#with so much freedom ahead of me

[rosicheeks]

.

[azaracyy]

one of my finished ych commissions. other finished artwork can be found here. the tailmon is based on the twitter meme / trend of tailmon with pikachu build

[sunnnfish]

“If you just do everything you’re supposed to do you’ll eventually end up where you need to be.” Infinity train book 4 you fuck me up so bad still. “You can mess up even if you stand still…” MIN-GI PARK…..

[fitzrove]

jfkfkdkddk i just realised it's gonna take me a couple months to release my video essay so maybe i'll just blurt out some of my tanz der vampire hot takes now

- ALFRED IS THE MAIN CHARACTER come on you guys,,, you can like and be interested in other characters but it's a problem when the show itself doesn't remember how it was written. The very structure of the show (music, dialogue, plot, scenes) rebels against trying to change this and productions that push him aside just end up jumbled and messy. It's literally a main reason Kunze hated Broadway Tanz

- tied to this, so many people view carpe noctem as this "haha weird random nightmare dance number, guess it was added to pad the runtime" like no... that is literally a way for the show to metaphorically recap and further develop the central themes of the show to the audience at the beginning of act 2... open your eyes...

- I'll take Kunze's "tdv is a musical symbolizing the fall of the berlin wall" (true take of his) over "a longterm relationship with krolock is the ultimate way for sarah to liberate herself" any day. 😭

[vespertine-legacy]

Ok, but like. The agent's Nar Shaddaa mission had to have been about 80% unsanctioned, right? Like, yeah, go find out about and dismantle any terror cell on Nar Shaddaa, by whatever means you deem best, yes. But the means being "collaborate with a former Watcher who so deeply traumatized the rest of the Agency that they can't even talk about what happened but they thank you if you kill him" can't have been like. "plan a."

[cuteniaarts]

First art post of 2023, starting off with an old art redraw

Back in Autumn 2021 (has it really been that long...) I started watching Magnificent Century with my mom, and after finishing the first season I really wanted to draw one of my favourite characters, Viktoria/Sadika. Whether or not I succeeded is... questionable. The art is still up, but I’m not the biggest fan of it. IMO, she looks more like Hatice than Viktoria, but eh, that’s why we’re here

Behold, my updated art of Viktoria’s last scene in the show, utilising my anatomy-based art classes, staying more true to the original screenshot, and completely disregarding my art teacher telling me to stop painting on one layer:

Reference:

[milo-is-rambling]

Trying to plan a road-trip for yourself when you when a deadline for when you have to be at the end destination but you get to make the entire plan to actually get there is the worst ever actually

[noxtivagus]

i'll succeed with everything. definitely.

[hedgebotherer]

More Good Omens nonsense ahead!

So, I've read a lot of theories that Crowley must have been some chief bigwig as an angel because he knew a (presumably) restricted heavenly password.

But consider who he is as a demon. He's not a duke or lord of hell, but he's got more sway than demons like Furfur (and not just because that's how he walks). He's acquired the maximum amount of freedom he can get with the minimum amount of responsibility.

I could see him being the same kind of angel, assuming he remained an angel for some time after the opening scene of Good Omens 2. Once the shine wore off and he realised he was powerless to change things, he could have just loitered within the perimeter of power without the inconvenience of being seen as powerful. I can see him as the angelic equivalent of somebody from the IT department who managed to procure a lot of very sensitive company secrets simply because nobody thought about him enough to restrict him properly. A little bit of 'Tell you what, give me the password and I can finish that for you. No, no, it's no bother at all. Off you trot!' here and there just to hoard for himself some semblance of power without having to do very much. Or maybe he just got a taste for manipulation early on and decided he liked it. Then if the rebel angels noticed his talents, the jig would have been up and he would have been steamrolled into siding with them even if he had no interest whatsoever in joining a war.

So, yeah, I'm not ready to presume he was a heavenly Higher Up. He could have just been a bit of a sneaky snake back then too.

[bixels]

Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).

I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.

Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.

Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.

So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.

Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.

Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.

I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)

Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.

That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam! Since it's currently AO3 donation time, I'm wondering what your thoughts are on it? I'm asking because you've written RPF and it's one of many "anti-AO3/anti-AO3 donations" people's favourite things to bring up when they're complaining about AO3 getting so many donations that it continuously obtains an excess of its donation goal whenever donation time rolls around? (Wow, how many times can I say "donation" in an ask?) Sorry if this question bothers you! I don't mean to offend or annoy.

Hey anon! Sorry it took a while to get to this, I don't even know if the drive is still going on, but the question came in while I was traveling and I didn't really have the time for stuff that wasn't travel-related. In any case, let's dig in! (I am not offended, no worries.)

So really there are two issues here and as much as some people who are critical of AO3 want to conflate them, they are different. While some criticism of AO3 may be valid, rhetoric against AO3 tends to misinterpret both in separate ways.

First there's the issue of what AO3 hosts -- RPF, yes, but more broadly, varied content that some people find distasteful or think should be illegal, which is a misunderstanding of the purpose of the archive and more broadly a dangerous attitude towards the concept of freedom of expression.

Second, there's the issue of AO3 generally outpacing its fundraising goals while not allowing monetization, which is a misunderstanding of the legal status of AO3 and to an extent a misunderstanding of philanthropy as a whole.

The longer I watch debates about content go on, the more I come to the conclusion that I was fortunate to have a teacher who really wanted to instill in us an understanding of free speech not as a policy but as an ongoing dialogue. It's not only that freedom of expression "protects you from the government, not the Justin" as the meme goes, but also that freedom of expression is not a static thing. It's an ongoing process of identifying what we find harmful in society and what we want to do about it.

Should the freedom to shout "Fire!" in a crowded theater be restricted? Should the freedom to yell slurs at drag performers? Should the freedom to teach prepubescent kids about gender, sexuality, and/or safe sex? Should the freedom to wear a leather puppy hood at Pride? Who gets to say, and why?

I was nine when my teacher did a unit on freedom of speech and the intersection of "harm prevention" and "censorship", which is (and should be) a discussion, not a set of ironclad rules. This ambiguity has thus been with me for over thirty years, and I'm comfortable with the ambiguity, with the process; I'm not sure a lot of people critical of AO3's content truly are. Perhaps some can't be, especially those affected by hate speech, but RPF is not hate speech. It's just fiction. Or is fiction "just fiction"? This is a question society as a whole is grappling with, although fandom seems to be a little out ahead of society in terms of how explicitly we discuss it.

The idea that prose can incite violence or cause harm is both valid to examine (witness the rise of fascism on the radio in the 20s, on Facebook and Twitter in the past ten years; they're very similar processes) and a very slippery slope. Because again: who decides what harm is, and what causes it, and what we do about it? Our values align us with certain beliefs, but those are only our values, not universal truths. So AO3 is part of the ongoing question of harm and benefit both to society and individuals.

AO3 itself, however, has a fairly defined policy that it is not meant to police content; it is an archive, not a bookstore or a school board. AO3 refines its TOS and policies as necessary, but the goal is always open access and as much freedom of expression as possible, and if that's uncomfortable for some people then that's a discussion we have to have; ignoring it won't make it go away. But it has to be a discussion, it can't be a unilateral change to the archive's TOS or a series of snaps and clapbacks, and I don't see a lot of people ready to move beyond flinging insults. Perhaps because they were taught a much more binary view of freedom of expression than I was.

So, self-evidently, I support AO3 and I don't have a problem with RPF. Whether other people do is something we're going to have to get to grips with, and that's likely to be a process that is still going on when most of us are dust. I'd rather have a century of ambiguity than a wrong answer tomorrow, anyway.

But whether AO3 hosts RPF is truly a separate issue from its donation drives, because it's a criticism some people level at the site which exists whether it's fundraising or not. So people can criticize AO3's open policy and they can give it as a reason not to support the site, but it's just one aspect of the archive and the fundraising as a whole should be examined separately.

I think AO3's fundraisers are deeply misunderstood (sometimes on purpose) because even people who are anticapitalist get a little crazy when money gets involved, and this is, to fandom, a lot of money -- a few hundred thousand, reliably, every fundraiser. To me, a fundraiser that pulls in three hundred grand is almost quaint; my current nonprofit pulls in better than ten million a year and my previous employer had an endowment of several billion dollars. At my old job I didn't even bother researching people who couldn't give us a hundred grand.

On the other hand, AO3 is an extreme and astounding outlier in the nonprofit world, because basically it's the only one of its kind to work the way it does. It is entirely volunteer-run on the operational side (ie: tag wranglers, coders, lawyers, etc) and has no fundraising staff (gift officers, researchers, outreach officers) as far as I'm aware. To pull in three hundred grand from individual one-time donations, without any paid staff and without even a volunteer fundraising officer? That's insane. That doesn't happen. Except at AO3.

What people misunderstand, however, is the basic status of a nonprofit, which is a legal status, not simply a social one. (I'm adding in some corrections here since it gets complicated and the terminology can be important!) The Organization for Transformative Works, the parent of AO3, is a nonprofit, which indicates how it was incorporated as an organization; additionally it is registered federally as tax-exempt, which carries certain perks, like not paying sales tax, and certain duties, like making their financials transparent to a certain extent. (Religious nonprofits are exempt from the transparency requirement.) If you're interested in more about nonprofits and tax-exempt status a reader dropped a great article here.

Nonprofits, unlike for-profit companies, cannot pay a share of their income to stakeholders. Nonprofits don't have financial stakeholders, only donors. They can have employees and pay them a salary -- that's me, for example -- but if a nonprofit pulls in $10M in donations, my salary is paid from that, I don't get a percentage and nobody else does either. That's what it means to be a nonprofit -- the money above operational costs goes back into the organization. The donations we (and AO3) receive must be plowed under and used for outreach, server maintenance, further fundraising, services expansion, et cetera. You can see this in the 990 forms on Guidestar or ProPublica, or in their more accessible breakdowns on Charity Navigator. Nonprofits that do not put the majority of their income towards service provision tend to get audited and lose their nonprofit status. So nobody's getting paid from all that money, and the overage that isn't spent goes into what is basically a savings account in the name of the nonprofit. (I'm vastly simplifying but that's the gist.) Using that money for personal purposes is illegal. It's called "private inurement" and there's a good article here about it. The money belongs to the OTW as a concept, not to anyone in or of the OTW.

So the biggest misunderstanding that I see in people who are mad at AO3 fundraisers is that "they" are getting all this money (who "they" are is never clearly stated but I'm pretty sure people think @astolat has a special wifi router that runs on burning hundred dollar bills) while "we" can't monetize our fanfic. But "they" get nothing -- nobody even earns a salary from AO3 -- and you can easily prove that by looking at the 990 forms they file with the government, which are required to be made public. You can see the most recently available 990, from 2020, here at Guidestar. Page seven will show you the "highest compensated" employees, all of whom are earning zero dollars or nonmonetary perks (that's the three columns on the right).

Either AO3 is entirely volunteer-run or someone's Doing A Real Fraud. The money the OTW spends is documented (that's page 10 and 11 primarily) and while they may pay for, say, the travel and lodging expenses of a lawyer going to DC to defend a freedom-of-expression case, they don't pay the lawyer for their time, or give them a cut of the income.

Despite what you've read, the reason "we" can't monetize our fanfics on AO3 has nothing to do with the site being the product of volunteer handiwork or AO3 having it in their terms of service or it being considered gauche by some to do so; it's because

IT'S ILLEGAL.

I cannot say this loudly enough: It is against the law for a nonprofit to be used by its staff, volunteers, or beneficiaries to earn direct profit from the services provided by the nonprofit.

You can be paid to work at one, but you cannot side-hustle by selling your handmade friendship bracelets for personal gain on the nonprofit's website. If the nonprofit knowingly allows monetization of its services, it can lose nonprofit status, be fined, be hit with back taxes, and a lot of other unpleasant bullshit can go down, including prosecution of those involved for fraud. If you put a ko-fi link on your fanfic, you are breaking the law, and if AO3 allows it, they are too.

Okay, that was a sidebar, but in some ways not, because it gets to the heart of the real complaints about AO3 fundraising, which is that people in fandom are sick or unhoused or in some form of need and other people in fandom are giving to AO3, a fan site that is financially stable, instead of giving to peoples' gofundmes or dropping money in their Ko-Fi or Paypal. And while it is a legitimate grievance that there are people who are in such desperate need while we live in an era of unprecedented abundance, that's not AO3's fault. AO3 doesn't solicit actively, there's no unasked-for mailings or calls from a gift officer. They just put a banner up on their website, and people give. (Again, this is incredibly outlier behavior in the nonprofit world, I'd do a case study on it but the conclusion would just be "shit's real, yo.") You might as well be mad that people give to their local food bank instead of someone's ko-fi.

You cannot lay at AO3's feet the fact that people want to give to AO3 instead of to your fundraiser. That's a choice individuals have made, and while you can engage with them in terms of why they made the philanthropic choices they did, to blame an organization they supported rather than the person who made the choice to give is not only incorrect but futile, and unlikely to win anyone over to supporting you. We know from research that guilt is not a tremendous motivator of philanthropy.

It is also not necessarily a binary choice; just because AO3 gets a hundred grand in $5 donations doesn't mean most of the people giving don't also give $5 elsewhere. I support the OTW on occasion, and I also fundraise for UNICEF and the Chicago Parks Foundation and BAGLY and others, in addition to giving monthly to several nonprofits that I have longterm relationships with -- my alma mater, the animal rescue where I got the Cryptids, my shul. And I give, occasionally and anonymously, to fundraisers that pass through Radio Free Monday, which are mainly individuals in need, because I was once in need and now I pay it forward. These are the choices I have made. Nobody twisted my arm. I respond poorly to someone making the attempt to do so by attacking places I've given.

I think the upshot is, after all of this that I've written, that we cannot begin to come to grips with questions of institutional inequality in philanthropy, or freedom of expression and censorship, until people actually understand what's going on, and too few do. So all I can do is try and explain, and hopefully create a forum for people to learn and grow when it comes to charitable giving.

Archive Of Our Own and the Organization for Transformative Works are products of our community and as that community changes, we will necessarily continue to re-evaluate what aspects of it mean and how AO3/OTW express the community sentiment. I hope that the ongoing discussion of support for AO3 also leads to people learning more about their philanthropic options. But criticizing AO3 for fundraising by attacking it for fulfilling one of its stated purposes is silly, and attempting to guilt people into giving in the ways one thinks they should give rather than how they do give is just going to make one extremely unlikable.

As members of this community, we have to be a part of the push and pull, but it's difficult to do that competently in ignorance. So, I do my best to be knowledgeable and to educate my readers, and I hope others will do the same.

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑨𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑭𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑺 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

GENERAL ❛  run! i'll hold them off for as long as i can.  ❜ ❛  i can buy you some time. go, now!  ❜ ❛  i cause this, and i'll be the one to fix it. no matter the cost.  ❜ ❛  it's the only way!  ❜ ❛  no matter what it takes, i won't let anything happen to you.  ❜ ❛  i need to make this right. this is my only chance.  ❜ ❛  i'll go through this so we have a chance. it's a risk worth taking.  ❜ ❛  you're more important than me. so let me do this to save you.  ❜ ❛  putting your needs ahead of mine is the only way i know.  ❜ ❛  can't you see i'm trying to save you?  ❜ ❛  i'll promise to keep you safe for as long as i can.  ❜ ❛  you know i'd jump in front of a bullet for you, right?  ❜ ❛  there are some people worth dying for ...  ❜ ❛  i trusted you with everything, and this is how you repay me?  ❜ ❛  i promise, i'm gonna do everything in my power to protect you.  ❜ ❛  i'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove my worth to you.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to sacrifice yourself for me. we're in this together.  ❜ ❛  are you sure you want to give up your only chance at freedom?  ❜ ❛  go! i'm not sure how much longer i can hold on ...  ❜ ❛  forget about me and save yourself. please.  ❜

LOVE / RELATIONSHIPS ❛  i love you, but you deserve better than what i can offer.  ❜ ❛  your happiness means more to me than my own.  ❜ ❛  i have to let you go, even if it breaks my heart.  ❜ ❛  i'll support your dreams, even if it means letting go of mine.  ❜ ❛  if this is truly what you need, i'll go.  ❜ ❛  you're worth waiting for. no matter how long it takes until you come back.  ❜ ❛  this is going against everything i stand for, but i'll do it for you.  ❜ ❛  you will always have my unwavering support.  ❜ ❛  your smile is worth the sacrifices i'm willing to make.  ❜ ❛  sometimes, there are more important things than me. you, for example.  ❜ ❛  i will always love you, but we're not good for one another. so i'm letting you go.  ❜ ❛  you deserve to find happiness with someone who isn't as destructive as me.  ❜ ❛  you will always be my first choice, but i know i'll never be yours, and that's okay.  ❜ ❛  no matter what happens, you will always hold a special place in my heart.  ❜ ❛  i'm gonna do whatever it takes to make you smile again.  ❜ ❛  you make me wanna be better. you make me wanna be good.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to sacrifice your dreams just to fulfill mine.  ❜ ❛  if you don't want to be with me anymore, just say so and go.  ❜ ❛  i won't let you make any more decisions for me!  ❜ ❛  remember, i'm doing this because i love you.  ❜

[heartfullofleeches]

What if...... Bunny reader is dwarf bunny...... Then you have giant Fletcher....... But. But hear me out. Bunny reader is the one that dominates fetch in the bedroom

Folks are surprised, and a lil concerned, when the tiniest bunny they know winds up marrying what has to be the biggest rabbit this town has ever seen. Fletcher has some worries of his own, but he tries to be less vocal about them. He loves his cuddle bunny with all his heart and soul - that's the whole and honest reason he's hesitant to bed with the them.

"You know I'd love to, Darlin'. It's just that you're so small compared to me. I don't wanna accidentally hurt you when we...."

Fletcher claws at his neck, heat reaching his ears as he timidly trails off. "You know...."

"Aww, don't be like that, Fetch. You and I both know you'd never hurt a fly. We'll be married soon. We've already had some fun together - I'd like to know what to expect for our lives together. Besides, I thought you said you thought my height was cute-"

He did. Everytime you complained about not being able to reach something in his house or how people always look down upon you for your size, Fletcher was quick to carry you off your feet and tell you all the things he loved about you and your height. It's also true that you've had some experimentation prior to his proposal. He only ever used his fingers or mouth before then - terrified of what might happen if he gave into temptation. You're a stubborn creature. Always teasing him despite his fears. Yet another tally to the endless list of reasons he loves you so damn much.

"You know, if you're that afraid - I could always be the one on top...."

That would... definitely solve a few of his problems. Pretty much all of them if he was being truthful with himself. If you're in control that certainly lessens the chance of him losing his.

One thing Fetch fails to take into thought is how hard the absence has been for you as well. It's sweet that Fletcher's worried, but so is everyone else. Your whole life, you've hardly had to lift a finger with people "just looking out for you" due to your size. Fletcher smothers you most these days, but is willing to grant you freedoms with range.

Like letting you handcuff him to the headboard the first night of your honeymoon. Bunnyman had a long night ahead of him that evening.

And he couldn't wait a second longer.

Shop owners are surprised to see you wheeling a cart up to their front door when Fletcher ends up running behind on his deliveries. It's the least you can do to help out since you're part of the cause of his delay.

"Y/n? Should you even be carrying a cart that big? Where's Fetch?"

"I'll manage. Fletcher's still asleep right now, but he should be up soon enough. Really tuckered himself out last night."

"Ah... Long day at work, I presume?"

"You could say something like that...."

[feeder86]

Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

[meidnightrain]

YOUR BEST AVGIN BOY❞ - aventurine

summary: sometimes he can’t help but wish, to be a better person worthy of your love

warnings: reader is gn, angst, hints of spoilers for 2.1 penacony quest

notes: inspired by the song your best american girl by mitski because honestly ever since aventurine came out, i keep thinking of him whenever that song plays.

taglist(open): @akutasoda , @ryuryuryuyurboat , @toorurs , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @staarri , @rainswept

you have so much to do in this world, you live, you learn, and you grow towards the sun like a seed sprouting from the earth. but AVENTURINE had nothing ahead of him, it seemed. to be haunted endlessly by his past, to gamble everything he had on the line and wish for his luck to run out eventually, to be nothing more than a reminder of his family that were now gone.

you hold him in your embrace tightly, so tight that the thoughts that gnaw at him cannot grasp his shoulders. he can be protective at times; you’ve noticed that self-destructive and self-sacrificial side of his, and you’ve hated it for as long as you remember.

you’ve once asked why his favourite suit were spades—why not hearts or diamonds? his answer had been because they symbolised luck, and you had not bought his answer without hesitation. spades were commonly tied to death—the balance between creation and destruction.

if he could, he’d be your little spoon, held together by your arms that would wrap around his waist. and he’d kiss your fingers forevermore, slender and soft, unlike his calloused and sly ones, his fingers that were stained with blood and used for trickery. you run them through his hair, caressing his cheeks. you’ve memorised every nook and cranny of him, from the curve of his hip to the shape of his jaw.

he shivered under your touch, sending chills down his spine and willing him to pull your body closer to his so that you’d envelop all of him, even the bad parts that he hated.

your hold on him tightens ever so slightly, willing yourself not to waver when you speak, to be strong, and to protect him like he always did for you. “there have been moments where you’ve been more than not fine, but fine itself is the best way of describing how you feel without getting me to worry about you. so tell me, what can i do to make you stop hurting?”

“i think if you kissed me more than once, i’d be alright.” his voice is low, muffled from where he had burrowed his face into your chest.

he can hear the rumble of your laughter from where his head lay over your heart, feel the gentle and steady beating of your heart, a lullaby that lulls him to sleep. AVENTURINE has always been vulnerable in your arms; when his mouth meets yours, you both melt into each other almost instantly.

your mother wouldn't approve of how his mother raised him—alone in the ruthless sands and learning to survive with sharp wit and cunning. in fact, he knew that your family hated him, for he was an avgin. sweet as honey, twisted into something more sour by the ipc who spread falsehoods and lies to promote their agenda in the galaxy.

and some part of him couldn’t help but try to be the best he could be for you and dispel that idea people perceived of him, even if he himself didn’t believe they were wrong.

his desire had always been futile, for you had the options and the freedom to become whoever you wanted to be. he had always been nothing but a remnant of an extinct race, a miracle survivor amongst the thousands of his people lost.  

you are the sun, a glimmering star in the sky that is adored and praised by many. you've never seen the night; why would you when all everyone needs is you? but you hear its song from the morning birds, one of sweet symphony and of the refreshing glow that is its moonlight. he is not the moon, AVENTURINE is not even a star. he wasn’t flashy; he could not even compare to the light you brought. but awake at night, he’ll be singing to the birds, weaving tales for them to bring back to you, even if he knew that you’d never spare a glance at him, even if it mean that he’d never be able to see your smile.

he is the one; he is all you have ever wanted, even though you knew that loving him would ruin you. how does one heal a broken heart, one too far shattered beyond repair? you build him up again, like piecing a puzzle and filling up his missing pieces using fragments of you. and he could never be unloved by you, for his is too well tangled into your soul. every bit of you screams for him, for his love, for him to be yours, even if you know that it will be lost in the void.

and you’d wait for him to return from the abyss, even though you knew that some part of him didn’t wish to come back to you.

© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

[ellitx]

Entrapment | Alastor x Reader

Okay, hear me out. Alastor being a darling husband he is with his darling wifey is cute and all, but what about a darling wanting to escape from Alastor himself?

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alastor is enough to be a warning already, depictions of blood and gore, toxic and unhealthy dynamic

When you were still alive, he always had his eyes on you and controlled you like his little puppet. You hated it, you hated being commanded and controlled for every little thing you did and if you even dared run away from him, he’d always manage to find you. You hate every atomic part of his existence so much that you’d be willing to kill yourself just so you could escape and get that taste of freedom.

But you can’t and he won’t let you.

Alastor would never allow the tip of the knife nor even a simple piece of office equipment reach your hands. And if someone has the audacity to touch his play toy, it’s time to say goodbye.

You know he’s a malicious murderer, and he knows that you know about it. If you’re feeling brave enough to tell it to the police then go ahead, because by the time you report this to them and leave the station, the next day you find yourself throwing up yesterday’s dinner upon hearing the cops were all dead.

No one will ever believe you that the infamous radio host of your city is a murderer. For a puny citizen like you, what power do you hold to convince everyone? They’ll laugh it off and say you’re crazy.

But it’s crazier how they are all deceived by the facade he puts on. His knife plunged into the chest of your coworker, their blood spluttering on his cheek.

Alastor’s wide smile was strained and wicked, the image of the blood dripping from your head and lips when he entered the broadcasting booth was as clear as his collection of polished knives.

The audacity to lay a hand on you and push you down the stairs. Do they have the right to push you off? Of course not! He’s the only one who could torment you until you break!

He’s the only one who could tarnish your being and leave a wounded mark on your soul and heart, a reminder for you there’s no one but himself who could make you so powerless and helpless.

Do they have the right to make you so confused? To put all the blame on you, as if you were the worst person in the world? To try their best to tear you apart piece by piece? Because, after all, it’s always the fault of someone else, right? The audacity to hurt you more than any human has ever hurt another human being before… The nerve to be sure you will never find true happiness again because you're now scarred for life.

He thrust the blade again, the rains of scarlet droplets continued to pour until his face and glasses were doused.

But he didn’t let it hinder him from making sure they were as good as dead. He lifted his head and took a glimpse at the sky above. It was gloomy, gray, and dark. Not much sunshine.

Alastor smiled, stabbing the knife at the corpse's chest before wiping off his glasses with his clean napkin. Then an idea clicked onto him.

It's the perfect time to give you a little visit.

He laughed under his breath and stood up straight.

He knew his outfit was not in good condition, but oh well... Perhaps, he’d instead leave a gift for you on your porch. Oh, how he wished he could make an unexpected appearance, just to witness the shock and horror on your face as Alastor comes to the hospital drenched in a coat of glistening crimson.

The anticipation of your reaction fueled his excitement, the more he thought about it, the bigger his grin became. If this would truly happen, it will surely be a sight to behold.

Still fragile from your time in the hospital, you stepped through the threshold of your home.

You missed the sight of its familiar structure, the only space you feel safe and protected, away from Alastor and your colleagues.

A sense of relief washed over you. The familiar sights and comforting aura of your own space enveloped you like a warm embrace. But something was different, something unexpected awaited you.

There on the polished surface of your entryway sat an elegantly wrapped box, its rich paper adorned with intricate patterns and tied with a luxurious ribbon. Your fingers traced the smooth edges of the packaging and you checked for any signs who sent it. Alas, no name was found.

Who could have left this for you? And why now, upon your return from the hospital?

You had a bad feeling about it.

As you carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the layers of paper, you stared wide-eyed at the contents hidden within.

Severed limbs, skin deathly pale and stiff.

Your stomach turned violently and you threw the box away from you, the gift spilling across the floor.

"Oh god, oh my god, what the fuck?!"

You were shaking. What was this? Was this a threat? A sick joke? Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, each beat pounding like thunder. You took a step back and stumbled, falling hard to the floor.

It didn't stop there.

Wounds inflicted on every part of your body, the scars on you began to open, rendering the healing done by doctors and nurses useless.

Wounds made by knives, claws, scissors, guns. Every imaginable instrument of torture. You cried out loud. Your voice pierced the quiet of the night, disturbing the tranquility of the neighborhood.

It was a perpetual and horrid nightmare. Just closing your eyes for even a millisecond, the image of his wide creepy smile flashed before you. You could hear his dark cackles, enjoying the sight of your vulnerable form as he tormented you in and out of your work.

“Run as far as you want, dear. In the end, I’ll always be ahead of you.”

The worst part was not knowing when he would strike next. He could appear anywhere at any time.

And it was all because of his sick game.

You didn't know what to do anymore. How long did you have to keep running from him? How many more days did you have to hide from the world? You were so tired of this, tired of having to live in fear of the monster that hunted you.

But God had finally heard your pleas and granted the wish you’ve been wanting for so long. So when the news came to you that the notorious radio host was dead, relief and happiness flooded every vein in your body.

You rejoiced, celebrating the death of the one who had terrorized you for a long time.

The nightmare was finally over.

The radio station was sullen by the news of their popular host, but you didn’t care. Your work became more efficient. You didn’t feel the need to be so wary and anxious by every move you made in the station. You have finally gained your freedom and the chain that was tied to him has shattered.

This was the best thing you could ever ask for.

Even on your deathbed, it was the best dream. Years without Alastor torturing and tormenting you was bliss. A man’s greatest wealth of freedom.

But then, the dream quickly turned into a nightmare, for it was never over. The demon who you thought was dead rose once again. It was only then you realized that he was never human in the first place. He was a monster.

And now, it was you who were caught in his web.

"My, what a wonderful reunion. Did you miss me, darling?”

The demon before you was mysterious.

Unfamiliar.

But his aura and voice screamed for you, the alarms in your body ringing, to run away from him as far as you possibly can.

The wide smile plastered on his face was all too familiar. Too familiar to be hated in the living and the dead. You’d be a fool if you didn’t recognize it.

You knew who he was. You just kept on denying what was the truth, brushing all the facts laid before you beneath the rag, and keeping your pretty little head away from the politics of Hell.

A demon who is powerful, dangerous, and cruel.

A demon who was feared by the other demons in Hell. A demon who is not to be messed with.

Alastor. The Radio Demon.

It was a miracle, or rather a curse, that you were brought back to life. But now you are a prisoner to this Hell. Trapped inside an inescapable cage with a dangerous beast, you could only hope that your second death would come quickly and peacefully.

But it seemed that fate was not on your side, and Alastor was the ever cruel demon. He did not scar you easily and instead prolonged your suffering, making your life a living torture.

Beads of sweat rolled from your temple. Your hands began to tremble and you felt yourself slowly succumbing to your fear. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

You were cornered, trapped.

Alastor had you where he wanted.

You watched him closely, eyes locked on him and every single movement. If he did something, you would see it.

"Are you frightened, dear?" he asked. His eyes met yours and he smiled. "There is no need to be afraid."

"Stay back! Don't touch me!" you shouted at him. The corners of his lips curled up, his smile turning sinister.

"Now, now, let's not act too hastily."

His gloved hand reached out and caressed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. His red eyes bore into your soul, burning with hunger.

You couldn't bear to look at him. You didn't want him touching you.

"Don't," you whimpered.

"Don't be afraid. You have no reason to be afraid."

Rivers of tears streamed down your cheeks as the fear overwhelmed you. You didn't want him touching you. This man... He was the same one who hurt you, who ruined you.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you here?"

The smile on his face grew wider.

"Do I need a reason? It’s obvious why we’re here," he replied, cocking his head to the side, eyes piercing through your eyes and consuming every little bit of your reactions in his head.

You gulped and stepped back, trying to create some distance between you and him.

"What are you going to do with me?"

He chuckled. "What a silly question! Would a little reacquaintance hurt?"

Reacquaintance? He was talking like this was a casual meeting. Like you were old friends reuniting. But this was the man who hurt you.

"What's the meaning of this?” You sobbed, shaking your head.

Alastor laughed loudly, his grin never faltering, and it makes you sick he finds everything amusing. An entertainment for his delight.

"You never fail to amuse me, dear. Aren’t you the one who killed me?” His antlers grew, his pupils changed to radio dials and his shadow stretched out of him, becoming more demonic in appearance.

You trembled. Your heart beat faster, your legs felt weak, and your mouth was dry.

"I... I…."

He stepped closer, and you stepped back.

Nothing came out of your lips. The words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. You didn't want to look him in the eyes but his gaze held your chin up high, forcing you to face him. He smiled, and his eyes turned back to normal.

The knees that kept you upright gave in, unable to stabilize you any longer as your body slumped onto the rough pavement.

"Oh, darling," he sighed, the radio static in his voice disappeared as he crouched down. 

Your gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding any chance encounter with Alastor's piercing stare. Instead, your eyes trailed to his cane, a silent witness to the tense atmosphere between you.

You dared not meet those fiery red optics that seemed to delve into the depths of your very being, dissecting every nuance of your expression. Fingers clenched tightly, you seek some form of solace in the texture of the barren earth beneath you, as though it could take you amidst the storm brewing within.

Alastor took your chin between his fingers and delighted your vulnerable form. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy and cheeks stained with tears.

"Fate has intertwined us together, dear. Run from me, I’ll always find you."

You didn't know what was more cruel—being brought to hell when you only wished for peace or being toyed around with him after death.

The nightmare you once thought had finally ceased returned to resume its cycle in the afterlife.

"I'll never get away from you..." You said, voice low and wavering. All hope was lost and so was your faith to continue living in this fiery pit of Hell.

"That's right. Good girl," He patted your head, taking a few strands of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. You fought the impulse to recoil, suppressing the urge to swat his hand away. 

The consequence of such defiance weighed heavily on your mind; after all, provoking one of hell's overlords was a gamble you weren't willing to take. So you held your ground, masking your inner turmoil beneath a facade of obedience, unsure of what consequences awaited should you dare to challenge the infernal authority before you.

In the dim light, his hand tenderly brushed away the tear tracing its path down your cheek. But as your eyes met his, a glint of something primal flickered in the darkness, casting an eerie glow upon his sharp, yellowed teeth.

Upon the moonlight, his crimson irises blazed like embers, drawing you into their hypnotic depths with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"But fear not, darling. I can promise you a good time. And now that I found you again, we can pick up from where we left off. It will be just like old times."