#<- the diet tags are for blacklisting purposes

[isthereameaningtothissong]

Raw Veganism and Raw Carnivorism are 2 sides of the same extreme dieting coin

[wyrdify]

Epilepsy Fact #2

November is Epilepsy Awareness month, so I will attempt to make one post each day regarding it to help others learn about it. Please note that I am not a medical professional. I’m just a person who has epilepsy (started in 2007 and officially diagnosed in 2010).

These posts WILL be tagged with #medical tw for blacklisting purposes. 

Today, I’m not going to share a fact so much as talk about why this matters to me. That brief introduction paragraph says a little, but I want to paint a bigger and more detailed picture. I’ll try to make this brief, and I will note that topics such as neglect and abuse will be prevalent. They will be tagged as well, and I’m putting everything under a readmore to be safe.

So... let’s get started.

In March of 2007, when I was sixteen and still a junior in high school, I started experiencing myoclonic seizures. These showed up as both of my arms involuntarily jerking. I had no idea what they were at the time and just thought of them as muscle spasms. They only happened in the morning, always in clusters, and I wouldn’t have them again for at least a couple of weeks. At the time, I thought they were merely annoying since they made it a challenge to eat my breakfast, and conversations with my friend on the way to school a little odd (thankfully she drove).

My parents eventually noticed, and someone from their cult group had a biofeedback machine. Nothing came back that showed epilepsy; I’m not even sure what the machine did. All the person told me was that I might have a slight dairy allergy, and that might be causing issues. This translated to, “My [child] has a dairy allergy that’s causing muscle spasms, so I must remove dairy from [their] diet,” for my mother. As my parents are rather anti-doctor, this was the closest thing I saw to a medical professional outside of my high school nurse for years. I did see a pediatrician as required by my school, and she was pressured by my mother to tell me that my seizures weren’t neurological.

Fast forward to the summer of 2007. I fell down the stairs in my parents’ house because of seizures. Outside of a bruise on my right leg, getting the wind knocked out of me, and soreness that followed for a few days after, I was relatively unharmed. The fall didn’t stop the seizures--no, those continued. Instead of taking me to a hospital, or otherwise calling a doctor, my mother sat me down on my living room couch so she and my younger sister could perform reiki on me. I was also forbidden from using the computer for a few days.

As the years went on, the seizures started getting worse. The clusters would last for longer, and I’d have them nearly every day. They didn’t just happen when I had a poor night’s sleep. Soon, it wasn’t just my arms jerking either, but my legs giving out from under me too. Then, I started having them in the middle of my college classes seemingly out of nowhere. What started out as annoying spasms to me because terrifying.

Still no doctor. Still no diagnosis other than me doing extensive research and coming to the conclusion that I probably had juvenile myoclonic epilepsy. According to my parents, though, my seizures were the result of spending too much time on the company, of being lazy, or not sticking hard enough to my dairy-free diet. If I fell in the shower due to a seizure, it was my own fault, and I knew better than to shower while they were happening.

2009: my then-boyfriend (now husband) moved out of his parents’ house in California and started living with my family. Part of that was to be closer to his grandparents who lived a little more than an hour from me. We started dating in May of 2009, and he moved in around August. Operation “Get [Kai] Some Medical Help” was now underway. Before I could see a doctor, though, my parents wanted me to do three things:

1. See our family chiropractor, who happened to be a doctor, for his professional opinion. 2. See my massage therapist to rule out toxins in my body causing the “muscle spasms.” 3. Go to the gym 2-3 times/per week for two weeks.

The result? Both the chiropractor and massage therapist told me that the issue was neurological--my father went to see the chiropractor after we left just to confirm this. Seizures continued despite exercise. Finally, I got to see a doctor who referred me to a neurologist. In December of 2009, I had an MRI and EEG. Once he received the results of my EEG, my neurologist called me and told me that it showed unusual electrical activity in my brain.

January 5th, 2010: I officially received my epilepsy diagnosis. Shortly thereafter, I started on my first anti-convulsant. Two more anti-convulsants, and two trips to the EG due to allergic reactions, later, and I finally had my seizures under control. I stopped having them. In summer of 2011, I got my first job. In 2012, just a week or two before my birthday, I finally got my driver’s license.

My life changed drastically after I received my diagnosis. Not only did I have medical professionals telling me that this wasn’t my fault, but I had control over my body again. I could finally be a part of the world again, and I didn’t wake up every morning feeling like my brain was going to kill me. Knowing what made my arms involuntarily jerk was powerful (not that we know what causes my epilepsy, but that’s another discussion all together). It was liberating.

Do I like that I have epilepsy? No, it makes certain aspects of my life difficult, and I’ll live with it for the rest of my life. If there are any positives to take out of my story, it’s that knowledge is power, a diagnosis can be life-changing in multiple ways, and awareness can literally save lives. If my story can help someone else, then I’ll keep telling it. I’ll keep sharing. I’ll keep persevering.

In later posts, I will talk about some specific topics I brought up here: photosensitive epilepsy, what myoclonic seizures are, different anti-convulsants, and an EEG is like. As always, if you have any questions related to epilepsy, feel free to ask! I’ll answer to the best of my ability.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. It is greatly appreciated. 💜

[artistic-writer]

The Contract :: CS Omegaverse :: Chapter 1

Title: The Contract Rating: E Summary: Emma had never wanted much in her life, despite being married to one of the richest men in the world. For ten years she has felt like a prisoner in her own marriage, denied the one thing she wants the most, but her husband cannot help but bargain her want like a cheap business deal.  Enter Killian Jones, the Alpha her husband has hired to make sure she gets what she wants. And then some. A/N: This is an Omegaverse fic featuring A/B/O dynamics.  Whilst this varies from fandom to fandom, for the purposes of my fic, there will be no mpreg.  Just so you know.  There will however be knotting, breeding, heats and other delicious things that come along with A/B/O.  If you do not know what A/B/O is, feel free to message me :)  Many thanks to @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke and @effulgentcolors for letting me bounce my complicated ideas of you lol

Also, I am no longer doing a tag list.  This is something I have struggled with because of memory issues, so to be fair to everyone, and to make sure you don’t miss out, you should allow notifications or subscribe on AO3.  If you wish to stay away from this fic, blacklist the A/B/O tag.

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Emma Swan was sick. Her head pounded from the daylight that had crept its way through her bedroom curtains, slipping through the only space it could which lead right across her face. The orange blaze burned its mark into her forehead, finally annoying her enough that she opened her eyes the tiniest crack and lazily watched the specks of dust dancing in the beam. Luckily for her, the sun was slow moving, and she easily avoided it by rolling out of the way across the huge queen size bed that she shared with her husband.

Unluckily for her, he was still asleep right beside her. He was normally gone by now.

Graham Humbert was normally an early riser, waking, showering and eating his breakfast like a military man who had repeated the same morning every single day of his life. But he wasn’t any sort of combat veteran, and held no stories of anything more sinister than a board meeting. No. Routine was his everything. There was never any room in his busy CEO life for any deviation and as a consequence, Emma had paid the ultimate price of marrying him.

She was lonely. He was good looking, she couldn’t deny that, and as she gazed upon the gentle rise and fall of his smooth back muscles as he snored softly beside her, she couldn’t help the smile that had crept across her face. Lonely or not, he was still the man who had married her, despite all of her issues, and for that she would always love him. And it wasn’t just today that Emma was feeling out of sorts; she had been sick her entire life.

It had all begun when she was around five or six, but she didn’t remember much of it, only the constant trips to and from the doctor’s office, but when she really thought about it, they were nothing like what they are today. The offices always seemed darker, more shady, and despite her heavy diet of prescription vitamins and supplements to keep the sickness at bay, she never remembered an actual doctor ever examining her.

She was just sick.

Her foster father had been a loving man, doting on her despite having three sons of his own as well, and giving her everything that she wanted. That was, until she had gotten sick. He had changed, becoming nervous around her, which seemed to increase each year that she matured, constantly making sure she was taking her medication. He cared too much and it made the man slightly crazy, as well as gave Emma a hatred for the pills that supposedly kept her alive. He obsessed over her medication so much, that when she was fourteen, he was declared unfit to care for her any longer and she was sent to live with the Humbert family.

They were nice but very different from her old foster family, who mysteriously, despite always living on the poverty line, suddenly decided to vacation in the Maldives just after she had gone. The Humberts looked at her with distaste at first, the one she recognised from her foster father before, and it made Emma unsettled. What had she done to cause so many people in her life to suddenly look at her so differently? She didn’t know, but she had discovered one thing; Graham Humbert was another scrawny teenager just like her and they got on like a house on fire.

Growing up was weird in the Humbert house. Graham’s father was an Alpha, from a long line of them in fact, and his mother had long since died before Emma even arrived . Living with an Alpha was intense, but it had been worse for Graham who, at the age of eighteen, still hadn’t become what his family had expected him to. Coming from a long line of successful Alpha’s meant that as the only Beta born in over three hundred years, Graham was, essentially, as excluded from the family as the foster kid.

Emma had always told him, being a Beta wasn’t so bad though. He might not have any of the attributes of his forefathers, but Graham was a good, kind man, and Emma had on more than one occasion told him any woman would be lucky to have him. It wasn’t exactly what she had intended, but Graham had proposed to her less than a year later and now here she was, ten years into a marriage she felt she had to be in out of obligation and because, she had to face it, who would want to provide for all of her medical bills?

Emma was sick, and she was lonely.

The sheet around her was pulled away as Graham shifted his weight, a grumble escaping his throat as he rolled towards her and relaxed back into sleep once he was on his back. He twitched, one of his hands flying up to scratch at the stubble on his jaw before falling like a dead weight against the smooth contours of his chest. His hair was a mess, the curls stretched and fuzzy, the only evidence of his inability to sleep longer than a few hours that only Emma knew about.

To the world, Graham Humbert was one of the most successful business owners the world had ever known. He was rich, powerful and if it were not for his unfortunate luck, he would have been another generation of mighty Humbert Alphas with their own company and a whole army of staff at their every whim. But he wasn’t an Alpha. He had never found his way into the patriarchal values of his own family and Emma pitied him.

Maybe that was why she had married him. Maybe she didn’t really think low enough of herself that she would have never found true love with anyone else because of her illness, but it didn’t stop her from saying yes. Graham hadn’t even gotten down on one knee, bought her a ring or taken off his damn business suit to ask her that day, but she had said yes and now, a decade later, they were both slaves to their own decisions.

If she had to really admit it, Emma knew they were both unhappy. They loved each other, and there had always been care between them, but lately Emma had noticed a distance between them that was gnawing away at their union. It seemed that not even the wealthy were immune to falling out of love, and despite what her head told her, Emma’s heart ached. She wanted more and had always felt like she needed something else, someone else. Graham had been the first and only man she had ever been with, as awkward as it was sometimes, and deep down Emma couldn’t help but think about the strangest thing.

Alphas.

Since she had turned twenty, just two years into her marriage and around the time Graham started to drift away from her, Emma had been fascinated with Alphas. Her friend and fellow socialite, Ruby Lucas, had told her stories, of all ratings, and Emma had guiltily wished she wasn’t married so she could experience one for herself. She hadn’t gone a single day of her life since then without imagining the strong arms of an Alpha male, holding her tightly as he emptied the frustrations of his rut into her. Alphas haunted her dreams, left her waking in a cold, horny sweat, but she was stuck with the man beside her; a Beta with an Alpha complex.

Graham stirred finally, Emma realising that for once, she had rose long before his body clock had him waking up. She blamed the sun, but if she was honest, she had been having the most amazing dream that had shaken her from her sleep with a coil in her belly and a welcome heat between her thighs that she hadn’t felt for an age in reality. A sex dream turned her on more than her own husband and Emma hadn’t had one of those for a good long time, just like she hadn’t had a good fuck either.

Graham was many things, including impotent at the worst times, and Emma hadn’t found a way to help him keep his erection long enough so that she could actually get off. Of course, that was her fault. Her mouth was too wet, her mouth was too dry, she was too wet, she was too dry - Graham had never once taken responsibility for his poor performance and a rift had formed between them. When things were good, they were great, but when it came down to pleasing his wife, Graham was filled with anger and contempt.

Emma watched him sleep, his fingers flexing against his chest and his eyelids fluttering, threatening to open. The sheet below his waist twitched, a gentle rise beginning to pleat the cotton. Things had been good lately, because Emma hadn’t broached the idea of sex, but with the intensity of her dream still fluttering between her legs, and Graham with evident morning wood, why not give it a go?

It was a sign.

With a smirk, Emma snuggled her body into Graham’s, snaking her hand over the bumps of his abs that he spent so much time toning. He was asleep, but Graham sucked in a breath, his leg twitching sideways and bumping against hers as she slid her hand lower. Her fingers brushed through the darkened hair over his groin and Emma watched the furrow of his brow as she scraped her nails lightly over the inside of his thigh.

She was trying to wake him, just like she had in the beginning of their relationship, except now she wasn’t out for his pleasure but simply and selfishly, just her own. Her dream had left an impression on her, her subconscious willing a beautiful man between her legs with a wicked tongue and a wit to match. If she squinted, Graham kind of looked like him as he slept, and after all, she could pretend. She had been faking orgasms for over half her marriage, what was one more to scratch an itch?

Emma’s fingertips danced around Graham’s now semi-hard erection, the organ stiffening and twitching under her light touches. Emma smiled when he groaned, his lips parting slightly to exhale and suck in another much needed breath to keep up with the rhythm of his heart, his thigh shaking a little under the thin sheet where they lay. It was fun, watching him helpless to her touch as he slept, because Emma knew if he was awake, things would be very different.

Even though Graham was not an Alpha, he liked to pretend he was, and that included in the bedroom. He had been loving at first, but then things had changed between them and he had become cruel, making her pleasure herself whilst he barely touched her. He liked to watch more than participate and Emma had found a huge void opening up in her sex life that had previously been occupied by the warmth of a man. Now all she had was sex toys and porn - if she was lucky.

“Mmmmm,” Graham hummed, the sound rumbling in his chest as Emma smoothed her palm over his length, swiping her thumb over the tip that had started to ooze under her assault.

“Does that feel good?” Emma purred into his ear, watching the hairs in his beard stand to attention under the soft warmth of her words. His skin prickled to life before her eyes and she smirked.

“Yes,” Graham hissed sleepily, his hips rutting up into her hand for more friction as his erection grew even larger under her hand, firming and springing from his body like a pole.

“Do you like that, baby?” Emma cooed, her tongue darting out to lick at his ear lobe.

“God, Ruby, yes,” Graham moaned, hissing through his teeth.

“Ruby?!” Emma snapped, pushing herself up into a sit beside him and pulling her hand away from him suddenly. She slapped his bare chest and he bolted awake with a fright.

“What? Emma, what’s going on?” Graham asked frantically, scanning the room, squinting when the light hit his face and then noticing that for the first time in a long time, he was lying next to his wife with an erection.

“Ruby?” Emma asked him sternly, folding her arms over her chest and arching an eyebrow at him.

Graham clutched the sheet to his lap, gulping hard and swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat. His cheeks were pink, his eyes falling to his lap as he desperately tried to will away his shameful erection, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I said that?”

Emma cast a knowing glance over his body, the position and language it was giving off telling her everything she needed to know. It all made sense now. The late nights away, helping out her friend in the absence of her own much older husband, constant invites and making sure he was seated next to Ruby at dinners. But still, she wanted to hear it from him. “Why would you think I was one of my best friends?” Emma prodded, watching him squirm.

“Don’t be crazy. It was just a dream,” Graham huffed, falling back against the pillows.

“Right, okay,” Emma nodded, turning from his obvious lies and feeling more than angry that her potential fun time had been ruined so abruptly.

“Don’t be like that,” Graham pleaded, sighing heavily. “It’s always the same with you,” he accused. “You can’t blame me for things I say in my sleep, Emma. That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Emma shrugged, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She slipped her feet into her slippers and watched the bones in her feet moving under her skin. “Maybe you wish we weren’t married any more.”

“Come on,” Graham soothed, rolling over towards her and reaching a hand out to place on the bare skin of her hip. Emma was wearing just a loose fitting shirt and panties but Graham never noticed nowadays. “Come back and we can try again.”

Emma spun to face him, her frown so heavy on her brow that she thought it would leave lines. She was disgusted, more than that, she was hurt. “Try again?” She spat at him, batting his hand away from her thigh. “Like I’m not good enough?” Graham pulled his hand away, licking his lips nervously, rolling his eyes. “Whose fault is it that you can’t get an erection anymore, Graham, huh?” Emma snapped. “Whose fault is it that you can only get it up when you are thinking of another woman?”

“Emma-,” Graham began, but he was cut off abruptly when Emma slammed her palm into the mattress beside herself in frustration.

“Don’t ‘Emma’ me!” she screeched. “We both know I don’t do it for you anymore.”

“You’re my wife,” Graham ground out through clenched teeth, balling his fist.

“Bullshit,” Emma scoffed. “We both know that doesn’t mean a thing. Being married means love, it means you care, it means you have fucking sex with each other, not sit in the corner of a darkened room jacking off whilst your wife fucks herself.”

“But I like that,” Graham said defensively.

“Oh, good for you,” Emma growled. “It’s okay because you like it.”

“You don’t?” Graham asked dumbly.

Emma gave him a look, a mixture of disbelief and sadness. “If you cared about me, you would know the answer.”

Graham blinked at her accusation. “Of course I care.”

“If you cared for me, even a tiny bit, you’d let me have a divorce.” The sorrow in Emma’s voice hung between them, both looking away from each other to avoid the inevitable apologies that were to follow.

Graham always said how sorry he was, how it wasn’t his fault and it always ended with the same scenario; Emma riding herself into a muted oblivion on a fake Alpha sized cock Graham would strap around his waist. A silence fell between them, just as he had done the last time Emma brought up the subject of divorce. She was sure she was going to get the same excuse as last time, despite her sorrow, and it meant she was trapped.

“Humbert men don’t-,” Graham began in a well rehearsed voice.

“Don’t get divorced, I know.” Emma looked at him with a sigh, her arousal long since disappeared. For two people who were so similar, they sure like tearing each other apart piece by piece, until Emma finally approached the dreaded subject of separation. Emma knew she would never get a divorce, Graham was worth too much money to risk anything so public but that didn’t mean she couldn’t negotiate the terms of her marriage.

“I’m sorry,” Graham said with a sigh, his eyes dropping to the space between them.

“I want excitement, Graham,” Emma told him firmly and his gaze snapped up to meet hers. Her eyes were the most vibrant shade of green he had ever seen and he knew that she meant business. “I want sex, and I want it when I want it, not when you can fit me into your busy schedule.” He listened, blinking at her in disbelief. “I might only be a Beta, but you married me, you settled for me,” Emma said gruffly. “Even if you are fucking Ruby.”

Graham lifted his gaze once more, narrowing his eyes at the woman in front of him. He shifted his weight on his hip, his heart picking up its pace in his chest. “I’m-,”

“You are,” Emma laughed in defeat. “I’m not an idiot, Graham, so please don't take me for a fool.” Emma knew he was indeed fucking her friend, and she had known for a while now. Neither of them were discreet with their flirtation and their emails, which would make the most hardcore Alpha in rut blush, were easily accessible with their joint account. “So, here’s my offer.”

“Offer?” Graham cocked his head at her, intrigued. She nodded.

“I want sex. You can’t give me the sex I want. I want a nice, hard, real cock inside of me. You need to find me someone who can give me sex, and I’ll keep your little side piece a secret. You know, for public image purposes,” Emma smirked.

“That’s your offer?” Graham snorted.

“Take it or leave it,” Emma shrugged. “But every business journal from here to Japan will know about you and Ruby before nightfall.”

“You wouldn’t. You would be ruined too,” Graham told her darkly.

Emma shrugged and gently shook her head from side to side, her hair falling over her shoulders. “Graham, honey, at this point in my life, I have nothing left to lose.”

Graham narrowed his eyes with a sigh. He really was sorry, for what it was worth, but Emma was right. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Deadly,” Emma said coldly. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck if you were doing Ruby in the next room, as long as I am finally satisfied.”

“Can I watch?” Graham said hoarsely, the mere idea of seeing his wife in another man’s arms giving him a tingle downstairs that he hadn’t felt for an age.

“You wanna see me come, baby?” Emma cooed, leaning towards him and licking her lips. “You wanna see a big cock take me over and over until I scream?” Emma taunted him, her eyes darting between his and his slightly parted lips.

“You don’t get to have sex with another man if I don’t get to watch,” Graham grinned.

“Are you seriously negotiating this like a business deal?” Emma snorted, her lips twitching up into a smile and an eyebrow rising on her forehead.

“Of course,” Graham shrugged playfully. “It’s the only thing I am good at.”

Emma stifled a laugh and raised her eyebrows at him. “No deal, and I’d say fucking my best friend was enough leverage for me,” she began, inhaling hard and brushing a stray strand of her golden locks from her forehead. “So, I want someone tall, with a beard, blue eyes and very grabbable hair,” Emma told him firmly, biting her lip as she described the man of her dreams. “I want chest hair to rub my nipples and I want an accent. British.” Emma pointed at him, making sure he knew that detail was important. “Find all that, in one man, and you can fuck Ruby all you like.”

Graham looked at her, his lips twitched up into a sly smile. “Alright,” he agreed with a nod, accepting the challenge. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” Emma grinned, the thought giving her a tingle just by imagining it. “I want an Alpha.”

--

“What do you mean, she knows?” Ruby screeched. Her hands were thrust into her hair, pulling it away from her forehead as she stared blankly at the floor she was pacing on.

“She knows,” Graham shrugged, his head in his hands. Sitting on a couch in his study, he had decided to tell Ruby, his lover, what Emma, his wife, had said. He’d left out the part about how she knew, a slip of the tongue during his dream state, but that didn’t matter anyway because if the way Ruby was stamping her feet back and forth, wall to wall in the room, it wouldn’t have been a sensible idea to anyway.

“Well, did you tell her?” Ruby accused dryly, her shoes scuffing the floor of his study as she made yet another turn at the apex of her pacing.

“Of course not,” Graham scoffed, his voice vibrating off the floor between his feet.

“Then how does she know?” Ruby demanded, her voice an octave higher in her panic.

“Will you just stop pacing?” Graham looked up with a sigh.

“No. You know what? I think I’ll keep wearing a hole into your expensive floor because I am entitled to!” Ruby stopped, despite her words and pursed her rouged lips. She closed her eyes, inhaled so deeply she thought her lungs were going to explode and then exhaled hard, shaking her dark brown hair over her shoulders with a flick of her head. “Okay, okay, let’s just think here for a second.”

“It’s fine,” Graham told her calmly. He hadn’t really contemplated what Emma had wanted until this exact second, Ruby reminding him that if their affair got out it would be disastrous. She, a woman of high society, would be made out as some common harlot, whilst his reputation, that relied heavily on his family image, would be over quicker than he could blink. Not to mention the shame he would bring to his entire Alpha dominated family, all but guaranteeing his immediate shunning.

“Fine?” Ruby scoffed with a grunt of distaste. “Graham, if this gets out-”

“Don’t worry,” Graham said, pushing himself to his feet with a grunt. “It won’t.”

Ruby laughed, dry and so sarcastically it shook her whole body. “Graham, don’t be naive. She’s your wife and my best friend. This is classic revenge, black mail ammo.”

“Listen,” Graham assured with a few tentative steps towards her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, brushing his thumbs over the patch of skin between the two straps of her top, and gave her a quick smile. He felt her calm instantly, her body swaying under his gentle caress. “Everything is going to be okay, believe me.”

“But how do you know?” Ruby pouted.

“She’s not going to tell anyone, I just have to-”

“To what?!” Ruby panicked again, her body tensing and whipping from his grasp. She took a step back, eyes wide with horror of the unknown. “To stop seeing me?”

Graham looked at her, her lip quivering as she waited for what she thought was their inevitable break up. “No!” He frowned. “God, no,” he laughed.

“This isn’t funny, Graham!” Ruby snapped, slapping his chest and attempting to push him away. “I love you and she’s dragging us apart!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Graham chanted, clutching her fingers before she had time to totally pull away and yanking her to him. He wrapped her up in his arms, swaying from side to side. “That’s not what she wants.”

Ruby’s brow knitted together in her own confusion. “Then what does she want?”

“An Alpha.” Graham didn’t quite believe his own words but they fell from his mouth before his brain had time to stop them.

“An Alpha?” Ruby parroted.

Graham nodded. “With a very specific set of attributes.” He turned from her, a heavy sigh blowing past his lips as he contemplated his wife’s words. They were not unreasonable. Graham knew a lot of people, and his family had access to a fuck ton of Alphas because of, you know, all of them coming of age except him. Maybe Emma had already met this specific Alpha, maybe at one of his family parties. No. She wouldn’t be so shy. If there was one thing Graham knew about Emma, it was that she got what she wanted, especially if it hurt her husband. “I mean, it’s imposs-”

“Leave it with me,” Ruby interjected quickly and Graham gave her a questioning look. “What?” She smirked, sauntering over to him. “I know people and I’m very resourceful.”

“Mmmm,” Graham hummed as she pressed her body against his. “Yes, you are.”

Ruby glowed under his praise, a slight blush creeping across her cheeks. The tone of Graham’s voice made her skin come alive, dark and demanding, just like the colour of his eyes that had turned to a stormy grey. Ruby licked her lips, biting her bottom one with a playfully coy pout. “Does my Alpha approve?” She smiled sweetly, her hand finding the front of his pants and rubbing at his hardening length inside.

Graham loved it when she stroked his ego, amongst other things, the title from her lips fake but no less arousing. He growled, pulling her even harder to his body with a force that made her squeak excitedly for what was to come.

[gretchensinister]

Rules: answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions. (Um. That’s not happening. But if I’ve ever sent a chat message to you I definitely want you to do this.)

Tagged by @monsterbrush (I think you’re a spy trying to gather intel on me for some reason)

1. coke or pepsi: Caffiene-free diet coke  2. disney or dreamworks: Dreamworks has a cooler name, Disney has this whole surreal mythology thing with the parks and the fact that it basically controls US copyright law, it’s hard to compare and pick one on any scale 3. coffee or tea: Coffee, as long as there’s an actual liquid milk substance to go in it 4. books or movies: Both! 5. windows or mac: I’ll probably never voluntarily work with a mac, but mostly I don’t give that much of a crap 6. dc or marvel: DCAU FOR LIFE  7. x-box or playstation: The only videogame that I’ve ever said “yes, I must play this” that wasn’t playable on a computer was Journey, which was for the playstation 3, so playstation. 8. dragon age or mass effect: I have actually put mass effect on my tumblr savior blacklist, so I seem to have been more annoyed by posts about mass effect than posts about dragon age. But really I don’t know anything about them. People who do, is either something I would like?  9. night owl or early riser: Honestly I try to be both at once and then just end up wanting to sleep in the middle of the day 10. cards or chess: Cards because everyone who’s invited me to play chess with them thinks I’d be good at it AND I’M NOT 11. chocolate or vanilla: chocolate chocolate chocolate 12. vans or converse: Once I spent a whole semester at college never wearing shoes ever (until it snowed) and literally no one ever said anything, even at the movie theater 13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: I feel most confident about pronouncing Lavellan or Cadash but otherwise I have no idea what’s going on here 14. fluff or angst: I just want a writer who has a clue what they’re doing 15. beach or forest: the beach but I’m really only in it for the sand 16. dogs or cats: cats 17. clear skies or rain: both, both, definitely both (at the same time) 18. cooking or eating out: I’m too ace for the joke I could make here. Anyway I really enjoy cooking and going out to eat at places that make food that I can’t make in my kitchen  19. spicy food or mild food: I just want a cook who knows what they’re doing (um...but I’ve also actually gone to a hot sauce festival, so) 20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: I can say “both” as many times as I want, right? 21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: A little too cold, because while that would suck, at least I could wear my favorite styles of clothing year-round. 22. if you could have a superpower, what would it be: I really want the power to heal 23. animation or live action: Animation, because everything on screen is on purpose and there’s so much less mumbling than in live action 24. paragon or renegade: Looking at the two words, I prefer renegade 25. baths or showers: Showers, because I don’t like just sitting around in water. All the things I like to sit around doing don’t mix well with water 26. team cap or team ironman: Team I Feel Like Marvel Is Going To Need To De-escalate Their Storyline And I Don’t See Them Knowing How To Do That 27. fantasy or sci-fi: It’s a continuum, so, both/all 28. do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they: “The parties are advised to chill."-Judge Alex Kozinski (Mattel suing Aqua over the song “Barbie Girl”)

“I always had the repulsive need to be something more than human.”—David Bowie

“Life is short And pleasures few And holed the ship And drowned the crew But o! But o! How very blue the sea is.”

― Clive Barker

29. youtube or netflix: I mean, if I had to pick one, I would pick youtube, because netflix has a lower chaos factor 30. harry potter or percy jackson: Harry Potter, but mostly because I saw a percy jackson movie and I absolutely hated what they did with the character of Persephone 31. when you feel accomplished: When I complete my writing goals, and when all the chores get done at work  32. star wars or star trek: I know more about Star Wars, but I’d like to get into Star Trek--I mean, I know there’s a fandom for it.  33. paperback books or hardback books: Paperback, because I’m usually reading three at a time so I prefer lighter formats 34. horror or rom-com: What is the point of horror with no romance or comedy? 35. tv shows or movies: Movies, but this means that I will eagerly see a movie by myself, but friends have to coerce me into watching TV shows, which I then enjoy 36. favorite animal: That one bigfin(?) squid because it’s enough of a diva to want to get filmed, but is confident enough in itself to not sacrifice any of its total horrifyingness 37. favorite genre of music: The playlist that you play while going with your best friend/lover to dispose of the body of someone you didn’t really like in a swamp in Louisiana 38. least favorite book: Atlas Shrugged fuck that thing 39. favourite season: Autumn--everything is very colorful and dead, and the chaos factor of everything increases 40. song that’s currently stuck in your head: I’m listening to music right now so I don’t have a song stuck in my head. But recently I had “We Built This City on Rock and Roll” stuck in my head for a long time at work 41. what kind of pyjama’s do you wear: Flannel pj pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt right now 42. if you could be any fictional character’s best friend, who’d you be?: I would be Sanderson Mansnoozie’s best friend, I feel like that would work out somehow 43. If you can only choose one song to be played at your funeral, what would it be: “Death is the Road to Awe” by Clint Mansell

44. Smiling or smirking?: I mean, when the time is right, you have to have both at your disposal 45. Harry Potter movies or books: books books books 46. Something you’re proud of: the fact that I’ve actually made money off of niche erotica 47. Dub or Subtitles?: Can’t knit with subs, so dubs it is. Unless I started watching something with subtitles. Then I just have to somehow watch a show without doing something else at the same time???????

[clarz]

[disclaimer: this is an archive of an old question i answered on curiouscat, copied and pasted so i can take advantage of tumblr's tagging system for organization. i'm mostly doing this for my own record-keeping purposes, so feel free to ignore this post and blacklist "clarz cc" to avoid seeing them in the future.]

answered April 8, 2020

Q (Anonymous): I get really uncomfortable for j*mi* whenever someone in the comment mentions weight, or eating in general. Or even if he randomly talks about it. Bc whenever he talks about food its always in the context of weight. Like even when its positive (as in eat without care about gaining weight) But then he mentions wanting to lose weight (like the the ny vlive) And I’m not calling him a hypocrite, bc he is not. I just feel bad that whenever he says i will show u a new and improved image of me it always has to do with his weight?

ps. The reason im thinking of this is bc i saw that cc from anon about jh**e cheeks, which was a weird Thing to say honestly :/

A: jimin def has a complicated relationship with food, and i'm glad it's something he talks about at least. i think a lot about that time he and jin went on please take care of my refrigerator together, and how serious and perfectly composed jin's face was next to him when jimin talked about that crash diet he was on pre-wings, and wonder what exactly jin must have been feeling in that moment, yknow. i think jimin has a tendency to be more unfiltered than the others in his comments about himself, like his internal self-talk gets externalized v frequently, and my impression as the years have gone by is that, while he still verbalizes that negative self-talk sometimes, he seems to have gotten better at noting it and accepting it and at acknowledging that it might not be true.

like, to me it is a little comforting that the other bangtans seem to allow him to verbalize this stuff without constantly challenging him on it, like they let the worry exist because a) you can't always banish that self-assessing voice in your head, and b) their weight and diet is such a big part of their job, and an evil that they're always going to have to be fighting. idk, i feel like we've seen him get better at struggling in a healthy way, but no one ever pretends like the struggle isn't there, and i like that.

and yeah lol, i kind of don't know why anon thought *i* was the person to go to abt hobi's cheeks. it's def something i've seen before, like when ppl talk abt bts plastic surgery they frequently will say that hobi's gotten cheek fillers, and part of what makes me uncomfortable abt the plastic surgery talk in general is just that i feel like it so frequently ignores the way that people's faces changes as their bodies change and as they age, like..... hobi has always had v high cheekbones and v full cheeks, and when anyone just assumes that "oh, he's def getting fillers to achieve that and i wish he wouldn't" it has the feeling of body-shaming to me, bc it's like..... if he's NOT getting fillers (which tbh i don't think he is but which would not be out of the ordinary for an idol), then you're just out here saying that his face would look better if it looked more "natural" when that's literally his natural face! and that's! not the nicest thing!

[lapsed-bookworm]

#venting #please don’t reblog

Thoughts to consider:

Should I, a blogger who doesn’t claim to be a dietitian or someone capable of creating a medically appropriate diet for someone that’s been tailored to their specific needs, actually tell strangers that a certain diet trend will be ‘healthy’ for them and/or imply “no cheating days” will result in weight loss?

(No.)

Should I, a blogger who apparently has very little knowledge of disordered eating/eating disorders and recovery, imply that promoting a fad diet is “normal” and ‘anyone who disagrees with my friend who has an ED and doesn’t see anything wrong with my posts should work on themselves’ and come back to my blog later?

(Well, if you’re going to do it, it’d be ideal if you didn’t use that exact wording.)

Should I, a blogger who lets themselves be rec’ed as a beginner friendly blog for a community that’s large enough to include people who might be in some form of recovery, take it personally when someone asks that a (blog off topic) reblog chain containing some pro anorexia parts be tagged for blacklisting purposes?

(Ideally, no. It’s not an accusation that you yourself agree with that content.)

Fun fact, no one’s forcing you to tag any type of content. You are allowed to admit that you may not be a safe environment for someone who doesn’t want to see xyz because you won’t tag said content. You don’t have to try to accommodate every possible blogger in your community.