loss/win

it's kind of a little life triumph

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it’s 5am and raining.

yesterday i was doing laundry. Dude did his own laundry before i got home, which on the one hand is awesome, but on the other hand is weird/unnerving/sort of annoying actually because without his and the household’s laundry, i only have one load of laundry of my own and that means I don’t have enough to separate it.

It turns out, though, that basically everything I wear is in the same category, and the other two loads I usually do are in fact the household laundry and his laundry, so. Really. No real problem.

ANyway, I have a lovely old washing machine of the sort that when I want my clothes to soak, I can just leave the lid up and it will fill and go through the agitation cycle and get to the soak and just sit there until I come along again. So I did that today, but then I forgot to come back after an hour or two and flip the lid down (and reset it, I like to get it to agitate again after soaking). So I didn’t get around to that until night, and so it was after dark when I went to hang my clothes out.

I looked at the weather app, and it said there was a 30% chance of rain starting at 6am. Well….. so I put a bunch of stuff on the drying rack and hung a few things over the shower curtain rail on hangers, which is what I do in the winter. But some cotton muslin I’m going to try dyeing today, and some jeans, and a particularly floofy dress, and a few other things– well, I put them out on the line, they’d get musty-smelling in the house. (In winter it’s dry enough that even the thickest stuff can line-dry indoors in a timely fashion, but in summer it’s humid, so.)

I gambled. And then at 4:45, I woke to the sound of rain on the aluminum porch roof, and remembered, and got up to go grab it, thinking groggily, “well, I guess I gambled and lost.”

But then I got everything off the line quickly, and I guess the thing to remember is that most of the time when it rains it doesn’t rain that hard all at once. It’s not really that big a volume of water in any one place. So–

I got everything inside, and spread it out over the backs of chairs and things, and– huh. Guess I gambled and won, the wind pulled the wrinkles right out of this floofy dress, and the jeans are dry through the pockets. Hah!

LOL this is an incredibly mundane lil essay but it’s 5am and I’m not really awake, so I’m just gonna post it.

nothing i have known - some_stars - The Witcher (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

witcher

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nothing i have known - some_stars - The Witcher (TV) [Archive of Our Own] https://archiveofourown.org/works/26325508:

some-stars https://some-stars.tumblr.com/post/628535770736721920/nothing-i-have-known-somestars-the-witcher :

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Witcher (TV) https://archiveofourown.org/tags/The%20Witcher%20(TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Additional Tags: mention of past Geralt/Eskel, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Older Woman/Younger Man Summary:

Geralt’s been out on the path almost a year, learning just how much the human world hates witchers, when an innkeeper shows him unexpected kindness. (Then they have sex.)

Been working on this one on and off for a while, and delighted to finally finish it although I’m sure very few people will read it. But it made me happy.

(my ko-fi) https://ko-fi.com/some_stars

early morning

metz/lambert, keira/yennefer, sometimes fanfiction is good because of the weird constraints, sometimes art works like that

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Shh mods are asleep time to post Horny Femslash

ok the actual sex scene so far is all talking though. It’s not not horny, but Keira can’t shut up and Yennefer can’t not analyze the political ramifications of everything.

“Ah, that’s a particular bit of Aretuza craftsmanship, that is,” Keira said breathlessly, with a dainty little shiver as Yennefer pushed two fingers in where she was quite wet already.

“Really,” Yennefer said, surprised. “I never heard of so thorough a transformation before.”

“Well,” Keira said, “one of the reasons I specialize in medicine so much is that I was a bit of an unusual case myself.”

It would be interesting, Yennefer thought, to see how long Keira could keep going on about medical things while getting fucked, so she made a hmm of interest and set to work earnestly fucking Keira open.

Also this has developed into a whole relationship dynamic between a nonbinary-because*-fuck-you* Lambert paired with an intersex-but-assigned-female-and-has-spent-her-whole-life-trying-super-hard-to-be-The-Girliest Keira who has just always assumed gender is this much work for everyone, examined via the lens of an unexpectedly horny Yennefer who’s got no horse in this race besides amusing herself for an afternoon but discovers that, bless, she is actually rooting for these kids.

It’s just– listen, Keira was Written By A Man, so thoroughly, but if you posit that being a woman is a job that was sort of assigned to her post-facto and she’s spent her whole life trying her best to do it even though it’s not something she was innately called to, but she thinks she has no choice and this is what she has to do– well, it gives all that incredibly irritating behavior a much more interesting starting point.

And then it makes the relationship between Keira and Lambert so much more interesting if you posit that he’s the first person who has ever pointed out to her that you can opt out if you want. “Your gender can just be no,” he says, and her head explodes. “You’re allowed to do that?” she demands. “Who’s going to stop you?” he counters, and she has to go stare at a wall for a while.

(Their sex life gets real spicy for a while because she’s got illusion magic and can take on the form of whatever she wants, just to see how it is, and he’s really not concerned, he’s into her as a person, so it’s all fine, though he does have to draw some lines eventually. Listen they’re not all winners, that’s how experiments go, some of them fail.)

This story, though, with Yennefer, is a pretty good opportunity to peel back some of Yennefer’s overly-cis gender essentialism, which did get me into some trouble writing the Ancient Sea because her POV is needlessly caught up in that sort of thing.

witchertrashbag: goldandlights: Imagine Jaskier begging and pleading with Geralt for MONTHS for the.

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witchertrashbag https://witchertrashbag.tumblr.com/post/623494752527138816 :

goldandlights https://goldandlights.tumblr.com/post/623478442062675968:

Imagine Jaskier begging and pleading with Geralt for MONTHS for the Witcher to name just one fantasy he’d like to try out

Just one little scenario

Or a sex position

Anything that Geralt would like to do besides the usual because Jaskier has started to feel rather selfish with how much their bed play is focused on his pleasure

And Geralt makes this huge (quiet) fuss about how it’s fine, he’s happy, he can’t possibly ask for more, it’s embarrassing and really out there and he doesn’t want to make Jaskier uncomfortable with his desires

So when the Witcher finally gives in to Jaskier’s unrelenting nagging, the bard is prepared for pretty much anything -fisting, watersports, maybe a feeding kink?

But no

All Geralt wants is to be petted and praised

To be called a Good Boy and be allowed to sit at Jaskier’s feet, resting his head in the human’s lap until everything has gone soft and quiet

Jaskier is furious with the world and all the heartless, piece of shit people in it but when he sees Geralt shrink before his anger, he knows it is not the time for displeasure

Instead he lets a tender smile light up his features, covering the hand clutching the bedspread with his own and easing the white-knuckled grip

goldandlights https://goldandlights.tumblr.com/post/623476472340955136:

Geralt’s hottest, steamiest, most nsfw sexual fetish fantasy is being gently praised while someone pets his hair, send tweet

“It would be my greatest pleasure, love. Let’s see if we can bother the innkeep for another pillow, this floor is much too cold…”

He definitely also confesses this as though he’s just asked for the kinkiest thing he’s ever thought of

clementiens: mothdogs: adventurecore-suggestions: my grandma embroidered little flowers on her...

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clementiens https://clementiens.tumblr.com/post/625747952073424896/mothdogs-adventurecore-suggestions-my-grandma :

mothdogs https://mothdogs.tumblr.com/post/625745467754643456/adventurecore-suggestions-my-grandma-embroidered :

adventurecore-suggestions https://adventurecore-suggestions.tumblr.com/post/622998559957155840/my-grandma-embroidered-little-flowers-on-her :

my grandma embroidered little flowers on her clothes like i do and she taught me how to cook asparagus so it actually tasted good and she wrote about grief so simply that i could make sense of it when i was a child that had just lost a grandfather and sometimes i wonder how much of me is made of her and how much of me is my uncle and how much is my best friend and how much is my little sister. i wonder how much of them is me.

A few years back, I got really interested in this topic. I read a book by a man named Douglas Hofstadter, who’s the director for the Center for Research on Concepts and Cognition at Indiana University. One of the foremost American researchers of the science of cognition, Hofstadter has written a lot of books, but the one I’m most familiar with is called I Am a Strange Loop. Strange Loop’s focus is on determining how, exactly, does consciousness—individuality, thoughts, hopes, dreams, fears, desires, a sense of personhood—arise from inert and unthinking molecules? After all, atoms don’t have personalities. But yet people, who are only atoms all told, somehow do.

The crux of his argument is that humans are self-referential feedback loops. We take in information from the world and incorporate it into how we react the next time we receive information. A whole section of Strange Loop is dedicated to Hofstadter’s concern with the memory of his late wife, Carol. She died suddenly and he was left wondering what parts of her, if any, can “survive” in his memory. And he eventually concluded that every human is a combination and response to all the other humans they’ve ever interacted with:

As long as you remember someone—a dead friend, a relative, a beloved pet—your experiences with them, the way their personalities influenced you, in turn affect the way YOU act and interact with others. Personhood is a self-replicating concept. Your actions ripple out in ways that can never be fully seen or understood. In a vast, cosmic sort of way, no one ever really dies–they live on in their friends :-)

“We are all curious collages, weird little planetoids that grow by accreting other people’s habits and ideas and styles and tics and jokes and phrases and tunes and hopes and fears as if they were meteorites that came soaring out of the blue, collided with us, and stuck. What at first is an artificial, alien mannerism slowly fuses into the stuff of our self, like wax melting in the sun, and gradually becomes as much a part of us as ever it was of someone else (though that person may very well have borrowed it from someone else to begin with).”