstraction, it's a flimsy handle, and it's painful to hold for long, like a rusty piece of metal. you could die of tetanus!

you and about 60,000 other people this year.

#death

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a-tale-of-legends · 7 months

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There's no doubt in my mind that the protags are often compared to the previous champion once they gain the title, regardless of who that champion was. But I do think that the Sinnoh and Galar ones have it the worst.

Cynthia is constantly treated as this major threat by the fandom. In game maybe less so, but I wouldn't be surprised if people thought of Cynthia as The Cynthia, you know. So here comes this kid, an 11 year old I must add, who just takes up Cynthia's title? Impossible, there must have been a fluke! Or better yet, Cynthia went easy on her, there's no way someone like Danica would become champion, right? I don't think in the early years of Danica's champion reign she ever really noticed these comments. They weren't exactly the majority and for the most part Danica was living her best life, battling others, training pokemon, gaining an interest in baking. But it's when she gets a little older she actually starts to hear these things said about her. About how she's an imposter. A mere shadow of what Cynthia was. I think that got her really depressed for a while, honestly. Which sucks bc this girl loves battling. Being champion was something she earned and loved, but that small majority just made it so hard. However, I do think that Danica was able to overcome this. At least until Kiran went missing, since at that point she stepped down as Champion. Mostly to focus on finding Kiran, but I wouldn't be surprised if the girl was just tired.

Galar is a while other story, since we can really easily get a sense of how people could react to a champion. Again, while I believe - for the most part - the general public was happy that Naomi was their champion, you can't tell me that the transition from " The Unbeatable Champion Leon!" to " Naomi" isn't jarring to the more die hard fans. Again, like Cynthia, I wouldn't be surprised if some people called Naomi's victory a fluke, that she cheated somehow and that she should be dethroned as champion. Unlike Cynthia n Danica, I think this small majority is waaaay louder than what Sinnoh has to offer. Tabloids talking about Naomi, "analyzing" her battle with Leon, people picking apart everything she does ( mind you, she is just 15. A 15 year old with anxiety mind you). Leon and the rest of the league honestly do a good job at blocking this noise out, making Naomi's reign as champion as smooth as it possibly can be, but shits tough. Especially for Naomi who's still building her confidence as time goes on. Again, she has a large support system that makes things easier, and eventually she's able to not give a damn....most times. But the first year or so was. Rough. It does not help that she's a Chosen and has to deal with Chosen Shit. ( Though, the wolves also pull in their weight in making sure Naomi is feeling as good as she can be. Fogging up cameras is a signature move of theirs~)

Last thing before I end this off is that the most scrutiny that Kenji has faced was when he proposed the splitting of the league. Which, I mean, fair, that's pretty big and it wasn't surprising to hear people not be a fan of that. But I also think, in smaller doses, Kenji does get compared to Red a lot. I mean. Kid from small town that turned out to be a pokemon battling prodigy and single handedly defeated team rocket? Not hard to compare the two. And at first, it was something that Kenji loved. Red was his hero after all. But then he met Red. And then, after that, he grew up and started to do his own thing, make his own path. The phase " Wow, your just like Red!" started to lose its warmth. He didn't take offense to it! Just that it wasn't like how he was as a kid. And then the phrase turned into " Why can't you be more like Red?", mostly in the fact that Kenji was a very extroverted, energetic kid, while Red is " cool calm and collected". The phrase doesn't come up often, in fact it was pretty rare, but when it does, it hurts. Kenji is already dealing with his own self doubt as is, wanting to live up to what he assumes everyone's expectations of him, as well as ( as mean as this sounds) to be what Red couldn't. So to hear " why can't you be like Red", fucking hurts. Blue can attest to this, it's not fun. It's no fault of Red of course. Kenji knows that Red is just as hurt by the pedestal he's been placed on as Kenji is the one being compared to him. But it hurts. It's like what he's already doing isn't enough. Like he isn't enough. Why can't he be enough?

And yeah, that's some oc angst for yah!

#r rambles #legendverse #oc: naomi einar #oc: kenji hino #oc: danica yamamoto

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wafflebloggies · 1 year

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10. a heap of broken images

back - next “So, Mark, this is Jared…”

Mark, it had to be said, did not look as if a large, near-invisible shadow-creature looming up out of the darkness and regarding him with a trio of eyes like the functional parts of a red-hot gas stove was a welcome addition to the list of concepts he was already struggling to grasp. He stared up at Jared in speechless silence, and when Jared’s eyes gave a friendly tilt, dropped several feet and whipped towards him, he sucked in a breath so sharp that Antonio was concerned he might have inhaled his own tongue.

“Look who it is! Double-M-hockey-sticks! It’s cool, we go waaaay back.”

“Uh?” managed Mark.

“Oh, yeah-yeah-yeah, I’ve been watching you for what, like, a year now?”

Mark made a noise.

“Gotta say, you’re taller IRL,” said Jared, happily. “Probably a perspective thing, right? Also way better res, which, like, no joke, literally every single cam in your house is ANCIENT at this point. Stone age. I kept bugging ya boy to replace them- no hate, ‘Tone- I was like, hey, I’m just your eye in the sky here, it’s not like I can just snap my fingers and your actual hardware gets upgraded with the power of heart or whatever. But he was always like... oh, hey, you good?”

This last, because Mark had just sat down suddenly with a thump, his knees having apparently decided they were even less keen on the way this conversation was going than the rest of him.

“It’s okay, Mark,” said Antonio, coaxingly. “Jared monitors all the hosts, twenty-four-seven. It wasn’t just you.”

When Mark finally found his voice, it was quite a lot shriller than usual. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

Antonio thought about it, reaching for Mark’s backpack, which had fallen off his shoulder as they’d scrambled inside the door. “I mean, yeah, it was, but I guess I can see why it doesn’t. Jared, hey, uh… I know this is kind of a big ask, but…”

Popping the inner zip, he upended the backpack over the nearest free desk. With a slithering scuffle of plastic wrappers, a small landslide of bright packages and baggies slid and tumbled over each other into a rough pile on the dusty melamine surface.

“We need a way out.”

Jared’s eyes gleamed. A long slender thing, like a steely finger with far too many joints, snickered indistinctly past Mark’s ear and pinned one of the little packets (a crowded graphic-design abomination, featuring sugegasa-wearing cows somersaulting cheerfully through flames), whipping it up into the shadows.

“Buddy, just call me Healthy Community, because I have got you COVERED.”

–-

Where there was a will- and an entire bodega rack’s worth of premium dried beef products- it turned out there was a way.

Jared called them dead zones. The cameras covered almost everywhere within the HR Department, Jared’s endless ranks of shiny black eyes, in corners, in ceilings, down blind alleys and empty rooms and well-trodden corridors, but with care and a little assistance to even out the odds, a path could be walked between them. The places between were cramped and confusing and nearly as difficult to travel as they would have been to find without Jared’s help. They were not the safest places, even within this hungry, malignant landscape, and they certainly weren’t the easiest to explain.

Here was a well of dank air, some fifty feet across, stirred in a slow, endless spiral by the movement of some enormous fan or turbine, deep enough below that it was far out of sight of any travellers along the narrow path that spanned it, a clanking catwalk of green steel. Condensation dripped from the pale heights, made the metal slimy underfoot.

Mark managed a couple of wobbly steps out over the void, then slid to his knees against the spindly safety rail, a sad arrangement of metal rods and chickenwire which overall came off as less of a barrier than a polite suggestion. Antonio, following with a surer step, resisted the urge to hook a fistful of the back of his sweater, just in case. He didn’t think Mark was likely to actually pitch himself over the railing, but he did appreciate that the last twenty or so minutes had been quite a lot for any human to handle.

“Hang in there, Mark,” he said, brightly. His voice echoed, a thin distant relay pattering back to them through the slow whirlpool of air. “Not much further.”

Mark forced his hands wordlessly through his hair, found a squashed fragment of delicate orange wing stuck somewhere over his ear, and flicked it away from him in disgust.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about the butterflies,” said Antonio. “Honestly, they’re usually pretty chill, I’ve never seen them just go for the eyes like that.”

Words weren’t evading Mark, but the ability to put more than two of them next to each other in a coherent sentence seemed to be. “That- the- why-” A struggle. “Why a horse??”

“It’s just a horse, Mark,” said Antonio, testing the railing before leaning his elbows on it, like a casual sightseer above Niagara Falls.

Mark clearly felt this wasn’t enough information. He made another struggle with his hands, shaping a sort of invisible sculpture on the theme of horror, bewilderment, and indignation, a shape that cut off sharply in the middle, and then squeezed both palms into his eyesockets, speaking indistinctly through his fingers.

“Just a- just- where’s the rest of it??”

“Do you think that’s really an important question right now?” asked Antonio. He meant it as a reasonable, honest query, but Mark only fixed him with a baleful eye through the gap in his hands, and said nothing.

They moved on. Through the empty hallways, through Jared’s dead zones, through a scorched and blackened sector where quite a mess had been made and the cameras still hung obliterated from the walls, Mark stayed silent. To Antonio, there was something puzzling- increasingly worrying- about this measured silence, and he didn’t think it was just the influence of his own quietly screaming nerves. He was good at reading Mark, even when he was at his most impenetrable, and he recognised this feeling of grim, plodding pertinacity that was coming off him in waves. This was Mark doing something he didn’t want to do- something he knew had no good object, no good ending- something he knew had to be done, regardless. He might as well have been making a video reading hate-comments, or cutting up raw liver, or any other uncongenial, unrewarding task demanded of him by the Muse. He looked as sullen and morose as ever, trailing along after Antonio as they travelled slowly through the safer zones of the HR Department. The nearest he got to an energetic reaction to anything on their long walk was a slight flinch and glance back as they heard the dogs pass distantly down a blind turning, the heavy patter of claws, the hungry, cheated howls.

Finally, the Long Egress. Jared had explained, in the vague way in which Jared tended to explain anything, that this seemingly endless grey concrete tunnel had been put in place as a sort of evacuation line, a last-ditch way back to the outside world. Walking it, Antonio wondered if the original architect might have planned on using it themselves, since it was quite clear that nobody else ever had. Whoever had designed the vast building that housed HR, if they had been human, it was a fairly safe assumption to make that they hadn’t done it entirely of their own free will.

It’s best to avoid asking questions or looking at things you aren’t authorised to see.

The bulkhead lights set into the walls every hundred yards or so created pale dim pools of light like so many oases, leading them from one to the next, all the way down the long last straight. Down here, even the lights were caged.

It’s all in my head, and I shouldn’t worry about it.

Antonio felt that they had been walking for years by the time they reached the end. His shoes had run out of moisture and left no prints on the scratchy poured concrete. Every step he took felt leaden, a further pull away from something dragging gently at him, something hooked into his heart-roots, difficult to ignore. They had been walking in silence, the only sounds the scrape and echo of their steps, the thick electric hum of the lights, a quieter low static buzz that seemed to live in the walls, and Mark’s difficult breathing and occasional hitching cough. Antonio didn’t mind these noises, as it made it easy for him to know that Mark was still behind him.

No ceremony, no fanfare, just a flat final wall that grew slowly from a pale dot to a short grey oblong as they walked towards it, a last pool of light, the long hallway terminating in a single pale grey door. Someone with a sense of humour had screwed a sign to it, an ordinary industrial yellow-and-black safety sign that read DANGER – KEEP OUT. Someone else had scrawled underneath; IT’S SCARY OUT THERE.

Antonio put a hand on the door, which had a thick push-bar, wreathed in old cobwebs and cranky with disuse. He looked back, and saw that Mark had stopped a little way back along the hallway and was just standing there in the last-but-one pool of light, looking at him.

“Mark? This is it, buddy, come on.”

Mark coughed, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and didn’t move.

“Mark?” Antonio stepped away from the door. As he moved towards Mark, Mark stepped back, mirroring him. He put a hand to the strap of his backpack, gripping it like a rosary, and suddenly Antonio felt a cold and eerie twinge of deja vu, of a week ago, of standing in the soft-lit hallway with Be Joyful Always, Pray Continually over his head as Mark begged him in a quiet, frantic monotone, pleaded, promised anything for his freedom.

I've done everything you've asked. You can have my channel, my house... just let me go.

Just now, it looked as if nothing could have been further from Mark’s mind.

“You must think I’m pretty fucking stupid,” he said.

Antonio stopped. The bug in his middle, which had been quiet for a time, stirred restlessly as he looked across the distance between them into Mark’s sharp, careworn face.

“So what is it?” Mark put out a hand and rested it against the concrete wall, either to take some of his weight or to reassure himself it was there. The flat light cast stark double-shadows, Antonio’s own falling across the door at his back and stretching down the hallway towards Mark, Mark’s slanting away as if it was shrinking from his. “What’s the trick? Because this whole ‘super secret escape’ thing is getting really old now. Maybe I’d have fallen for it when I was five but if you think I believe you’re just going to let me walk out of here, that sludge in your head must be way past expiry.”

“Mark, you have to trust me,” said Antonio. “I’m- I’m just trying to help you.”

Mark blinked a couple of times, grinned at him, in the same way skulls grinned, nothing behind it but a vacant stretch of teeth. Whether Antonio had struck a nerve, or Mark had just reached some internal breaking point, he dropped his hand from the wall and started walking forwards.

“Trust you. Trust you? You, and that- that thing in my basement- my muse-”

The sheer amount of pure spitting venom he managed to inject into one syllable was astonishing.

“-you’re the same. You’re the same thing, you’re just a- a part of that fucking blob that can walk around and look like a person. I knew that as soon as you first showed up- you think I’m going to trust you now?” He stopped, almost face to face with Antonio, his fear and aversion and bitter anger struggling with each other in his face, his hands curled around his backpack in front of him as if it was a shield.

“Mark, I- I’ve felt- I’ve been-”

Now it was Antonio’s turn to struggle. His chest was crawling, the heat in his face and hands rising, the difficulty squirming under his skin pushing him not to shut Mark up or stop him being a problem but to explain, to try to dispel the terrible disdain in Mark’s eyes. He stumbled on, aware his voice sounded choked and strange, terribly afraid to keep going but far, far more afraid to stop.

“When you were gone, I… I started to feel... different. I’ve been feeling... really weird. Mark, I have… thoughts that don’t make sense- sometimes I don’t want things to happen even though I know I should, I don’t want to do things I know I have to do- I think there’s something wrong with me. No, I- I know there is.” He held out his hands, open, pleading. “I don’t know what happened, but I- I know somehow, it started because of you.”

He swallowed.

“I’m different, I’m different to how I was, because of you. And I want to- I want to be a good friend, Mark. I’m doing this because I… I want to help you.”

“Bullshit,” said Mark.

Oh, it felt cold, it felt freezing cold in his guts and it hurt, and maybe this was how come humans could hurt each other so easily, that Mark could take every honest, vulnerable word he’d pulled painstakingly out of the core of him, these fragile little things ripped out of their shell new and raw and utterly defenceless, and hurl them so easily right back in his face. Antonio felt them start to shrivel and die in the chasm between them, but he kept quiet and just looked at Mark, who was knotting his fists in the fabric of his backpack, his jaw set hard, mouth slightly open, eyes hot and full of contempt.

“Mark,” he tried, “please, you have to-“

“No, I don’t. I actually fucking don’t, I don’t have to do anything. I don’t have to believe a single word you say. I listened to you for a year. I let you manipulate me, I danced like your fucking puppet, I did everything you wanted, for a year. I let-” He bit the word off.

“Mark, I haven’t even known you for a y-“

“Shut up,” said Mark, his voice deadly and as flat as the lights. “You can’t hurt me anymore. Not with my- my mom, not with-” He stopped himself again, his mouth working. “There’s nothing left, the only thing you have on me is this- this shit inside of me, this-” He let the pack dangle to the bruised fold of his elbow and held out his arms, wordless, the flat bulkhead light ghastly on his darkened veins, the black splatters of the dog’s blood and his own still staining the front of his ruined sweater. “This- this infection, this mold, I- I can feel it, I hear it in my head-” He shuddered, furiously, helplessly. “If- if you wanted to help me you’d get rid of it but you won’t, you won’t because the only thing you want is to keep me, keep stringing me along for whatever sick fucking plan-”

“Okay, but I’d need to touch you.”

“-shut up- whatever sick- whatever-” Mark seemed to hit a kind of a glitch, sticking like a scratched-up record and stopping in place. He blinked a little volley of dazed blinks, a rapid-fire Morse code message of utter confusion. “What?”

“Here,” said Antonio, holding out his hands. “I think I can do it, at least I can try. It’s just, you told me not to touch you.”

Mark stared at him in disbelief, his hands falling to his sides. He looked poleaxed. The backpack slipped gently down his arm, dropping to the ground at his feet, but he made no sign he even noticed.

“And you listened??”

For the first time, Antonio saw with stark clarity the shape of himself as he must have appeared to Mark through the past almost-year. A looming shadow, a threatening, suffocating, hounding, malicious, grinning thing that never rested and never relented, if the deal Mark had made with his Muse was a poisoned spring, Antonio had been the hand forcing him under the rank surface, forcing him to drink until he drowned.

Months too late, without words to even form the idea, he was desperately sorry. The thing in his chest- bug, alien, sickness or mistake- it was his, his guilt, his to fight and deny or accept, and for once, the choice was his own.

“I know I don’t have any right to ask you to trust me.” He kept holding out his hands, palms up, looking into Mark’s face where incredulity was fighting a pitched battle with something else, something Antonio wasn’t sure he’d ever seen there before.

“Please, Mark,” he said, quietly. “Just let me try.”

The lights hummed, the walls buzzed. Mark stood still in silence for so long that Antonio started to wonder if he’d frozen again, but at last he started to move. There was no great change in his expression, no lessening of the fear in his eyes or the clear mistrust in the thin downwards line of his mouth. As he moved, it seemed to be in spite of himself than out of any thinking, reasoning decision.

Slowly, without looking away from Antonio’s face, Mark lifted his hand and reached out.

#muse arg #dftm #don't feed the muse #mark mayhew #antonio geist #alex bale #jared the IT guy #my writing #the cynical critic #this part kicked my ass

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friedfisha · 9 months

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Fish get car details under the cut!! Just wanted to talk about it a bit

Summary of events: car broke last year, dad said he'd fix it, I recently learned he didn't plan on touching it for another 6+ months (lol), need one if I want a job & decided to dip into savings to get one, found my dream car and got it at an insane discount with unbelievably low miles The good: -I payed waaaay less than expected (seller was incredibly nice & accepted my lowball starting offer) -My bro fixes these cars professionally & has offered to take care of the repairs (nothing major, just some standard upgrades) -He'll paint the engine funny colors :3 I'm thinking orange+teal The bad: -Sucked up nearly all my moving funds -Needs new tires, which are pretty expensive. While I did save a bunch of $$ in the sale price I'd like to raise these funds separately SO gonna try ramping up art in these coming weeks, maybe do a big adopt drop or something. Also now that I can get to the post office, ummm merch perhaps 👀 really wanna turn my last finfin piece into stickers...

#fishatalks #yay yippeee yay

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rogueddie · 1 year

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Omg!!! 21 tattoos!! That's amazing I'm so jealous and so happy for you at the same time. I've also watched waaaay too many tattoo tours but it's just so cool and fun and easy way to obsess over tattoos and I'm happy I'm not the only one doing that. I'm curious, do you have a preferred style? Like, neo-traditional, old school, blackwork, fine-line, realistic, sketch (that's not an official style, I think, that's just what I call tattoos that take on a more drawing-like look because I don't know if it has a name) etc. Or are you someone who doesn't look at styles but just focus on the tattoo you're going to get?

When I got my first tattoo I preferred fine-line and sketch-like styles (That look like drawings) and I didn't really care about or looked into the specific styles, I just picked the tattoo shop from reviews and the way I liked their website was presented. But now, 5 years after my first one I actually really really love old school and neo-traditional (Which is funny because I couldn't stand old school 5 years ago and now I'm in love with it, though I haven't got a tattoo in that style yet)

The leg Hermes staff tattoo you described sounds so cool!

Yes! You can ask about my tattoos. As I said, I only have 4 which is a major bummer. The first one I got is just the word "Hope" written in cursive, nestled in one side of my hip where I cut myself for a period of time. When I turned 18 I'd just come out of a really rough time of my life, a really hard year where I relapsed on self-harm, so when I managed to stop again and I started feeling better, I got the word Hope as my first tattoo because it felt right and as something to hold onto if things went bad again (I'd been thinking about getting a tattoo since I was 16). The word was made too small though so it doesn't really look that nice anymore. But that's okay, I don't need it for the purpose I got it for anymore

I have a gymnastics pose in fine-line on my upper arm. The lines all look like they were drawn in one continuous, never-ending line so there are a lot of swoops. Like a drawing in cursive, if you can describe it like that. Then I have a typewriter on my forearm, which I got made last August. And my latest one, which was made through several sessions throughout september-november-december is a Phoenix half-sleeve. It ends by my elbow where there's a peony (directly on top of my elbow, which was a fun experience). It's absolutely my favourite one. It's big and cool and epic. Made in Japanese style. It's basically an homage to my identity as a trans and nonbinary person. I call him Felix (phelix, if I'm feeling punny). I felt like he ought to have a name since he's a creature. And it's a he/him even though hes a representation of my trans identity and my gender identity is 100% agender (no gender, none whatsoever). I hope to get the half-sleeve into a full sleeve sometime in the future

- tattoo anon 🦇

I think the only preference I really have is for the patchwork sleeve look. I do try to keep things consistent though; my left arm and leg are all traditional/neo-traditional, but my right arm is a little chaotic, less tattoo style and more aesthetic (mostly solid blackwork).

The Hermes staff tatt is definitely a cooler than I can make it sound, it's the best idea I've ever came up with and my artist made it even better. It's based on the version of the myth where Hermes finds two snakes fighting and stops them by putting his staff between them.

Your tattoos sound really cool! Especially the phoenix, that sounds SO good! And the gymnast one too; I know exactly what you mean by a drawing in cursive, they always look beautiful.

#ask

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agena87 · 1 year

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1,2,3 pls

(beware, I wrote a full novel here XD)

You know what, I'll answer those not for one, not for two or even three characters, bur for FOUR: Simon, Seamus, Karl, and Agena because I have a looooot of background stuff to share about those four AND BECAUSE I CAN (and I KNOW that Seamus and Karl are, for now, just characters I introduced in renders, but I actually have stuff with them in my never-ending folder of screenshots to edit/post)(which I need to do soon).

How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have? *Simon: He HATES his father who's a bigot, a narcissist, a tyrant, and an all-around shitty person. All of his life, his father controlled every aspect of his life: who he could be friend with, what he should study, who to date, how to dress, EVERYTHING. It made him very self-conscious and was always making sure he was doing what was "right" growing up, which led to poor-self esteem later on, and a bit of paranoia (it got better in the last few years). It made him rather permissive with the people he loves, too, scared that he would turn into a control-freak like his father if he tries to exerts any kind of authority. *Seamus: They like to pretend to that their father doesn't exist, which was it felt like when they were younger, since the man was always travelling for work (that's what they call "having multiple mistresses/lovers to take care off while ignoring your family" in this household). Since Oswald (for it's their father's name) was never around, he didn't really have any influence on Seamus. *Karl: Finally a good father! Karl loves his father, who always was here for his children. His main influence on Karl is his open-mindedness. *Agena: Her father, Alfred, died when she was two, so she doesn't have any memories of him, and no influence on her. As for Seamus who raised her after that, she loves them. They mainly influenced her in the fact that you ALWAYS stick with your family/friends, that loyalty is the best quality to have.

Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have? *Simon: He hates her only a little less than he does his father, mainly because she was too drunk to do or say anything to him most of the time. In her defence, she was her husband's tyranny first victim (but it doesn't excuse the fact that she never defended/helped Simon). She was an ever-present and yet absent mother. Because of her addiction, he swore to never touch a drop of alcohol, and he never did. *Seamus: Hate is not a strong enough word to describe what they feel about their mother, Wendolyn. Maybe "loathes" is? Wendolyn was very abusive, both verbally and physically, especially with Seamus, who she despises. She spent years calling them names because of the way they decided to present themself, using the f-slur on a daily basis since they were about eight. She beat them for as long as they remember, and tried to send them to conversion camp when they were sixteen, which caused them to left home and never come back. Because of her, they can't handle people screaming. (She also is the shittiest person on the planet, since she actually is the one who paid someone to kill Alfred, her own brother). *Karl: Just like with his father, he loves his mother, even if she is a bit over-protective and waaaay too invested in her children's lives. From her, he learned to always help those in need. *Agena: This is a weird relationship that Agena and Carol have. Carol, who was rather young - but it's not an excuse - when she got pregnant with Agena, abandoned her as soon as she was born. She got spooked because of [REDACTED] regarding Alfred - not something bad, mind - and left him. It was only after she discovered her pregnancy. She actually thought of aborting, since she was scared that the [REDACTED] thingy would affect her baby, but after talking with Alfred, she accepted to keep it if her ex-boyfriend accepted to raise the kid himself, which he was more than happy to do. Then, when Agena was 13/14, she contacted her daughter, after her other daughter, Tabitha showed signs of [REDACTED] and her mother, Alaria, told her it was something present in their family too. Alaria never knew why Carol got rid of her newborn (nor she knew who the father was) until then, but it turns out that she knew Alfred's family, and after a bit of investigation, found that he was dead and that Agena was living with Seamus. Feeling guilty how she treated her daughter, Carol wrote to her to explain why she left her, and try to make amends. It took several years, but they finally met, and are now in somewhat frequent contact, even if their relationship is still a bit difficult.

Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings? *Simon: He has five older brothers and two older sisters. He dislikes them all, for they all are too much like their father, all about appearance and status. *Seamus: One younger brother, Reginald. As kids, they were the best of friends, but comes adolescence, they grew appart (mainly caused by Wendolyn). But in the last few years, they grew close once again. Well, when Reginald is not disappearing God knows where (he is very troubled and flees quite frequently). What they like about Reginald, is that they finally learned to stop listening to Wendolyn; what they don't like, is that they don't listen to anyone, even when people are trying to help him get better. *Karl: He has an older brother, Willi, and two younger brothers, Pertti and Reinhold. He loves all three of them (really, this family is a loving-one). What he likes about them: -Willi: his devil-may-care attitude -Pertti: his ambition and drive to reach his goals -Reinhold: his loyalty What he dislikes about them: -Willi: his stubborness (though he is just as stubborn, so he can't really say judge) -Pertti: his Lothario's ways (well, he actually doesn't care that he has relationships after relationships, but when it caused Willi and his wife to divorce because he had an affair with their sister-in-law and got her pregnant, well…) -Reinhold: his temper (once again, he's just as bad, so… kettle, cauldron). *Agena: She has a biological half-sister, Tabitha (which, yeah, not a scoop), and an adopted sorta-sister, Denebola ("sorta-sister" as in, they're not actually related other than as cousins legally - she is Seamus and Karl's daughter - but since Seamus is like a parent to her, she considers Denebola her sister). Both are a lot younger than her. She loves Tabitha, but their relationship can sometimes be a bit difficult due to the fact that Agena - even if she won't confess to it - is jealous that Tabitha was raised by their mother. As for Denebola, she's still a toddler, so it's impossible to not love her. She likes Tabitha's strong personality and Denebola's hugs, but she dislikes Tabitha's foul language (and bad influence on Alfie) and Denebola aggressivity.

Pfeeew, it was a lot (why did I decide to choose so many characters?).

#answer to ask #Anonymous #thank you nonnie #extra: all that we are and will never be

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cuteciboulette · 2 years

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So, I broke my cell phone a couple of weeks ago. (Let me insert here a small rant because it jumped from my hands, not for the first time, but fall on a straw doormat. HOW it is THAT’s what took the screen out when it had fallen on hard wood floors countless times before??) So anyway, yeah, phone is done for. I kiiiinda still use it but the screen basically remains black so when people call me (which doesn’t happen that often, granted), I can pick up only because I know where to put my fingers. When I get a text (waaaay more often) or want to use the phone, it take about 6 to 10 tries to have the screen light up. (It also tends to cut off conversations after a few minutes). (Funny thing is, if I take a screen capture, the screen looks perfectly fine.)

I don’t know what to do. On one hand, repairing it will cost me 300€ (1€ is about $1), because Samsung Galaxy S8 are made like that. Changing the screen is replacing half the phone. So I’m like: NO WAY! On the other way, if I replace it, I want something about the same size that isn’t an iPhone (I like MacBooks alright but not iPhone, it’s a thing ^^; ), it will cost me about 600€. A few things to know about me: - I don’t like to change my electronic devices. I will soon need to replace my MacBook, I was symbolically wanting at least till next January to celebrate its 10 birthday. I had to tape the cord in September because the protective layer is broken. - I don’t like to rush replacing things. I’ve been thinking about replacing the laptop more or less for a year. Which means I would probably get to actually do it in one or two more years ^^; - I WASN’T PLANNING ON REPLACING MY FRICKING PHONE FOR ABOUT 5 YEARS OR SO. (The last one, I replaced it because the battery swell and imploded. I still took me about 1 year to actually replace it, I replace the battery first, it imploded again after a few months...)

But: - I CANNOT wait to replace this fricking phone, the past 2 weeks have been super annoying. Basically everything I do online requires to confirm my identify with my phone. Texting is super annoying. Calling/receiving calls is very difficult. So I HAVE to rush a decision. - A new one would cost me 600€ only because of the “Black Friday” sales I only have a week to decide yes or nay. A week! aaaah! - Technically 300€ is better than 600€ and I can afford both, it’s really about the principle of things. I don’t want to change my phone. It annoys me to pay that much not to even get a new one. - You can’t add an additional storage card in the new one, which is also annoying, so the new phone would have as much space that the current one, this is ridiculous, why did they do that? (that also the case about the previous version, BTW.) - ... ... ... the new one would be purple and super super pretty... This is stupid. Paying 300€ more than a repair because of the color of a phone is ridiculous. Paying that much for a repair is ridiculous. A week to decide. (Assuming that there is enough stock in purple.) Aaaaaaarrrrg.

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burningexeter · 4 months

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Here's a whole headcanon shared universe that a good friend of mine, Screenplay Archaeology, did or came up with about two years with the link to it right here....

https://x.com/screenplayarch6/status/1547392174458798085?s=20

It's something that as you can see I've taken a loooot of influence from, in fact when I did that Venture Bros. headcanon shared universe it was the only influence for it in how it was structured and put together especially with the chronological timeline while at the same time I made it all my own which you can see for yourself here....

Now however with all of that said, I came up with something else on my own and it's for fun an expansion on Screenplay's shared universe. Not just to help bring more to it without overdoing it but also help add just a little bit more to the universe than you already think. I'm doing this on my own yet as far as I'm concerned, I just wanna be a fun friend even if it seems odd to others.

If you read the last four parts of the thread than you'll see the overall heroic theme that Screenplay went for so I'm using that as the basis and as the jumping off point:

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• Far Cry Primal (2016)

The Iron Man of this universe, the one that started it all.

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• Wolfwalkers

Coming right after Solomon Kane (2009) and easy before The Last Of The Mohicans (1992).

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• The Pirates Of The Caribbean Trilogy

Coming right after Wolfwalkers and still before The Last Of The Mohicans (1992).

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• The Red Dead Redemption Duology

Right after The Dollars Trilogy but just before Deathwatch (2002).

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• Inglourious Basterds

The cap-off to the WWII saga after Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Where Eagles Dare and Overlord (2018) with the Adolf Hitler in Last Crusade being the same, less desperate Hitler in Inglourious Basterds.

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• The Nice Guys

Coming right after The Exorcist and Exorcist III: Legion but coming right before Thief (1981).

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• Runaway Train

Coming some time after Thief (1981) but waaaay before Heat (1995).

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• Big Trouble In Little China

Coming immediately after Runaway Train but still waaaay before Heat (1995).

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• Tales From The Crypt Presents Demon Knight

Coming some time after Big Trouble In Little China but just right before Heat (1995).

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• From Dusk Till Dawn

Coming immediately after Heat (1995).

To be continued on a reblog....

#Youtube

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exhibitphotopdx · 1 year

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Mexico and a Beach

Monterey Bay at low tide releases hundreds of years of decay. Fish eating other fish and pieces eaten by crabs and all of it mixing with oxygen to surrender their scent to the ocean breeze.

Driving north of Santa Cruz through pumpkin country on the coast road. Another forgotten coastline though so close to The City as to be within lunch break distance. As Portland labors under a winter storm flowers bloom here and young Mexican couples take selfies in the flowing yellow sea. I was reminded of another coast road a thousand miles away, much further south and lost to the past, of winding turns and sparkling blue-green shallow bays. Holly and Dana had been alternating between singing and snacking in the back seat of our 4WD while Edmund and I held down the beers and conversation up front. As we rounded a bluff, a particularly fetching half moon of sand opened below us — a pickup truck with a huge camper shell the only inhabitant under a copse of palms at the south end and an empty campsite at the north end beckoning. I hadn’t seen any kind of pullout or road but slowed a bit to scan the hillside. “There” said Edmund, tracing a zigging line down the south end of the cliff. On either side of the beach steep cliffs pushed into the water and fell at least 150’ into blue. I kept an eye out for anything else but as we got to the southern curve there was a dirt pullout and a rough road leading off the edge of the cliff. I kept some speed as I pulled off — these tight corners often produced a speeding bus or truck — and so hit the first drop at about 25mph, which was WAAAAY too fast. The drop combined with a fast lefthand turn to hug the cliff face and we all lost contact with gravity for a moment before the SUV slammed back down. I’m pretty sure I hit the ceiling twice and the noise of the cooking and camping cases loosely netted to the roof rack was deafening. The girls began screaming. I would have screamed, too, had I not been completely absorbed in the task at hand. The “road” spun itself against the cliff at a remarkable angle and several immediate washouts had me trying to launch a tire off the last outcrop and up onto the even-steeper angle of the cliff to get us around them. Braking was impossible — the loose dirt would slide us forward with no control. So I gassed it and felt the drivers-side lift impossibly high. I hoped the cargo net would hold — I hadn’t packed it for this and could imagine all our equipment strewn down the hillside for hundreds of yards.

Below the washouts, the road evened out slightly, seeming much more stable. I managed to grind the brakes to a complete halt. Something felt like a broken tooth at the end of the pedal. My head hurt from contact with the ceiling. The girls were still screaming. I took a deep breath and turned in the seat. “That is NOT helping. If anybody wants to try the rest of this, I’ll get out right now. No? Then shut up. If YOU want to get out, I’m fine with that, too. But I think I see the way down from here.” Edmund brushed beer off himself and took a long drink. His slightly-tan English skin had gone back to a normal deathly white. The girls gulped but quieted. I took another deep breath. Letting off the brake, I started picking my way down the remaining 100’ or so of vertical. There were at least two weird sounds coming out of the truck but nothing was exploding and I felt like the first thing to do was get down. At the pickup truck, two campers had emerged and were clutching each others arms and pointing in amazement. There were a few sliding skidding stops but the rest of the path was less dramatic than the first 50’ and in 15 minutes we were parked under the palms at the north end of the beach. The other campers walked up to join us. They brought me a cold beer. “Sorry we don’t have enough for everyone but we figured the driver could use it.” Looking back at the cliff and tracing our path it looked totally improbable from below. I wasn’t sure I could make it back UP and the remains of a VW Bug covered with cactus seemed to augur poorly.

“How, exactly, did you get a top-heavy pickup in here?” was the question on my mind. They grinned. Low tide. Drive around the bluff on hard-packed sand and take an easy beach road out.

We stayed nearly a week. Camping chairs thrown nipple deep in the warm shallows and tiny fish nibbling between our toes while we drank cold Corona and cooked over a beach fire. At night the water was no less warm but gained luminescence and we marveled at the trails we left to mark our passages.

#beach #secretbeach #vacation #nudeart #storytime #funfunfun

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