@prettyneedybunny - Tumblr Blog

Posts

EDIT: THIS NEEDS TO BE UPDATED SO BAD. JUST HAVING EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION ABOUT IT. But this is no longer "strictly" an NSFW blog but rather the blog of the Navigator side of the Twin Star System, which does include plenty of NSFW stuff as well as anything else that interests them.

Hi! This is our nsfw sideblog \^-^/ We are 25 years old and won't interact with you if you don't have some kind of age above 18 visible in bio or pinned.

There are hard kinks on here! We subscribe to RACK and all posts are made in the context of roleplaying scenarios that are pre-negotiated, consensual, and exclusively between human adults. We are a system, but this blog is used by the following headmates:

Hare (he/they/she) – Main runner of this blog. Bratty, erratic switch. Bunny’s dom and mostly not interested in other subs, but really enjoys orchestrating scenes for Bunny with other people. Loves being dommed but won’t admit it (bratty) so I, Artemis, am writing it for them. Because they also want it badly enough that they know it has to be in here ;). They have a special interest in kink and sex and gender. Really good at making smutty daydreams.

Artemis (she/they/he) - Pleasure dom. (Theirs and yours). Caretaker. Loving and ruthless god of the others.

Bunny (any pronouns) – Subspace doll bunny; stone bottom/femme; cuntboy; obedience/service slut. Hare LOVES sharing them but is always there with them! And is very protective/possessive. Bunny regresses and goes mute very easy and switches with Hare a lot when overwhelmed. Unless Hare gives you permission otherwise, please be gentle and direct with Bunny. Word things simply and expect short answers, emojis, and keyboard smashes as a sign of enthusiastic communication. Even switching out often means they just got too excited to keep front, which often happens with new people it likes. Woops. <3

Ero/Nyx (he/they/it) - Service top + side + orchestrator of scenes. Internal hypnotist. Demisexual.

Primordial side of the system's blog is @wearehyphae

We’re attempting to be less of a lurker and actually interact with the extremely lovely people I see around and post some content ourselves! We really want to chat with folks (mutuals :pleading_face:), both friendly and with sexting/roleplaying on the table. Please be patient with us on responses, though! We are rife with physical and mental health problems and that has an impact on our ability to chat.

On that note: we are disabled/chronically ill (hEDS, POTS, MCAS, Celiac). This means we spend a lot of time in bed scrolling and touching :)

We are stoned a lot. Take note if drugs make you uncomfortable.

Kinks:

YES: pet play, bondage (rope/shibari and leather, I just love being tied up), sexual slavery, gentle discipline and protocol, dollification, conditioning, hole training, size difference, objectification, exhibitionism, a/b/o, cnc/rape play, kidnapping, degradation and praise (degraded as a person but praised as a slut, you know how it is), multiple penetration, gang bang, free use, object insertion/impalation, breeding/pregnancy, knotting, spanking/biting/hair pulling, pussy/clit torture (including impact play + bondage), overstim, somno, intox (especially weed), monsterfucking

Soft limits/you will see these things sometimes: Piss, vomit, orgasm control/denial, feminization/bimbofication, us topping/penetrating, fauxcest, age play, blood/knives, amputation/body modification

Please feel free to ask if you want to engage us in something under our soft limits, I really like many of them in the right circumstances!

Hard limits/things you won't see: scat, detrans,

#Hare #Bunny #Wolf #Artemis #needy tag

bloopityart

Doggy

qunari

I'll never forget my first pride.

I can't remember my actual age, but it was in the range of 10 to 13 I think. my parents had dragged me to a Pride festival, and walked across the street from the main event, across where the lines were drawn, to where a sea of people in red shirts that read "god has a better way" tried to drown out the celebration with speakers blasting christian music, and shouting and loud praying.

the leaders pulled all us kids to the side and gave us the spiel. they told us how the rainbow had been stolen from us, and that these people were tricked by the devil and just needed prayer, but that if we didn't save them, they were going to hell.

I rolled my eyes because I already didn't believe in god, and although I barely knew what being gay was, I knew my parents were usually on the Wrong side of things, and I shouldn't be siding with them.

"We aren't allowed over there if we're wearing the red shirts," the leaders told us, "so we're sending people over in secret without them so you can pass out tracts and pray for people. they won't talk to us, but they'll talk to the kids. does anyone want to volunteer?"

the people in red shirts disgusted me. the people on the other side of the line were cheering and having fun. I raised my hand.

we were supposed to go in groups with young adults, to make sure we were doing what we were supposed to be. I wandered off the minute I could and stood nervously at the edge of a crowd, watching on as people went by, happy and unbothered by the protests across the street. I felt a little pride myself in tricking the protestors into giving up a witness spot to me, when I was going to smile on and think profanities at god instead.

there was an older woman standing outside the crowd too. she asked if I was here with anyone, a girlfriend maybe? I said no, my parents were across the street. she nodded, and said she was here with her kid. a daughter, that she came to support, but couldn't keep up with in the crowd.

I almost cried. I told her how amazing that was, because I couldn't imagine my mother showing support like that to me over anything, much less something as serious as Being Gay. I imagined if I was gay, and at a pride event just like now, but this time because I Belong.

I knew automatically that my mother, without a doubt, would still be in the same place, across the street.

I got hungry after a bit, and tried to find a good food truck. I had a little money and I was unused to being on my own like this, but I didn't want to go back to the Other Side. I knew now without a shadow of a doubt, this was the Good side and that was the Bad side.

as I was eating the gyro I got, there was a stream of red shirted protestors trickling through; I had reached the end of the boundaries, and the protestors were allowed in here. I backed up a little, spotting my dad among them. I didn't want him to tell me to go back.

there was a line of women closing ranks around the Pride attendees, separating them from the protesters as they walked through. they spread their arms out and told every person the protesters spoke to that they were not obligated to respond, they could walk away and not engage.

my dad spotted me back, and made a beeline over. he couldn't cross over because a butch lesbian stood between us. I didn't know what those words meant, but I never forgot the buttons she was wearing.

he tried to tell me that it was time to go. "you're not obligated to speak to him," the butch said, cutting him off and edging further between us. I smiled at her, a little in wonderment. no one had ever told me that I didn't have to speak to my parents, or do anything other than blindly obey them. I watched my dad get held behind a line by a woman half his height, with no intention on letting him get to me, and I smiled and walked away.

I didn't have a clue who I was then, and I wouldn't for a good few years to come. but I never forgot the supportive mother, who symbolized to me everything a mother should be, that mine, for all her religious self righteousness, would never hold a candle to. I never forgot that she was the person I wanted to be, and my mother was the person I did not want to be.

I never forgot the butch who stood between me and my dad, and for the first time ever, put the idea in my head that I was ALLOWED to make my own choices in my beliefs, and made me feel protected in a way I hadn't known I needed.

the image of her standing between me and my dad, being a physical barrier to protect me against any potential threat, that inspired the image of who I admired and wanted to become. it inspired the version of me who could stand up to my dad - to the point that I could hold my ground and educate him enough that over a decade later, he walked side by side with me at a pride festival, with no intent of witnessing to or condemning anybody.

pride month may be over, but the impact this month and these events can have is so damn important. I became who I am because of two people I met at a pride festival. I'll never forget.