#please feel free

[imknotyomi]

ok, I'll be accepting requests to draw you something (mainly about slipknot)

It can be whatever you want, this is for fun! This type of thing helps me in my artistic block so...

Feel free, you can send me your request in the questions section

Papa shawn for attention

#chris fehn #craig jones #joey jordison #sid wilson #jim root #paul gray #corey taylor #mick thomson #slipknot #slipknot fanart #slipknot shipping #please feel free #Yomi

[wnterslder]

open starter ; mutuals only !

the soldier is adjusting is cuffs , blazer laid out on the velvet chair to his side. “ you ready ? “

#i'm going out to walk my dog but #PLEASE FEEL FREE #they can be doing anything jksdfgh #❪ ⠀ * ⠀ ─── ⠀ 𝙰𝙽𝚂𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳. ⠀﹕ ⠀ ic. ⠀ ❫ #❪ ⠀ * ⠀ ─── ⠀ 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙺 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙸 𝙰𝙼. ⠀﹕ ⠀ james ‘bucky’ barnes. ⠀ ❫

[mizjoely]

If I could fanvid, I would Sherlolly fanvid to Little River Band's "Lady" since the song's been stuck in my head and seems to fit so much REVISED FOR TIME TRAVEL AU:

Look around you, look up here Take time to make time Make time to be there

Look around, be a part Feel for the winter But don't have a cold heart

And I love you best You're not like the rest You're there when I need you You're there when I need I'm gonna need you

A long time ago I had a lady to love

She made me think of things I never thought of

Now she's gone and I'm on my own

A love song has come into my mind A love song It was there all the time

So lady Let me take a look at you now You're there on the dance floor Making me want you somehow

(such a terrible blurry pic but you get the idea)

Oh lady I think it's only fair I should say to you Don't be thinkin' that I don't want you 'Cause maybe I do

Look around, come to me I have no answers But know where I wanna be

And I love you best You're not like the rest You're there when I need you You're there when I need I'm gonna need you

Oh lady I think it's only fair I should say to you Don't be thinkin' that I don't want you 'Cause maybe I do

Don't be thinkin' that I don't want you Lady I do

#sherlolly #if only i could fanvid #these are some of the bits i'd use #if anyone CAN fanvid #and wants to tackle this #please feel free

[kiss-me-cill-me]

so... thighs?

I mean, surely we can all look with our own two eyes for that one; they're hard to miss 👀👀

#but hand anon if you'd like to weigh in #please feel free #anon ask #lemmy talks

[elpida]

let me compile a list of plots for you that i'm ready to go feral for:

you just won me with the highest bid at an underground prostitution/trafficking ring auction, now what???? gimme that angst, the whole spiel of it.

someone's dad owes someone a shit load of money so one muse is kidnapped by the other, as leverage to make sure they get the money they want but oops now, i kinda of just want you instead. BUT OOP what if the dad just, offers them up instead? and they take the offer.

fancy dress party hook up, in the costume.. but oh no they realise after they should not have hooked up at all. smut and angst.

i swear if someone can give me a ‘i’ll pay you to have my baby’ kind of plot au shit, i’ll scream

stripper plots where the boss has a weak spot are just made for me tbh

i want a woman who’s wanted to have a child for so long and she’s yet to find the right man and she has herself artificially inseminated and then meets a man whilst pregnant and like?? someone stepping up to prove their up to it? loving them anyway yk?

i want friends who are desperate to have children that they decide to have one together it could even be the above but with friends!

i watched sweet tooth and i can't not think about hybrids. let one of my muses by a hybrid with an animal, i beg you. let them be hunted by humans, let one by hunter one by hybrid, let there be angst, like them be their protector, let it be annnnything, let my muse be bought and having hybrids is a sign of wealth, let me just, go unhinged with it.

muses have dated a long time, one finds out the other has a huge secret. honestly are these are NOT good?

if you have a mafia boss, lets talk.

not joking but firemen? where you at?

medieval time change plots, honestly please i love them, royals and peasants and knights and just, the whole lot.

why are there not more supernatural plots? like give me vampires, give me wolves, give me witches, give me a vampire plot where it’s destined lovers? a reincarnated soul mate?

apocalypse au’s. that’s it. that’s the idea.

gimme like the whole, muse being dated as a joke, as a bet, and the reprimand of it, the angst, the genuine feelings that came and the hurt caused ect

#plot #wanted plots #if anyone wants to snatch me at the hand for these #please feel free #i'm down for all

[deathsbestgirl]

Maybe people don’t write about the x files anymore because they’re all over it?! They moved on.

you came here from twitter to say this??

also no. there have been fics every single day all month long. i see new art & edits everyday. people are tweeting thoughts everyday. constantly.

writing meta is just a different thing and has never been as consistent in any fandom i've been in. and it just happens to be what i enjoy most.

#how about nice asks #if you wanna chat & share a real opinion/thoughts on the x files #please feel free #this nonsense isn't welcome

[the-littlest-kojin]

It's the moonfire faire!

Which of my characters would you want to go on a beach date with, and what would you do?

I will respond to each IC!

#ffxiv #ask prompt #if other people want to steal this for their own characters #please feel free

[knittystitch]

Not meant critically or as though you're doing something wrong! I noticed the way you hold your yarn is how I used to but it would start cutting off my circulation just a bit and leaving indentations in my pointer finger. How do you avoid that? (I also have very tight tension, knitting and otherwise lol)

Hey this is a really great question because as a Tight Tension Knitter I do also have this problem! Usually when working with bulkier weights (the one in the video is DK, about the smallest this works for), I can usually get away with shifting the specific point of the wrap on my finger at the end of each row to avoid the yarn cutting in. In smaller weights where that doesn't work, I have a ring I bought off Etsy I use:

Which allows me to wrap the yarn around something solid and avoid having it cut in. A drawback to this method is that there are extra steps to getting "into" and "out of" the knitting, so it takes a tidbit more dedication; but on the plus side 🤷‍♀️ that's a kraken on my finger how cool is that!

#and before anyone comes out to say 'just hold the yarn with your left hand' #i do occasionally work the yarn in my left hand #i end up wrapping it the same way #and end up with the same problem #anyway #as usual #if anyone else has any other useful tips they'd like to share #please feel free #knitting #knitblr #ask #reply #anonymous #knitting gadgets #knitting advice

[grollow]

Well then you'll get more essays yelling at you >:( my preferred way of commenting is not feral, it's blocks of text in screeching-

If you don't mind those coming from someone else than your friends.

As long as you don't make me sit out on the lawn in the rain, we're good.

I love long comments. I love short comments, too. I love comments. Whether it be "good chap" which one person consistently comments with (and I love them for it), or long analysis flailing about the foreshadowing in my prose -- I love all of it. Because it shows me people are enjoying my writing and the story. Pretty much the only kind of comments I don't like are either:

That one person who left me a kinda rude one that was like 'I'm done reading this because its confusing and fanfiction isnt worth my time' (??)

People misgendering the vessels (they are they/them or it/its)

Anything else I really love.

And the daily Kudos email is literally my serotonin rush of the day.

#asks: answered #anon #please feel free #leaving me long comments makes me mentally decide you're my friend #rainbow-scarab has no idea that ive just decided that theyre my pal

[peerless-shizun]

If Bingge and Bingmei could stand to be in the same room as each other without arguing for longer than five minutes, they would have figured out that Shen Qingqiu is “not” Shen Qingqiu.

All it would take is for Liu Qingge to hear that Binghe is at Qing Jing Peak. He’d bust through the door and Bingmei would just sigh as Bingge looks between them because uhm hello? Liu Qingge is supposed to be dead? What do you mean Shizun saved him?! THEY HATE EACH OTHER?!And then Liu Qingge would be like “oh he’s nice now” Now? Binghe would just casually mention that Shen Qingqiu had a qi deviation when he was 14, and it that’s when it would click.

“Shizun” didn’t have a qi deviation that made him change. So when Shizun was kinder after the deviation they would “know” that he wasn’t the same person. (Whether they think his memories/personality was altered or if they think he’s an entirely different person, I do not know. That’s up to you my friends)

#svsss #scumbag system #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #liu qingge #if someone wants to elaborate and think this through #please feel free #i’m having thoughts #but they are not very organized

[c-ones-adults-only-club]

Drill Sergeant

Summary: You find Dress Uniforms, complete with swagger cane, while tidying up in the barracks of Clone Force 99. Hunter puts his on for you…

Hunter x AFAB reader

TW: Contains mild hazing and humiliation, rough handling, caning, oral (m receiving), unprotected PiV (be smart in rl). All have been discussed thoroughly off-screen. Rating: E Minors DNI.

For one reason or another, probably watching Sharpe too many times, I couldn’t shake the mental image of our bois dressed in 19th century inspired uniforms.

Thus, this was born…

The hold of the Marauder is silent, most of the Batchers off enjoying their downtime. You stand to attention in the centre, head held high and gaze set on the far bulkhead. You've been standing there like this for a while now, quite how long is anyone's guess, and you fight off the overwhelming need to shift your position. You don't dare move, as much as your legs are aching.

In an effort to distract yourself, you cast your mind back to how you came to be in this position.

It all started last week, when you and the Batch had some downtime. You'd shooed them all out of the barracks with a myriad of different warnings and threats and promises, and set to scrubbing and tidying and throwing out anything that was… questionable, with the exception of anything of Tech’s or Crosshair’s. You'd been determined to have the barracks at the very least smelling better. You would locate the source of that smell if it killed you.

That had been when you'd found it. An old, dusty crate that had clearly not been touched. Curiosity had gotten the better of you and you cracked it open. What you saw was… not what you expected. Wads of slate grey material and shiny silver buttons greeted you. You carefully picked up one and unfolded it.

And gasped.

They were dress uniforms. The high collar of the jacket you were holding was studded with three bright silver points, and a black medal bar rested on the left side of the double row of silver buttons. Oh Gods… your mouth watered at the prospect of seeing any one the guys in this. Something else caught your eye, shoved underneath the jackets. Long and black, tipped with the same bright silver as the buttons. It was a swagger cane. A Sergeant’s swagger cane.

"I was hoping you wouldn't find those." Speaking of…

"Why have I never seen any of you in these?" Hunter shrugged.

"All the Clones were given dress uniforms, just in case we needed them. But, when are we ever gonna need them? Top Brass, sure. But not us."

"Please, Hunter, please put it on for me? Pretty please?" He snorted as you batted your eyelashes at him. He unclipped the armour plating and slipped the jacket on over his blacks, buttoning it up and straightening the collar. Your mouth went dry. He was handsome anyway, they all were, but now he was gorgeous.

"Oh wow…" He smirked.

“Yeah? Like it?” You nodded.

“Gods, you can command me anytime wearing that…” You flushed at his mischievous smile, made more so by his tattoo. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Yeah? You’d probably take a hazing too.” You laughed at that.

“I’d take anything from you if you wore that while doing it.” Another voice punctured the heat building between you.

"You gonna strike a pose for us, Sarge?" Of course the others would come back at that moment, just as you were ready to jump his bones. Hunter snorted at Wrecker, shucking the jacket off and folding it back up.

"Just showing off for the lady." He winked at you. There was a glint in his eye that said he could smell the effect it had had on you.

"Well next time, do it somewhere more… private." Crosshair's smirk told you that he had noticed your reaction as well. Hunter smirked at you, promise glinting in his eyes.

"Oh don’t worry. We will…"

The sound of boots echo through the otherwise silent hold, making you startle out of your thoughts. You want to look over your shoulder at the approaching party, biting your cheek to stop yourself. You gulp as the steady pace of the footsteps slows.

"My, my, what a lovely sight you make Private. At ease." Hunter's voice is rough and smokey, stirring the heat in your belly. You can't help the small sigh of relief as you're finally allowed to move out of the rigid attention into a little less rigid parade rest. Legs spread and arms loosely held behind your back, you feel a little more stable. You jump a little as the hard tip of the cane is dragged down your back. The 'tut' makes you swallow nervously.

"Don't move, or there will be consequences. Understood?" The cane taps meaningfully against the small of your back. You shiver.

"Yes, Sergeant." You feel the warmth of his body through your fatigues as he steps up close behind you. You bite down on the gasp as a large hand draws itself around your waist to squeeze your backside. You can't stop the whine when it slithers around to cup your groin.

"Is this turning you on, Private? I can smell it. I'll bet you're dripping wet already, aren't you? Filthy girl." You stumble as his words lance heat through you and his fingers pressed against your core. Hunter pulls back and finally walks around in front of you. Oh, he has that frown on his face, made all the more intimidating by the half skull tattoo. The tattoo is a stark contrast to the dress uniform he's wearing. Gods, but he's hot in that. The slate grey and the silver buttons and the black trousers with bright accents and the shiny calf hugging black boots, all of it is just… smoldering.

A sharp crack of the cane against his boot brings you hurtling back to reality.

His eyes are boring into you, hard. Oh, he’d been saying something.

"Wake up, Private!" he barks at you. You flinch at the harshness of his voice and blush in embarrassment.

"Yes sir. Sorry sir." He sighs and shakes his head.

"Need to get you focussed on the here and now! Twenty push ups, on the double! Drop!" You hurry to comply, all the while trying to ignore the burning of his stare on your backside. The first ten come easy enough, but your arms are starting to feel like jelly and your legs feel like lead from standing so long.

"You call those push ups? You look like you're fucking the floor!" You whine again, trying to straighten your posture, gasping as the cane strikes against your backside.

"Get your ass in the air!" Sweat is dripping from your forehead, your arms are shaking underneath you. Another strike lands on your clothed ass, making you yelp and collapse from the suddenness of it.

"Pathetic! On your feet, Private!" You lift yourself on shaking arms and heavy legs, yelping when the cane makes contact again. A hand roughly grabs the collar of your fatigues, dragging you up.

"Look at you, worn out from twenty kriffing push ups! You're pathetic, aren't you?" The words make you flush in humiliation, even as arousal gathers in your belly.

"Y-yes, Sergeant." Your voice is a whimper. It's only as he drags your top over your head that you realise he hadn't let go of your collar. He flings it over his shoulder, looking you up and down.

"Well, at least you have a couple of redeeming features." He reaches up and roughly squeezes a clothed breast, pinching a nipple under the band. You gasp, trying to stand still. He pulls back and circles you.

"Arms forward!" You do as ordered, holding your arms out straight. And then you gulp as he lays the cane over your hands. "That does not move. Got it?" You swallow and try to quell your tremble.

"Y-yes Sergeant." He moves behind you, dragging his hands down your sides.

"After that display, you need to work on the strength in your arms." You whimper.

"Y-yes Sergeant. Understood sir." He grinds his hips against your backside, making you feel how hard he is through his uniform. You shiver at the feeling, your arms shaking with strain.

"Kriffing hells, what you do to me. I could bend you over and fuck you right now." Your ears burn with the heat of his words, shaking as he reaches around to unbutton your fatigue pants. He inhales deeply, growling in your ear.

"I can smell your arousal, Private. You'd let me do anything right now, wouldn't you? Just as long as you get off." You whimper again. Your arms are aching, the cane rattling as your limbs shake.

"Please, Sergeant." He tuts at you.

"You're gonna have to earn that right, mesh'la . I'm still disappointed by that display." He shoves his hand into your pants and underwear, roughly stroking your clit, making you cry out.

"Maker, you're so wet. Who knew being hazed could make you so horny?" He quickens his pace, dragging you moaning towards the edge. The cane rolls along your arms as you jerk at the feeling. You shift your arms, trying to keep it in place, but that proves to be the wrong idea. You watch with wide eyes as it over-balances and tips to the floor. The clatter it makes is loud, echoing around the hold. All movement stops, time freezes. You gulp. Hunter heaves a long, drawn out sigh and pulls away.

"Oh, Private. You were warned." You tremble.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant."

"Not yet, you're not." He grabs you by the nape of your neck, marching you towards a crate and forcing you to bend over it. He almost tears your pants from you in his haste to get them off. He grabs your arms and forces them behind your back, pinning them with one hand and untying his bandana with the other. Hunter quickly and roughly ties the red fabric around your wrists.

"You can't do something as simple as hold a cane, you don't get to use your arms. Now stay there!" You shake as he leaves you, quivering with excitement and arousal when you hear the scrape of the cane along the durasteel floor as he picks it up. You jolt when he strokes the tip over your ass.

"Your inability to execute a worthy push up and your apparent lack of ability to remain still under pressure has earned you ten stripes. I expect you to count them out. Every. Single. One. Understood?" You gulp and nod.

"Y-yes sir." The first strike falls without warning, and you yelp at its sting.

"O-one," you gasp. Followed by another and another and another.

"T-two… thre-ee… four!..." By five, your mind has fogged and everything seems distant, with the exception of Hunter's hand on your back and the kiss of the cane on your cheeks. You can't even remember counting.

A particularly strong strike drags your breath away.

"E-eight!" Tears are spilling down your cheeks as the sting of the cane spreads fire through you, threatening to set you aflame. Another strike, more fire. You're slick with your arousal, feel it pooling between your thighs. Desperate need fills you.

"N-ni-ine! Please, Sergeant!"

"One more, there's a good girl." You cry out the ten, instantly slumping over the crate and panting for breath. Hunter sets the cane down beside you, stroking your back gently, and palming your burning backside.

"Ssh, good girl. You did so well, Private. My good girl." He bends over you, kissing your tear-stained cheeks, and then your parted lips. You whine into the gentle, passionate kiss. "What do you want for your reward?" You take a shaky breath.

"Please, Sergeant, I want to suck you." You can hear him breathe deeply through his nose, and you know that he's taking in the scent of your blistering arousal.

"You're so sweet, Private. So eager to please your Sergeant. All right then, on your knees." He goes to remove his dress coat. You blink up at him with wide eyes.

"Please, sir, leave it on." He quirks an eyebrow, flashing his trademark grin at you.

"You really like me in the uniform, don’t you sweetheart?" You nod eagerly. He chuckles softly, stroking a finger along your cheek.

"My, you are a kinky little thing, aren't you. Alright, I'll leave it on. Now, come and get your reward." He unfastens his now tented dress trousers and pushes them and his boxers down just past his hips, his erection springing out to greet you. You lick your lips and lean forward, sucking him down as best as you can without the use of your hands.

"Karking hells… " you hear him grit out as you suckle on him and bob your head, tasting the tang of precome on your tongue. You pull off him, lapping at his leaking head with kitten licks, wide eyes watching his face. He's watching you with smokey hooded eyes, growling low in his throat as you lick the throbbing vein on the underside. He strokes a hand through your hair, gently fisting it on top of your head and pulling you forward onto him again. You go willingly, sucking and humming at his taste in the way you know he likes.

"Dank farrik! I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that." You do it again, earning a hard yank on your hair and your head forced back. His teeth are bared and he looks positively feral with a wild glint in his golden eyes. His erection is jutting out from his body, gleaming with your saliva.

"I told you, I'm not gonna last. Bend over the crate." You do as told, wiggling your ass in the air in a tease. He spanks you once and kneels behind you. You hear the whisper of vibrosteel being unsheathed and then feel the cold of a blade on your hips.

"Stay still." He doesn't need to tell you twice. You gasp as it makes quick work of the fabric of your panties, and again when he yanks the ruined fabric off you. You whimper and wiggle in anticipation.

"Kriff, you're soaking wet cyar'ika ." You've both dropped out of your roles, but neither of you care. Not when he presses into you with such urgency and starts pounding into you. The position is perfect for him to hit that spot deep inside you, making you shout with every thrust of his hips.

You're both close.

He reaches around you as he grunts and gasps, roughly circling your clit again. You pant and gasp and whine and shout as the coil tightens in your belly.

"Please don't stop, sir, please don't stop!"

"Not planning on it. Come on, sweetheart. Come for me." That's all you need to send you careening over the edge and into the abyss, screaming as you fall apart.

Hunter isn't far behind you, his grip on your hips bruising as he slams into you once, twice, thrice and comes with a shout. You shudder and groan as he swells and releases, flooding you. He thrusts a few more times, just to draw it out and torment you both, before finally collapsing on top of you. He pants harshly for breath, planting gentle kisses over your back and shoulders. He unties the bandana from your wrists, making them flop uselessly to your sides, and uses it to mop his sweaty brow. You both hiss as he pulls out of you and you moan when he uses the bandana to clean you up. You blush at the thought of him wearing it again, and wonder if he'll smell both of you on it every time he does.

"You ok, sweetheart? I didn't go too rough on you did I?" You turn around and drop into his arms. He dips his head and captures your lips in a gentle, loving kiss, wrapping his arms around you. You sigh when he pulls back, snuggling into his warm chest.

"I liked it." He chuckles, stroking a hand over your ass. You whimper at the slight sting.

"Gonna be marked for a bit there, mesh'la . You'll probably feel it every time you sit down." You groan at the thought. He reaches around behind the crate, producing a blanket and a kit he'd stashed there beforehand. You don't pay attention, brain still foggy, as he opens the kit one-handed, popping the cap off something. You whine as he strokes gentle fingers over the welts on your backside, feeling the slight cold and smelling the sweet scent of the bacta. You sigh as it eases the sting almost immediately. He then flicks open the blanket, wrapping it around you and lifting you into his lap. You snuggle closer to him, relishing in his warm embrace. Hunter kisses the top of your head, gently shaking your shoulder.

"Come on sweetheart, don't fall asleep just yet. I've gotta take care of you now." He pulls out a small bag of candies and a waterpack, feeding them to you and smiling as you happily murmur at the sweet flavour, sipping the water.

"You did so well, cyar'ika . I'm so proud of you. You’re so good. My good girl." You hum contentedly as he praises you, slowly bringing you back down from your high, your eyes slipping closed.

"I love you, Hunter," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you, cyar’ika . Get some sleep. I'm right here." You mumble and murmur, something about how much you love the uniform and can he wear it all the time.

You don't hear his response as sleep finally claims you.

@kaminocasey @stardustbee @moonstrider9904 @grinningnexu @nxctuaryninetythree @botherbother-blog

#Hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #smutty smut smut #please heed warnings #reblogs are love #also #if anyone who is really good at art would like to draw Hunter in the uniform described #or any of our bois #please feel free #I would love to see it

[rosicheeks]

🥹💖

#well to my dear anonymous cashapp tip #thank you so much 🥺 #if you ever want to come forward and join my snap or get some audios or just have me tell you how thankful I am #please feel free #i promise I’m not that scary #(honestly I don’t think I’m scary at all?) #but yeah #at least I hope you know I appreciate it so fucking much #I’m off to my parents but feel free to send me an ask/dm and I’ll thank you when I get home 💖 #shut up rosie

[l-m-n-o-ps]

So I’m kinda tempted to write a batfam fic because I have An Idea That Won’t Stop Poking Me. It’d be hurt/comforty and basically involves Tim using his eidetic memory to totally earn his World’s Best Detective mug by figuring out the mystery that is some of the trauma and self-flagellation that Dick does his very best to bury deep deep inside and never let anyone see (and especially not his little brothers).

The Problem? I feel like this fic would be a bit beyond my skills - above my pay grade, so to speak. I’ve written like 3 fics, only 2 of them finished, none in this fandom, and all a long long time ago (like, over a decade; they were posted by accounts I no longer have to sites that no longer exist). And the fic seems to insist in being written with a kinda complex structure that would involve seeing all the scenes where the “clues” are found, and then re-seeing them as Tim thinks back after he realizes Something Is Up, searching his memory for more clues. And I’m woefully thin on familiarity with the canon, and especially when it comes to Tim. But the fic wants to be written from his POV, of course, fm. It also seems to want to be called “(Re)collect and (Re)coil”, for reasons stemming from both the structure and subject matter.

#dick grayson #tim drake #fic idea #nightwing #Red Robin #screaming into the void #probably also spamming tags with stuff no one wants to read #does it still count as above my pay grade when fanfic is free? #above my XP points maybe? #fic idea: free to a good home #like seriously #if any more capable author wants to run with this #please feel free #batfam

[askmalal]

Is the Emporer an Avatar of yours? Could have fooled me if not.

I apologize to the Little Mortal who wrote this. My mortal scribe dictated my response and posted it... at which point Tumblr promptly buried it somewhere, where even I cannot find it... Perhaps it has gone to the upper heavens, perhaps it has fallen into Oblivion. And perhaps somewhere Nuffle is using it in a poorly constructed craft project.

So, I shall answer again.

I would like very much to answer in the affirmative. The delight I could take in such a thing. The way I would rub it into the faces of my "peers." But no. Unlike others, some of whom use this social media platform, I regret to tell you that I do not take credit for things have not done. That random blog down the street doesn't have its own collection of Gloriana class battleships, the one around the corner written by an "ordinary Imperial Guardsman" never "arm wrestled Ferrus Manus and won," and I regret to say that the Emperor is not mine.

(Scribe notes here that The Dark Father is in a snarky mood today, and apologizes on his behalf...)

The Emperor is, of course, not a being of his own making. A surfeit of the Blessed sacrificed themselves in order to create a being with the foresight to unite humanity and, I am sorry to say, "save the galaxy" from the forces of Chaos.

(Which would be fine, if Khorne and I weren't the only ones who represented marginally chaotic concepts in the modern era. But I digress...)

The point is that the Emperor is who he is entirely as a matter of the sacrifices of others and, subsequently, his arrogant denial of those responsibilities in order to elevate himself to godhead - something that was never intended for him - sort of soured the whole deal. It sounds like a delicious thing to do, destroying the Gods of Order from the inside, and by Ishtar's warm and bouncy boobies I'd love to claim I had something to do with that, but I certainly did not. At least not directly. Perhaps he read something, picked something up.

We did have a meeting at Molech. It was not fruitful.

Fortunately, my meeting with Horus absolutely was....

And then, of course, Horus absolutely cocked that up, too. Because the only one who could be more arrogant than a self-elevated Hittite perpetuual cosplaying as a god would of course be the one among his hundreds of children to demand that he be daddy's favorite.

My gift to the Emperor is not forgotten, however. Khorne gave his sons bloodlust beyond reason. Slaanesh tempted their base nature. Tzeentch gave them a taste for forbidden knowledge. Nurgle violated their purity of purpose.

Mine was nothing so fanciful. But when they were done, all I had to do was to whisper the word "Doubt."

Given the right push, even the most powerful of mortals will destroy themselves. Hell, four of my siblings prove that immortals are just as capable of it.

I thank you for your exceptional question, Little Mortal. And a blessing: you will not be first against the wall when the revolution comes.

-M.

#ask malal #malice #malal #seriously that was a great question #chaos gods #dark gods #the warp #chaos philosophy #ask me questions #please feel free #horus heresy #warhammer 40k #warhammer roleplay

[muji-milk]

diff anon, but i’m wondering if the immediate referral to (potential) medical service has anything to do with the fact that access to that service is related to why many young trans people attempt suicide. the medical community knows the statistics and knows that it’s life saving care for many young trans people, so even just referring them there could be life saving. that doesn’t necessarily negate your point about needing more counselors involved in the process, though. perhaps there should be psychological counseling during the waiting process. i’d imagine that might lead them to be vulnerable to the not-always-impartial whim of a psychologist though. (also i’ve been following you since your gender confusion era and even *I* nearly unfollowed you at first because putting ‘affirmation’ in quotes is big terf energy. figured i’d give you a chance to explain.)

I put affirmation in quote marks just to emphasize the word, not to show a disbelief or dismissal of the service. I agree that it can and has saved lives.

However, I also think that viewing my words as terf energy is....ridiculous. TERF rhetoric is a very specific thing, but this acronym is used so frequently to quiet someone who raises a concern about gender issues that doesn't immediately align with 100% support for affirmation, that it has become diluted. We should reserve terf for what it is - some chronically online feminists who do not believe trans people are sane/real and would rather ignore/eradicate them. A terf is not anyone who wants to discuss shortcomings in the current medical approach to dysphoria. The more we bandy around a word like terf when someone attempts to discuss an alternative view, the more people are going to give up and go "yeah well then i am a terf". And we get nowhere.

Anyway!

I do agree the waiting process is flawed. Even when someone is a fully prepared and intentional, they still just have to wait for sometimes 1-2 years; and in the meantime there's nothing really provided. I think that this waiting period can be what drives some people to a more dysphoric state, because their desired outcome is almost in their grasp and they may get tunnel vision towards it.

I also think that the constant reference to affirmation service as 'lifesaving' puts so much pressure on everyone; the clinics, the young patients, the parents of young patients. It makes it look like the only option if you want to be happy and not die. And if you don't send your child there, they will die. You know what was life saving for me? Not transitioning. Spending lots of time thinking and realising things about myself. Going to counseling to talk through other things unrelated to gender. Getting out of my solitary bubble.

But, big but; because I never formally began the medical transition process (only socially) I am not a measurable statistic. I never became a patient to a clinic, so my experience is not traceable. Those who medically transition are a quantifiable group. Those who commit suicide are also a quantifiable group. We can use these 2 data sets to show the correlation; affirmation = lifesaving. But there's is no data on the amount of people like me who went through phases and changed their minds and are happier because they came out of that phase rather than following through. It shouldn't be controversial and 'terfy' to tell young people "sometimes it is just a phase" - phases are valid and help us discover things about ourselves, and the end result after the phases can be something we didn't expect.

So to constantly present 'affirmation' as the only lifesaver creates very loaded ideas in the individual's mind; you feel this is the route to your true self, you see older people saying they wish they'd done it sooner, you read encouraging statistics about people's life after transition, and you read depressing statistics about those who kill themselves because their family wont let them access transition when they're a teen; and then you have to sit around waiting for 2 years, getting more desperate to reach that 'lifesaver' with all this info in your head potentially blinding you to other possibilities of growth and expression and the lives you could lead if it does turn out to be a phase.

#tldr #making dysphoric youth feel like their 2 options are transition or death #is not the bees knees frankly #and perhaps that rigid division of 2 paths contributes heavily to dysphoria and subsequently suicide #sorry that was so long! i do genuinely want to have these discussions and no one should feel like they can't #say or ask me something in response to my points #please feel free

[the-littlest-kojin]

I would love to interact more with you on a personal level. Aside from how interesting your characters or writing might be, it feels like you are an easygoing person with an interesting personality.

[Invitatory lack of response]

#ooc #opinion ask game #my dms are open #please feel free