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inkskinned · 10 months

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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

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egophiliac · 8 months

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another one that I'm not super happy with, but continuing to mess with it isn't going to help! so here he is! 🦇 there was a lot I was trying to get across in this one, so uhhhhh hopefully it reads.

we're almost out of unique magics now...just Ace (and maybe Grim?) left!

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #unique magic posters #drawing lilia slightly more on-model than i usually do feels so wrong #i just want to draw the tallest spikes #lilia: (writing down his height) 5'6“...5'2” in a hat #(actually i'm pretty sure he would just write 'fun-size' but i digress)#anyway lilia. hey lilia. your magic is not cradle-specific so WHY is it called that #did it come in like 'so in like 500-ish years we're going to have a significant moment with a cradle. just trust me bro.'#'in the meantime enjoy having the weirdest magic name ever'#probably came in useful for raising kids though #don't put that in your mouth don't you know where it's BEEN #because i do #(long stare off into middle distance) i know where it's been

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wahgifs · 3 months

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[SKZ CODE] EP45 2024 SKZ CONFERENCE #1 ☆

#createskz #bystay #seungminsource #vocalrachasource #stray kids #seungmin #skz #kim seungmin #i got distracted by hj and cb but i honestly only opened ps for him #hey kim seungmin #i'm in love with you!!!

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 6 months

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Past Astarion Meets His Future

This is a weird ass idea, but I'm doing it anyway. Some time travel fuckery. But the gist is: What if Astarion, decades before the Mind-flayers captured him, was on his last leg? Just on the verge of doing, what was at the time, his only way out. But what if something a little unworldly stopped him?

TW: Suicidal thoughts. M/F, me phoning it in with the dnd lore, Cazador is evil. Like, torture, physically and mentally, manipulation, literal horror shit. He's here so bad things happen to randos and our poor guy. I'm also using this as the backstory again for why Astarion can be in the sun in the future because it's so god damned convenient for drabbles.

Astarion watched the crowded bar with focused eyes, a feigned, relaxed smirk on his lips. But even with the acting, he could feel the smile on his face start to tremble, a tell-tale sign that he was truly on his last leg. It had been a long, horrible night, one that had no end in sight. Cazador was in rare form, demanding multiple warm bodies in the span of less than five hours. Astarion wasn't sure what had angered him this time, but he was taking it on the victims in a particularly savage way.

Twice already he had forced Astarion to stay in the room with the poor souls he'd brought back. And then Cazador... made him watch what he did to them. The monster truly had a knack for keeping them alive until the last possible moment. Beating them, assaulting them, laughing at their cries for help. He drank from them last, feasting on their blood until they were just on the edge of death before tossing to them ground. Then Astarion was dismissed with the order to find another.

He hated it. It was the worst part of his nights by far, not including when he was the one being tortured in their place. It didn't help that he always looked at their faces, full of terror and betrayal.

Why did he always have to look? It was a question he knew the answer to. It was because he did that to them. Perhaps not literally, but what was the difference? Astarion had led them straight into his hands.

That was all he did. His entire existence had been reduced to this. A slave, a rat, scuttling through the streets, only capable of inflicting the same torment on strangers. It was a hell that no one should experience, and one that Astarion had been in for nearly 130 years.

How could he continue like this? What was the point? He'd spent so long living on pure survival instinct, waiting for the impossible day where luck would be on his side. Where Cazador would kill the wrong stranger, where the possibility of his murder could become a reality. It was delusional, a poor excuse to continue clinging to this farce of a life.

But there was another option. There always had been. All he needs to do is wander off and wait for the sun to rise, and everything could finally be over. It's far from the first time he's thought about it. But Astarion is nothing but a coward. He'd seen the pure pain and misery of a death of that nature, your insides boiling from within as your skin turned to dust. It was horrifying, one of the worst ways someone could go. And yet... it was starting to seem like the only reasonable option he had left.

Maybe... maybe today would be the day, the first time he'd seen the sun in decades. And the last time he'd ever take a breath.

"Are you alone?" A voice asked, followed by a gentle touch to his arm.

Astarion turned, that same shallow smile instantly reappearing on his face. It was a man, one that was handsome enough for Astarion to probably not feel completely sick during the deed. Then again... he could always ignore them and go back to his final plan.

Or he could wait it out one more day, and pray for a miracle. Astarion nodded towards him, still slightly torn but willing to at least try. It's not like he could go home empty handed if things turned out that way.

"Come to my room?"

Well this was certainly easy. Astarion didn't even have to take the energy to bite out a subpar pick up line. He just followed the man to his room, a plan forming in his head on how he could convince him back to the manor. Not to mention his own escape if he turned out to have less than savory intentions.

The stranger shut the door behind him, sitting on the side of his bed with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes staring straight ahead. Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his own. Great. A weirdo. What a lovely way to end the night, spending it seducing a complete freak. But Astarion had dealt with worse. He perched next to him, crossing his legs as he waited to see where this would go.

"I can see it," He finally said, his voice gravelly as he turned to stare at Astarion.

Astarion raised his brow, wondering for the first time if this particular prey had been partaking in some mind altering substances, "And what exactly are you seeing?"

"You."

Suddenly, the man was wrapping a tight hand around Astarion's wrist, his eyes shining with an unnatural green light, "You're close to the edge. Too close. My lord needs you breathing."

Astarion froze, equally parts horrified and confused at what he was alluding to. How on earth did he know his thoughts? What lord? Or the more likely reality; How wasted could one person be?

Astarion tried to pull back, frowning when he realized the grip on his wrist was iron-clad. He could feel a bit of panic start to swell inside him as he struggled, his voice rising, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let go of me-"

"You must live," He said, the color of his eyes only getting brighter and brighter, near twin flames in the darkness of the room, "There is no other way. Kelemvor has work for you yet."

His confusion was quickly evaporating into rage. He didn't know what this thing wanted from him, nor why the god of death would have any interest in his life. But how dare he insist on Astarion's pathetic existence having meaning. He knew nothing.

His mask was slipping, his righteous anger spilling forth, "Let go. Before I rip your fucking arm off."

But he made no moves to back down. Instead he started to chant, an incantation that had Astarion officially panicking. Whatever magic he was using, it was powerful. Reality was shifting right beneath Astarion's feet, morphing into something different. The next thing he knew they were somewhere else entirely, his reality melting into something new right before his eyes.

The entire thing was so shocking that Astarion didn't even realize he was seeing sunlight. Without a single pain. He frantically looked around, the insane stranger's grip finally loosening as he twisted away. They were on a couch, in the middle of what looked like a brightly lit townhouse, voices spilling out of the other room.

Astarion stood quickly, a hiss escaping him, "Where in the hells are we?"

"Nowhere," The man said cryptically, his eyes still aflame, "Neither the present of the future. We are in nothing but a glimpse, taken and made for you."

That did nothing to answer his question. But it did make his mind go into more reasonable directions. This had to be an illusion, there was no other explanation for why he wasn't being burned alive. But an illusion of what? And for what purpose?

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose, at a complete loss at what to do. He could try and kill him and pray that that would break the spell. But there was also the chance that he wouldn't live through an altercation with someone who could warp his senses so easily. Or perhaps this whole thing was a nightmare, a horrifying dream he'd cooked up after a night in the torture chamber.

Still at a loss, he settled on asking another question, "Then what is this a glimpse of?"

"Home," The man said simply before slipping off the couch. The cryptic bastard.

He started walking towards the next room towards the unknown voices; Astarion feeling helpless but to follow.

He lingered at the entryway, his eyes widening at the sight of a woman standing there, cooing at a teary-eyed child she had on her hip. They were right in her line of sight, but she had no reaction to their presence, instead calling out into the other room, "Did you find it yet?"

Another voice called back, oddly familiar as it groaned, "If I had, would I still be on my hands and knees here?"

Astarion stepped forward, more than ready to see if he could enlist the help of strangers for his predicament.

"They can not perceive us," The stranger said, interrupting the call for help that was on the tip of Astarion's tongue, "They are not real. Merely copies of what is, what will be."

"Lovely," Astarion growled out, his fingers itching to fight back against this demon of a man, "Now what in the gods' names does this have to do with me?"

"Watch and you will see," He said, his eyes blazing straight ahead, "The Lord of Death works in mysterious ways."

Astarion's theory of this being a torture-induced dream was becoming more and more believable. He didn't even bother questioning it, not when one more inane answer would send him into a tailspin. Instead he stared ahead, waiting for the moment he would wake up.

The baby was still squirming. Annoying whining sounds spilling from its lips, nearly on the edge of crying. But the woman still had a bright smile on her face, calling back "I told you we should have looked for it last night!"

"Well when she threw it across the room I assumed that meant it had fallen out of favor!" That same familiar voice yelled back, followed by an excited ah-ha! sound.

"Isabella's gonna have a fit, isn't she?" The woman sing-songed, bouncing the child on her hip, "I guess Mommy's going to have to let you start sucking on Daddy's hair again, huh?"

"I heard that!" The muffled voice called back, getting clearer and clearer by the moment. And then another man was walking into the room, grinning ear to ear as he held up a pacifier, "And I will not be forgetting it darling. Don't come crying to me the next time she's gnawing on your nose."

He leaned over to kiss the woman on the cheek before popping the pacifier in the girl's mouth, laughing when it instantly made her calm down. He was tall and pale, an elf with piercing red eyes and pure white hair.

No. It couldn't be-

"There. All better," The man sighed, his voice crystal clear in the calmness of the room, "She has quite the arm for a toddler."

It was a voice that Astarion knew, better than anyone else. It was his own.

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as his other self lifted the baby up in his arms, laughing as the child squealed around the pacifier, "She sure is cute for someone who can be such a brat. She takes after her mother doesn't she?"

The woman rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. Almost like she couldn't help but do anything else as she watched the duo, "Brave words for someone of your nature. Not to mention how she's your twin."

"Nonsense. She looks just like you, we should have named her Tav Jr," Other Astarion playfully argued, taking his other arm to wrap around the woman's shoulders, "I'm only responsible for the corpse-like complexion."

Astarion stared at them, in complete shock. He didn't-why would anyone or anything want to show him this? It didn't make sense. How would it be possible for him to be in the sunlight? Let alone to have a family. Astarion knew that this had to be a lie, there was no other explanation.

But that didn't stop his heart from aching from being forced to witness it. He was too shell-shocked to speak as he followed the duo to the other room, listening as his other self set the child in a crib, still cooing at her, "Auntie Karlach is coming over and you'll need your rest. How else will you be annoying together?"

"Astarion!"

He watched himself laugh as he pulled back, kissing her little forehead before murmuring, "Mommy only says my name like that when she has no comeback, isn't that right princess?"

"You're going to regret telling her everything when she can start talking," The woman, Tav, piped up from next to him, "I hope you realize she'll tell me all of your secrets."

Astarion rolled his eyes before pulling her against him, pressing a sweet and lingering kiss to her lips, "What secrets do I have that you don't know? Please, enlighten me."

What kind of cruel joke was this? Astarion, the real Astarion, had seen enough. He turned to the bastard that had sent him here, growling through gritted teeth, "Why are you doing this to me? Have I not suffered through enough?"

The man offered nothing of value, "We offer you what could be, if you can survive. No more, no less."

No. No, no, no. He wouldn't believe him. He refused to. There was no future for him. There couldn't be. I-It wasn't possible. Not with Cazador looming, not when he couldn't walk in the sun without being burned alive. And especially not when he couldn't even fathom letting himself care form someone enough to have a family with.

But that's what was in front of him. He turned back, his morbid curiosity getting the better of him. Just in time to see the couple standing there, holding each other while they made out like teenagers.

"I love you," His other self sighed happily, the words free and unbidden from his own lips between kisses, "More than anything my sweet."

"With one exception?" Tav asked, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Astarion laughed, nodding towards the crib with a knowing grin, "With one exception."

Astarion stared at them, a horrifying feeling starting to grow in his chest.

Hope.

It's the greatest betrayal he could give himself, an eternity's sentence to his own personal hell on the delusional belief that something better would come. He couldn't give in to it. He wouldn't.

But the question still escapes his lips, "How long?"

"Seventy years until you meet," The stranger said, "You must live to see it. Five more until you're here."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as the alternate reality started to fade, the stranger's eyes becoming more dull and human-like by the moment. He stared until the last possible moment, trying to commit it all to memory.

But it was difficult. Like thoughts he couldn't quite grasp, slipping through his fingers. Something wasn't right.

"Will I remember this?" He asked, even though he was already on the edge of forgetting.

"No," The man said simply. They were back in the room, sitting on the bed as though nothing had happened, "But you'll remember the hope."

It was the equivalent of a curse, one that Astarion could barely fathom as magic twisted his memories. But he could feel it there, festering in his heart. The yearning for a new life, stronger than ever.

Astarion left Shar's Caress that night feeling dazed and confused. He barely managed to drag a wasted loner back to the manor with him, preying on him in the back aisles. It was startling to think that he'd almost forgotten his original mission considering the consequences. But whatever happened had... done something to him. Something that he couldn't quite name.

But he didn't see the sun that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. Instead he continued to struggle, to suffer at the hands of his sadistic sire with no end in sight. Not until years and years later, when the worst and best thing to ever happen to him occurred. He was kidnapped by mind flayers, but gifted with a disgusting parasite that allowed him to live in the sun.

It wasn't ideal but it was better than being under Cazador's thumb. Not to mention how he found companions relatively quickly. It had been pure luck that you stumbled upon him, even luckier still that you were the type to forgive a man for having a knife to your throat.

He was happy to accompany you. He was happy to do whatever it took to increase his chances of survival, frankly. It helped that he felt... strangely drawn to you. You looked oddly familiar. He didn't know how else to describe it, but it was almost as though he'd met someone from a past life.

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #what kind of christmas carol fuckery is this?#I'm having a kids moment #but hey isn't writing where you can explore the things you don't know if you want or not yet #heavy leaning towards not because my ass isn't locking down an astarion man #time travel?#what is this #idk #practice writing dont judge me #queue

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philsmeatylegss · 1 month

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Me bopping to a song whose chorus is about passive suicidal ideation and waiting for death to experience less pain for the next few weeks

#'I prayed those lights would take me home then I heard 'hey kid get out of the road''#maybe I'm just mentally ill but I feel like it's pretty clear #wait till tiktok hears that most of his songs referring to 'home' are referencing heaven oh boy they won't like that #rae’s rambles #twenty one pilots

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spoozly · 10 months

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The h

#Bai he bought macaques sweater. Btw.#Stars..#I hate thjem #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #shadowpeach #Macaque #macaque monkie kid #Sun Wukong #Lmk wukong #monkie kid wukong #Lmk macaque #macaque x wukong #Hey guys wanna watch me recite part of shadowplay from memory #Mm I'm so excited I haven't been to the movies in ages uh kid this aint a cinema it's a shadowplayyy with puppets whhaaa puppets no I #Thought we were seeing Kung fu monkey cop the movie err check the back oh mei isn't that the guy with the key you mean the magic key that #Can unlock anything? Yeah I'm pretty sure that is him! And I'm also pretty sure that he's still not actually the mayor... Eugh well that's #Not creepy at all. I'm gonna stop here

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nattikay · 5 months

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friendly reminder that Neteyam is a well-adjusted kid who has a good relationship with his parents, that he tries his darnedest to be a good warrior because he genuinely looks up to his dad and wants to be like him, and that the idea that Jake and Neytiri are "forcing" him to be perfect, that they "stole his childhood" or that he's "not allowed" to be a kid, etc. are all pure fanfiction with little to no evidence in canon thanks bye

#avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam #given how hesitant Jake is to let Neteyam fight I can absolutely GUARANTEE you that there was almost certainly NEVER an interaction...#...in which Neteyam said ''hey Mom and Dad I'm gonna go hang out with Lo'ak and Kiri now''#and Jake and Neytiri reply ''no son you're too old for such childish things you must come do Adult Tasks that you secretly hate instead #so you can be the Perfect Future Olo'eyktan™"#THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN #AND IT'S NOT “IMPLIED” TO HAVE HAPPENED EITHER #Y'ALL MADE THAT UP IN YOUR HEADS #along with the idea that Neteyam secretly hates his lot in life and is internally yearning to be A Normal Kid™#guys Neteyam WANTS to be a warrior he WANTS follow in Jake's footsteps he strives so hard because HE *WANTS* TO OF HIS OWN ACCORD #there is absolutely d i d d l y s q u a t that suggests this path is being “forced” on him #or that he is being secretly ~crushed under the pressure~ and Just Wants to Be Free or w/e #you. made. that. up.#it's not a canon aspect of his character #and. look. if you wanna explore the idea of him being ''crushed under pressure'' in a fanfic #because you find it interesting or it helps you work through your own stuff then hey be my guest #but once you start saying stuff like #''oh i feel so bad for [canon] Neteyam because he died before he could break free of his parents' toxic influence''#Shut Up™#neteyam's parents were not a toxic influence; he was never forced into being something he didn't want to be; his childhood was not “stolen”#he did not have anything to “break free” of. you are injecting extra layers of tragedy that aren't actually there #you are giving yourself extra grief for things that were never canon #stahp #feel free to write whatever you want in fanfiction but please i am begging you #to be aware of which ideas are actually present in the movie vs. which ones are just fanfiction

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reallilystuff · 5 months

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places him gently in ur palm and scutters away.

part 1 of just drawing the dca in outfits I'd like to yoink for my own wardrobe | part 2

my friend showed me the wonders of actually using a stylus on ibispaint instead of my fingers so I will be drawing moon too since I got the energy. in a skirt. because why not. we ball

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mettywiththenotes · 2 years

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Murray: “You, you’re harder to read. Probably, like everyone, afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for who you really are

and retreated back to the safety of... Steve.

We like Steve.

But we don’t love Steve.”

Nancy: “What? No, we- I mean, I-I-I do...”

Why are the Wheelers so see-through

#are you kidding me i heard that IDENTICAL three-time stammer and i laughed so hard #they're so see through #its the way murray would tear mike apart if they met now #he'd take one look at mike and go 'nancy's brother right? i can tell. since you have all *gestures vaguely to him + will* THAT going on'#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #st4 spoilers #mike wheeler #byler #stranger things 4 #mettys posts #metty posts #hey girlies i'm struggling with analysis posts so i have resorted to doing Screenshots And Quotes #btw that last screenshot isn't what mike says in response to eleven showing him the letters #i just found it similar to nancy's nervous denial stammer #to me mike and nancy's nervous denial stammers are the same #mike wheeler is not straight #byler tumblr

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turtledotjpeg · 2 years

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when ur squad is size small-medium-large

#hxh #hunter x hunter #melody hxh #senritsu #kurapika #leorio paladiknight #'squad' in this case is mostly wishful thinking on my part but listen it could be so beautiful #and hey they existed in the same room together at least like... Three times in yorknew?#so that means they're basically bffs by now right ??? lol #anyway #feel free to read this platonically or romantically #but if it's romantic then melody better be in there somewhere :P #(i'm kidding it's not that serious)#(just gotta represent my weird little ot3 here haha)#...okay sorry to once again put a novel's worth of tags but i gotta say #writing alt text for this is so embarrassing lmao don't look at me #feels like a bad fanfiction 😂#i just like it when fictional people hug each other ok

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canisalbus · 6 months

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Your art tastes like aged paper, sugar, and chocolate to me, with a hint of salt every so often

Machete looks like white chocolate, and Vasco's like buttery caramel

#aw #that sounds nice #anonymous #answered #I was wondering what the aged paper is doing there but it reminded me of something #so I'm going to share a weird personal detail totally unprompted #I think I used to have pica disorder when I was a kid I would gnaw on and eat a lot of small inedible objects #pieces of cardboard rubber bands and blu tack #the plastic animal figurines I had had bitemarks on them and were often missing bodyparts like if a dog had gotten to them #also a ton of uncooked pasta #I think it wasn't a flavor thing I had obsessions for specific textures that weren't found in actual foods #I particularly craved those candy wrappers that are made of waxed paper #(finns might be familiar with pihlaja or marianne wrappers for example or those translucent inner wrappers in lehmäkarkki/ cow cream fudge)#can't say for sure when it stopped but one day I realized that hey hold on this probably isn't normal human behavior #I think I was over 10 but under 15 #and I had forgotten the whole thing but got such a vivid flashback from that line it was actually kind of alarming

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fisheito · 6 days

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i want to mash them together like ill-fitting puzzle pieces

#ear to ear!!!!! *slides them against each other*#it's for science yaku #it's always for science #pre-sleep strikes again #i'm about to lie down to rest when i hear rei whisper in my brain (like the suspicious old man he is)#hey kid. wanna _______________?#yakurei

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bumblingbabooshka · 25 days

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What I Say: I'm fine. What I Mean: There was a Star Trek Novel in which Tuvok and Jack Crusher (Beverely's Husband) have to go undercover in a bathhouse that they think is a brothel to get information out of a potential lead and because of a series of hijinks at one point must come to terms with the fact that they're definitely going to have to go into the boss's private room completely naked and might have to go even further than that to get the info they truly need. They were ready to go all in on that "I'm not gay but a mission's a mission" life.

Transcripts under the cut

[Image 1:

“We’re here to meet someone,” he said. “I was told that a Melacron named Pudris Barrh enjoyed visiting this establishment.” The alien smiled. “Oh, I see…you’re one of Barrh’s boys,” she remarked with a knowing lilt. Barrh’s boys? Crusher asked himself. What did she mean by that? He experienced a moment of alarm but kept his composure.

“If you can get past Old Scowly there,” the female continued, “you can join Barrh at his pleasures if you like." She raised a long slender arm and pointed to a gilded door to her right.] [Image 2:

“I don’t know for certain what kind of establishment this is,” said the commander, “but I can make a pretty good guess.”

“Unfortunately,” the Vulcan whispered back with sincere and undisguised revulsion, “so can I.”

"Still, we may have to go along with it.” Crusher regarded Tuvok. “Would that…pose a problem?” “Naturally,” the Vulcan replied.

The commander grunted. “I was afraid you would say that.”

“And knowing what I do of human marriage customs,” said Tuvok, “I would imagine it would pose a problem for you as well.”

Crusher looked lost “Maybe we could just play along for some of it…for the sake of-”

“My master will see you now,” said Old Scowly. He had reappeared before the Vulcan knew it. “You may enter through the changing room, remove your clothes, and join Pudris Barrh at his pleasures.”] [Image 3:

As it happened, Tuvok wasn’t happy either. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that the uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach was apprehension. Of course, that was impossible. His control over his emotions was impeccable. And yet the sensation remained.

“There must be another way,” said Crusher. “There is no other way,” the Vulcan told him. “This is the situation in which your plan has placed us.” He knew his words sounded biting, but he didn’t wish any of them back.

The human ran his hands through his thick, dark hair. “Damn it,” he said, “If Beverely ever…” “Find out about this?” the ensign suggested.

Frowning, Crusher nodded. “But as you say, there’s no other option open to us. I guess we’ll just deal with whatever comes as best we can.” He grunted. “The things we do for king and country.”] [Image 4:

When the air cleared for a moment - a byproduct of their entrance - the Vulcan was able to get a better look at their host. He was rather corpulent for a Melacron, it seemed, and more pale-looking than most.

As thick, sludgy ripples made their slow way outward from Barrh’s generous torso, he waved to Tuvok and Crusher. “Please, gentlemen, join me. We’ve not met yet, but there are few better places to get to know someone than in The House of Comfort!”

[Crusher] and Tuvok exchanged a quick glance. Taking a deep breath, the human walked up to the carpeted stairs and placed first one foot, then the other, into the hot, liquid muck.

The ensign had little choice but to follow suit. He assured himself, as he sank up to his chest in the thick, surprisingly pleasant-smelling stuff, that there was realy no logical reason T’Pel ever had to become acquainted with this misadventure.

Besides, he reflected, there was quite a good chance that the majority of his and Crusher’s actions would be classified. He had to confess that he found some comfort in the prospect.]

Bonus:

Tuvok and Crusher apparently both go home and tell their wives about this experience. I don't know if we learn of T'Pel's reaction but Beverely apparently thinks its hilarious!

#novel experiences #TUVOK. HEY.#-POINTS-#HE CAN'T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS #Tuvok CANNOT keep getting into dubiously moral but incredibly gay scenarios he just can't I'm gonna start howling at the moon #The fact that he has a wife is so funny #GOD there was an old post I LOVED that was like #'I know Tuvok has a wife and kids and I'm so happy for him but he has sex with men.'#<- VERY paraphrased by me #st voyager #tng #Jack Crusher #Tuvok #st voy #star trek #Is he....you know? -gestures- One of Barrh's boys?#Crusher: We might have to suck this guy's dick Tuvok. / Tuvok: Tch.#I love that Tuvok's like 'he knew his words sounded harsh....and he meant it<3 He meant every syllable <3'#him being so devoted to his wife just makes the whole thing more lascivious /positive

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