#and therefore feel like our ideals would just class too much for comfort you know

[the-ace-lesbians]

Bi lesbian doesn't mean what that answer to that ask says though, that would be bad. Bi lesbian is biromantic homosexual which if homoromantic asexuals exist follows logically. Not saying you have to be comfortable with it, I'm still untangling my feelings on it, but it's important to have information when you're talking about these things. As an ace its weirdly close to the 'if you're asexual you can't be gay because your romantic attraction and sexual attraction have to be the same' argument to be entirely comfortable.

I have a lot of thoughts but tl;dr

The SAM shouldn't be used outside of aspec identities, I respect people who identify as bi lesbians but I'm not gonna be social with them, and I feel like the main difference in 'if you're ace you can't be gay' and 'lesbians can't be bisexual' is that gayness does not require sexual attraction, but lesbianism does require no attraction to men.

I maintain that the split attraction model could and should not be used outside of asexuality. It just doesn't work outside of sexuality because it was made specifically to define an identity including a lack of allosexuality or alloromanticism, where you can lack sexual attraction but have romantic attraction to, say women. The SAM works for aces and aros because asexuality and aromanticism do not contradict with queer identity, but benefits in more correctly defining yourself can be had from a modifier being used such as 'biromantic' or 'homoromantic' instead of simply 'bisexual' or 'homosexual'

Issue is, the foundation of being a lesbian is not including men and loving women. Bisexual and lesbian, while of course we share similar attractions and love and experiences, contradict each other if used together to explain a single identity, because one specifically requires the absence of attraction to men. To me, using the SAM to say you're a biromantic woman but you only like women sexually just feels like internalized comphet to an extreme degree - everything about a lot of it (of course not all and not every definition because it's a nuanced discussion) just feels like comphet to me.

Outside of that, the answer from that ask is absolutely one of the many different meanings to the term 'bi lesbian'. I've never even seen it applied to biromantic homosexuals, only bisexual sapphics who don't want to use the term bisexual sapphic.

I've seen plenty of people say other meanings, but the main one I see is people using it instead of bisexual sapphic or any other term we have specifically to avoid including men in lesbianism. It's a label that has an incredible amount of meanings, and it's definitely different to everyone who uses it or talks about it. There is no defining meaning.

I think, personally, the conversation is still different from the aphobic things people say - Primarily because gay doesn't specify sexual or romantic attraction. Like I said above, asexuality does not contradict anything about a lesbian identity. Lesbianism about loving other sapphics and only other sapphics - a loose definition because gender is so strange and confusing, but we can at least all agree that women.

It was absolutely acephobic and arophobic rhetoric that guided the OG hatred and aphobia we saw in the queer community, and it still is, but the reason that it's wrong to say we can't be gay and ace is because we literally, by definition, can be. Gayness and queer love isn't defined by sex, you know?

I do hear how it can sound too similar, and in the beginning that was a big reason I didn't have any opinion. I think the main difference is that in this, one of the labels used is quite literally defined by the lack one thing that the other has.

Even then, I'm not going to campaign against people identifying with the label bi lesbian, and I'd protect them if they needed help, they're still my queer siblings even if I don't particularly feel comfortable with the way they're labeling themselves because that's genuinely just none of my business, and my feelings don't mean anything about their identity!

And, in turn, their identity and feelings have no effect on my identity because I'm always going to consider lesbianism something devoid of men and attraction to men, that's sort of the whole point of it.

I also feel the need to say that I am actively reading more into this because I do want to know more! I have a lot of thoughts, and my main one tends to be that labels evolve and change with time and old definitions shouldn't be gospel while new definitions deserve to change, but at the same time some definitions sort of just... can't be changed.

Just as well, side note, another reason I dislike the term bi lesbian is because I have also seen it used by TERFs to describe sapphics dating trans women or sapphics who have had relationships with men, and I feel like if your label is used for transphobic and hateful purposes maybe we should all use the regular terms we had to describe this identity like 'sapphic' or 'sapphic bisexual' or literally just 'bisexual' because bisexuals aren't inherently going to date multiple genders and bisexuality is a beautiful word and identity with a beautiful history but idk I am definitely biased because I love bisexuals so much

[be11atrixthestrange]

According To The Stars

Be11a writes Jily Fluff! Read here or on AO3

*******

According To The Stars

While working on Divination homework, James learns something new about Lily. Good thing Divination is a load of rubbish... or is it?

*******

James wasn't sure if he believed in Divination, or if it was just a load of rubbish. Honestly, one of the only reasons he was still taking the subject was the company — it was on Lily Evans' sixth-year timetable, and therefore his.

His friends had dropped the subject, and they made sure to take the mickey out of him when he signed back up.

"Divination, really James?"

"Why take that when you could have a free period?"

"Is it the subject matter that fascinates you, or is it a certain redhead?"

The questions were rhetorical, and his friends knew that. They were perfectly aware of James' motivation for sticking around in Divination, and they knew that he preferred they weren't there. Not many students continued beyond their O.W.L. year in the subject, and James was happy that Lily was the only other student he knew well. He could assure they would always be partnered up for projects, and he didn't have to worry about anyone swooping in and stealing her attention from him. Not Remus, Sirius, Peter, or worst of all, Snivellus.

James was procrastinating on his Divination essay in the Gryffindor common room when Lily approached him.

"Have you started?" she asked.

"Not yet, I was waiting for you. I was hoping you could help."

"You're smart, you'll figure it out," she said as she took a seat at the table beside him. "It's just a birth chart, anyway."

Just a birth chart. The problem wasn't that James thought birth charts were difficult to understand; it was that he hated the idea of them. The fact that the date, location, and time of his birth supposedly determined his fate really bothered him.

Earlier in class, they had mapped out their star signs, and their homework was to analyze them. He had been feeling a pit of dread all day, simply because he'd have to dive into all of the details of his future. He truly didn't want to know what the stars had to say about his life. In James' opinion, there was no point in knowing how or when he might die, who his future wife would be, how many kids he would have, or what he would do for an occupation. It sucked all of the excitement right out of life and stripped him of his autonomy. He wanted to believe that his choices mattered.

He knew he should take it all with a grain of salt because humans could never fully understand the truth of the stars. Predictions were wrong all the time, and there were always going to be flaws in human methods of telling the future.

But the mere idea that James' future was set in stone made him deeply uncomfortable. Like his friends, he could simply choose not to believe in any of it, but the problem was that he sort of did.

He looked over to see that Lily had already started her essay and was scribbling furiously on her parchment. Reluctantly, he turned back to his own star chart and began writing too.

My name is James Potter, and I was born at 5:45 pm on Sunday, March 27th, 1960, in London, England.

This makes my Sun Sign Aries, my Moon Sign Aries, and my Ascendant Libra.

Sun Sign: Aries

The sun determines our ego, identity, and 'role' in life. It's the core of who we are. On my birthdate — Sunday, March 27th, 1960 — my Sun was in Aries.

I am fundamentally assertive, persistent, and courageous. Naturally competitive and fiercely independent, I push things forward with energy and enthusiasm. I am determined, and I persevere through anything.

James thought back to his time on the Quidditch Pitch, where he would do anything for a victory. He was a risk-taker with a deep desire to win, and that had landed him in the Hospital Wing more times than he'd care to admit. He was definitely independent — although he played Chaser on the Gryffindor team, he much preferred the solitary aspect of Seeker; when playing Chaser, his fellow teammates often badgered him for being a "Quaffle-Hog".

I need to learn to understand other people as complex wholes.

The analysis felt spot-on for James. People were like puzzles, and he enjoyed figuring them out. All-day, James had been riddled with curiosity about Lily's birth chart. He was planning to ask her about it tonight and was excited to get to know her on a deeper level.

I feel the need to distinguish myself from others.

James felt exposed by that one. He was a prankster; he enjoyed his popularity, and he often engaged in what others — mainly professors — would call "attention-seeking behavior." Touche, birth chart, he thought, as he carried on writing.

Moon Sign: Aries

The moon rules our emotions, moods, and feelings, reflecting our personalities when we're alone and comfortable. On my birthdate — Sunday, March 27th, 1960 — my Moon was in Aries.

My emotional self is independent, energetic, and enthusiastic. I have a tendency to feel inadequate and overcompensate just because failure is a possibility.

That one hurt a bit. James immediately felt defensive as he wrote it, but deep down, he knew it was true. As the only son of a well-known and successful family, failure was not an option. He was no stranger to pressure, and sometimes he overcompensated. He was a smart kid, but he often relied on his charm to build connections and network. He knew his smooth-talking could drive some people — mostly Lily — insane, but it was nothing more than a defense mechanism because he truly was terrified of failure.

I find security and safety through close relationships and long-term partnerships.

James held his friends close, and had no idea what he would do without them. He believed they would all be there for him for the rest of his life, and he couldn't entertain the idea that they might not. He would risk his life to protect his friends, and they'd do the same for him. According to his analysis, whether or not his overwhelming trust in others was a strength or a weakness was open to interpretation, and James chose to see it as a good thing. What was the point of life without friends, anyway? He smiled warmly at the thought and continued.

Ascendant: Libra

Our Ascendant is the "mask" we present to people. It can be seen in our personal style and our first impressions. Some say its relevance fades as we age. Our Ascendant is determined by our time of birth — I was born at 5:45 pm, meaning my Ascendant is Libra.

I come across as compromising, courteous, and impartial, though sometimes passive-aggressive.

For most people, he was a compromising and courteous individual, at least for people he liked. Unfortunately, passive-aggressive was a no-brainer as well. Some folks — particularly Snivellus — might say he was a bully. In detention, he'd received lectures about how pranking and cursing others was not the proper way to alleviate interpersonal issues. McGonagall never hesitated to tell him that a calm and rational discussion would be much more effective than a Levicorpus Charm. Admittedly, his methods could be considered passive-aggressive.

I am inclined towards balance.

James was a well-rounded fellow, that was for sure. He was an academic, an athlete, and he maintained a social life quite effortlessly. Balance truly was important to him. There was just one part missing from his ideal balance — a relationship. More specifically, a relationship with Lily.

In fact, that missing piece was one of the first things he looked for when he began his birth chart analysis. On a separate piece of parchment, he had scribbled down a few signs — Aquarius, Sagittarius, Leo, and Gemini. According to the stars, his ideal life partner's Sun, Moon, and Ascendant signs should fall into these categories. Part of him didn't want to know what Lily's chart said, and the rest of him needed to. It could all be rubbish, but maybe it wasn't.

"What are your signs, Lily?"

"Why do you want to know?" she asked.

"Research," he said.

"You want to know my fate?"

"You could say that," he responded. It was partially true — he wanted to know what the stars said about her life, but specifically her compatibility with him.

Lily sighed. "My Sun Sign is Aquarius."

James' stomach fluttered with excitement. Aquarius was one of his most compatible signs, so that was a good start. "And your Moon Sign?"

"Pisces."

He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. Nowhere on his chart did it say he should look for someone with a Pisces Moon Sign. "What about your Ascendant?"

James froze in anticipation, hoping for Lily to say one of the four options. Two of three compatible signs would make them a decent match.

"Virgo."

His stomach sank. One out of three matching signs wasn't ideal. Sure, it could work, but it meant that Lily wouldn't be his perfect partner. If he were to believe the stars, there was someone else out there that was better suited to him, and he wasn't sure if he wanted that to be true.

"Are you okay?" asked Lily.

James tried his best to smile and mask his fallen expression. He was okay; he just really wished Lily's astrological signs were fully compatible with his, but he didn't feel like he could tell her that. At least not straight-up.

"Do you believe in all of this?" he asked instead.

"Divination?"

"Yeah, but more specifically, this birth chart stuff. Do you believe that this should determine your future? Your personality, your jobs, and who you should be with?"

"Who I should be with?" she asked, her eyes moving to his parchment. She was squinting, and James wondered if she was trying to read his chart. "What are your signs?"

He hesitated before answering. What if she really did believe in all of it, and learning how lukewarm their compatibility was just turned her away? He knew he couldn't get away without telling her, so he took a deep breath and responded. "Aries, Aries, Libra."

Lily didn't say anything at first, and the pit grew in James' stomach the longer she was quiet.

"Lily?" he asked after she'd been silent for a few seconds too long for comfort. "What do you believe?"

"Honestly?" she said. "I believe it's a load of rubbish. At least I hope it is. What about you?"

He felt a wave of relief at her words. "Good. I think it's rubbish too, and I hope we're right."

She smiled at him, and he grinned back, the heat rising to his cheeks. They turned to their essays and began writing again. There was a little bounce in their quills, a mark of the excitement between two teenagers who just — sort of — admitted something big.

James felt better knowing that whatever his birth chart said about his future, his choices did matter. Sure, the stars might have a plan for him, but if they didn't involve the cute Aquarius beside him, he'd happily choose not to believe any of it.

[bettsfic]

hi betts. so, last year basically destroyed my ability to work on academic research/projects and my "productivity" (quotes heavily emphasized). in theory, i forgive myself for that, because fuck 2020. but now that i'm getting started again, every time i find something cool or useful to moving forward, i'm haunted by the thought that i should have found this/read this last year. any tips on combating feeling like its too late or you've wasted so much time?

i don't think "too late" is a real thing. it just means you have to take a different road. looking back, the only thing i was ever too late about was becoming a high school teacher, and even then it still kind of worked out. i didn't know i wanted to be a teacher until i already had an undergrad degree in something else and was partway through a masters. in ohio, it's basically impossible to become a public school teacher without an undergrad and masters degree in education, and i didn't have the time or money to go back and do that. private school in ohio is also a tough gig. but in other states, in other countries, it's not so hard. and in my case, i chose another field entirely. as long as i'm teaching, i'm happy, and thankfully there are plenty of ways to do that.

i'm also in my thirties and i want kids, but that goal is nowhere in sight. so one day it might be too late to have a biological child, but i'd also love to adopt.

so, there is no too late. you get there when you get there. and sometimes you only stay there for a while before moving on to something else. humans are restless like that.

now on to "wasting time."

i've been thinking a lot about how identity and behavior are cyclical. i write, therefore i am a writer. but also, i'm a writer, therefore i must write. when i don't write, that identity which is so important to me feels threatened, even though i know objectively this is fraught thinking.

take my best friend, for example. he has devoted his entire life to d&d and video gaming. a productive day for him is one during which he plays 10+ hours of a good game. when i play a game for 10+ hours, i feel like i've wasted the entire day. i haven't made anything. i haven't contributed to anything important to me.

conversely, if i spend an entire day reading, i feel very fulfilled. i'm a writer, therefore i must read. reading a good book is extremely productive to my writing. my best friend, however, has never voluntarily read a book in his life. to him, forcing himself to sit down and read would be the most tedious and boring thing imaginable. he's a gamer, therefore he plays games. a day not playing games is a day wasted.

what both of us have in common, however, is the belief that work is a waste of time, because neither of us function very well in "real jobs." he's a custodian at a high school and it eats significantly into his gaming time, even though he does a job that is absolutely necessary to society, especially in a pandemic. back a couple years ago when i tried to get a normal full-time job, i remember i worked late one day, until 10pm, and i thought, wow i wasted a whole day. i could have been writing and reading and cooking and other things i love.

most people who are happy with their employment situation feel productive after a long day. they identify as whatever their job is, so anything that reinforces that identity feels good. even though i hated banking, i identified as a banker, and it was still hard to set that identity aside when i quit.

there are many people who would have seen my career in finance as "productive" because i'm contributing something important to society, disregarding the fact that everything in my job description was a detriment to society. those same people might believe that my switch to writing and teaching is unproductive, because i'm not contributing anything necessary to society, not acknowledging that i've helped more people find happiness and comfort with my fanfiction than anything i ever did in a cubicle. moreover, my actual job for which i get paid is to teach 19 year olds critical thinking and literacy skills. i can't imagine anything more important than that. but someone else, my students even, might see the class i teach as a waste of time.

anyway. in an ideal world we would all be left alone to do the work that's important to us, whether it's fic writing or gaming or astrophysics or construction work. but it's not an ideal world. it's a world where sometimes we get conscripted into situations not conducive to our interests and growth. we're conscripted into terrible, meaningless jobs. we're conscripted into student loan debt and rent that's too high. this last year, we were conscripted into our homes, to abide by the CDC guidelines, for the betterment of society. like being drafted in a war, years were taken from us. lives were taken from us.

i can only hope that if we're lucky enough for things to get better going forward, we can look back on 2020 as a bad year we all collectively faced, knowing nothing that happened was in our control.

[uhhhhyandere]

If you're still doing requests how about omegaverse with omega Light and alpha m!reader who's a kickboxer. The reader's and Light's families are close and have high expectations of the two eventually marrying in the future, but the reader has no interest in being tied down and focused solely in his training and career. Lately he's noticed that some of his belongings have gone missing, like an old shirt or his boxing gloves, strangely enough the medication to help control his ruts keep (1/2)

running out quick, but writes it off as him being absentminded. One day he's forced to visit Light at his house and catches his scent forcing the reader into a rut, mating with Light all the while unaware they're under surveillance by the task force but Light finds this highly amusing. Now with mating bite and possibly pregnant, Light is tied to the reader no matter what now. (2/2)

we ain't gonna talk about how this has been sitting in my inbox for more than a year and ain't gonna talk about how i’ve almost had it done for more than a year, then forgot until i was digging through my drafts. no comment. i stink. i know, okay?!?!?!?!?!? AAAAHHH but i had fun finishing it so that’s what matters!! 

6.6k words m!reader x light :) 

warnings: smut! light is a.bottom and that's a hill i’ll die on.

Sweat, blood, and tears. It’s all you’ve ever known, and it’s all you’ve come to love and live for. The adrenaline of the ring, the quick, decisive movements, the thrill of winning, and the lessons learned from losing, it all accelerates your pulse and excites your nerves. Hard work never daunted you. You’ve learned to keep pushing, to run when you can’t walk, to fight when you’re knocked down, and to do whatever it took to come out on top. Your alpha blood craved the victory.

5am runs followed by strength training, then workouts after school was a routine you forced into your system. With your lifestyle, however, there was no other option. Strength. Flexibility. Reflexes. You needed everything to be successful. At the forefront of that “everything,” was commitment. There were things you had to miss because of training: family dinners, parties, club meetings, and more you’ve gotten an earful about for missing, but at least your family understood that boxing was your livelihood, no matter how much they were against it. It wasn’t some hobby you were going to drop when you got older. You wanted to make a career out of it, to be able to fight until you have to retire. 

Of course, that was the plan. There were things, expectations, that naturally got in the way. It wasn’t ideal when your only son wanted to be a boxer of all things. How dangerous, risky, a dream you only have as a child. Well, fuck them, you said. Your dream was going to be your reality, and you couldn’t care less who or what stood in the way. Hard work perseveres in the end. You just had to focus. To get distracted by anything was the risk of losing that future. 

The Yagami’s were a prime risk of losing that future. Your families were intertwined from before you were even born. Friends through their years of schooling and beyond. They married in the same year, moved into houses on the same block, and, of course, had their oldest child in the same year. It was like clockwork from there on out, a script to be naturally followed through the course of time. It only helped all the better when you were born an alpha and Light an omega. 

Light’s and your baby pictures were taken together. Vacations were taken together. Chief Yagami pulled strings at school so you were put into the same class, assigned the same tutor, put in the same prep course, and the same private academy. At that point, you were almost sure your parents wanted to be there when you two undoubtedly mate. Your paths were carved to be identical, linked to the very end, yet so you saw them as so incredibly different. 

However, you and Light were fundamentally different people. He was not a friend you chose, but someone who’s just been there. A constant, a tick on the back of your neck that left you with no choice but to live with its existence. You’ve come to accept the reality that he’s going to be there for the near future, the far future if your parents had anything to say about it. They and the Yagami’s had a matching plan, but while they were audibly planning your wedding, you were conniving a scheme of your own. 

The Koyanagi Invitational. Held at the beginning of January, this tournament-style invitational welcomes only the best of the best in fighters from all over Japan. The winners almost always see themselves on the international stage. It’s a nationally televised program, and you were only one win away from securing your spot in round one after your championship match for your region coming up soon. 

Your time is always dedicated to your passion, but now more than ever. Your trainer, an alum of the invitational himself, has allotted the time you desired to train in the gym at the expense of his other lessons. The trade-off was after your championship, you had to find another place for the time it will take to make up all the canceled lessons with the clients you were replacing for the time being, which shouldn’t be hard to do if—when you win the regional championship. Therefore, your time was acutely cut short for academics, social events, and everything else that was not training, but those were the sacrifices you warned everyone you would be making to come this far and reach even farther. You were not even keeping track of Kira at this point. Even that was on the backburner. What? Were they going to kill you for missing dinner with the Yagami’s for the third time this week? 

“Y/N,” your name was called. Through the surging endorphins of your body, you were able to feel good enough to answer the call from your father from the sweat you were yet to shower off. You’d rather reek on the way home rather than use the gym showers. Dropping your bag from your shoulder, you rub the muscle there as you approach the full table. “You were supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago.” You sighed, dropping your hands back to your sides. “Yeah, sorry, dad. Lost track of time. Coach was fixing my style again. Swarmer has always been good for me, I think. Just refining it.” You didn’t miss the shared look between your parents. 

“Well, it’s a good thing we scheduled this later because we knew you’d do this,” your mother says, low heat in her voice. “Get cleaned up and be down here in no more than ten minutes.” Biting your tongue, you nodded, making eye contact with Light as you turned to grab your bag and follow her request. “You could at least put jeans on.” You weren’t even down the hallway when your mother spoke again. This time, you were not being civil for the company’s sake and didn’t bother concealing your groan.  

“It’s not like we have company over.” The Yagami’s were over for dinner or you were over there at least four times a week. It would be odder to have dinner with just three instead of seven (or five, if you missed due to training or Soichiro because of the Kira case) people around the table. You pulled out the chair they left for you beside Light and lowered yourself into it, immediately taking another drink of water from the gallon water bottle you lugged around. “Or, at least, no one new.”  

“Y/N—,”

“No, he’s quite right. There’s no need to dress up for us. We’re practically family already.” Mrs. Yagami, your savior, laughed. “Light just always does,” which is wildly true. Light had a tendency to always look presentable and put-together no matter where the setting was. Late-night study sessions and other in-house cases were the only occasions you would see him clad in anything comfortable. Then, there was you, in your sweats at all times except when you were forced into your uniform at school. 

Luckily enough, the comparison game was not thrown between the two of you too often. It wasn’t necessary when your parents were convinced you would mate and live the rest of your lives together. An unspoken truth that simmered in the air whenever you all got together. 

“How is your training going anyway, Y/N?” Soichiro was an odd sight at the table anymore. The Kira case was an equivalent time commitment to your championship training, (except he gets paid to almost die. You get into fights willingly) and it was more and more late nights on the investigation team.

Especially now, of all times, with the dead FBI agents from the United States the news mentioned one morning, he was busier than ever. 

“Gets harder and harder, Mr. Yagami. Though, I’m keeping up. With the championship on the seventh, I can’t afford not to. The guy’s a monster from what I’ve heard. Tomorrow we’re watching his match from the semi’s.” Your mother cleared her throat. 

“Soichiro, sorry. We just prefer not to talk about business at the dinner table. Our son has a tendency to talk about fighting at all hours of the day, so we cherish this time where we don’t have to hear about it.” Ignoring her blatancy, you took another drink. 

“Well, I like to hear about it.” It was Light who spoke up. “It’s his passion, with all due respect. Do you not see it when his eyes light up when he describes his feelings or explains his regime? He’s someone with an innate gift he wants to pursue. Not to mention the strength he possesses to live this lifestyle. If anything, you should be proud to hear him talk about it, the time he dedicates. It’s nothing short of awe-striking, what he can do.” Your skin feeling unbearably hot, you blinked a few times and hoped to hide from the admirable line of defense Light brought up for you. Peeking from your pit of embarrassment, you met his eyes, bright and unabashed, and you smiled a silent thank you to him. He, without moving a single facial feature, accepted it. 

Instead of seeing the literal meaning of his words, you knew your parents saw the underlying tone of them. Their son being stood up for by Light Yagami. It must mean Light cared for him. Another step towards the future they have been quietly planning, so they smiled, and you wondered if Light saw through it just as easily as you did. 

He and you never sat down and had a conversation about your parents’ expectations. Whether it was reluctance or the pure awkwardness of it all, it never came up when you were together. It didn’t matter, though, because if you could avoid it, which you could easily with your training, you would. At all costs. You did not have the time for that and would not for anytime soon. 

After dinner, Light and you were pushed to do the dishes, as you always were if you were present. He washed, and you dried and put them away. In the midst of the sink running and the clinking of dishes, you found yourself with the desire to properly thank him outside of the small look you gave him before, but thought twice, three times about it at risk of looking too thankful and soft. “Just say it,” he spoke instead. 

“What?”  

“You look like you have something to say. You’ve glanced at me twenty-three times in the past seven minutes.” Despite the small grin on his face, you still couldn’t help but consider saying “it’s nothing,” which he would undoubtedly disbelieve, and let it blow over. Knowing him, though, he would twist it out of your system anyway, like a lawyer rinsing the truth in a cross-examination. 

“Just—uh thanks, man. For before.” Light laughed, scrubbing in the curve of a bowl. 

“You don’t have to thank me for something like that. You’re the type of person society needs, and to have someone talk down at you for being excited about your dreams is wrong. I was only doing the right thing, and I’d do it again.” You avoided his gaze as he explained, suddenly invested in drying the utensils one-by-one. 

“Well, yeah, means a lot.” 

Was Light’s smell always so nice? Yes, you weren’t going to fool yourself that this was the first time you’ve noticed. You’ve been nearby during one of his heats, and you remember nearly falling out into your own primal senses because of it. If it weren’t for your own reluctant self-control, you’re not sure where that night would have gone to. You’ve managed to deduce his smell to be some sort of chestnut, brown sugar mix. Intoxicating, but undeniably would foster an unwarranted reaction from you if you were too close during those times. 

Not to mention that you’ve noticed Light’s good looks sporadically throughout the past. While he plays tennis, focuses on a particularly confusing calculus problem, biting his lip and twiddling the pencil between his digits, or just smiles at you from across the hall at school, you’ve acknowledged it, but never let it grow to anything else. You didn’t want to. Sure, he was handsome, but you had a million other things to focus on than to be tied down by any sort of relationship. Besides, if worse comes the worse, your self-control is unmatched from your countless hours of training. No single individual could sway you from your path.

“It’s really nothing. Like I said, don’t mention it.” And you didn’t plan on it. Light stayed to finish up homework as well as teach you a good two-thirds of the material before telling you he was heading out on his short walk home after you returned from a quick bathroom break. It was getting close to the bedtime that enabled you to get your full eight hours before 5am.

The closer the championship came, the less you saw of people. You ate breakfast and left earlier, came to school right from the gym, (yes, you resigned yourself to shower in the disgusting stalls) went back to the gym after school, and got home later. It gave you less time to do homework or hang out with anyone that wasn’t your trainer. Good thing you had your good friend Light who insisted it was fine to stay late in your room and catch you up on what you were behind in. 

It only made sense, then, with your exponentially increasing schedule that things started to become hectic. Of course, you were missing more of what you usually missed, but most recently you’ve begun to misplace things. A t-shirt you knew you had in the drawer, your go-to nighttime sweatshirt, a pair of shorts. You figured some might be at the gym or dropped in your transit from one place to another, but your sweatshirt never left your house and you sure as hell never left it in the hamper to get washed. 

It was just your busy schedule, you and your parents agreed. You needed to step back and relax if you were beginning to lose things. Plus, you were hardly sleeping with your anxiety building for the coming fight and the late nights you were practically forcing Light to pull with you.

“You don’t have to do this with me all the time,” you mentioned one night. “If I’m messing with your schedule or anything, I know it’s probably super inconvenient for you to do this so often. I never asked—.”

“You didn’t have to,” he answered. “It’s no trouble. I offered, after all. It’s not like I see you much outside of these sessions anyway. Even at school, you seem to always be in a hurry. I’m actually pretty worried about you. How much sleep are you getting? Are you eating enough? Drinking?” You waved him off. 

“You know I always do. I have to eat and drink enough to do this in the first place. I don’t carry a gallon bottle around for the gains, after all.”  

“And your sleep?” You glanced towards your window. 

“Needs work these days.” A small whack resounded off your temple. Surprised, you watched the weapon be flipped between the assaulter’s fingers in front of you. “What was that for?” 

“Don’t be stupid. I get you want to work hard for your match coming up but killing yourself with all this hard work and no rest will undoubtedly lead to your defeat. It’s common sense. You should know that more than anyone.” You set your pen on the desk, the fatigue weighing your eyes down. “Even your dark circles are even showing.” You relaxed your shoulders. “You don’t have to put up your tough guy front with me.”  

“You don’t have to put up your perfect student façade either.” You paused. “Sorry. Uncalled for. You’re right, as usual. I love it though. I want to be the best, and this guy I’m coming up against? He’s a maniac. This is the first tournament he hasn’t gone below the belt or spit on an opponent. Who knows when he’ll start, though? I have to be quick. This fight cannot last long, or this guy will injure me. I can’t afford that if I’m moving on to Koyanagi.” You laughed. “You’re really right. You know I’ve been losing stuff left and right? Old shirt here, that black sweatshirt I wear all the time? Gone. No idea. Some tape in my bag. It’s like some leprechaun is stealing my stuff.” 

“They’ll turn up. Maybe if you get a proper night’s sleep tomorrow and train only in the afternoon, you’ll remember where you left them.” You groaned, stretching in your spot and allowing yourself to slouch against the wall you leaned against and to shut your eyes. “Hey, at least finish this last problem and sleep in your bed.” 

“Don’t want to. I’ll sleep right here.” 

And you did, because Light Yagami was too weak to lift you up.

A sore back and neck now healed, you found yourself wrapping your hands for the long-awaited match in the locker room. Heart already beginning to pound, you tried to find solace in the silence around you, but all you could hear was the rhythm against your ribs. 

“You ready, kid?” Your coach asked from the entranceway. “Two minutes.” You nodded, reaching into your bag and finding odd space in there. No fucking way. Though your old boxing gloves were present, your current ones were not. God, another thing my dumbass lost. There was no time to sit and shit on yourself. I just lost the fucking match for myself, damn it! You didn’t think about it long before you exited the locker room and into the blur of voices and music on the other side. Your opponent stood on the other side of the room, taller and wider than yourself. “Size ain’t nothing kid. Put your confidence into work too here. Don’t forget the mental part of the fight, ya hear me?” 

You didn’t. In the crowd, you saw your family and the Yagami’s looking either nervous or excited. The camera crews around swung cameras across the area of the mat. As your name was announced and you entered the ring, the lights began to move around you. The crowd cheered and yelled in excitement. Your coach encouraged you from behind you.

Sweat, blood, and tears. It is what has gotten you this far, and it will continue to bring you higher. You did not train and work to lose right where you should be beginning. As your opponent entered from the other corner, the familiar sense of adrenaline rushed your veins. Yes, you could do this. 

Ten  

Nine 

Eight 

Seven

Six 

Five

Four 

Three 

Two 

One 

K.O.

You woke up in your bed the next morning. A white ceiling, white walls beeping a steady heartbeat around you. Then, it all came coming back. The elbow, all the dirty moves used against you pounded in your skin. Out of everything, your head ached the most. Tiny explosions cascaded your brain as you rolled your head along your pillow. 

“You’re awake!” It was your father. “Your mother’s worried sick. That stupid asshole. Why they didn’t disqualify him after the first dirty hit, I’ll never know, but you had a fair fight.” You squinted through the migraine.

“…Did I win?”

“From a DQ, yeah. Hardly counts, and I’m sure you hardly feel like it. The guy was a nutcase. The kind that takes out their aggression through the sport rather than respecting it. You’re gonna be out for the count for a while, you know that, right? Grade three concussion. You’re going to have to take a break. Me and your trainer already called every gym around and put you on the blacklist—,”

“But dad—,”

“Nope, I’m not going to hear it. You are not allowed to even think about working out or training. We are going to keep our eyes on you at all times because we all know how you think and what you’re going to try to pull. Recovery is the most important part of an injury. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll never get better in time for the invitational. Got it?” You guffawed. 

“You can’t keep eyes on me at all times.” 

“Not me, personally, but there is someone with a similar schedule to you that you happen to go to school with and happens to live around the block.” You glared at the man. 

“You recruited Light into helping you, didn’t you?” He shrugged and took the steps forward to stand at the foot of the bed. 

“It’s more so he volunteered. He knows just as well as the rest of us you need to be watched or you’ll train at some faraway gym or secluded area. It’s for your best interest. You’ll go to school with him and he’ll take you back to their place until we get home—.”

“I don’t need a goddamned babysitter,” you bit out. 

“On the contrary, would you not sneak off to train despite your condition?” You shook your head. You were in no condition to be having an argument, yet you stood your ground. 

“It’s the lack of trust for me.”

“Yeah, we don’t. Not when it comes to putting your health first. Light was even telling us about how you’re behind in school too. With a concussion, you’ll need help anyway. Discussion over.” If your headache could get any worse, you were pretty sure it would have. 

Not that you thought that he was kidding, but you weren’t expecting the doorbell to ring so early as you brushed your teeth, a towel wrapped around your waist from your shower. Spitting quickly, you left wet footprints across the wood floor as you approached the door. 

“By god,” you muttered, opening the door. “You really were enlisted, huh?” Light shrugged. 

“Well, by the looks of it, you didn’t go out earlier to work out than usual in order to look like you didn’t, unless you’re showering from a quick one between when your parents left for work and I got here.” You rolled your eyes, opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow him room to enter.

“Funny. No, I just got up. Guy really did me in one, and you don’t actually have to listen to my parents. You know I’m not going to go do anything that can put my recovery at risk.” He slid his bag off his shoulder and set it on the couch. 

“I know you, and the second you don’t wake up in pain, you’re gone. Sitting back and doing nothing kills you, after all. I don’t need to have known you my entire life to tell you that.” The side of your lip quirked. 

“Yeah, whatever. Let me get some clothes on,” you turned around and returned to the bathroom. Putting on the folded clothes you left in the corner, you grabbed your bag from your bedroom and met with the boy digging into his bag. “Ready, babysitter? I’m going to call you that all day, by the way. No matter who we’re with.”

“Great. I can’t wait.” …

It wasn’t so bad, having a sitter. You mean, you were with Light when you weren’t training, anyway. Going to his house every day after school was even normal, mind the odd words being thrown around the school by the observers. No one confronted you about it, which came as no surprise. Who was going to confront a boxer about those kinds of rumors? 

Light didn’t seem to mind, either. As one of the top bachelors of the whole school, you were sure he had to be aware of them. Just like your parents’ desired future for the two of you, you never spoke of it. Perhaps he was as nervous to bring it up as you were, or at least as reluctant. Still, nothing would change. If he would not speak of it, neither would you.

You never suspected, however, for that dam of silence to ever break in either of you. …

It was nearing the end of your recovery when the only thing between you and getting back in the ring was a doctor’s okay. Your parents and the Yagami’s were going out for a “night on the town,” quote-on-quote. Sayu was at a sleepover, and your parents ordered you to make your way over to Yagami household. 

“It’s getting close to you being cleared. No point in ruining it now, Y/N. Just go. You probably have work he has to teach you anyway.” You glared at your parents as they stood adamant. “Go. We will have him drag you there.” “As if he could,” you muttered.

“Let me in!” Two minutes of knocking, you resigned to lifting up the third rock from the right and grabbing the key from the underside. After you broke in three times in a week at age seven, you would think they’d change the key’s location. 

You set your possible overnight bag on the couch. On the main floor, it was quiet, which wasn’t all surprising. Light has been spending more time in his bedroom than ever. That was saying a lot, itself, because he was always in there in the first place. Perhaps he wasn’t expecting you. You grinned.

Footsteps light, you tiptoed up the stairs and turned the corner. There were small noises coming from the other side of his door that you could hear from the far side of the hall. As you creep closer, you couldn’t necessarily distinguish what the noises were. Nonetheless, it was clue enough he was too preoccupied to notice the huge scare you’re about to give him. 

Hand on the doorknob, you turned it and screamed as you entered.

Though, turns out you were the one that got more scared. Not in fright, but of shock. Light, however, remained composed as ever despite the position you caught him in.

His smell overpowered the room. You nearly were kicked back from it. Back bent upwards off the bed, his mouth agape with small guttural moans and breathless gasps escaping it, all while his hand worked every so slowly stroking his cock. His other hand fisted what you recognized as your lost sweatshirt covering his nose and mouth. Above the material, his eyes were trained on yours, head rolled to the side as his motion continued. 

“Jesu—what? Is that my…” Looking around the slightly torn up room, you recognized t-shirts, tape, and even your current pair of boxing gloves lying around the room or on his bed. “I-I don’t…” His fist threw the sweatshirt to the side as the hand came down hard on the bed. 

“You don’t—mmh—what? Get it? I know you’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer at times, but you can put this together, can’t—uh—you?” His grin grew wider and more wicked as he took in your reaction. “I’ll say, you have an unspeakable amount of willpower, but I think—ah—I’ve had enough of it.” 

“What do you mean? Did—did you plan this?! To trigger my fucking—ugh.” He rolled his eyes. Whether it was from pleasure or annoyance, you couldn’t tell, and your mind wasn’t really in a state to think about it under the current conditions. 

He had you trapped. His smell corrupted the very air around you and seeped into your skin. It was overpowering. You could feel your rut, your ever so clandestine, rut-stained self, emerging from its thick chains. You couldn’t even take a step backward or turn to open the unlocked door. All of your nerves screamed at you to take him. To make him scream so that all he could say, all he could even think about, was you, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t. 

Because this isn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to be linked with him outside of your parents’ desire for you and him to be wed one day. This was the path to that future, the future that distracted you from your goal.

Light shifted to stand above your lack and bent form that was on its last legs before the rut would take over. A hand softly stroked your head, as a parent would stroke a child’s, and set itself under your chin. It nudged upwards, forcing your gaze to his. At such close vicinity, the scent, his scent, him, it was all you could perceive. 

“You really are the worst. The epitome of holding yourself—your desires—back. I know you don’t want what our parents want. I know the thought of something tearing you from your dream kills you. I know that you think that this,” he motioned between the two of you, “would be the exact definition of a distraction, so you’ve pushed it all down. Never acknowledging its existence. Well, do you acknowledge it now?” 

You didn’t answer. You were nervous about what would come out of your mouth if anything did. Your willpower would die with the next exhale you took. Annoyed with your last stand, he dragged his hand from your neck to your shoulder and shoved your weak state down so you were on your knees. He leaned down so his breath ghosted over your lips.

“You really put on a show for me, you know. Answering the door with only your towel on back then. Deep down, I think you want this too. Deep down, you know that this was bound to happen. Just like your pain in a fight, you ignore it. You’re not a complicated individual to figure out. Just give in. What’s the harm in letting someone else take the reins for once?” He stared down at you, you felt it, but you refused to meet it, choking on shallow breathes in order not to inhale his scent too much. You remained silent, using your leftover strength to power onto your two feet. 

“Not going to talk? Fine. Your mouth could—,” you didn’t even allow him the time to finish the sentence or pull through on what you knew was going to be his statement as you rushed to shove him rough enough to force him to fall on his ass on the floor next to the bed. He looked up at you from his seated position, eyes wide and excited. You seemed more shocked than him and took a step backward towards the door. His eyes, yellowed and urgent, followed your movements. 

Swallowing, you willed yourself to extend your hand down as a form of apology: one you were unable to voice in current conditions. Light’s hand, soft and delicate, grasped is softly at first, allowing you to lift him to stand just over the bed, then squeezed, brought his other hand to your forearm. and tugged your unsuspecting form onto the bed with him, so you unwillingly straddled his legs. 

He was quick to surge upward and lock his arms around your neck. Meeting his lips was kissing the devil himself: everything about it was all-consuming, hot, wrong. Light did not start out slow, just as he was with everything else. With guns blazing, his tongue tore open your lips and invaded your now open maw with vigor and power your conscious self could not meet. He brought his hands to your ass and tugged you forward to push your bodies tight together. Breaking only to breathe and begin to force your shirt up your abdomen with his cold fingers. You helped. God, you shouldn’t have, but your clothes were getting so hot. As soon as the article was off, Light latched to your neck, teeth quick to bite. You gasped, tilting your head back to reveal more skin to him. He brought his hand up and tugged on your hair, eliciting another groan from your lips. 

“For someone who abhorred the thought of us together, you seem to be enjoying yourself.” His mouth continued down your form, biting the skin, and then licking the newly affected area. By now, you could feel your length suffocating even under the looseness of sweatpants. The undeniable urge for relief, for him, the one who was adjusting you to stand in front of him. An obvious, wordless request to rid yourself of your confines. “Go on. I’m waiting,” he said, leaning back to show his nude-self off. His cock glistening with a delightful mix of slick and precum. Inviting. Warning. Waiting. Jesus, you needed your fucking pants off! 

Hurrying to get your legs bare, you allowed your own slick to make its first drops onto the floor. Light did not make any moves, only locking his eyes onto yours. A silent argument, but you were in no mood to trifle in such affairs with your mind clouded. Surging forward, you would have been able to straddle him once more would it not be for his hand solidly placed on your abdomen. “I said, I’m waiting, you sex-craved beast. Tell me how much you need this. How much you want to be mine. To follow the path carved for you with me. I have enough here to get me through my heat, but you don’t get ruts too often, do you?” Why and how this twig held so much authority, you would never know. 

“Just let me—,”

“Let you?” He laughed. “Do you think you’re the one in charge here? What? You think because you’re physically stronger, because you’re an alpha, that you get dominance here?” His eyes, though yellow, spoke true on his words. They demanded compliance. “Now, be a good boy, and beg to fuck me. Beg to stick your cock inside me.” To stress his point, he ground upwards ever so slightly. You hissed at the contact. 

“God, please just let me—please just—fuck. Light, I need to fuck you. I need to take you, to mate you, to—fuck—I want you to scream for me, and only me. I want your throat raw from how loud and how much you scream for me.” You gripped the headboard above him while your other hand trailed down his lithe body coated in sweat until it reached his hole. His slick dripped from there due to his heat so that your finger slipped right in. Light moaned. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Please,” you slipped a second, then the third digit in. Light’s teeth dug into his bottom lip as his back arched to meet the thrust of your fingers. 

“Shit, it feels so good, Y/N, alpha. Go on. Mate me. Be mine forever just as I’d be yours.” You adjusted yourself to settle comfortably between his legs and used your hands to lift them, bending him in half to expose himself to you. You hissed as his first squeeze around you before you continued to sink in. Shared moans filled the room as you cursed out for each other. “Yes, feel how tight I am for you, how your cock was meant for me.” Heat shot through every nerve fiber of your being, and you did not bother to begin your thrust languidly. Instead, you rushed to build to a quick, pounding pace. Your rut pushing you to go deeper, and faster as he tightened around your length. Your hips met his groan with an audible smack, and, at a certain angle, Light cried out. “What are you… waiting for…? Bite… me. Claim me, you beast.” 

You could barely hear his words through your focus, your feeling, and, after a short while, even Light could not manage words. Only gasps, moans, and a few small screams escaped his lips and you sought your release. Closer, and closer, and closer… fuck. You ground your pelvis into his. 

“Shit, I’m gonna—oh, fuck,” you whispered, a quiet worship into the air as you allowed yourself to empty within him. You pulled out slowly, watching small amounts of liquid viscously drool out. Light’s skin was flushed deeply red, sweat glistening off his skin, and cock red, pulsing, and heavy against his torso. His labored breaths from his wide, open mouth forced his stomach to rapidly grow and shrink before he quickly regained himself and focused his eyes on you.

“What? Do you think I’m done with you?” He smirked, still breathing heavily, chest rising and falling. “Come here.” You let his legs go to allow him to surge forward and capture your lips with his own. “I’m still rock hard. Why don’t you do down there and do something about it, hm?” Light supported his point by guiding your hand to grasp his cock. “Go on.” 

His scent was all-consuming. Your nose trailing the skin of his cock as it followed your tongue up and down his length. You swirled your tongue around this head while your hand worked the base of his cock. “Eyes on me, alpha. Eyes on your omega, now.” Yellowed eyes dared you to look away. “Go on, and take me in.” Light gasped as you swallowed him. “Fuck, fuck, yeah. Now, suck. Yes. Just like that. Bob your head—just like,” he grasped your head and guided your movements, “that, yes. Damn, you’re a terribly slow study with math, but fuck, you learn to suck cock quickly.”

You followed his instructions, hand lightly teasing his balls, mouth taking him deep then pulling back, until you began to move on your own volition. “Oh, yes. I’m gonna- fuck. You better fucking swallow all of me. I don’t want to see a single drop on the bed.” Light watched with sick delight as you struggled to take his spend in. He was quick to reach down when you retracted your mouth, sealing your jaw shut with his hand until he saw your adam’s apple bob. “Oh, good boy. Now,” ignoring your painfully—once again—hard cock, he pulled you back up, “claim me. Bite me, alpha. Do it.” 

“N-no, I can’t.” 

“You can and you will. Go ahead.” Light moved his locks and stretched his neck out to you. There was nothing more you wanted to do than sink your teeth into the smooth stretch, to have your scent follow him as he walked around the school every day. “Bite me, Y/N. Do it now,” and you did. Light howled in pleasure as copper filled your mouth. You licked the raw skin before sinking you teeth in deeper and sucking what you can. 

“Light,” you pulled back, eyes blown wide. “I—,” he shushed you by tightly gripping your cock with a wide smile. 

“It all worked perfectly,” he said, beginning to stroke your length in tandem with his words. “I thought replacing your gloves would cause you to lose, to grieve, to stay here, but when I heard of your opponent and talked with him just a bit before your match, angering him about what kind of person you were, I had to. I had to.” You bit your bottom lip, unable to articulate words as he picked up his pace, tightened and loosened his grip, and brought in his other hand. “It hurt to see you injured, but I had to what had to be done. I needed you to make me yours. You don’t belong with anyone else besides me. Your dreams, your work ethic, your body, your mind, they’re all mine, and now, with this,” he motions to the raw, bloodied skin of his neck, “my plan has come to fruition beautifully. It’s like the universe deemed it so.” Your breathing escalated. His thumb moved to tease the head of your cock. “You’re all,” he laughed, “fucking mine.” 

He met your lips the same time your release spilled into the open air. “Now,” he leaned back, “let’s keep going, hm?”

[incoherentbabblings]

Why TimSteph is nice

Because I honest to goodness think they are. Prompted by @tsukiakari1203 who needed cheering up but also just because it’s that kind of evening you know?

I also have a TimSteph meta tag if you want to go through four years of me moaning about them. I am going to be repeating myself from some of those posts. Sorry. These are just little things which I love to infer more meaning out of then what was (probably) intended. 

This is long. As always.

Pre-New 52 there are a lot parallels with each other. Their Batgirl and Red Robin runs copy each other thematically. Their characters over their thirty years of publication flip on the cynicism and idealism scale. Tim is initially good at making and keeping friends. Steph is initially not. Tim comes from a relatively stable home, albeit it with distant at best or neglectful at worst parents. Steph comes from an unstable home, with neglectful at best and abusive at worst parents. Tim pushes his way into the inner circle of the batfam and is successful at doing so on like his second or third try. Stephanie pushes her way into the inner circle of the batfam, but it takes approximately 20 tries plus (nearly) dying to get people to take her heroics seriously. Both form close familial relationships with the originator of the mantle they hold.

Tim starts helping because he believes no-one else can step up to the plate and help Bruce, and he continues to help people because it is simply the right thing to do. After multiple tragedies he loses any desire to exist as his genuine self outside his superhero mask, and the reader is left with the idea that there isn’t really a Tim Drake left at the end of his solo run anymore, only different factors of Red Robin. Stephanie starts helping because she believes no-one else is capable of stepping up to the plate and stopping her father, and over time her spite and anger turns to genuine altruism and compassion, which makes it impossible for her to willingly hang up her costume. After multiple tragedies, the line between her Stephanie self and Batgirl self is practically non-existent. She is never not genuinely herself, and is on the path to get her degree, repair her relationship with her mother, work alongside the new friends she has made and pursue everything that may have been denied to her when she was fourteen years old.

One of Tim’s first major missions as Robin had him face Scarecrow. One of Stephanie’s first missions as Batgirl was to face Scarecrow. As @our-happygirl500-fan once pointed out - Stephanie’s super heroics started with her trying to kill her father. Tim’s super heroics ended with him trying to kill his father’s killer. Stephanie gains Bruce’s unequivocal trust, Tim loses it. The future Tim sees for himself ten years down the line is lonely, dead or in a position he does not want to take (Batman). The future Stephanie sees for herself ten years down the line is being a parent, mentoring younger heroes, living in a nice house, and running around in a beloved mantle (Nightwing).

Both of their biggest fears are simply not being good enough at what they need and want to be.

Onto fluffier things below the cut...

Absolute favourite thing is how they are often drawn holding each other’s cheeks. Hands are a big them for them (for me) so look out for their interactions. Even when they aren’t a couple, their hands are resting on the other or reaching out for the other. It’s not uncommon for Tim to put his right arm around Steph when they are sitting together and press her into his chest.

Tim’s the only person to call Stephanie Stephie aside from her father and Dean, and therefore is the only one to mean it as a genuine endearment. He is also the only person aside from her parents to call her sweetie, though again, unlike her father but like her mother, Tim means it as a genuine endearment. 

One of the side purposes of Stephanie’s pregnancy arc was to give Tim and Steph a reason to get to know each other outside of the costume. Early on, even before they got together, Stephanie pushed against there being a distinction between the mask and the person wearing it. She continually both pre and post new 52 decries Tim claiming there is any kind of separation. Stephanie had a crush on Robin, but she fell in love with the boy who kissed her in the cinema, took her to the highest point in Gotham because he thought the views were romantic, and took her to birthing classes with a fake beard on. She loved Tim. There is no distinction. For about a year in universe she was the only person who had a reason to exist in both Tim and Robin’s lives. Giving up one would not necessitate giving up Steph. Though she would insist on dragging Tim back to the surface. Therefore, I think, if the Pre-New 52 universe had been allowed to continue, Steph would have been important in getting Tim back to the surface over Red Robin. Look what she managed to do in their crossover. The mere threat that she doesn’t recognize Tim anymore helps get him back on track. It’s also a thing in Rebirth. Tim is Tim is Robin is Red Robin is Drake is Tim. No difference.

I cannot find exact proof of this right now but there’s a panel where Tim’s on a date with Ari, and he can’t focus on her, as he’s too worried about a case. Tim can’t flipping focus ever with Zo because at that point his mind is just too full of trauma by then. 

Steph takes him to the cinema, he relaxes. Steph makes out with him; his mind goes blank. I dunno where I’m going with this. Steph makes Tim feel safe, I guess. He lets his guard down bad with her. 

When they’re younger they’re both kind of jealous over the other. Tim (playfully) threatens to shoot a guy who has a crush on Steph, and she does the very logical thing when seeing Tim being kissed and decides to make a Robin costume and force her way into the Batcave. Love was conditional for the both of them growing up, so the concept that they love each other for realsies doesn’t really compute. The other will leave. Eventually. Tim has better prospects and Steph will get bored of Mr Goody-Two-Shoes. Spoiler: They don’t. 

Steph trusts Tim with the stories of her assault. She says her favourite things about him are his gentle nature, the fact that he’s not afraid to show her he’s frightened, and his empathy. Tim loves how warm Stephanie is and he loves how consistent her affection for him is. He knows that she only has his best interests at heart, even when she listens to the wrong people for what that is (coughBrucecough). They often can be found bolstering and comforting the other against Bruce’s actions as much as they can be seen supporting him, which makes for some juicy conflict.

In Rebirth Tim only sets the drones to target himself when Steph calls him thinking she’s going to die. In Rebirth the last person Tim chooses to speak to is Steph. In Rebirth the thought of Steph is one of the things that keeps his will to go home alive and his sanity after spending months alone intact. In Rebirth his renewed relationship with Steph was partially unravelling Dr Manhattan’s reboot of the earth (the power of adolescence crushes). In Rebirth Stephanie wins over the bad guys by assuring her boyfriend that a) he is a good person who b) she trusts to do the right thing. She saves the day with the Power of Love. In the bad Batman of Tomorrow future, Tim is looking for Steph, implied that he still has feelings for her even though she says he is essentially dead to her, he goes to see young Stephanie and begs forgiveness from her, then uses her - referring to her as something to possess in one interpretation - to throw young Tim off in a fight. Again, in Young Justice, the thought of Stephanie is one of Tim’s biggest motivators to go home. She is his home. He is her cornerstone.

And that is why I think they are a neat couple.

[beatrice-otter]

Period Fic Primer: Mawwiage is what Bwings Us Togethah Today

Welcome to my next installment of the Period Fic Primer, where I talk about stuff that period fic often gets wrong! Today we're going to talk about how people think about marriage. Because about 90% of the time, when I read a period fic with a romance in it, it's pretty obviously modern people with modern ideas about love who just happen to be wearing funny clothing. And, I mean, if that's what floats your boat, go for it! But if you want to write something with characters who feel they might actually come from the time period the story is set in, here are some things to think about. Stop me if you've read this fic/watched this movie: Our hero and heroine are In Love. But there is a problem! There is a class difference! Their families have other ideas of who they should marry! The hero and heroine don't understand how anyone can stand in the way of True Love! What kind of monsters could want someone to marry without being in love with their new spouse?

That reaction--that assumption that of course being in love is the only and most important reason for marriage--is extremely modern. People have fallen in and out of love throughout human history, it's something most humans do; and falling in love with the wrong people is also fairly common. But the idea that romantic love and marriage are naturally connected is a modern idea which was only starting to come into popularity in the Regency.  Instead, up until the late Victorian era, most people (of all social classes) would have agreed more with Max instead:

In most times and places, marriage has had two primary functions: 1) consolidate/amass resources needed to sustain the family, and 2) pass those resources on to the next generation so that the family will continue to prosper. Why? Well, to answer that, we have to back up a bit. Did you know that, throughout history, most communities were only one bad year away from famine and people starving to death? This is not an abstract thing. It didn't happen most years, but it happened regularly enough that it was never far from peoples' minds. Also, farming up through the late middle ages took huge amounts of backbreaking labor. In a good year, you'd have a surplus, and could sell it to get some extra stuff. In an ordinary year, you'd have enough to survive on. In a bad year, people died. Organizing things so that you and your family and your community--the people you cared about--would have the best chance at survival in a bad year was really important. Now. Where do the resources come from? From the land. If you want to farm, you need land. If you want to mine, you need land. For pretty much anything, you need land. Making sure that you have access to the land you need--and that your children will have access to it--was a really big deal. For the few things that didn't need land, but rather used the products of the land and turned it into something else--all the trades, basically--there was also a lot of concern for how to balance things so that the people already in the trade can be sure that they and their families will have what they need to continue on in the trade. Access to resources was a huge deal. For most of human history, in most places, that's been one of the most important considerations for marriage. It's all about who has access to resources, and how they are going to pass those resources down to the next generation intact so that their children will have enough to live on. This looked different at different levels of society and in different cultures, but if you ask yourself "where are they getting resources from" and "how do those resources flow from one generation to the next" and "what effect is a prospective marriage going to have not just on the couple, but on their family and community" and questions like that, a lot of different marriage customs suddenly make a lot more sense. I'm going to be using European examples (mostly English), but these are the questions you need to ask if you're doing any worldbuilding or writing historical fiction. Because these things matter. On the small farm community level, in England, farming mostly happened as a communal thing. That is, specific families would lease specific fields, but everyone in the village would come together to help and some things would be used in common. (The growing trend in 17th-19th Centuries of rich people enclosing common lands and using them for their own good instead of the common good is one reason poverty in the 19th Century was so dire.) But you needed to control how many kids there were: it was a balance between having enough hands to do the work, and having few enough mouths that you could afford to feed them all. So the eldest son would inherit the lease, he'd have enough to get married, and the younger sons would work for him and the community but not have the ability to get married because they wouldn't be able to feed their kids. If they worked hard, they might be able to take over the lease of another local family that had a tragedy; if they left the village they might have an opportunity somewhere else to find another way to make a living (but that was extremely rare, because people would make sure opportunities went to their own kin first so you'd probably end up doing the same sort of hard work for nothing more than room and board in a different village). To marry, you need resources; you need to be able to feed your children. And, ideally, you want your spouse to be able to contribute to those resources. So the girls would spend years building up a store of household goods, hoping to marry one of the older sons who had a lease and therefore could afford a family; if you didn't snag one of them, you probably didn't marry, and ended up doing the sort of hard-labor-for-nothing-more-than-room-and-board that your younger brothers were doing. It sucked for the younger children, but it made sure that there usually weren't more children than the land could support. It's not about love; it's about who could afford to support a family. (In many places on the continent, they divided the land up equally between all the sons, and that was fairer but ended up with lots of cases where there were simply too many mouths to feed.) If you had a trade--you were a blacksmith, say, or a weaver, or a tanner, or a cooper, or a baker--well, there was a finite amount of work in any given area. You would pass on the trade to one of your sons, and the others you would try to find jobs as apprentices in the hope that they might one day be able to open up their own shop, but realistically most of them wouldn't. And realistically, most of them would never have enough money to get married and support a family unless they were able to open a shop of their own ... or marry the only daughter of someone with such a shop, or the widow of one. And even if you weren't marrying to get the shop, you wanted someone whose family was in the same trade, because even if women were rarely formally apprenticed in a craft, there was a lot less hard division between "men's work" and "women's work" and it was much easier to run a successful shop if both spouses knew how to go about it. So you might fall in love with someone from a farming family ... but (if you had the money and resources to marry) you'd still probably end up marrying someone from the trade you'd been brought up to. Because, again, it's not about love; it's about making sure you have the resources (skills and equipment and contacts, in this case) to build a comfortable life and support a family. And also, about making sure you have connections with the people who are most likely to have the things you need in your daily life. If you were of the gentry or nobility, well, they were rich enough they weren't going to starve in a bad year, but they had a correspondingly greater desire to keep and maintain that status for their children. So the oldest son inherits the main bulk of the lands; the younger sons get professions like the army and the navy and the church, which may or may not pay them enough to support a family; the daughters get lump sums of money called a dowry. And you want to keep all that lovely money in the family. You want to keep the land intact. You want to keep the power intact. You want to make sure that your children will have the best life possible ... which means they need resources, which means you need to marry appropriately. You might fall in love, but if the person you love isn't an appropriate match, then you're probably not going to marry them because marriage is about collecting resources and keeping them in the family over generations. In all these cases, according to the society and mores of the day, if you allow your child to marry outside their sphere simply because they've fallen in love--if they marry "beneath" them, or if they marry when they don't have the resources to support a family, or if they marry someone from a different trade/walk of life--you are a bad parent. So they're in love, who cares. Love will not feed your grandchildren. I mean, if you're a decent parent you'll care about making sure their spouse is a good person they can get along with, but as long as the spouse is not actively abusive, marrying someone they don't care for (but who has the resources for marriage) is far more likely to end happily than marrying someone they love who doesn't have the resources. I mean, if you're a farm girl and you marry a younger son of a farming family who doesn't have land of his own, all it takes is one bad year and you and all your kids starve. If you're in a trade and you marry someone from outside the trade, your shop is less likely to suceed. If you have money and land and marry someone who is lower class, you will be socially outcast and likely fall in social status and wealth and being ostracized from your community has negative repercussions for you and your children. Our bone-deep association with marriage is that it's about love. But prior to the 19th Century, romantic love was a bonus in marriage. If you found someone you were in love with who loved you who was the right social group and had the right resources, that was awesome! But the right social group and the right resources was far more important to have. Think about that. Think about what it means to have "being in love" be an optional add-on, a nice thing if you can get it, rather than the purpose of marriage. And it's not even something that has to be related to marriage at all. Consider the medieval idea of courtly love, where knights would fall deeply, powerfully in love with great ladies, be visibly devoted to them, write them all sorts of love poetry ... and never put any serious thought to marrying them or even sleeping with them because relationships/marrriage and romantic love were in two mostly-separate conceptual boxes. Loving someone from afar was the ideal, not the tragedy. You'd be surprised how much of the social mores of the pre-20th Century world were based on "we have to keep resources in the family and make sure our resources are passed on to the next generation." Obviously, things directly related to marriage and inheritance, like entailments and marriage settlements and wills were a part of it, but also things like "who talks to whom." You know all those rules about needing to be properly introduced to someone in order to talk to them? And the husband/father needing to call on someone and make their acquaintance before the wife and/or daughters can meet him? That's about making sure your daughters only marry the right people. They can't fall in love with a guy they never talk to, or at least, it's harder to do so. If you only ever talk to the "right" people and you fall in love, your love is going to be one of the "right" people and you can safely marry them. If you only talk to the "right" people, anyone that you don't know (and that none of your friends know) is obviously not the "right" sort of person, and so if you never come into contact with them, the chances of them being able to marry into your circle of family and friends is much reduced. This is one of the reasons why connections were so valuable, too: if you were at the lowest rung of the gentry but had a cousin who was in a far higher level, you would probably get invited to their parties sometimes, and your kids might be able to marry up into that sphere because they had an "in." It's all about keeping all that lovely money in the family not just in this generation but for the generations to come. You will notice that I have been assuming that every marriage will produce children. These people didn't have contraceptives, just abortificants, and those abortificants were dangerous. If you weren't infertile, and you got married, you were probably going to have children. And if you didn't have children, it was seen as a great tragedy that (especially for women) lowered your social status. But even in cases of infertility, whatever wealth you had would pass down to the family because chances were you would have a niece or nephew to adopt. If there were any relations living, someone in the family would get it. But the ideal was for the couple to have children, because then both of the families that put resources into the marriage get a share of the wealth through the children who inherit it. It's all about keeping resources in the family. This changed over the course of the 19th Century, but it changed slowly. Consider Austen's novels. In Sense and Sensibility, of the two couples in love we see, Elinor and Mr. F can't marry until Mr. F has resources under his control (an appointment as a vicar), and Marianne and Willoughby ends in tragedy, and the happy ending for Marianne is marrying the nice-but-boring-and-dependable guy with lots of land (and hence wealth). In Pride and Prejudice, Jane wants to marry for love, Elizabeth wants to marry someone she respects (and ends up with someone she loves AND respects, because she is a virtuous heroine), and Charlotte just wants to be married to someone with good prospects even if he's an idiot. (If you're protesting about Elizabeth wanting to marry for love, you're thinking about an adaptation or fic, because it isn't in the book; she explicitly starts considering him as a desirable marriage partner when she visits Pemberly and sees a) how responsibly it's managed and b) how well he treats his servants and sister, i.e. the people he could abuse with impunity if he wanted to.) In Mansfield Park, the reason Fanny has no money or status and can be abused by Mrs Norris and her cousins is because Fanny's mother married for love and thus Fanny and her siblings are penniless and depending on charity. In Persuasion, Anne and Wentworth fall in love but don't marry because, while he has prospects, he can't afford a wife yet (and might not actually gain the status and wealth needed to support a family), and even after all the angst of their meeting again and thinking he would marry someone else, and they reconcile and are married, Anne still thinks that refusing him when he didn't have enough money to support a family was the right thing to do. Now, over the 19th Century, three things happened. First, the standard of living rose, mostly in the middle class and upper working classes. Second, all sorts of new opportunities developed. There were new ways of getting the resources necessary to live on besides inheriting them. Third, the novel flourished and there were all sorts of stories about true love conquering all. All of these things fed into each other. You could marry for love without it being an utter disaster, and there was a cultural stuff about marrying for love being okay. But it was a gradual change, and the higher you were in society the longer it took for that change to take hold. The upper classes in England were still marrying for social rank and money well into the mid-20th Century. To sum up: if you are writing a period fic, or a fantasy set in a low-tech world, chances are that "marrying for love" is something most people think is silly at best, and dangerously foolish at worst. Even people who fall in love and end up marrying for love might agree that they're being stupid to do so! Also, consider: 1) Who has resources? 2) How are those resources passed from generation to generation? 3) What are the social customs and mores that encourage this to happen in the "right" way? 4) What are the legal rules in place to enforce those customs and rules? 5) How does the family of the couple either benefit or lose from their marriage? If you take these factors into account, your fic will be a lot more accurate.

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[fyrapartnersearch]

I have several aliases I’ve used in the past, but right now, I go by Mack. I’m over 24+, looking for a few roleplayers of the darker and uninhibited variety. I’m on the search again after having a couple of my stories kinda slow down, so hopefully I can find some other things to keep me occupied and to keep my writing sharp. I work part-time while going to school, and even with the pandemic situation making my classes online for the time being, I can still be a bit streaky with my replies and such. Therefore, I would like a partner that can roll with the motions and allow me some patience as we craft our story. And yes, I would like to craft an overall story, despite the raunchy things I’m going to request, so someone who has no problem helping with world-building and stuff like that.

But I guess before I go into any talks of world-building, I should describe what I like and what I’m looking for. I write exclusively male characters in heteroseual pairings, so there wouldn’t need to be any worry about switching off genders if we go that route. In terms of genres - Right now, supernatural genres are the best bet to keep my interest. For the most part, anything with demons, vampires, witches, werewolves, gifted humans, anything of the like are pretty good with me. I like to have a dark, big-city type of atmosphere to have our characters in. I’m also into science fiction, cyberpunk-like things, where we can kind of just do what we want, make our own rules and such. Can go as massive as crafting entire solar systems, or just futuristic tech, either-or. I haven’t had as much success with crafting a good post-apocalyptic story that doesn’t include anything zombie-related, so I’d like to do that as well.

Also, another bonus if you’re a wrestling fan. 

I hope to bring a good deal to the table in terms of writing, and though I’d like to think of myself as pretty creative, sometimes I’ve gotten into the lull of crafting a story for the sake of smutty adventures. Which, hey, I never mind it, and if you don’t, all good. But sometimes I get inspired and I would really like to sit down and hash out ideas we’d love to incorporate, or just things we like to do. Writing-wise, I like to have both quantity and quality, but admittedly, I do find a longer post, somewhere in the 700-1000+ word range aesthetically more pleasing. Of course, if there are mistakes on end and the quality isn’t particularly appealing, then I would lose interest. Another particularly appealing thing I like to do is running multiple stories with our characters and creating an expansive cast, or at least running a main protagonist/antagonist of mine in different stories interacting with different characters.

One thing I’d also like to say is that I do enjoy mature plots with few limitations. Smut, gore, violence, crazy horror themes, body horror mixed in with supernatural stuff, anything like that is fair game for me. Yes, I enjoy writing smut, I know that might paint me out to be some sort of weirdo, and I’m perfectly fine with that. I enjoy thai milk tea as well, and I’m perfectly fine in being a weirdo for that. So something very comfortable in that regard would be great. I expect to have stories on the kinkier side of things, and stories on the more action-packing side of things. Some kinks I love include BDSM, incest, the unholy trinity (oral, anal, and such), dubious consent, hair-pulling, those sorts of things. A particularly darker kink that is not explored enough for me is pregnancy/impregnation/breeding. Also, since I love things like psychological trauma and experimentation (in science fiction and supernatural context), those are also highly desired. The manipulation of someone’s mind, body, and soul, combined with elements of corruption and body alteration/transformation – love.

Medium-wise, this will be over Googledocs. But we can use Discord to communicate and plan out things.

A few traits in a partner that I’m looking for, just to recap:

Ideally, someone who enjoys both quantity and quality, and who doesn’t mind being aesthetically pleasing. Like I said, Googledocs is my medium of choice, and you can do a few fancy little things in that.

A person willing to use various types of face claims, from alternative models to adult models/pornstars and not just traditional actors/actresses/musicians. I have a bevy of faces that I would love if someone used them against my characters. For an example, faces like Ellie Rayne (if you’d like to google her) are some of my favorite faces. Curvy, voluptuous, and tattoos. Just inquire about it if you’re unsure.

Someone who doesn’t shy away from porn-without-plot. Most of my stories will have plots, but sometimes, I enjoy a smutty one-off just for shits and giggles.

Someone with few to no limits. Can’t stress this enough. 

Someone who doesn’t come off as a total stick in the mud during conversation. I get politeness, but as of late, I’ve come across people who just didn’t seem all that excited, and their words kinda showed it. Getting one-word responses and things of that nature are clear turn-offs.

If you’re also open to potentially joining with a writing partner of mine, that would be a bonus as well. At the current moment, I only have two consistent partners, and as such, there are a lot of ideas that could use a third person to really flesh things out.

I’ve also been intrigued and have dabbled in the idea of playing a singular character and sort of starring them in their own story, so to speak, populating the sphere of our plot with secondary characters, or even other starring characters as enemies/rivals, friends/allies, lovers/frenemies, things like that. So someone willing to play multiple characters without hesitation or too much delay would be great as well.

I know I’m asking for quite a bit, but I am looking to be rather selective and picky about potential partners, and I would like not to feel that I have to compromise too much in order to find one. So if you are interested, I would like to know a little more than just “hey, I’m interested to roleplay”. Really sell yourself!

But yeah, feel free to hit me up through my email, razeyourminds@gmail.com. Also, let me know if you find Ellie Rayne to be the hottest of the hottest in the world, or even suggest a few gorgeous tattooed models to gawk over. Hope to find a few interesting partners!

[sserpente]

24 little kinks | Christmas Requests are now open! 🎄☃

“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”

“I do,” Loki chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat all of the chocolates inside at once.”

Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.

“I hardly need… toys to satisfy your needs, neither do you need any to satisfy mine. You are not… unchallenged when we are in bed together, are you, sweet one? Because I can ensure you, I can change that in a heartbeat…” He threatened teasingly. His cool lips brushed against your neck, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps on your sensitive skin.

“No… of course not… but experimenting with sex toys can be a lot of fun?”

You almost giggled to yourself despite your growing excitement. You had never actually taken Loki to a sex shop. That should be really interesting; and besides, you had been imagining him tying you up and blindfolding you countless times already. The God of Mischief made no secret out of his dominance, hunger and godly stamina in bed and he had not just once forced you into so many orgasms you had nearly passed out from all the breath-taking pleasure. So why not take it up a notch?

“You intend to buy an advent calendar full of… sex toys for us?” He repeated with raised eyebrows. You could tell he was beginning to like the idea—and what he could do to you, how he could tease you with all the things in this… naughty advent calendar.

You could practically feel him slowly changing his mind, arousal radiating off of him and making you squirm a little in joyful anticipation.

Finally, he sighed, an amused but cheeky smirk playing on his lips. “Very well. Where do we acquire this calendar?”

And with that teaser, I would like to announce that this year’s Christmas requests are now open! 🎄☃ How will it work? This year I’m working on a Christmas special. Everyday, Loki and RC will open a little door and find a new toy to play with... right until Christmas Eve. That should be twenty-four really interesting days, especially with Loki being thoroughly unfamiliar with the concept of sex toys and their function.

Ideally, I would be posting one door—one Imagine, each day until Christmas but due to work, classes, sleeping and baking Christmas biscuits, that might not always work out. Therefore, some doors might get a combined Imagine.

How does my request fit in? So now it’s your turn! Send me all of your (kinky) and Christmassy prompts for Loki. I already know what’s behind every little door, of course. But that doesn’t mean I’m hoping for loads of enticement/suggestions from you guys in my inbox. You know I love receiving your ideas! Please, feel free to request whatever Christmassy prompt you can come up with--most of which I will combine with my Christmas special--and also, do not hesitate to send me requests for other characters as well, if you have any. As this is a Christmas special, most Imagines will be for Loki (and I can’t complain because usually, 80% of all requests I receive are for our mischievous Trickster 😌) but if there’s a specific prompt/request, another character will, throughout the Christmas season, of course make an appearance too.

Requests will be open until November the 30th. I bet many of you guys are in a Christmassy mood already and while I only put away my Halloween decoration today, I’m sure you are as ready as me for some Christmassy prompts.

I will not be able to take regular requests this time, due to the sheer amount of Imagines I’m planning. Rest assured though, as soon as “Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker” comes out, I will be posting some Kylo Ren and General Hux Imagines in between. I might even be able to take some requests as soon as I’ve seen the movie (which I am super excited about).

Until December the 1st, I will be working on the remaining requests that are still sitting in my inbox, including a sequel for that Thomas Sharpe Imagine you’re all waiting for. ♥

As usual, if you would like to request, please send me an ask, not a direct message and not a comment under this post, simply so I can keep an overview.

I write for:

Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

General Hux (Star Wars)

Captain Boomerang (Suicide Squad)

Harley Quinn (Suicide Squad)

Eric (Divergent)

Loki (Thor/The Avengers)

Newt Scamander (Fantastic Beasts)

Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive)

Captain James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island)

Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Ragnar Lothbrok (Vikings) ATTENTION: I’ve only seen two seasons thus far. If you want to request something with Ragnar, please make sure not to include any spoilers!

Jonathan Pine (The Night Manager)

Thomas Sharpe (Crimson Peak)

Now, last but not least, please just make sure to read this quick FAQ before sending me a prompt. I only have a couple of rules but I really would appreciate if you considered them before submitting. 🤗

What do you write? I’ve been a passionate fanfiction writer for more than eight years. Thus, I write stories with my own OCs and Imagines with female reader inserts only. I don’t do personalised Imagines (e.g. specific appearance or name), Imagines with real existing people (like Tom Hiddleston), alpha/omegaverse or songfics (because I have a very specific music taste and don’t want to write a songfic about a song I don’t like).

The only things I don’t particularly enjoy writing about are RC having children and being a mother (unless it’s animals because I’m a proud cat mummy), or being a child. Suicide and self-harm are, with few exceptions concerning context, a no-go for me, as is gore. Other than that, I’m not big on AU’s that take place outside the actual canon universe (so, e.g. vampire!Loki is fine but barista!Loki without his powers in a world in which the Avengers don’t exist isn’t really my thing).

Do you take requests? I do! If you want to send in a prompt/an idea, however, please check the description of my blog before doing so to make sure requests are open. Requests that I receive while they are closed I don’t accept simply because of time management, with only very few exceptions.Please keep in mind: Given that with more than 15k followers, I tend to get up to 100 prompts at once, I choose those I personally like the most and/or that inspire me to write something–it is, unfortunately, impossible to write them all. 😭 I also like to combine requests that work together well to work in as many of your ideas as possible.

So, what should I request? Basically, anything you want. Don’t hesitate just because you think your request is not good enough or weird! If you’re still uncomfortable though, you can send it anonymously as well. Please be aware, however, that I only write what I am personally comfortable with. If I feel like I can’t make anything of your request, if I feel like it’s a great idea but a simple oneshot wouldn’t do justice to it, if I have already read/written something too similar or if it addresses something that is triggering for me, please don’t be upset if I delete it. That, of course, doesn’t mean your request sucks but, like every writer, I want to write stories I actually enjoy writing… or it would just feel like homework! 😅

Do NOT (and trust me, I see everything) send the exact same request you’ve sent to me to other writers as well, for I think that is rude and disrespectful. Should you do so, I’ll simply delete your request(s). If you want me to write something for you, that’s great and I’m flattered but if you send me a prompt, you either want me to write it for you or you don’t want it at all. It’s as simple as that.

How do you let people know that you’ve written/deleted their requests? If the request was anonymous, all I can do is put a note at the beginning of the story and thus make everybody aware that it was a request. I don’t copy the prompts to insert in the Imagine. If the person came off-anon, I tag them to let them know it was posted. If I choose not to write your request because of one of the above named reasons, I will not publish your ask but simply delete it. It would be mean to answer something like “there’s no way in hell I will write this” and I certainly don’t want to show anybody up. However, if you’ve been waiting for a request to be written for a long time already, feel free to ask me about it and I will, if you prefer it that way, answer you privately. Sometimes Tumblr swallows asks, too, unfortunately.

Would you also write about a different character if requested? That depends on the character and the request. You might have noticed that I am mostly into bad guys and villains, so you can’t expect me to write happy unicorn fluff with the world’s nicest super hero. Anyway, you can always ask but please don’t be disappointed if I decline. Naturally, I don’t write about characters from movies/tv shows/books I don’t know, neither do I write about characters that I personally don’t like.

Do you write smut?

Yes, I do. ;-)

Do you do roleplay? No, I don’t.

Do you have a masterlist? You can find my masterlist in the description of my blog, it’s accessable on mobile as well.

What’s your Ko-fi? It’s a website on which you can support me and my writing by buying me a coffee, or alternatively, a cuppa via PayPal. It’s fast, it’s safe (you can stay anonymous) and I would appreciate it so much!

So where and how can I buy you a coffee? Click on the Ko-fi button or the “Support me?” link on my blog. ♥

[scaleporch4]

Lady Totally Transforms Complexion Using Illegal And Also Dangerous 'barbie Medicine'.

How To Use Melanotan 2?

Content

Reveal Your Tan On The 'gram.

Follow The Sun

Melanotan 2 Injection Set.

General Wedding Event Discussion!: Tanning Injections!

Exactly How Prohibited Tanning Shots Which Activate Heart Problem Are Being Marketed To Uk Customers On Ebay.com

The 6 Bottom Line On Melanotan.

The sunlight's rays consist of ultra violet light that acts on unprotected skin and also enables it to manufacture Vitamin D. Although this is an extremely easy way to get vitamin d right into your body as well as gain the Vitamin D advantages, sun direct exposure should be controlled. Way too much sun exposure will lead to skin cancer and also early skin aging. Five to ten mins of everyday summer season sunlight direct exposure on unprotected skin such as the face, hands, arms, and back will certainly give sufficient ultra violet light exposure to produce the needed quantity of vitamin d for the body. There are many advantages Vitamin D has on your skin as well as total wellness. Regrettably, unlike other vitamins such as Vitamin C or Vitamin E, Vitamin D is frequently ignored in spite of its value in dealing with skin care troubles. The procedure includes guiding the Erbium Laser hand-piece across the skin to deeply scrub the surface.

Daily rubbing with a hydrating moisturiser can help, and there are lots of creams available that insurance claim to be helpful for stretch marks. Though there is no wonder moisturising treatment, if you're specifically worried, it really can't harm. We especially like chocolate butter, which has the included bonus of scenting charming. Stretch notes typically take place on the upper legs, hips, bottom and also abdominal area.

Reveal Your Tan On The 'gram.

The majority of Japanese didn't have a lot of cocoa powder around, which is typically a great resource of thiamine. Melanotan-- Allow's not act that we aren't vain individuals! If you are living in Norfolk and also do not wish to look like a ghost anymore, it is a good idea to find a tanning remedy. There are some tanning beds, yet in truth you do not intend to have this too often as it can create some poor negative effects. Supplement with Vitamin D-- there are numerous researches that demonstrate how essential vitamin D is for the mind.

Are nasal Tanners dangerous?

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Put the remaining a glass of wine and lemon juice right into the bottom of the tray. This recipe is terrific if you have great deals of people coming round for dinner.

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Can you tan with vitiligo?

Because vitiligo spots have no melanin, they can't tan. If the skin isn't protected with sunscreen, vitiligo patches may burn or scar. Getting a tan on the rest of your body will only highlight the white patches, especially if you have light skin.

Actually, as a result of its extremely high fondness for plasma binding proteins such as SHBG, mesterolone may actually work to potentate the activity of various other steroids by displacing a greater portion right into a totally free, unbound state. Extra recently; the drug is made use of mainly to deal with anaemia and muscular tissue losing in HIV clients. Nonetheless it is hardly ever prescribed for such uses and also as such is not normally seen in scientific setup in the UK.

Various other medications with much less side-effects have largely filled in oxymetholone. The content presented in the Cylex Service Directory consists of details from 3rd parties, among others from openly easily accessible sources, or from customers, that have a discussion page in our directory. Cylex can not be called to account or responsible for the precision, correctness, usefulness or reliability of the data. The brand, logo designs, photos as well as texts are the residential or commercial property of these third parties and their corresponding owners. If you have any type of questions or ideas concerning this issue, you rate to call our consumer assistance team. Melanotan France buy cheap as well as Hospital Supervisor and the group would love to invite you to Pershore Medical facility which creates component of Worcestershire Primary Care Count On.

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How Illegal Tanning Injections Which Activate Heart Problem Are Being Marketed To Uk Consumers On Ebay

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Future study ought to examine which brain locations and also neuropeptides are associated with the improved response to MTII in fcHF-fed rats.

Carl Alexander Cancer Research UK wellness details police officer discusses a lot more, "Using melanotan in the mission for a tan is a danger to your wellness.

Melanotan II is presently being utilized around the world primarily as an efficient sunless sun tanning Fundamentally; it might safeguard individuals by supplying them with a tan that would make them much less prone to melt with their daily exposure to the sun.

I made use of to go on a training course prior to leaving for a warm location as I melted easily yet hereafter size of time my skin has actually almost found out to tan better, possibly as a result of right stuff as I utilized to always go red in the years leading up to beginning it.

It appeared every woman in the country was looking for ways to mimic the future queen. Called the supposed "Kate Middleton Impact" by the media- practically every garment Kate wears shows up to market out in days, otherwise hrs. Brush the skin with a little olive oil and also period with salt and pepper. Cover with aluminum foil but ensure there's a space of air in between the salmon and the top of the aluminum foil, to ensure that the fish can steam.

This is a noticeable pointer, but consuming alcohol a lot of water works marvels. Salt in peanuts as well as crisps can create swelling, along with dehydrating your body. Bringing your own treats on board is often the most effective idea-- particularly as no one suches as overpaying for food from the trolley. Raw vegetables and fruit are excellent, hydrating things to consume airborne, and will contribute to you 5 a day too, excellent preparation for that unpreventable vacation splitting of your healthy and balanced diet regimen.

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The organic reason is thought to be when the collagen fibres within the skin's dermal layer experience tearing. This is why most reasons belong to rapid body shape adjustment which the skin is not able to adapt rapidly enough to. Melanotan Spain buy cheap develop during pregnancy and also throughout times of quick development such as the teenage years, or quick fat burning or weight gain can be a large aspect. Some individuals are more disposed to create them than others, so if you believe you experience specifically badly, it might be down to hereditary influence as well. Consuming water as well as preventing alcohol and coffee whilst you're flying will certainly maintain your body and skin hydrated.

Great news is, after that, that make up is really best stayed clear of for lengthy flights. The dry skin of the cabin triggers also one of the most supple skin to lose dampness and dry out. If you're a fan of all-natural skin care, aloe vera is one product that's a should have for your skin treatment routine.

Make up is often much more trouble than it deserves on flights. If you're up early in the wee hrs, then the last point you want to do is invested hours placing your face on.

[rodgersandhypnostein]

Gypsys, Tramps and Thieves Part 1 - Mister John Acton

Thursday, 8th of May, 1817.

Pemberton, Kent.

Another week, another village to perform and be gawked at. If there’s one thing I know to be true after 20 years in this life, it’s there are two types of attention: good attention and bad attention, and all me and my family have ever gotten in our lives is bad attention. It was bad enough to come from an Irish family born in England, where we’re treated like second-class citizens. It’s funny how even the poorest, baddest people feel as if they’re superior just because they were born English, and are even treated better by others! As if being born Irish wasn’t enough of a bad situation to be in, me and my family are travellers! While I’m proud of my heritage, and I suppose my lifestyle as well, I know that it’s not an ideal combination to have. So all my life, I’ve only ever been seen as the poor, uneducated Irish gypsy, to be laughed at by the kids and looked down on by the adults. Sometimes I think to myself how nice it would be to just live a normal life, in one place I can call my home, respected by my peers, where I don’t have to worry abou-

‘Bradán, will you get your head out of that book and get out here. Your brothers and I have been busting our arses to set up for the next show and you’ve been sat in here, doing fuck all’, my father, Seamus. He and I never really seemed to get on - he says that I think too much of myself because I learned to read, and I’ve never been good enough in his eyes.

Begrudgingly, I got up with as little visible annoyance as I could muster, with an obedient ‘yes father’. Now you know what I do for a living, me and my family run a travelling show. We can do anything! We can read your palms, contact your loved ones beyond, and can even control your very own mind. Yeah, we basically go from village to village scamming people for their money. We each have our own roles to play, my mother’s our ‘psychic’ she can tell your future and speak to the dead - for a steep price. My sister is the typical ‘gypsy beauty’, meant to draw in horny single men and entice them with her dancing. My brothers are the ‘strongmen’, they can lift anything, break anything and seduce any woman they want. My father preaches from the bible, and sells various concoctions to cure any ailment. And as for me, I’m the stage hypnotist, I get the pleasure of hypnotising people to act stupidly, a small moment of relief from my day.

Unsurprisingly, our reputation always seems to get to each village and town before we do. We always have someone telling us that we’re crooks and hethons, doomed for eternal damnation. But desire and curiosity always win out in the end, so we never seem to go without at least a decent amount of money. Horny men will always want to see the half-dressed girl shaking and gyrating on stage, and the older variety of said men will always waste their money if it means that they can have a chance of growing their hair back, before listening to the preacher, to atone for their night of sin.

As I was helping my brothers set up the stage for the show, two men, seemingly the village’s most eligible, and dare I say attractive, bachelors were having a walk together, and were heading right towards us. Of course they never approached us directly, they would never risk damaging their status by being seen with us. But I could hear them talking amongst themselves as they walked past.

‘Lord! It seems those menaces have decided to plague our village with their dastardly tricks’ One of the three, a shorter man with a decent build, but who had a nice and round bum.

‘John, don’t be so loud, they may hear us. These aren’t the kind of people we want to provoke’ another man said, in a distressed whisper. He was also fairly attractive, with short, straight blond hair, somewhat shorter than the first man, with a less muscular build to him.

‘Mark, don’t worry. They can’t understand a word we say, they don’t speak English. They can only speak in that barbaric Irish language. They never had that hideous tongue bashed out of them in school, because they never went to school. You have nothing to fear’, said one of them, who seemed to be the leader of the group. He had dark, curly hair with a beautiful bone structure and build. He obviously was every woman’s first choice for a husband in the village. And with that, they fell out of hearing distance. Twats.

Nothing else really happened that day, other than a few of the local women coming to stare at my brothers’ muscles, with them reciprocating by putting on a little for the women. But I couldn’t get what those two had been saying about me and my family. They were talking about us as if we were wild animals. The nerve of them to act as if we couldn’t even speak English, how insulting could they get! And they were meant to be the gentlemen of the village! But there was nothing I could do except daydream about what I could do to them.

Saturday, 10th of May 1817

Pemberton, Kent

Well, today’s the beginning of our week-long freakshow. The show hadn’t even been on for an hour before we got our first naysayer. It was one of the men who had been insulting us during their walk. As luck would have it, our little John fellow was the local priest in this parish, and had taken offence to our heathen practices. 

Normally we would ignore this type of people and continue with the show. And that was what I was planning to do, until a truly ‘dastardly trick’ popped into my head.

I walked over to the gentleman, putting my plan into action. ‘Excuse me, Mister?’

‘Acton, Mister John Acton, the priest of this parish. And as priest of this parish, I can’t stand by and allow my flock to be tempted by your unholy deeds’. He replied, rather aggressively, but that was to be expected.

‘Of course, Mister Acton. I can perfectly understand why you would be inclined to think that way. But that’s not necessarily what we do around here. In fact, I use my hypnotism to bring people’s inner soul and spirit out, so they can be brought closer to God. We’ve always been of the belief that we can never truly know the wisdom of our creator, but with an open heart we can begin to understand it. I can give you a demonstration if you’d like’ Absolute rubbish. All of it. But I needed him to believe it had something to do with God for him to agree.

‘All right. I’ll try it if it can help me understand God’s power and wisdom, but not here, I can’t let the parishioners see me agreeing to this.’ He gave in. Perfect. The fly enters the spider’s web, unaware of what’s in store for him.

‘Of course not. We’ll do it in private, besides, only God should know of your devotion to him.’

We began walking to the family carriage, and couldn’t help but get semi-hard at the idea of enslaving the first of the many attractive men in this village’.

‘Alright, Mister Acton, if you would sit yourself down there. Very good. So to begin I’ll just ask you to keep close attention to his pendant, as I slowly swing it from side to side, not breaking your gaze from it. Very good’. 

Now it begins, and I want to bring this man slowly to his downfall, as a bit of revenge for the insulting words he said yesterday. This is something I’m taking great pleasure in.

‘Now, as you concentrate more and more on the swinging of the pendant, your mind will be left more and more open for me to communicate with, and soon enough, God’s wisdom will be within sight’. This continued for a while, until I could clearly see that he was beginning to go under slightly.

‘Alright, I can see that your mind is opening more and more to my words, so I shall begin opening it. I will begin to count down from 10, and with each count, you will become more and more relaxed, and at 0, you’ll fall into a deep trance’.

‘10, getting more comfortable in your seat’

‘9, your body feeling almost weightless’

‘8, your breathing is getting deeper and deeper’

‘7, you’re beginning to sigh with relaxation at each breath’

‘6, your mind is beginning to lose control of your body’

‘5, you can’t help but increasingly hard from the relaxation’

‘4, you can’t help but rub your bum across the chair, for stimulation’

‘3, you’re slowly getting addicted to this relaxation and pleasure’

‘2, you’ll do anything to feel this relaxation and pleasure’

‘1, you’ll serve me in any way I command, to continue feeling this pleasure’

‘0, now sleep!’

And with that, the priest’s short, thick frame slumped over slightly in the chair, with a hard cock and arse on display, with a small, dreamy smile on his face.

‘When I snap my fingers, you’ll awaken and do anything I ask. I will also be able to bring you back to this state whenever I utter the words ‘butt boy’. Do you understand?’. Now that he was firmly under my control, I was going to have some fun with this man.

‘Yes’ he replied in a sleepy voice.

‘Yes Master, you need to say’ My cock instantly sprung to life with that command, realising the commanding potential I have.

‘Yes Master’, he replied in a pleasurable voice, no doubt because he obeyed my command.

‘Very good, slave. Now the first thing I want you to do is strip. God never intended for us humans to wear clothes, and thus to prove your faith to him, you must show him your rejection of such an unnatural practice’. Well, that and because I wanted to see that juicy arse in all its glory.

‘Yes Master’. With that, my newest slave began to strip down to his bare body. He then sat back down into his chair, but not before I got a glimpse of his perfect bum and decently-sized cock, pity it will never be used however.

‘Now, John. As you may be aware, the penis is the source of all human life. It is thus the closest to God we will ever come. Therefore, just as God should be worshipped and adored, so should the human penis. Luckily for you, I’m willing to let you do that on mine. You don’t have to fear anyone finding, it’ll be our little secret.’

‘Yes, penis must be worshipped’ He repeated, sliding down onto the floor. He then proceeded to pull my dick out of my trousers before lovingly gazing at it.

‘In fact, it’s been said that one of the best ways of showing your adoration of the male penis is to use your mouth. So go ahead, start licking it.’ Unsurprisingly, he obeyed. His licks began small, only using the tip of tongue for short licks. However, as he continued, and began to enjoy it more, he started using the whole surface of his tongue, licking from the tip to base, up and down.

‘Very good, you’re making it very happy indeed. Another way to show how much you love the male penis is to wrap your whole mouth around, and like how you licked, go up and down. I can promise you this will make the penis very appreciated.’ And with that, I began to get comfortable in my chair as the once zealous priest began blowing me.

Even though he was new at this, the young priest showed a lot of promise in giving head. I have to admit, my cock has never leaked this much from a first timer’s blowjob. I could certainly get used to this. Although, after a while my mind began to wander to his thick arse, and I suddenly felt the urge to fuck something, and with that mind, I gave my next order.

‘Stop slave, I have one more thing to share with you. My penis is feeling so good because of your worship, and it has decided to give you a gift. Now, the penis is the source of life, and it has been known to give life and purpose to a select few boys who choose to dedicate their lives to its service. I’m perfectly willing to bestow this gift onto you, should you choose to dedicate your life to me. Do you accept?’

Now was the make or break moment. It’s one thing to get a boy to give me a hummer under hypnosis, but another thing entirely for him to surrender his life to worship it. Even though he is firmly under my control, I’m not even sure if he’ll accept.

‘I do, Master.’ 

Sighing in satisfaction and victory, I began to strip my clothes, showing my new servant all he has to look forward to. I ordered him to crawl over to the bed, taking the opportunity to watch his arse moving as he crawled.

Now is the part I’ve been waiting for, ever since I saw his big bum yesterday afternoon. After days of lusting after the young priest, I’m finally going to have him all to myself.

Although my dick was fully lubed with my slaves spit, and would be perfectly adequate to slide between those cheeks, I couldn’t resist tasting him. I ravenously began eating his arse. His hole tasted divine, I could have spent the whole night licking it, getting more and more addicted to the taste. But I had to stop myself, so I could enjoy the feeling of his hole wrapped around my dick.

If I thought the taste of his hole was divine, it was nothing in comparison to the feeling around my dick. It was a tad too tight, but that problem will soon be dealt with. As soon as I could fit my entire dick up there, I went into a horny craze. Soon, all that went through the both of our minds was fucking. I didn’t care if anyone could see or hear, I just needed to fuck this boy’s brains out. 

This went on for what felt like hours, until finally, I came. My cum felt so nice and warm in his arsehole, and I could tell he enjoyed the sensation, and would soon be wanting more, which I’ll gladly give. I knew right then and there that this power over men is far too addictive for me to give up, and I made a resolution to myself that before the month was through, all the men in this village, both single and married, would feel the pleasure of my cock in their arse.

[greenwaterskeeter]

i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

[ayliffe]

Hi, I really value your input and would love to know your opinion on the following topics if you feel comfortable answering 1. Do you believe that famous artists(like stephen king or taylor swift) are regarded wildly as bad ppl bc they are millionaires? A lot of ppl include them on the "eat the rich" thing and I always thought that as long as you dont make your money exploiting ppl and you pay your taxes that it was fine being rich but idk it's making it hard for me to 1/4

to enjoy art all together bc of this mentality that having money = being bad 2)Do you think that taxing rich ppl is the solution to wealth inequality? And if so how would you go about it? 3)It seems that most countries are doing fine with the highest tax bracket being 50% like they have universal healthcare and free colleges so why do most americans want to raise the highest tax bracket if its already 50% (state and federal taxes) 2/4

4)Do you believe that this tax the rich movement is an international movement? It doesnt exist in third world countres bc ppl dont trust their government but does it exist in first world countries that arent america? I am a hardcore believer in people over profit and that billionaires should not exist but instead of raising the taxes doesnt it make more sense making those ppl actually pay their taxes since they dont? 3/4

Im feeling like a dick for believing the government shouldnt tax more than 50% on anyones income bc ppl make it seem like im a class traitor or something bc i believe that as long as there is no exploitation going on(living wages) and ppl pay their 50% then it should be fine but idk maybe im wrong 4/4

okay, um, wow. i can’t decide if i’m too drunk for this or too sober, but alright, sure.

disclaimer: i have never studied economics in my life.

1) i mean, i think it really depends on how you’re defining “widely regarded”. i’d lean towards saying no, outside of parts of tumblr, they aren’t widely regarded as bad people because they’re rich. your average person on the street is not going to judge you for liking stephen king or taylor swift. 

however -- and take this with a huge fucking lump of salt -- i believe the argument for placing taylor swift in particular on these “eat the rich” lists is how she became so rich. was it purely through talent? or did she and/or her family exploit other, less fortunate people to get there? i don’t know the answer to that, and i certainly won’t judge you for enjoying her music regardless. but i think that’s the reasoning, rather than “this person is bad because they are rich”, if that makes sense.

2) in an ideal world? sure! however, we don’t live in an ideal world. if i somehow had enough power to make Taxing The Rich a reality, i’d pretty much have to control the entire world, because i don’t think it’s possible to effectively tax the super rich unless we not only abolish tax havens but also make it so that literally every nation has high tax rates. of course, that doesn’t preclude corporations just committing fraud. i have no idea how i’d deal with that.

3) i’m not american. i can’t answer this, sorry. at a guess, it’s because the USA has more libertarian ideals than say, sweden, meaning that privatisation is more rampant and therefore that publicly-funded institutions are poorer. the obvious answer to this would be to raise taxes, thus pumping more money into public institutions. however, i know fuck all about the USA’s tax rates so i really can’t say for certain.

4) i... i mean, sure? certainly i don’t live in the US and i think we should raise our taxes. though it’s interesting you claim it’s only people in LDCs who don’t trust their government, because as someone who lives in the UK, i can tell you straight up that i don’t trust our government. anyway, yes, billionaires actually paying their taxes would be ideal, but as i said in point 2, that’s far easier said than done, since any tax-raising or even asking for the taxes companies already owe would pretty much definitely lead to said companies moving to countries where the tax rates are lower and the government cares less.

i guess the thing is -- i mean, sure, as long as there’s no exploitation going on, sure! but take, say, amazon, which has a widely-documented history of treating its workers like shit. i believe what people are getting at is that it isn’t possible to be absurdly rich without exploiting workers. though granted, i don’t know if raising taxes is the correct answer.

[ninadewitt]

Colour me Curious Part 2: Monday

Just another Ben Solo High School AU! 

Warnings: Swearing 

The only thing worse than a regular Monday, was the first Monday back after the winter break. It never mattered how long the holiday was, you just never felt rested; Christmas created the perfect opportunity for drunk family members to strangle you for information and force their, unwanted, opinions down your choked throat. The holiday was made worse by the pre-celebration preparations, where your mother would go on an intense cleaning spree creating a (Y/L/N) house reformation. Everyday household items such as the straighteners were deemed too offensive to be allowed to be within two miles of a guest. Therefore, your mother took it upon herself to move them to a nondescript location, without informing you that she was doing so, just to save you the embarrassment of having to explain to your relatives why you owned such a perverse item in the first place. Over the years you had gotten used to this strange behaviour and just let her be, but this time she had forgotten where she had hidden the appliance. So, when Monday morning came around and your, normally gloriously crisp locks, were stuck in a bun looking like a tumbleweed had made a home atop your head, it made an already shitty day into one that included some equally shitty hair. Thanks Mom!

And so, you sat at the lunch table with your group; Finn, Rey and Poe, shifting your hair around hoping to keep it in order, at least until the end of the day, and at the same time, actively trying to avoid being dragged into one of Poe’s daily school football rants. Although, one of your best friends he was a bit of a hot head regarding the sport, and ever since Kylo joined the team, with around a hundred pounds more muscle and an extra 8 inches in height, challenging him for captaincy, he became even more insufferable than usual. Finn usually listened intently, his doe eyes fawning over his ‘friends’ passion but even now he seemed a bit sick of listening to Poe’s anti-Ren speech, yawning and rolling his eyes.

This continued on until Rey eventually threw her hands up in the air and smacked them dramatically on the table, gritting out “Poe, please stop, my head is going to explode if you mention Ren’s ‘bad attitude and poor tactics’ one more time”

“All I’m saying, is that if a guy disappears for years, he can’t just come in expecting to be Captain, it just doesn’t happen, right (Y/N)?” For some reason he smacked your shoulder confidently while smirking at you, expecting some support.

“Oh please, as if she’s gonna be on your side, (Y/N) is the biggest traitor here, giving the Big Emo, ‘stalker’ eyes, every time he walks past. Haven’t you guys noticed how she’s become a massive book worm recently, hanging around the library, where Kylie spends all his spare time?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” the boys looked at one another and then back at you, with curious looks on their faces.

“Rey! What the fuck, why is this about me now? I have not been giving him ‘stalker’ eyes” and in an attempt to defend yourself, you sacrificed your last chip, chucking it at her with immense force and scrunching your brow in a way that let her know that you were pissed.

And Rey being Rey, was willing to challenge that look. picking the chip up from the table, looking you dead in the eye and crunching it, signalising that she did not give a fuck. “I can’t listen to football talk anymore, and if I have to sacrifice you to make him stop, I will. Sorry (Y/N) nothing personal.”

Sometimes you really hated her.

 Watching the silent chip filled stand-off that was occurring between the two of you, Finn, wanting to avoid being covered in lunch meat before his fifth period Trig, attempted to diffuse the situation

“So, who watched the Witcher over break?”

  “I did, it was great, loved Geralt” You replied, eager to change the subject but unfortunately, it looked as though you weren’t going to get out of this mess yet.

  “Of course you did, your love of Ren has exposed your cave man kink, you love an angsty man” Poe teased, apparently, he decided he didn’t want to be on your team anymore and high-fived Rey, forgetting their past beef as she joined in, deepening her voice and widening her shoulders:

  “Hm fuck, (Y/N), I love you, be Mrs Ren”

  “I’d die for you (Y/N), I’m ignoring you to keep my heart safe”

  “you like it when I grunt, I’ll show you a grunt”

  It was at this point that you regretted munching down all your chips with such haste, and noticing the unfortunate lack of ammo you, instead of attacking the duo, proceeded to flip both of them off and dig your head into the table, with your bun whacking it dramatically in the process. However, this seemed to only give the pair more confidence:

 “I only ever hunt for my own food and I kill my prey simply by raising my left hand threateningly, I can provide for our family (Y/N).”

“By the grace of my goth training I will not be seduced by Coldplay.”

 When the bell went off, you practically skipped to biology, moving away from the trio, still holding up your middle fingers, as Rey and Poe practically crawled to class, wheezing the entire way. It was Monday lunches like those that really made you thankful that none of your friends were interested in bio, with both Rey and Poe focusing on Physics and Finn avoiding sciences as though they were the plague. Its not that you didn’t love them and their bantering, but sometimes when you were in a mood, like today, it was hard not to get a bit salty about the whole situation and just need a break.

A break to work on your Solo experiment. It was on the walk to class when you thought about whether Kylo would acknowledge you today, that you realised that maybe Rey was right about your stalker eyes. But now was no time to back down. You knew that with Kylo it was all about consistency, he was like a jittery animal; jump at him and he will almost definitely run for the bushes and avoid you for life, but if you approach him slowly, letting him gain some familiarity, maybe throwing in some “sksksk-ing” as though he were a cat, he might let you in. So, in that logic you assumed that if you popped up around him now and again, he might realise that you mean no harm. Or he would avoid you further, only time would tell.

Reaching the class room and plonking down in one of those high-up science stools you began to ponder; why did science feel the need to make its seats absurdly tall. They were those types of seats that were, normally, exclusively used at hipster ice cream parlours or smoothie bars. They always made sitting down so uncomfortable, giving you absolutely no back support and your knees would consistently knock off the metal bar of the desk leaving an unflattering gum stain on your jeans, for the rest of the day. Maybe that’s why everyone found science hard to grasp, because they spent the whole period trying to contort their bodies in a way that would make sitting comfortable.  It was during that very intelligent inner monologue that Kylo stomped in and plopped into his seat, on the other side of the class, crunching his knees under the desk. You could practically hear his six-foot frame groan at being pushed into such an awkward seat. That couldn’t be comfortable you thought, before diverting your attention from the dark prince to Mrs Barr, ready to be riveted by some spores, fungi and bacterium. Delicious.

And all was going swell up until the end of the period; your notes were tidy, you only lost interest a couple of times but you seemed to understand what she was getting at, then she started talking about the next assignment. Partner work was the first issue with the task. It wasn’t ideal but you always knew that Jess would be willing to group up, but then, issue number two, Mrs Barr pulled a fast one and said that she would be picking the pairs. Well, fuck. Finally, for issue number three, what did the woman do? She only went and paired you up with Kylo, just before sending the class away, to go figure out in their teams what they were going to do their projects on.

To some people this would have been a godsend, but when you saw his gaze latch on to you and his frown deepen, you couldn’t help but want to crawl into a hole and die. Yes, you wanted to get him to be your friend again and yes, you suppose this would help, but you wanted the reconciliation to be done on your terms. Your slow and steady pace. This caused the process to go from a crawl to a sprint and quite frankly, it was probably going to give you whiplash. And if that didn’t Kylo suddenly being right in front of your face would. Somehow despite his large stature, he could move incredibly quietly if he put his mind to it. It made you wonder if he stomped down the hallways for theatrical purposes, maybe you could ask him when he stopped staring daggers at you. But it didn’t look like he would anytime soon.

 “Oh, Hi, Kylo” you stuttered out to him, tilting your head up as far as it would go, he was much taller up close.

 “We are gonna need a study space, my house is empty, Leia’s working. So, assuming you can walk ten feet without falling we can work there.”

 Wow, maybe Poe was right about him lacking some social skills.

“Yep, that’s fine” you replied in a less friendly tone than before, sure you wanted him to be your friend, but you weren’t going to be a doormat.

 “Fine, four o’clock, don’t be late.” And with that he stomped away in a cloud of rage.

 Well, maybe you made a mistake in wanting to be his friend again. You supposed you would find out after school.

~This cool Kid wanted to be tagged and you can be too @shockwavee (But Idk if I’m doing it right)

[bhavbazar]

How Does Fashion Influence the Lives of Students

This is an era of fashion and fashion is very influential to our lives. In fact, it adds diversity to our lives by offering an aspect of enthusiasm to strive for something new and different, otherwise it would be a monotonous life if we were supposed to dress up and act in the same manner.

Fashion is an expression of a distinctive style particularly in clothing, footwear, accessories or makeup. It belongs to the style of doing something, looking different and dealing with others. It encircles a wide range of categorization like behavior, speech, actions, manners and lifestyle. There is much intellectual discussion over fashion and clothing and their importance within present day society. Fashion and clothing can be defined as many things that hold our society together. Fashion can be defined as an existing norm or style of dress, manners and way of socializing, whereas clothing is defined as garments collectively. If fashion and clothing were eliminated from our lives there would be no room for individuality and the world’s population would be the same. There also would be a loss of the distinctions between social classes, which was much defined in the 18th century but is still present today. The eradication of fashion and clothing would also change the dynamics of the social world and social relationships.

Mod, short form of ‘modern’, refers to a youth lifestyle that came out from London during 1960s and quickly spread to other parts of the world. Being fashionable is not only desirable but also satisfying. It is very usual that the young students get attracted to fashion the most and start following the trends instantly so fashion influences our youth strongly. Fashion continually has an impact on the society. It affects our views and attitude towards social culture. We introduce new ways of lifestyle through fashion and create awareness within ourselves to reinstate a new line of customs. It is a leading social statement for students to make an outside appearance to their social circle. Malcolm Barnard says in his book Fashion as Communication, “Fashion and clothing have always been explained as forms of communication” (39). Students use fashion to exchange their feelings and beliefs. They use fashion as a way of social contact with reference to scrutiny for all sorts of people. Fashion is a way of communication to convey with the world what their personality really says.

The decade of 1920 is called the Age of Flaming Youth because of its wild and jazzy expression. In this period the energy of youth was set free in a new way and no style seemed too ridiculous to become a high fashion. Our world has globalized. Celebrities play very important role in the lives of youth. Students look up to their favorite icons to keep themselves up to date. While watching television or using internet, they can easily be attracted by a variety of fashionable concepts. Moreover, the students idealize their favorite celebrities and they always have a desire to look like them so they do their best to imitate the appearance and lifestyle of their idols. They are trying to grasp all the existing fashion from their society to enhance their personality. Whenever they socialize, they talk about new things which could be adapted. They use non-natural way of expression, speech and mannerism in their routine lives which is relatively artificial.

In my point of view, there are two categories i.e. positive and negative impact of fashion on students.

The fashion in our society has a lot of negative impact on students. They only think about new fashion and this result in spending of a large amount of money. Therefore, they are not able to become aware of other important needs of life. It always distracts them from studies. Once a style or fashion gets in a trend, it is instantly chased by student community regardless of the fact that how much hassle it leads to. On the other hand they are caught in the confusion of fashion due to impact of society. To follow a certain fashion, one has to adopt some actions and to do so some students go beyond their limits just to attract their surroundings. Eventually they become hopeless instead of being ingenious and suffered from depression for being within fashion. On the other hand, it is also a thought that the money spending on Fashion could be spent for various other purposes like charity and helping the poor.

Fashion creates an inaccessible standard for students. They all want to be attractive and glamorous like the celebrities on television or in magazines hence they spend a lot of time and money just to build up a good impression on people around them. However, they fail to make a statement most of the time that leads to a low self esteem. It also creates a clash of thoughts between them and their friends that may lead to jealousy factor and as a result ruin their relationship with friends. Students start judging people by their outlook appearance and those who cannot spend sufficient amount on their outward look, eventually become persecuted which decreased their confidence level to certain extent.

Students who give more concentration to fashion are generally least conscious about their studies. They think that by adopting certain fashion trends, they will achieve certain distinction among the peers therefore they start giving less importance to their academic careers.

There are some positive points of being fashionable as well. For instance, when teenagers feel good because of the way they look, it gives a high sense of worth and confidence in their personalities. Moreover they feel more independent and acceptable in a social context. If students follow a certain trend, it facilitates them to recognize their own personalities by meeting different people from the society with the same interests and sense of style. Wearing trendy clothes shows a person’s status. People assume a person more progressive if he is wearing fashionable clothes. Malcolm Barnard says in his book Fashion as Communication, “Fashion and clothing have always been explained as forms of communication”

Students eventually come to know that it’s not good for them to follow or imitate others all the time. Instead, they should learn how to be innovative and make their own sense of style. That helps them to be more strong, independent and imaginative. Fashion is the name of expressing oneself.It proves that the people have liberty to feel comfortable about themselves and that results in a more successful and prosperous society.

Fashion is a form of art and because art is beneficial to society so same goes for fashion as well.Fashion is a big reason for companies to invest more into the expansion of latest clothing, trends, and better living. We cannot disagree with the fact that fashion has a significant place on the life of every student. At times, it can be the source of things that make the life more pleasant. On the other hand, it can be destructive for the lives of certain people. So it’s better to keep yourself modernized with fashion but if it is damaging your academic performance by any mean, you should keep yourself away from that. Generally, fashion can be entertaining, exciting and harmless. Fashion is a money making method that can provide employment to thousands of people.

There should be stability in the lives of students while pursuing fashion. They should be aware of the fact that the fashion within limits is admirable but when the limits are crossed, they have to face many problems. Their prime responsibility is to fill up themselves with the asset of knowledge instead of running after the wildness of deceptive fashion world. There should be a right balance between being fashionable and getting away from our roots. Students should know the fact that they have maximum time to indulge themselves to the world of lavishness after they completed their studies.So they should give their utmost devotion to education presently for time and tide waits for none.

Being trendy and fashionable is just our own wish, no one can force us to do it and it’s our own decision that how much and what type of fashion we prefer according to place and requirement. Though this time of 21st century in Pakistan mostly people are affected by glamorous world and style of fashion but still they have not forgotten our traditions and culture which is the priority and symbol of our country.

[kotstarpro]

How Does Fashion Influence the Lives of Students?

This is an era of fashion and fashion is very influential to our lives. In fact, it adds diversity to our lives by offering an aspect of enthusiasm to strive for something new and different, otherwise it would be a monotonous life if we were supposed to dress up and act in the same manner.

Fashion is an expression of a distinctive style particularly in clothing, footwear, accessories or makeup. It belongs to the style of doing something, looking different and dealing with others. It encircles a wide range of categorization like behavior, speech, actions, manners and lifestyle. There is much intellectual discussion over fashion and clothing and their importance within present day society. Fashion and clothing can be defined as many things that hold our society together. Fashion can be defined as an existing norm or style of dress, manners and way of socializing, whereas clothing is defined as garments collectively. If fashion and clothing were eliminated from our lives there would be no room for individuality and the world's population would be the same. There also would be a loss of the distinctions between social classes, which was much defined in the 18th century but is still present today. The eradication of fashion and clothing would also change the dynamics of the social world and social relationships.

Mod, short form of 'modern', refers to a youth lifestyle that came out from London during 1960s and quickly spread to other parts of the world. Being fashionable is not only desirable but also satisfying. It is very usual that the young students get attracted to fashion the most and start following the trends instantly so fashion influences our youth strongly. Fashion continually has an impact on the society. It affects our views and attitude towards social culture. We introduce new ways of lifestyle through fashion and create awareness within ourselves to reinstate a new line of customs. It is a leading social statement for students to make an outside appearance to their social circle. Malcolm Barnard says in his book Fashion as Communication, "Fashion and clothing have always been explained as forms of communication" (39). Students use fashion to exchange their feelings and beliefs. They use fashion as a way of social contact with reference to scrutiny for all sorts of people. Fashion is a way of communication to convey with the world what their personality really says.

The decade of 1920 is called the Age of Flaming Youth because of its wild and jazzy expression. In this period the energy of youth was set free in a new way and no style seemed too ridiculous to become a high fashion. Our world has globalized. Celebrities play very important role in the lives of youth. Students look up to their favorite icons to keep themselves up to date. While watching television or using internet, they can easily be attracted by a variety of fashionable concepts. Moreover, the students idealize their favorite celebrities and they always have a desire to look like them so they do their best to imitate the appearance and lifestyle of their idols. They are trying to grasp all the existing fashion from their society to enhance their personality. Whenever they socialize, they talk about new things which could be adapted. They use non-natural way of expression, speech and mannerism in their routine lives which is relatively artificial.

In my point of view, there are two categories i.e. positive and negative impact of fashion on students.

The fashion in our society has a lot of negative impact on students. They only think about new fashion and this result in spending of a large amount of money. Therefore, they are not able to become aware of other important needs of life. It always distracts them from studies. Once a style or fashion gets in a trend, it is instantly chased by student community regardless of the fact that how much hassle it leads to. On the other hand they are caught in the confusion of fashion due to impact of society. To follow a certain fashion, one has to adopt some actions and to do so some students go beyond their limits just to attract their surroundings. Eventually they become hopeless instead of being ingenious and suffered from depression for being within fashion. On the other hand, it is also a thought that the money spending on Fashion could be spent for various other purposes like charity and helping the poor.

Fashion creates an inaccessible standard for students. They all want to be attractive and glamorous like the celebrities on television or in magazines hence they spend a lot of time and money just to build up a good impression on people around them. However, they fail to make a statement most of the time that leads to a low self esteem. It also creates a clash of thoughts between them and their friends that may lead to jealousy factor and as a result ruin their relationship with friends. Students start judging people by their outlook appearance and those who cannot spend sufficient amount on their outward look, eventually become persecuted which decreased their confidence level to certain extent.

Students who give more concentration to fashion are generally least conscious about their studies. They think that by adopting certain fashion trends, they will achieve certain distinction among the peers therefore they start giving less importance to their academic careers.

There are some positive points of being fashionable as well. For instance, when teenagers feel good because of the way they look, it gives a high sense of worth and confidence in their personalities. Moreover they feel more independent and acceptable in a social context. If students follow a certain trend, it facilitates them to recognize their own personalities by meeting different people from the society with the same interests and sense of style. Wearing trendy clothes shows a person's status. People assume a person more progressive if he is wearing fashionable clothes. Malcolm Barnard says in his book Fashion as Communication, "Fashion and clothing have always been explained as forms of communication"

Students eventually come to know that it's not good for them to follow or imitate others all the time. Instead, they should learn how to be innovative and make their own sense of style. That helps them to be more strong, independent and imaginative. Fashion is the name of expressing oneself.It proves that the people have liberty to feel comfortable about themselves and that results in a more successful and prosperous society.

Fashion is a form of art and because art is beneficial to society so same goes for fashion as well.Fashion is a big reason for companies to invest more into the expansion of latest clothing, trends, and better living. We cannot disagree with the fact that fashion has a significant place on the life of every student. At times, it can be the source of things that make the life more pleasant. On the other hand, it can be destructive for the lives of certain people. So it's better to keep yourself modernized with fashion but if it is damaging your academic performance by any mean, you should keep yourself away from that. Generally, fashion can be entertaining, exciting and harmless. Fashion is a money making method that can provide employment to thousands of people.

There should be stability in the lives of students while pursuing fashion. They should be aware of the fact that the fashion within limits is admirable but when the limits are crossed, they have to face many problems. Their prime responsibility is to fill up themselves with the asset of knowledge instead of running after the wildness of deceptive fashion world. There should be a right balance between being fashionable and getting away from our roots. Students should know the fact that they have maximum time to indulge themselves to the world of lavishness after they completed their studies.So they should give their utmost devotion to education presently for time and tide waits for none.

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[fyrapartnersearch]

[ the crooked ones go. ]

I have several aliases I’ve used in the past, but right now, I go by Mack. I’m over 24+, looking for a few roleplayers of the darker and uninhibited variety. I’m on the search again after having a couple of my stories kinda slow down, so hopefully I can find some other things to keep me occupied and to keep my writing sharp. I work part-time while going to school, and even with the pandemic situation making my classes online for the time being, I can still be a bit streaky with my replies and such. Therefore, I would like a partner that can roll with the motions and allow me some patience as we craft our story. And yes, I would like to craft an overall story, despite the raunchy things I’m going to request, so someone who has no problem helping with world-building and stuff like that.

But I guess before I go into any talks of world-building, I should describe what I like and what I’m looking for. I write exclusively male characters in heteroseual pairings, so there wouldn’t need to be any worry about switching off genders if we go that route. In terms of genres - Right now, supernatural genres are the best bet to keep my interest. For the most part, anything with demons, vampires, witches, werewolves, gifted humans, anything of the like are pretty good with me. I like to have a dark, big-city type of atmosphere to have our characters in. I’m also into science fiction, cyberpunk-like things, where we can kind of just do what we want, make our own rules and such. Can go as massive as crafting entire solar systems, or just futuristic tech, either-or. I haven’t had as much success with crafting a good post-apocalyptic story that doesn’t include anything zombie-related, so I’d like to do that as well.

Also, another bonus if you’re a wrestling fan. 

I hope to bring a good deal to the table in terms of writing, and though I’d like to think of myself as pretty creative, sometimes I’ve gotten into the lull of crafting a story for the sake of smutty adventures. Which, hey, I never mind it, and if you don’t, all good. But sometimes I get inspired and I would really like to sit down and hash out ideas we’d love to incorporate, or just things we like to do. Writing-wise, I like to have both quantity and quality, but admittedly, I do find a longer post, somewhere in the 700-1000+ word range aesthetically more pleasing. Of course, if there are mistakes on end and the quality isn’t particularly appealing, then I would lose interest. Another particularly appealing thing I like to do is running multiple stories with our characters and creating an expansive cast, or at least running a main protagonist/antagonist of mine in different stories interacting with different characters.

One thing I’d also like to say is that I do enjoy mature plots with few limitations. Smut, gore, violence, crazy horror themes, body horror mixed in with supernatural stuff, anything like that is fair game for me. Yes, I enjoy writing smut, I know that might paint me out to be some sort of weirdo, and I’m perfectly fine with that. I enjoy thai milk tea as well, and I’m perfectly fine in being a weirdo for that. So something very comfortable in that regard would be great. I expect to have stories on the kinkier side of things, and stories on the more action-packing side of things. Some kinks I love include BDSM, incest, the unholy trinity (oral, anal, and such), dubious consent, hair-pulling, those sorts of things. A particularly darker kink that is not explored enough for me is pregnancy/impregnation/breeding. Also, since I love things like psychological trauma and experimentation (in science fiction and supernatural context), those are also highly desired. The manipulation of someone’s mind, body, and soul, combined with elements of corruption and body alteration/transformation – love.

Medium-wise, this will be over Googledocs. But we can use Discord to communicate and plan out things.

A few traits in a partner that I’m looking for, just to recap:

Ideally, someone who enjoys both quantity and quality, and who doesn’t mind being aesthetically pleasing. Like I said, Googledocs is my medium of choice, and you can do a few fancy little things in that.

A person willing to use various types of face claims, from alternative models to adult models/pornstars and not just traditional actors/actresses/musicians. I have a bevy of faces that I would love if someone used them against my characters. For an example, faces like Ellie Rayne (if you’d like to google her) are some of my favorite faces. Curvy, voluptuous, and tattoos. Just inquire about it if you’re unsure.

Someone who doesn’t shy away from porn-without-plot. Most of my stories will have plots, but sometimes, I enjoy a smutty one-off just for shits and giggles.

Someone with few to no limits. Can’t stress this enough. 

Someone who doesn’t come off as a total stick in the mud during conversation. I get politeness, but as of late, I’ve come across people who just didn’t seem all that excited, and their words kinda showed it. Getting one-word responses and things of that nature are clear turn-offs.

If you’re also open to potentially joining with a writing partner of mine, that would be a bonus as well. At the current moment, I only have two consistent partners, and as such, there are a lot of ideas that could use a third person to really flesh things out.

I’ve also been intrigued and have dabbled in the idea of playing a singular character and sort of starring them in their own story, so to speak, populating the sphere of our plot with secondary characters, or even other starring characters as enemies/rivals, friends/allies, lovers/frenemies, things like that. So someone willing to play multiple characters without hesitation or too much delay would be great as well.

I know I’m asking for quite a bit, but I am looking to be rather selective and picky about potential partners, and I would like not to feel that I have to compromise too much in order to find one. So if you are interested, I would like to know a little more than just “hey, I’m interested to roleplay”. Really sell yourself!

But yeah, feel free to hit me up through my email, razeyourminds@gmail.com. Also, let me know if you find Ellie Rayne to be the hottest of the hottest in the world, or even suggest a few gorgeous tattooed models to gawk over. Hope to find a few interesting partners!