toki a! We're your local emotional support dragons, with way too many names to list here. Autistic Aspec Aussie Alterhuman, among other things.
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I realized long ago that shit just fucking happens. oddly the shit fucking happening is distributed very unevenly among the general population which I am sure is due to a variety of factors. and also due to some people having God's Terrible Eye upon them
If you don't like non-con, this setting is not for you.
If you don't like dubcon, this setting is not for you.
If you don't enjoy forced drugging, intox play, and being treated as lesser, this setting is not for you.
If you aren't generally down with the idea that changing a person to help them be happier and less miserable, even if this means drastically changing them against their will, is a good thing in a fantasy setting, HDG might not be for you.
And that's fine. It's not for everyone. It's aggressively, emphatically not for everyone. It's niche, it's weird, and we're quite happy to stay that way. There's nothing wrong with reading HDG, bouncing off it, and going, "Hm, not my thing".
That said, if your response is to explicitly seek out consent in the non-con setting; if your response is to complain when the consent gets even slightly dubious (shoutouts to the weirdos whining about Good Sensory, a fic which is and continues to be as consensual as it is possible to be within the world and framework of HDG); if your response is to rate fics based on whether or not someone gets their mind erased...
...maybe don't? Maybe go find a different setting and writing community. Hell, make your own. HDG is probably not for you, and it definitely doesn't need you to "fix" it.
We're over here in our sandbox playing with toys like disempowerment, dehumanization, and unconditional love and care regardless of whether you think you need or deserve it. If that's not your jam, there's countless other sandboxes with countless other toys to play in. Find one of them.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to slow-boiling a Terran so hard she doesn't realize how few choices she truly has left, and making it so much fun for her she doesn't really care.
Some of the responses I've seen to this post accusing it of being gate-keepy are a little bit concerning tbh. It's true and valid that not every story has to an emotionally complicated almost-nightmare to work (there is a long tradition of fluff fics in HDG, after all, and the vast, vast majority of what's written is on some level wish fulfilment), but the non-consent really truly is inescapable – maybe it's worth spelling out some of the reasons why.
The Affini Compact does not permit you to suffer if you could be helped. Its ethos is to give you what you need, regardless of whether or not you want it. This is obviously true in rebel capture stories where the non-consent is explicit, but it's not only true there. There's no level of "good behavior" where the Compact will respect your wishes or boundaries. vis-a-vis suffering.
If you're an independent and you're struggling, you can expect any affini in your life to take action about it. That doesn't just mean kicking down your door and collaring you. It might mean having a wellness check called on you (a not-at-all-subtle allusion to a thing that happens in real life, spun to be less horrifying but no less an invasion of your privacy). It might mean the affini in your life make it a minor project of theirs to nudge you toward changes that will make you better, and keep updated on your progress with those changes – they may be as blunt or as light-touch as the author prefers, but they're still sticking their vines into your personal life, and no amount of boundary setting is going to keep them out.
If you're a floret, you've signed a contract assenting to a life of very intimate physical and emotional care (which is not necessarily sexual, but probably involves things that are about as intimate and vulnerable), and that contract has an explicit provision saying that your affini can change your contract at any time for any reason without your approval. That isn't something you can consent to, definitionally – even if your affini never exercises that provision (something I really haven't seen much of). Consent requires perfect or neary perfect information about what you're consenting to, and a domestication contract frustrates that by design.
It's important to keep these things in mind when you read – as I said, HDG trends fluffier than a lot of largely transfem serial web fiction out there, but like a lot of what's in that broader space, its themes are still rooted in coercion and manipulation that in the context of a real relationship would be toxic.
Cadence's post isn't bemoaning a lack of "edginess" in HDG. Fluff fics have always been here, and it's extremely common for humans and affini to agree to things in ways that are definitely shaped like consent and good faith negotiation, including a lot of beloved stories.
Cadence's post is about a specific phenomenon that happens with concerning regularity, where someone discovers the setting and mainlines a bunch of stories without recognizing that the stories they're reading are noncon/dubcon for one reason or another, and while I'm sensitive to concerns of gatekeeping this phenomenon has a bunch of downstream consequences that aren't good for anyone involved.
This hypothetical user will ask for more stories similar to the one they read, then be shocked and put off when they recognize some of those stories are non-consent.
Recommending stories to this user will be impossible, because they don't have the language to articulate their actual preferences except through a private definition of "consent."
The setting will become a minefield for them, because the idea of the setting they internalized from misreading the small pocket of stories they liked doesn't reflect reality – more of the stories they find will hurt them than not, and they'll fall into a toxic love/hate relationship where they can't put HDG down despite being emotionally hurt by it more oftent than not.
They'll evangelize for HDG in places where it is extremely not appropriate to do so, like stream chats and social media comment sections. Remember, they think they're just reading transfem erotica, not problematic consent and kink – they're recommending this to people who are not looking for problematic kink, and may not be looking for anything in the vicinity of smut. "Stories belong to their readers" has to have limits – don't go recommending smut, even ace smut, in contexts where it is not being asked for.
Users who do that previous bullet also tend to be more conscious of their asynchronous view. The label "noncon truther" is sometimes used as a derogatory for them – they're often under the belief that what they're reading isn't noncon, either because the character on the receiving end wants or needs what happpens to them, or more problematically out of syllogistic logic like "Nonconsent is bad, I like this story, and I don't like bad things, ∴ this story is consensual."
Both of these rationalizations are dangerous.
The latter is a form of moral puritanism that's fertile soil for conflict-prone behavior, and an especially caustic one due to how it's built on layers of denial. The notion that the thing they like is nonconsent or otherwise problematic is an ego threat to them – the way they see themselves would have to change if they came to believe the thing they like is nonconsensual, and that underlying cognitive dissonance can manifest in seeming conflict-seeking behavior. They may frequently get into heated arguments with others, driven by a psychological need to reaffirm that they don't like The Bad Thing, and so They Aren't Bad. Rarely, they may engage in harassing behavior trying to root The Bad Thing out of this thing they love, as though it's an insidious corruption rather than a foundational element it was constructed on.
As for those who believe that it can't be noncon/dubcon if the character on the receiving end wants or needs what happpens to them on a subconscious level, I really hope I don't have to spell out why that's a dangerous belief to hold.
Nobody wants to take your HDG fluff from you (if they do I'll fight them), but we all need to recognize that whatever is happening in that fluff, it is not actually consensual. That's fine. You're allowed to like it. The violation of consent and denial of boundaries in order to provide help those boundaries are set up to reject is often the point.
As a writer in the setting, a member of the community, and a feminist, I just really want everyone to understand what they've gotten into here. This is not what consent looks like. This is stuff you should not try at home. Please stay safe. And please don't flame out in someone's comments section because you're overwhelmed by the cognitive dissonance of liking something you've built your identity on despising – nobody deserves that.
As a corollary (definitely not an excuse to tack things on I only thought of after making breakfast), I argue HDG's nonconsent is fundamental to its disability allegory, even when that allegory is being reproduced by someone who isn't consciously aware of it.
Domestication contracts and the downright eldritch nature of affini bureaucracy is a pretty clear shot at paperwork and legal situations some disabled people have to deal with, signing agreements to things that you could not possibly read in the time allotted and which have massive caveats for you and loopholes for the other party.
The state of being a floret is an allegory for conservatorships and institutionalizations, two things inflicted on people with some disabilities that involves a total power exchange that the subject has little to no say in.
These things are "consensual" according to the law, but clearly not consensual according to any meaningful definition of the term. You can't consent to an unknown. You can't consent to a situation where your consent can't be revoked. You can't consent to a power exchange where the other party is empowered to change the terms at any time without your consent.
And not everyone who writes in HDG is conscious of its underlying disability allegory, but it's baked so deeply into its foundations as a microgenre that it's pretty hard not to reproduce it in some fashion.
I'm sensitive to the idea of not gatekeeping something that brings joy, but when we're saying HDG is necessarily nonconsent, we aren't making a statement about what should be written. We're making a statement about what has and is being written – a relationship where the dominant has total legal authority over the submissive in a way the submissive can't escape is not consensual, regardless of how it's tagged. No level of fluffiness changes that.
The more I actively engage with my own disability and try to get diagnosed and medicated and stuff instead of just living with it in misery, the more I understand what Human Domestication Guide is actually about.
It's not just porn, it's not just kink, it's not just wish fulfillment.
In my eyes, above all, HDG is a disability narrative. It's a world where no matter what, you will be taken care of, and you will be comfortable. Most of all, do you don't have to do it yourself. "Oh but what about the cg/l stuff? That's what the rest of the kink stuff grew out of and it's not disabi-" Nothing has ever made me want to go back to being a kid like being disabled has.
Ideally when you're a kid, you'll have a support network of adults who care for you. Parents, teachers, doctors, etc. When you have something wrong with you, your teacher or whoever notices it and tells your parent "hey something's wrong with your kid." Your parents calls your doc and says "hey something's wrong with my kid" and makes an appointment. Doc take a look at you, says "hey this is what's wrong with your kid, take this medicine and it'll get better." You have no agency in this process, you are cared for without your consent.
One of my memories from when I was a kid was going into the doc's for something, and then while we were there, being told I was going to get some immunization shots. I was normally really good with shots, but being surprised by it, I couldn't handle it, and I bawled and thrashed, and begged not to get poked. But I was immunized that day, and it was for my own good, despite my resistance.
I'm an adult now. If someone notices something wrong with me, they either don't comment to not be rude, or they tell me. I have to talk to my doc and say "hey something's wrong with me." I have to take myself to appointments, schedule my own followups, find a specialist to get myself a referal to. I have to sit around in waiting rooms by myself. No one will hold my hand while I'm getting my blood drawn, or a chunk of my skin taken for a biopsy.
HDG is about care, being given the care you need, without you having to do the work for it, even if you don't want it. Everything else rises from that.
The Affini are incredibly powerful seeming beings in hard to understand ways who make efforts to communicate with Terrans and adapt to them while also often speaking to each other in ways Terrans cannot understand.
They consider that Terrans cannot truly be independent most of the time, and forcefully become the legal guardians of Terrans and that is normal.
They take care of Terrans whether they want it or not, for their own good. They have specific doctors for Terrans too.
I had not until just now realized how much the Affini are to the Terrans what adults are to children.
Like yes ofc I knew cg/l was deeply embedded. But Domestication is analogous to adoption, the language stuff can be likened to how adults usually speak to kids vs to each other, which at certain ages will often mean the kid understands what adults say to them but not what we say to each other. Adults might seem extraordinary, superhuman, able to do anything including change the weather or summon things out of thin air, to a kid.
All this stuff is written into how the Affini are. Every aspect of their interaction with Terrans is filtered through a lens that is very very similar to the one through which human adults look at children.
This is super messy and probably could be better put but yeah, I just realized this and needed to put the words to virtual paper.
I've been working on another post specifically about domestication and how even in instances of humans keeping pets, the pets tend to be more childlike compared to wild or feral counterparts. We often even call the act of getting a pet adoption.
The more I actively engage with my own disability and try to get diagnosed and medicated and stuff instead of just living with it in misery, the more I understand what Human Domestication Guide is actually about.
It's not just porn, it's not just kink, it's not just wish fulfillment.
In my eyes, above all, HDG is a disability narrative. It's a world where no matter what, you will be taken care of, and you will be comfortable. Most of all, do you don't have to do it yourself. "Oh but what about the cg/l stuff? That's what the rest of the kink stuff grew out of and it's not disabi-" Nothing has ever made me want to go back to being a kid like being disabled has.
Ideally when you're a kid, you'll have a support network of adults who care for you. Parents, teachers, doctors, etc. When you have something wrong with you, your teacher or whoever notices it and tells your parent "hey something's wrong with your kid." Your parents calls your doc and says "hey something's wrong with my kid" and makes an appointment. Doc take a look at you, says "hey this is what's wrong with your kid, take this medicine and it'll get better." You have no agency in this process, you are cared for without your consent.
One of my memories from when I was a kid was going into the doc's for something, and then while we were there, being told I was going to get some immunization shots. I was normally really good with shots, but being surprised by it, I couldn't handle it, and I bawled and thrashed, and begged not to get poked. But I was immunized that day, and it was for my own good, despite my resistance.
I'm an adult now. If someone notices something wrong with me, they either don't comment to not be rude, or they tell me. I have to talk to my doc and say "hey something's wrong with me." I have to take myself to appointments, schedule my own followups, find a specialist to get myself a referal to. I have to sit around in waiting rooms by myself. No one will hold my hand while I'm getting my blood drawn, or a chunk of my skin taken for a biopsy.
HDG is about care, being given the care you need, without you having to do the work for it, even if you don't want it. Everything else rises from that.
The Affini are incredibly powerful seeming beings in hard to understand ways who make efforts to communicate with Terrans and adapt to them while also often speaking to each other in ways Terrans cannot understand.
They consider that Terrans cannot truly be independent most of the time, and forcefully become the legal guardians of Terrans and that is normal.
They take care of Terrans whether they want it or not, for their own good. They have specific doctors for Terrans too.
I had not until just now realized how much the Affini are to the Terrans what adults are to children.
Like yes ofc I knew cg/l was deeply embedded. But Domestication is analogous to adoption, the language stuff can be likened to how adults usually speak to kids vs to each other, which at certain ages will often mean the kid understands what adults say to them but not what we say to each other. Adults might seem extraordinary, superhuman, able to do anything including change the weather or summon things out of thin air, to a kid.
All this stuff is written into how the Affini are. Every aspect of their interaction with Terrans is filtered through a lens that is very very similar to the one through which human adults look at children.
This is super messy and probably could be better put but yeah, I just realized this and needed to put the words to virtual paper.
I've been working on another post specifically about domestication and how even in instances of humans keeping pets, the pets tend to be more childlike compared to wild or feral counterparts. We often even call the act of getting a pet adoption.
Briony's body swayed gently back and forth in the warm breeze. E took a slow, steady breath in, feeling the webbing of the harness clutch eir body and press into em as e inhaled. Eir legs tensed and relaxed as e tested the strength of the silk frogtie sleeves that e already knew were too strong to break. Eir hands wiggled behind em for purchase on something, anything to free emself, but it was no use when they were wrapped in tight mitts and hooked close to each other.
E couldn't see anything, not with the adhesive blindfold covering eir eyes, but e knew the view of the lake was lovely in the afternoon, and the woods around it were just the kind of place a person - no, a xenosophont, a pet - would not be easily seen. Even with the bright spots on eir half-insectile moth-firefly body lit up fiercely with eir flustered excitement, nobody would find em unless they knew where e was.
E could have called for help, of course, but what was the use of that? This was the Affini Compact. If help was coming, it would have already been here. If Briony was strung up in a loosely-bound, helpless package, right out in a public space, helpless and squirming and unable to escape, well… maybe there was a good reason for that.
Maybe e was tied up and dangling from a tree because e liked that. Maybe calling for help wouldn't work, because in their cores, the Affini Compact knew that it was good for their pets to be helpless.
Maybe calling for help wouldn't work mostly because of the thick flowery gag with puffy pink petals that had expanded to lodge itself firmly into eir mouth, preventing more than a few muffled moans from escaping eir throat.
And maybe calling for help wouldn't work, because eir Owner was away. E felt the gentle, pulsing reassurance of eir Owner's love resting cozily in eir spine, but for today, Owner was occupied with clerk's meetings. It had offered to bring em with, but that would have involved far, far too much affini attention. So e had the day all to emself. It felt weird, not fearing its intrusion into eir every moment. But it did give em a chance to try something e hadn't ever had a chance to try by emself.
Maybe nobody was coming to help, because e had done this to emself.
E twisted eir body back and forth, just a little too much, feeling that slow slippery heat filling eir body with embarrassed pleasure. This was by eir own design. E wanted this. E let emself roll eir hips and chest in slow, torrid squirms, and hummed uselessly into eir gag, flexing eir hands in the mitts, pushing against soft silken restraints.
And for a while, e allowed emself to be stuck, captive to eir own desires, and squirming for an escape e knew e could never achieve.
At least, not until the timer on the harness let em go after a reasonable amount of time. Briony wasn't so cooked on the Compact that e would put emself into a predicament like this without knowing it would end somehow, after all. E wasn't-
Footsteps. E heard the faint, rhythmic rustle of feet on grass. Not an affini, e would have felt one's electrochemical core rhythms coming before e ever heard them.
"Mmmph?" e called out, as loud as the gag permitted. Whoever it was did not answer. E heard their footsteps stop, just to one side of em. "Mmmph. Mmm mm-km." E tried to wave with eir mitts to shoo the person away, but e couldn't quite manage it.
A hand touched Briony's protruding bug-butt, and e emitted a high-pitched squawk of alarm. "Mm-mm! Mm-mmm!" e exclaimed, shaking eir head back and forth vigorously.
"Shhhh," the voice whispered, and gently pet the top of eir rear end. Not sexual, not suggestive, just a comforting petting. E had lived in the Affini Compact enough to learn many different kinds of pets. Some were much more lascivious than others. This was just nice.
"Mmmmm?" e still mumbled, still partway horrified to know e had been found.
"You're safe, little bug. Safe, loved, and home, right?" the strangely familiar whisper replied. Briony felt fingers run through the short, soft fur along the back of eir thighs and eir sides where the harness wasn't gripping. E whimpered at the touch, and tension crept through eir body in waves from up in eir shoulders to down through eir toes.
"That's right. Just relax."
Briony's breath quickened and shallowed at the voice. But as the hands gently ran down eir back and sides, e couldn't help but loosen and relax into the gentle touch. There was no point in escape, and there was no point in alarm. If it was happening in the Affini Compact, it was good for em. There were no bad surprises, after all.
The hands reached eir head, and carded long, rounded nails through eir hair and into eir scalp. A shaky whine leaked out of eir throat, and e couldn't help but push eir head further into the touch.
E could smell the floret now. She smelled earthy, and musky, and heavy with coffee and pollen, and all too familiar. Wait.
"Mph Kph?!" e mumbled through the gag. "Mph Kph iffat ymm?"
"Hey buuuug." the voice giggled, and careful fingers peeled the blindfold off of Briony's eyes with a damp, tacky thwippp. "Enjoying yourself, are you?" Miss Keet Prosopis, Eighth Floret, beamed her wide smile at em. She was hunched over to put her face level with eir own, dark-haired, bronze-skinned, and full of joyful menace.
"Mmmph." Briony grimaced at eir best friend, pinnate, and fondest tormentor. "Mmphmmphmmph." E pushed at the gag in eir mouth, trying to call attention to it. Miss Keet, still beaming, teased the gag until its soft internal petals retracted and allowed her to pluck it, dripping, from Briony's mouth. "Augh. Thank you. But you're not supposed to be here, I wanted to… This is personal stuff you shouldn't be… here…"
"Why not?" she asked, sitting down on a bench-like flat root and lifting her loose floral companion dress from her legs. She wiped Briony's drool off of the flora-gag on her thigh, and Briony did not know how to feel about that.
"I like to do things on my own sometimes, you know," e said, trying to ignore how hot and squirmy eir body was feeling.
"Like tie yourself up and wriggle like a little bug in need of rescue?"
Briony's face flushed as e looked away.
"Yeah, even without your fucked-up spider owner, you like that."
"…it's… I… look, it's just…"
"You don't have to justify what you like or what you're into, Bri." She leaned forward and bumped her forehead into Briony's, smiling. "You know, though?"
"Know what?"
"It feels good to just give yourself up to it, doesn't it?" she said, touching eir cheek. "Even if you weren't a floret, I bet you'd still like this."
Briony couldn't quite muster the courage to look Miss Keet in the eyes to respond to that, but hesitantly, e nodded, and muttered, "I know. It's… yeah. It feels really good."
Miss Keet leaned back and pulled Briony's body forward with a loose strap of harness. She planted her lips on eir own, and kissed em, long and soft. She tasted like coffee and cherries, and e closed eir eyes without really intending to.
And then, before e could recover, she plopped the gag right back into eir mouth, where it blossomed into place in eir mouth. It now tasted of Miss Keet's sweat and body, and e knew exactly how e wished e didn't feel about that.
"Mmmphgh…"
"You like being a helpless little bug."
Cheeks burning and bugbutt glowing bright, Briony reluctantly nodded.
"Mmmmmm. And you like being stuck like that."
Briony closed eir eyes in embarrassment, and nodded.
The blindfold went back over eir eyes, and adhered snugly. The world darkened.
"And you know… I know you like being alone. But I also know you like being around friends."
Nod. Nod.
"So how would you feel about being rescued from being trapped and helpless?"
A giggle, followed by some strange vibrations through the suspension harness, and a familiar musical tone from far above. And then, a light swat on the butt that made Briony mewl in shock.
"'Cuz I just turned off your timer."
"Whmph?!" e groaned. "Whm whg… nnnn!"
"I'll be back later, little bug!"
E heard Miss Keet's footsteps in the grass, and her voice recede. E tried eir best to cry out after her, but it just made it harder to hear her leaving.
"Maybe an affini will rescue you from this predicament you put yourself in. Or maybe I'll be back in an hour or so, and I can rescue you. Probably that."
Briony sighed, partly in relief, and just a little in disappointment.
"Or maybe I'll be back when I feel like it, and you're ready to beg for rescue! Maybe I'll let you go free. Or maybe I'll take you home with me. We'll see!"
And e heard her laughter fall further and further away as she left Briony dangling from the tree bough, squirming uselessly for escape e knew e would never achieve.
It has been quite some time since I last posted on tumblr... Here's an hdg microfic. It's about a puppy floret meeting a very big and fat cat floret.
--
My mistress brought me to my faaaavorite J cafe today~ It’s all cute pastels and big plushies, perfect for playful pups like me!~
I love the lil fascinator toys they give us, so glowy and relaxing to look at like mistress’s eyes and, she even gave me a top up dose of my favorite Js before setting me loose I was feeling sooo snuggly and so so puppy.
I looove being puppy and nuzzling up on the floor and the walls, looking at all the fun toys and
…
And I saw something.
They were a short distance from where I was spending my afternoon playtime. At first it appeared in my bliss blurred vision as a blackish blob, but as they came into focus so did my mind. Determined to absorb every detail of this being.
They were gigantic. The size of my mistress, possibly larger, easily twice my own height. They were not just tall, but wide. Mattresses worth of pancake stacked rolls wobbled as they moved to the play area, the ground quivering as they took each step. Their sheer awe inspiring scale became ever more apparent as they drew near.
Paws. Soft squishy cat paws grabbed my sides and lifted me skyward. I was brought face to face with it. Bright green eyes sparkled like the in and out patterns of an entrancing biorhythm, surrounded by a sea of deep navy blue. All of it emerged from a sea of stars on their fluffy neck ring, erupting into a geyser of deep purple hair, finally peaking in a pair of pivoting triangular ears. Their mouth curled up to their stubby snout and sang from their chubby cheeks. “Hiii~ What’s your name?~”
A gentle tune rolled from their stomach, prompting, no, demanding my answer.
“I-I’m puppy~” I whimpered.
“You want snuggles puppy?” They were so warm.
“Uhuh.”
I floated into their belly, the organ determined to smother me in otherworldly comfort. It was so soft and fluffy,, and I-i was sinking and
it was so s-soft and it felt good t-to huggy and my tail is wagging i’m puppy. And i love kitty she’s really soft
Breathe in.
Such comfort was as of yet unknown to me, even in my many years spent in the paradise of the compact. I had snuggled up to beeple Rinians and what must have been hundreds of different affini at that point but never something so smothering, something so titanic in scope and inescapable in softness. She was rolling forward. Pressing her stomach into me, as I was rolled onto the floor. The entire world becomes absent save for this gurgling monolith.
And gurgles they were, the borborygmi rising and falling as planetary tides. I was a moon, pulling gently on the inside as I let the planet tease me, wave and greet me with a cacophony of digestive bliss. The smell of drugged pollen, gentle fruity scents wafting. Overwhelming. Overwhelming weight on top of me, but nothing was crushed because she was taking extra care to give me just enough room to breathe just enough force to lock me in perfect bliss. My mind is slipping through m-my paws…
I-i’m kittys special friend and she gives soft snuggly hugs and i wanna hug kitty forever and ever!~
…
“Go on, say it, you’re jealous~”
“I’ve just never seen a sophont like them, is all.” Two affini were seated at a table near the cat and dog cuddle sesh. Fresh fruits from all sorts of planets were plated on the larger one’s side. Their grin went toothy and wide, further prodding the smaller, purplish one.
“Just admit it. You think my floret is the best thing since beeple. I won’t tell!” The large one tossed a mango in the air and sliced it in twain with their tongue. “Care for part of this rotund orange thing?”
“I’ll stick to my tea…” The smaller one huffed. “And fine. Your floret is amazing and I’m curious about your process of turning an ordinary terran into such a wide cuddly thing.” Their tone admitted the jealousy they tried in vain to hide.
“Well, I had taken this terran’s fursona design and made several of my own improvements.” A splattering munch as their meal was devoured.”GULP. I had redistributed the weight here, and made some adjustments to the muscle mass and,” Orange sugary syrup spurted out as another mighty bite eviscerated the other half of the wayward fruit. “The key is all in the materials. Terran skin can be so, so much more than what is presented at a glance.” She slurped the sides of her draconic maw. “They have all the stuff they need to make their bodies into all sorts of things.”
“Fascinating. It’s a deep shame many terrans never got to explore this sort of thing before the implants came along. My puppy can just get lost for hours at a time in their fur.”
“You should see what mine does when I leave her alone…” Her gaze slides over to the side.
“S-SAM! YOU’RE GOING TO SUFFOCATE THAT POOR FLORET!~”
sometimes i wonder if femboy culture (itself largely recycled from transfem culture) is a psyop to convince repressed trans women to not actualize themselves and instead embrace their patriarchal role as a non-person who can be used as a sexual object and discarded freely.
of course men can be feminine (and lots of them should try doing that more honestly) but the way people try so hard to erase every instance of trans women existing in favor of "just being a femboy" to the point of violence combined with the recycling... suggests a whole second thing is going on
#that is a man who A: has tripped over his sword before and been laughed at by EVERY ELF IN RIVENDELL and is NOT going to do it again#and B: knows that he has more leg than anyone else in the room and is GOING TO USE IT BY GODS#he is COVERING GROUND with every step#he got that moniker of strider through HARD HONEST WORK (and very very big steps)#aragorn#lotr movies#viggo mortensen
#So basically. He runs like an actual real person would over uneven ground 😂#The Hollywood Run is pretty to watch sure but also takes place on a paved surface usually#There is no way to look dignified whilst running across lumpy bumpy ground down across a hill. Unless one is an actual gazelle#thankyou Mr. Viggo for that Real Human rep (saving @jonairadreaming's excellent tags because everyone who has ever tried running down an incline over uneven, possibly shifting, ground knows you try to get down there as fast as possible with the least amount of time of foot actually touching the ground and constantly being prepared to shift your weight to keep your balance. By the time the stones actually shift from your weight you already want to be two steps away)
you have to be careful reading too many things that are good/smart/well-written bc then you encounter something that isnt and you get confused like ? why didnt they just make this good ? were they stupid
Ryland Grace and his popularity as a character feels like such an important step in repairing the cultural tsunami left by the long running trope of every genius character needing to be an insufferable asshole to everyone in a ten mile radios about it.
Conversely, Eva Stratt is doing wonders for repairing and inspiring a appreciation for commanding women with dubious moral convictions who are fully willing to bend laws for the greater good without hesitation.
