#Tips for raising sexually liberated kids

[brwnadvcsy]

Section 5: Tips for Raising Sexually Liberated Kid - Zahra Ala

This writing was a slightly different outlook from ‘Raising Sexually Liberated Kids’, which may have had more to do with the story revolving around somebody else’s children, and their advice used with those children. Although I don’t plan on having children myself, I plan on working with them as a Social Worker in the Child Welfare division. Many of these children are not taught boundaries or consent and may not even understand what happened to them was wrong, leading to increased cases of CSA where abuse or neglect is present. Though I want to educate these children about what is wrong for others to do, and how to treat themselves, I do not want to sound like a sexual predator or some sick-minded adult attempting to corrupt children, so hearing realistic and appropriate methods of sexual education was incredibly important. I’m going to take several of these tips into my private and professional lives:

Age appropriate and ongoing conversations about sex

Checking in with children about consent, and if anybody has touched them or acted inappropriately.

Celebrate their mind, body, and spirit

Being open and honest

@fatbodypolitics

[yasminbenoit]

“A Romantic Partner Won’t Complete Me, Because I Was Born Complete”: How Identifying As Asexual & Aromantic Brought Me True Freedom & Happiness | Yasmin Benoit for British Vogue

There is a phase in our lives where everyone seems asexual and almost everyone seems aromantic. It wasn't until puberty kicked in that platonic relationships seemed to take a backseat. My peers stopped wanting to play together and started wanting to 'date' each other. That was when I started to realise that there was something different about me. I didn’t seem to be experiencing the same urges as those I was around. I chose to go to an all girls school in the hopes that – in the absence of boys – everyone would stop caring about sex and dating. It actually had the opposite effect. There was a sense of deprivation in the air and the heightened desire to project their sexuality onto anything and everything.  

Therefore, my lack of interest became even more obvious, and it became a not-so-fun game to work out the source of what should be troubling me, but hadn’t been until that point. Having a sexual orientation isn’t just natural, it’s essential. It’s part of being a fully-functional human being. And to be romantically love and be loved by another is the ultimate goal. It’s part of being normal, which made me both abnormal and puzzling. When your asexual, people think there’s something wrong with your body. When you’re aromantic, they think there’s something wrong with your soul. Even for a teenage girl who internalised all of Disney Channel’s “be yourself” messages, it’s never nice to have people publicly debate your supposed physical and psychological flaws.  

My nickname in school was “hollow and emotionless.” I was a joker with a decent amount of friends, but I was lacking something crucial, the kind of love that really mattered and the kind of lust that made life exciting...so I was practically Lord Voldemort with braids. I sat through the regular DIY sexuality tests, having my peers show me graphic sexual imagery, have very sexual conversations in my presence, and ask me inappropriately intimate questions to gauge how far gone I truly was. These tests lead to the development of theories, most centred around me having some kind of mental problem. After a while, you start to wonder if everyone knows something you don’t.

When they said that I must have been molested as a child and “broken” by the trauma, I wondered if I had somehow forgotten about sexual abuse that actually hadn’t happened. I looked at some of my own relatives with suspicion, the same people who would later ask me if I didn’t experience sexual attraction because I was a pedophile. It was suggested that I was “suffering” from my “issues” because I was socially anxious and insecure. The suggestion that my ‘issue’ was pathological stayed with me for a long time, but not as much as the widely accepted theory that I was mentally slow. Unfortunately, that one stuck. I was referred to as “stupid” and I started to believe that was the case. It would impact my experience in education for the next eight years, long after I realised that there was a word for what I was.

Asexual.

I first heard the word during one of the near-daily sexuality tests that I was subjected to. I was asked if I was gay, to which I said that I wasn’t interested in anybody like that – men or women. At fifteen, I was asked, “Maybe you’re asexual or something?” but it wasn’t quite a lightbulb moment. How could it be when I had never heard the word outside of biology class? After an evening of Google searching, I realised that there were many people with my exact same experience, complete strangers whose stories sounded so strangely similar to mine. I also stumbled across the word ‘aromantic,’ but at the time, I didn’t understand the need for it. "Wouldn't all asexual people be aromantic? A romantic relationship without sex is just friendship with rules,” I thought.

Either way, my discoveries showed me that I wasn’t alone, but that only half helpful. I now had an identity that no one had heard of or understood. Most didn’t believe that being asexual or aromantic was a real thing, and I doubted it to. I had been taught to after years of armchair pathologisation. If asexuality was real, why did no one tell you that being sexually attracted to nobody was an option? What if it was just an internet identity made up to comfort people with all of the issues that had been attributed to me? I didn’t have to go far down the rabbit hole to realise that asexuality, like many non-heteronormative identities, had been medicalised. What I had experienced as just the tip of the iceberg. As someone who hadn’t been prescribed drugs I didn’t need or subjected to unnecessary hormone tests, I was one of the lucky ones.

My activism would be my gateway to the community. Despite being the ugly friend at school, I ended up becoming a model while in university. I decided to use the platform I had gained through my career to raise awareness for asexuality and aromanticism. It gave me the opportunity to encounter a range of asexual and aromantic offline, it was then that I learned the significance of having an aromantic identity. There are many asexual people who still feel romantic attraction, as well as aromantic people who still feel sexual attraction. They have their own range of experiences, their own culture, their own flag, and like the asexual community, I was relieved to see that they are just normal people. These intersecting communities are not stereotypes. They weren’t just thirteen year old, pink haired kids making up identities on Tumblr to feel special. They were parents, lawyers, academics, husbands, girlfriends, artists, black, white, young, old, with differing feelings towards the many complex elements of sexuality and intimacy. Most importantly, they were happy.

I am proud to be part of both, and I know that while being asexual and aromantic, I am a complete person and I can live a perfectly fulfilling life. Since meeting members of my communities, I’ve become more open about my identities in real life, and a reaction I’m often met with is sympathy. “You must feel like you’re missing out,” “I can’t imagine being like that,” “It must be hard for your family,” “Do you worry no one will want you?” “How do you handle being so lonely?” “You’re so brave and strong,” “What will you do with your life now?” Even in 2021, a woman who isn’t romantically loved or sexually desired by their “special someone” is perceived as being afflicted with some kind of life-limiting condition.  

Asexuality doesn't make undesirable or unable to desire others. It is a unique experience of sexuality, not a deprivation from it. Even if it was, there is so much more to life than what turns us on and what we do about it. Romantic love is just one form of love, neither superior nor inferior to any other. Being aromantic doesn't mean that you can't love or be loved, it does not mean you are void of other emotions or capabilities. I am not lonely with my friends, family, co-workers and supporters. I feel confident not when someone wants to date me but when I meet my goals and form worthwhile connections with others. My success isn't determined by whether someone will want to marry me someday. What we want out of life is our decision alone, our sources of happiness should not be defined by our ever-changing, culturally relative social standards. The love of a romantic partner won't complete me because I was born complete. Feeling sexual attraction to others won't liberate me because my liberation is not dependent on other people.

Valentine's Day is on the horizon. It's an occasion that amps up the focus on (and the pressure to achieve) a very specific type of love and sexual expression, one that is actually alienating for people inside and outside of the asexual community. During a pandemic where many relationships have been strained, tested, formed or distanced, it's important to keep the diversity of romantic and sexual feelings in mind. Many expect me to feel annoyed or lonely during this time of year, but I actually feel empowered and excited by the way sex, romance and love are discussed more deeply around this time. These conversations are constantly expanding to become more inclusive for everyone, and that's what we need to see all year round.

https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/asexuality-and-aromanticism

[friendlystarfruit]

Levi x slave fanfic

Hey anon my requests where temporarily closed  but what the hey, I'm assuming this is smut. Next time give more details (= ,I manged to keep it somewhat neutral, reader slave is obedient but wee bit cheeky/playful hope you like.

Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors I have dyslexia (=

Also for anyone who wants wholesome Levi smut please understand I can't make wholesome Levi x slave xD so just dont read this. well I could try but I doubt that is what this anon wants

(no minors allowed )

You've been working for scouts cleaning keeping up after them and looking after the horses.

You are a low ranking nobody, nobody even knows your name, but Captain Levi has noticed you many times.

You'd often see Levi just stare at you while you clean the windows, his eye would glare like daggers for minutes, it made you a little nervous but you liked the attention.

One afternoon you where raking leaves under the moon light and you heard Levi walking over to you, your heart beat faster as this short but seductive man approached.

"You"

"Y-yes Captain"

"Shine my boots" Levi growled throwing a cloth on your face and putting his boots right on front of you.

You shine his boots

"I wanna be able to see my fucking face in them worker" He hisses.

"Of course " Captain.

When you are finished Levi grumbles a little but seems satisfied.

"Any thing else?"

"You'll address we as Captain or Sir, and yeah there is, I need you to clean something else with your mouth" He signals to his crouch.

You are excited to serve the Captain ins such an intimate manner , you massage over his crouch and feel his cock harden beneath your fingers, Levi unbuckles his pants freeing his large erect cock. You smile “Captain it’s so beautiful “

“Get to work  slave “ The Captain growls persistent and his cock itches to be relieved by your warm lips.

You mouth his warm cock with your wet eager  lips , your lips engulf his cock and you massage your tongue liberally against the tip of his flushed mushroom headed dick.

Levi lets out a masculine breath of  pleasure and slightly thrusts his cock further into your throat.

You gag a little.

“Disgusting “ Levi pouts.

“I’m sorry Captain”

“Tch, I didn’t say stop”

You stimulate yourself while you stroke and such off Levi , your hands rub up and down his shaft and you literally make out with his cock.

You make eye contact with Levi his heart races and falls into a cliff of marshmallows , he tries to shake off his over excitement. Levi veers his face away blushing trying to hide his embarrassment.

You smile cheekily and raise your eyebrow , “I’m a doing good master”

Levi turns back to you but conceals his over excitement ,he grabs your hair and thrusts you on his cock.

“Yeah but you can do better slave”

Levi moans as he works his slaves mouth like a personal cocksleeve , the warm rubbing tickle the sexual nerve in his cock perfectly and he feels an orgasm build.

His cock violently convulses and he groans “Good fucking slave”

You take two loads , one down your throat and the other on your face.

Levi pants feeling satisfied “now mak-make sure to clean up this mess” he pants.

“And I wanna see you the same time tomorrow so we can do some more work”

Levi  pulls up his pants and fixes up his pants , he winks at you , (just kidding Levi would never ), he walks away with a cold blank face as if nothing ever happened.

You smile to yourself and speak to him “See you soon master”

Levi for one second stops dead in his tracks as a dagger of pleasure stabs right through his heart, then he continues walking without turning his head behind him

[brandyllyn]

In our own image... (16)

Chapter 16

(Poe Dameron x OFC)

Other chapters... My Masterlist

Word count: 2000. Read it on AO3.

Rating: M (PG). vague sexual content.

Everything was different and yet nothing was.

Rey was up in her hammock as usual, floating three ball-bearings in the air above her head. Kina had taken away the larger hunks of metal the woman had been using after she got distracted and dented the droid under her with them when her concentration failed.

Kina had her own project, identifying the pieces of droid parts that Chewbacca had pulled from the Falcon. At some point they had been through Havan’s workshop - she knew that much. Not all droids could be identified by their maker but he was the only one who did soldering in that particular way. His own signature as it were.

And K-0 was…. somewhere. She wasn’t exactly sure. They’d vanished some time ago actually.

''Will you say goodbye?"

Kina dropped the piece she was holding, cursing to herself. She turned back to find Rey on the ground, standing not too far away.

"Before you go, will you say goodbye?" The woman asked again.

Kina whistled and then realized there was no one there to translate. She should really finish that arm-cuff translation module someday. She made a mental note to talk to C3PO about it. But right now she reached for the data pad, tapping out a message and holding it out to Rey.

-What makes you think I’m leaving?-

Rey sighed, handing it back. "Just a feeling."

Kina could see the sadness in the other woman’s eyes and knew it was reflected in her own. She held her arms out, pulling Rey into a hug. The woman returned it, holding her tightly and pressing her face to Kina’s shoulder.

-If or when I decide to go I promise I will say goodbye.-

Rey nodded, blinking a few times before she dropped the ball bearings into Kina’s hand. "I’ll see you for dinner?"

Kina nodded and watched the woman leave, her brows furrowed. Had her unhappiness really been that obvious? She’d come to Ajan Kloss because… well because it seemed like the logical next step. She needed to do something to fight against the people who had destroyed her home planet. And the way people talked about the Resistance, about their ideals… it had seemed like she might be able to do some good.

At first it seemed wonderful. She had met so many amazing people. Finn and Chewie and Rose and Karé and Rey. Her friend Rey. The best one she had had in a while. And of course there was Poe. Her Poe, even if it was looking more and more likely that he was only hers for a moment.

But she had also found more of the same. More people willing to ignore what was right in front of their faces because it was inconvenient. She wasn’t trying to start a revolution - just trying to get people to see. See that there was something going on with droids that was new and different. That something had been achieved far beyond basic programming.

No one wanted to look.

She delved into the issue the same way she would a droid’s circuitry. Prying it carefully apart and setting the components aside into carefully curated piles. People worried about their droids. They cared for them. They talked to them and asked their opinions. Somewhere they knew that there was consciousness there. And yet even people who abhorred slavery allowed their droids to call them 'Master'. People who took time to physically pet their droids had no compunction sending them into situations where they would be destroyed.

It didn’t make sense to her. And she just couldn’t see how anyone could reconcile two diametrically opposed ideals like that. But no one would listen to her when she asked. It was always taken as a given. If she pushed the issue people invariably became petulant or aggressive - claiming that she wanted to be some kind of liberator.

She did. But she was aware enough to know that day was a long time coming. In the meantime she’d settle for people just thinking about the issue rather than ignoring it. Instead of pushing it to another day.

Sighing she left the problem disassembled, placing it into a box in her mind she could come back to later. She heard footsteps approaching and turned on her stool, assuming it was someone who needed a repair and pasting a smile on her face. She saw BB-8 first, her smile turning to fondness. Poe was right behind.

"What brings you here today?" She asked, BB-8 translating without being asked.

"K-0 came and found me," Poe replied, stepping to the side to show the little droid cocking their receptor array at her. "I’m a little unclear what for though. Something about you getting eaten? He seemed upset." Poe paused. "Also cursing up a blue streak, what’s with that?"

"Yeah," Kina sighed, "they do that. K-0? What is it?"

"Kina sad. Kina like eat." K-0 said, darting between the two of them.

"Are you sad?" Poe asked, eyebrow raised in question.

Kina sighed, "Yes. No. Maybe a little."

"Okay, so we’re one for two," Poe said, ticking off one finger. When she laughed he grinned. "And do you like to eat?"

"I guess?" She replied, looking down at K-0.

"Kina like eat. Poe eat Kina," the droid said solemnly.

Kine blushed, biting her lip and looking away from Poe as they both realized what the droid meant. "Oh," Poe cleared his throat. "Oh. I get it."

"Yeah," Kina cleared her throat. "Yeah."

Silence stretched between them before Poe asked, as calmly as she’d ever heard him, "Do you want me to eat you?"

Kina spluttered, turning to look at him and seeing the laughter in his eyes. She frowned, drawing her eyebrows together in her gravest and most serious expression. "I mean, eat is such a strong-"

She didn’t finish. He scooped her into his arms and his mouth was on hers and Chasī how she had missed this. Missed his laughter and his touch. Missed when things were just easy with each other.

"Bad man eat Kina," K-0 said again.

Poe gave them a disgruntled look. "I thought I was Poe now?"

If K-0 could shrug she would have described the movement the droid made as one. "Do better. Be Poe."

"Is your droid critiquing my kissing skills?" Poe asked her incredulously.

"In fairness I think they’re being more overall," she gestured with one hand, "critical, not just your kissing."

Poe thought about that for a moment. "I don’t think that’s better."

Kina smiled, kissing the tip of his nose before turning back to her workbench. "Thank you for coming by, I need to get this stuff ready for Chewie."

"Can I help?" Poe’s shoulder was almost touching hers.

"I don’t think-" she started to say and felt him pull away. Saw the shadow that fell over his face. "Don’t look at me like that," she sighed.

"Like what?"

"Like … that."

Poe rolled his eyes. "I don’t know what look you’re talking about."

"Yes you do."

"No. I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?" he snapped.

"You don’t need to talk to me like that," she snapped back - her whistle cracking in the air.

They stared at each other, jaws clenched before Kina felt her shoulder slump. "Chasī when did we start fighting over stupid things?"

Poe sighed, "I don’t know."

"We’re not very good at pretending are we?" She asked, turning to perch on the edge of the workbench.

Poe’s eyebrows drew together, "What do you mean?"

"Back when," she gestured, "you know. You said we should move past it all and go straight to making up. But I don’t think it’s working."

He leaned back against the table next to her. "Yeah. You’re right. It’s not."

Kina stared at the floor, trying to sort through her thoughts. Finally she said, "I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t take me seriously."

She saw his mouth open from the corner of her eye, then heard it snap closed. After a minute he said, "It’s not that I don’t take you seriously, it’s just that… I have to focus on this. This Resistance is everything to me."

Nodding, Kina moved her hand to rest over his on the table. They sat there in silence.

"Is this-?" he started to say but Kina cut him off.

"Why don’t we get away? Right now. Just for the afternoon."

Poe turned to her, one eyebrow raised. "Where? I don’t think we’d both fit in my X-Wing…"

Chasī she loved his smile, the boyish look he had about him when he was making a joke. "Let’s go back to the pool. It was… that was such a good day."

"It was," he said, staring at their hands. "Yeah, I think… I think I could do that."

"Just me and you," she stated firmly.

He grinned, "I wasn’t planning on inviting anyone else."

Smiling she shook her head. "I mean, really just me and you."

Poe looked at her for a moment before his gaze dropped to the droids. "You mean leave the kids behind?" She nodded and he frowned. "How will we be able to talk?"

"Is there something we need to talk about?" She asked. It was mostly rhetorical. They both knew they had a thousand things they needed to talk about. As much as they both knew no amount of talk was going to change anything either.

"Okay," he finally said. "Give me ten minutes?"

She nodded. When he left she squatted down to talk to K-0 who became quite creative with their language when they realized that 'alone' really did mean alone. By the time Poe returned the droid had hidden themself away and Kina was waiting for him.

"Ready?" He asked, bag slung over his shoulder as he held out his hand.

She took it, giving BB-8 a fond smile as the droid watched them leave.

The path to the pool was familiar, although not really a path at all. They walked silently, hand in hand. Poe occasionally stopping to help her cross some of the more difficult terrain. She didn’t need it, but recognized the inherent sweetness of the gesture regardless. A few times she caught him looking at her, a question in his eyes but he never asked it.

By mutual understanding neither of them talked. They touched each other when they needed to gain the other’s attention. Pointing or making hand gestures when absolutely necessary. But mostly they were just… quiet.

Alone together for the first time.

The pool gleamed like a gem in the hillside, the small waterfall that fed it the only sound she could hear. This time, they undressed each other, fingers working on the other’s clothes - clumsily undoing buttons and zippers until they were both bare to the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. He held her, dipping his head down to kiss her. Her hands clenched into his hair, pressing her body to his for a moment before she led him into the water.

They drifted together for some time. Floating and touching and kissing. Neither of them said a word. The only sounds the movement of water and their occasional laughter. There were no words when he urged her from the water either. Rising over her like a sun bronzed god, cold where the water dripped off of him yet oh so warm where his skin touched hers.

When he moved inside of her she shut her eyes. Couldn’t watch while he took her apart piece by piece. He pressed his face to her neck and they moved with each other until there was no end or beginning from her body to his. Just skin and passion and a deep ever-present ache that even their release couldn’t quite untangle.

They didn’t move afterwards, clutching each other as though touch was the only thing keeping them grounded. He gently kissed the corner of her eye and she felt him hesitate, knew he could taste the tears there. But he didn’t say anything. Just pulled her closer to him and pressed his forehead to hers.

They didn’t need words to know this was goodbye.

=

Chpt 17

[the-dead-sea-trilogy]

WIP Wednesday: Ophelia and the King’s Madness

expected to be about 100k+ words total, 50% complete

Hi and welcome to another WIP Wednesday!! Today I’m sharing Ophelia and the King’s Madness, which is a spin off from my Hardenshipping Dead Sea Trilogy that focuses on Colress, the novelty third wheel, and his time in Team Plasma.

Ghetsis hires Colress to look after his daughters who, despite being adults, live completely isolated from the outside world.  But Anthea and Concordia find themselves smitten with the man who brings so many strange and wonderful things to them.  But as their relationship develops, Concordia slowly discovers the truth of who he and her father really are, and must face the choice to leave everything in her world behind.

Hit me during quarantine while I was...... stuck inside all day and couldn’t leave my house........ funny how life does that to you.

There will be mild - but not explicit - sexual themes.  But today is just a preview!  Colress and Ghetsis dunking on one another.

I ripped this straight off my google doc so enjoy all my typos and funny musings ✨

Link on AO3

Ko-Fi Tip Jar

(Full text below the cut)

 Chapter 0.5??? (AT RISE?  CURTAIN???)

 Colress Achroma had seen every sight there was to see in Castelia City.  There was nothing new about the subway station, the cars, the lights, the people, the noise, and even his own apartment.   Nothing fulfilling about the bars, the clubs, the drinks, the parties.[---maybe mention something about the people who lurk in the subway station/swers and how weird they are--]

 And while it was objectively true that there were perhaps hundreds--if not, thousands--of new things to do--drink, fuck--every day, for Castelia City had no shortage of people like him--nothing      felt    particularly new.  Not since he had moved back from the Hoenn region, where he had completed his PhD, which had grown especially underwhelming in its own regard.  While he had certainly missed the sheer expanse of the city in that time--ever since getting his PhD--which had turned out to be nothing but dull barrier after dull barrier--he felt incredibly,      painfully     understimulated.  And so, he sat in the [bleak] alleyway in the dark, grimy underbelly of his hometown, spinning the petals of a white rose in his hand, waiting for something new.

 No, he wasn’t there for a hookup.  He knew better places than here for that.  He knew this underground tunnel system perhaps even better than the subways themselves, even as it ran adjacent to them.   Admittedly, the cryptlike sewer system had become something of a second home to him, ever since he was a kid.  Here in his favorite corner, for instance, there were still even smears of ash from when he had started a fire when he was 14 and narrowly escaped the police.  That, particularly, was the first of what was soon going to become many narrow run-ins with the law.  No, he wasn’t here to sell or solicit, even though he was told someone would meet him here.

 Okay so when put like that, it might as well have been a hookup.

 But as he sat perched up on a ledge, scanning shadows in the dim, yellowy light on the wall--down past the shadows that scooted across the filthy waterways--he saw a long, black shadow emerge from the darkness.  [add in the flower ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ thing?].   Although, it was more as if the cloak had pulled off and carried teh darkness with him.  The man was large; and wore a long, black cloak; his footsteps, which would have otherwise been almost soundless and serpentine, were interjected with a      thud     from his cane--forcing him to walk in an uneven, cacophonic rhythm.  He leaned into his left, and leaned into it hard.  In fact, with the hsape of the cloak, and the way he walked, even from here, it would appear almost as if the man entirely lacked a right hand.      

 Colress dropped another white petal down from the ledge.  “He loves me,” he said, then glanced up at the man and smiled.  He slid down off the ledge and stared up at the large man, the grossish yellowish light grossly illuminating his face.  “You came.”

 “I was told I could find someone here.”

 “Well, you found correctly,” Colress said, waving the flower around.  “Now, what exactly is it you want?  I’m not accepting clients, if that’s what you’re after.  But, there are plenty of girls down here who, if you pay them right--”

 “Enough,” the man said, spitting on the ground at Colress’ feet.  His voice boomed, nearly echoed down the chamber.  “I’m not here for a prostitute.”

 “The polite term is ‘sex worker,’ actually, but--”

 “I’m looking for a scientist, not a whore.”

 “Lucky for you, I’m both,” Colress said, smiling.  The man stops and stares at him, incredulously, like he doesn’t think he could be serious.  Colress flashes some sort of badge at him.  “How can I help you?”

 “You can’t be serious.”

 “Oh I am,”  Colress said.  They stare off again at one another, Ghetsis is like “Nevermind this has to be a mistake” and starts tot turn to go.

 “I thought you might be a little apprehensive, given our location, but I promise, only the best of the best gather in the nighttime here in Castelia City,” Colress said, reaching into his bag.   “After all, how would you have gotten your contacts to get ahold of me? I prepared for you my entire CV--” he extended the document to him [basically traps him from leaving].  The man raised his eyebrows, but tentatively accepted it.  “Although, you should know this is quite the unusual place for a job interview.”  [Colress gives him a devious grin.]  “I dig it.”

 “Jesus Christ,” the man muttered, scanning over the document.

 “What?  Overwhelmed and amazed at my outstanding credentials?”

 “No,” the large man said.  “I had heard the rumors.  I just didn’t believe they were      fucking true    .”

 “Ah, so I have a reputation I see!  That’s good news,” Colress said.  “You should have a clue as to who I am, then.  However, unfortunately I’m still not sure with whom I have the pleasure of--” Colress paused, now seeing the profile of the man in the low light.   “Wait a moment,” he said, beginning to recognize the face.  “I’ve see you before.  You’re…” [the memory comes to him] “You’re Ghetsis Harmonia,” he said.  “The leader of Team Plasma.  All those ones going around talking about all that ‘Pokemon’s Rights’ bullshit--”

 “Pokemon liberation.”

 “Oh and the      airship!      Quite a mechanical wonder, I have to admit.  I’ve always sort of wanted to get up close and personal with that antigravity machine,” he said.  He leaned in to Ghetsis with a sing-song tone.  “Are you here to give me a ride~!”

 “Only if you’re useful.”

 “Useful?” Colress asked.  “In what way?”

 [is he like a court jester to a king????]

 “I’ve already told you I’m not accepting clients.  That’s never been my game anyway.  Useful?  To Lord Ghetsis Harmonia… isn’t that what they call you?  My lordship?  My king?  Leader of a selfless, benevolent organization devoted to the freedom of Pokemon.  It’s quite ambitious, I have to say.  I’ve never really seen anything quite like it.”

 Ghetsis was silent.

 “But what could a proud, noble, and upstanding lord want with a--ah, what was it you called me?”

 [MAKE SUR EHE CALLS HIM SOMETHING BEFORE THIS]

 “‘A sewer rat’ like me…?”

 “Research,” Ghetsis said, shortly.

 “Oh?” Colress asked.  “Of what kind?  Surely we didn’t have to meet in such a remote location to go over my CV.  We could have gotten lunch.  Oh, or      brunch--!    ”

 “Enough,” Ghetsis said, more sternly.  “I won’t tolerate this level of [silliness? Pfffft No better word].”

 “Then what do you need of me, my lord?”  

 “I need you for research.  A very particular kind of research my own scientists believe you to be capable of.”

 “Oh, scientists from down here?” Colress said.  “Word certainly does get around.  But what makes you think so?”

  [Ghetsis hands him some kind of flyer from a battle or tournament or something]

 “How’d you do it?” he asked.

 Colress raised his eyebrows.  “What do you mean?”

 “Your thesis was about DNA and Mega-Evolution,” Ghetsis said.   “And this,” Ghetsis pointed again to the page.  “You enhanced its power for competition.”

 “I didn’t enhance anything,” Colress said, flatly.  The flatness in his voice, however, spelled sarcasm.  “The ‘power of friendship’ did that.  If I had enhanced anything, that would be cheating, wouldn’t it?”  Colress paused.  Examines Ghetsis.  “Of course, the ‘power of friendship’ in this scenario might involve a few extra nuts and bolts.   Nothing more.”

 [  Ghetsis like grunts or makes one of his Ghetsis noises.  Colress kind of turns and looks at him.  Ghetsis maybe says something like [We could pay you well to do it again] or something etc.]

 “But what would a noble Lord want with a researcher like me?   What would an upstanding and noble, pacifist organization like Team Plasma possibly want to do with Pokemon battling power?  And, with you coming to me in such circumstances, I’m beginning to think that you’re either horny, or Team Plasma isn’t exactly what it says it is.”

 “We have certain aspects that we keep only to the initiated.”

 “Well, it’s a cult, isn’t it?” Colress said.  “I mean, Team Plasma is a cult.  You all walk around in hats and robes, handing out pamphlets and preaching about love and destiny and higher wisdom.  And you at the very helm.”

 Pause.

 “Well, if this is a personal invitation to join your freaky little cult, I’m afraid to tell you I’m not really religious, and I don’t really plan on ‘being saved’ any time soon--”

 “I heard you weren’t satisfied with your day job.”

 “Day job?  What day job?” Colress laughed.  “I don’t need to work for a living.”

 “Exactly.”

 Long pause.

 “I do what I want.  I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to come around.”

 “And what exactly is that opportunity, Colress?”

 [Long pause. Colress decides it’s time to spill.  Something pulls him to know to understand what Ghetsis is there for, air of malice.]

 “Have you heard of an organization called Cipher?”

 “Faintly.”

 “They were a criminal organization responsible for the ‘Shadow Pokemon’ incident that happened about a decade ago in the Orre region.”

 Ghetsis raised his eyebrows, interested.

 “They operated in secret laboratories in abandoned warehouses scattered throughout the region.  Their laboratory director, Ein, was behind the conception of the project,” Colress said.  “In his profile, he is described as someone ‘long on ambition and short on emotion,’ something to which I think we both can relate.”

 “Mhm,” Ghetsis siad.

 “Ein was the pioneer behind the creation of these creatures--Shadow Pokemon.  Pokemon capable of entering this hyper-empowered state.”

 [Maybe more nods.]

 “I always sort of wished I could talk to Ein.  But, unfortunately like any other criminal organization, they were eventually found out, and their records destroyed.”

 “So what was the point in you telling me all that?”

 “Please let me monologue.” [Say something about how like if he’s going to join an evil organization he’s only going to get a chance in this once in his life--also maybe it’s like he’s given ghim a sales pitch??]

 They stare at each other.

 “What they were doing was highly illegal, of course.  Though, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering, if, given the opportunity, I could do better.”

 [They have a moment where they’re on the same page.]

 “Cipher’s mistake was that the Pokemon were strong, but ultimately uncontrollable,” Colress said.  “Their approach, ironically enough, was too emotional.  This flimsy control maxed out Pokemon’s power, but brought them into a manic state that made them lash out uncontrollably.  This lack of control also made it an easy effect for anyone to reverse.  A handful of people were known for doing so.  They called it Purification.  ‘Opening the door to a Pokemon’s heart,’ that’s what they called it.  In fact, that’s even how Ein himself chose to define it,” Colress said.

 [Colress turns and then laughs].  “That’s what he called it.   Can you believe?  ‘Opening and closing the doors to the heart…” what the fuck does that even mean?  Some bullshit phrasing they made up to describe the process of divorcing a creature from its emotional integrity.  ‘Hearts’ and ‘doors’ aren’t measurable data.  It was a chemical they were using.  A wave.  Cipher’s true methods, as I’ve said, were unfortunately lost to time.  But, we do have the work of Professor Krane, who developed a more regimented procedure for purifying these Pokemon,” Colress said, smiling.  “It’s a wave.  They used EM waves.”

 “Congratulations.”

 “The way I see it, Cipher’s approach likely targeted the limbs, so to speak, rather than the creature as a whole.  This left weak points that Krane and other purification scientists were able to exploit.  If they wanted to truly be successful, they would have had to find a way to overrun the entire mind of the creature,” Colress said.

 “So success would mean absolute control?”

 “Yes,” Colress said.  “Precisely.”

 “That I can agree with you on.”

 Another pause.  “Theoretically, one would be able to use the work put forth by Professor Krane to reverse-engineer the way that Cipher created these Pokemon, and then build upon it for their own ends.  To do so would be highly unethical, of course, and cause quite a stir in most procedural review boards,” he said.  “So it remains a fantasy that I’ve considered, but never fully entertained.  The bureaucrats win out again, and for good reason, I suppose.”

 “That’s quite a tale you’ve spun for me.”

 “Isn’t it?” Colress asked.  “I always thought so.  But that’s not what we’re here about, is it?  We’re here for you,” [he turns to him and smiles].  “So, Lord Ghetsis Harmonia… cult-leader, king.  What is it that I can do for you?”

 “By the sound of it…” Ghetsis said, slowly.  “Exactly what you want.”

 Colress [does something], smiling.  “Then, gratefully, my lord, I am ever at your service.”  [Maybe kisses rose and tosses it at his feet?  → this ties him back to Concordia]

[hellenismosonline]

Olympian Deities: Dionysus

Realm: God of wine, vegetation, pleasure, festivity, madness, wild frenzy, viticulture, hallucination, fruit, the mysteries of birth, life, death, and resurrection, untamed wilderness, and intoxication

Parents: Zeus and Semele (Mortal)

Offspring:

By Aphrodite: Priapos, Iakkhos

By Nikaia: Telete

By Hera: the Charities

By Unknown: Methe, Thysa, Pasithea, Hymenaios, Sabazios

Symbols: Thyrsos (Pinecone-tipped staff), drinking cup, a crown of ivy, satyrs, mainades, fruiting grapevines, panthers

Colors: purple, green, gold

Offerings: Honey, milk, wine, water, live plants, small trees, ivy

Sacred Animals: Panther/leopard, tiger, bull, serpent, griffons, mules, donkeys, goats, lions

Element: All, in different aspects

Metal/Stones: Gold, amethyst

Number: 7

Planet: None?

Time: Dionysia, Lenea, Anthesteria, Great Dionysia, Theodosia

Tarot Cards: The Fool, Judgement, Knight of Cups

Altar Ideas: Purple, depictions of him, wine, fake fur, grapes, apple seeds, wildflowers, cat toys, anything associated with cats, any art that you create, masks, amethysts, wreaths of ivy, theater tickets, bindweed, snake skin, curved daggers, percussion instruments

Epithets

Acrato'phorus: giver of unmixed wine

Acroeites: a surname that Dionysus was worshipped under in Sicyon

Adoneus: the ruler

Aego'bolus: the goat-killer

Aesymne'tes: the lord, the ruler

Agri'onius: a surname that Dionysus was worshipped under in Orchomenus

Antheus/Antheus: the blooming

Bacchus: the Latin translation of his name

Ba'ssareus: a long robe; precursor of vintage

Brisaeus: derived from the nymph Brisa, who raised the God

Bro'mius: he who was born during a storm of thunder and lightning

Calydo'nius: a surname of Dionysus in Calydon and Patrae

Cre'sius: a surname of Dionysus at Argos, whose temple was said to house the remains of Ariadne

Dendri'tes: the God of the tree, the giver of foliage

Eleuthereus: deliverer from care and sorrow; of liberation, of freedom

Enorches: the dancer

Enya'lius: the warlike

Eubu'leus: God of good counsel

Hyes: the moist or fertilizing God

Intonsus: unshorn, eternally youthful

Isodaetes: the God who distributes his gifts equally to all

Lampter: the shining, the torch bearer

Lenaeus: the wine-press, the vintage

Limne'genes/Limnaea/Limne'tes: inhabiting or born in a lake or marsh

Lyaeus: God who frees men from carre and anxiety

Ly'sius: the deliverer; of release; releasing

Meili'chius: the God that can be propitiated, the gracious

Melanaegis: armed or clad with a black aegis

Melpo'menus: the singer, the minstrel, of the tragedy play

Methymnaeus: derived from Methymna, rich in vines; derived from methe, sweet wine

Nysaeus/Ny'sius/Nysi'gena: derived from Nysa, the mountain which he was said to have been brought up by nymphs; derived from Nisus, who is said to be his father or his educator in some myths

Oma'dius: the flesh-eater, derived from the tradition of human sacrifice in his honor at Chios and Tenedos

Phleon: the giver of plenty, luxurient foliage

Psilas: the giver of wings; the unbearded; uplifted on wings

Soter: the savior

Tauroce'phalus: he who has a fertilizing effect upon countries

Taurus: the bull

Thyo'neus: the inspiring

Zagreus: shape-shifting God

Nyctelius: of the night

Hestius: of the feast

Colotes: spotted gecko

Auxites: giver of increase

Androgynus: Androgynous sexually

Staphylites: of the grape

Omphacites: of the unripe grape

Theoenus: the God of wine

Agathus Daemon: the good spirit

Protrygaeus: first of the vintage

Oenops: wine-dark

Acratophorus: giver of mixed wine

Cisseus: of the ivy

Cittophorus: ivy-bearer

Anthion: of the flowers

Cistophorus: basket-bearer

Erebinthinus: of the chickpea

Dimetor: twice-born

Iraphiotes: goat-kid, insewn

Melanaegis: of the black goat-skin, dark aegis

Patroeus: paternal, ancestral God

Aesymnetes: dictator

Polites: citizen

Agyieus: protector of the streets

Mystes: of the mysteries

Chthonius: of the earth, cthonic

[deliriumsetin]

So here’s the thing...

I’m really freaking hard to scare. Unlike my cat that just booked it into another room when our UPS guy dropped a package off at the door. Perfect timing, Percy. Perfect timing...

Anyways! I have NOT had a good scare in probably two decades. No matter what fiction I pick up that promises to chill and thrill me, neither happens.

Now keep this in mind.

As of right now I am launching a business and yes, this will tie into the weird opener. Be patient, please.

I am launching Vox et Liber, a publishing house for ALL kinds of stories and ALL kinds of voices. I started working on this in November 2019, what do you mean that was only 8 months ago?! I originally thought the publishing house up after learning a bunch of facts about the publishing world over the summer.

VeL publishing will be a new kind of publishing and I can say that with 100% confidence because I am building this beast from the ground up, with the help of @hazandlouwho​, my fiance, and a few other amazing people!

Because this business is getting started independently, which means no investors, we are working with a VERY small amount of cash reserved for start up. Initially all works will be published digitally. We do plan on launching a Kickstarter in September/October to get enough funds to keep this going and to do it right which means getting stories published physically and sold to both indie bookstores and Barnes and Noble. Please be on the look out for that.

If any awesome people want to donate to help us not break my own personal bank, which will be easy to do since Covid-19 forced me to quit my job working with the public because I’m high risk and unemployment has kept me in limbo for going on 3 weeks, you can tip us on Ko-Fi by clicking here. ALL donations and funds raised go towards launching VeL and all projects under the VeL umbrella.

Bringing it around to the scares. VeL is launching our first project and we need all you awesome writers’ help. As of today we are opening submissions for our first ever anthology, Graveyard Visits. It’s horror with the theme of marginalized voices written as Own Voice fiction. Meaning stories written by marginalized groups with their marginalized groups as main characters.

Submissions are going to be open from July 1st until August 12th 11:59pm EST. Stories are expected to be between 2.5k-5k words in length. We will be paying $.02 per word as well as giving you a digital copy of the anthology. Submission Guidelines can be found here.

Now the whole me being hard to scare; I want to be scared. Submit your best, your scariest, and most bone-chilling stories.

Also, not so subtly gonna add a nudge to @thebibliosphere​ because I feel like she might have something up her sleeve. If not for this anthology then definitely our erotica one that will be announced later this summer.

We also have a podcast series in the works but I will do another post on that once I or my awesome soon to be brother in law (that’s STILL weird) have a moment to do up some graphics.

Click below for my rant on why traditional publishing right now is a soul sucking leech on EVERYONE.

On average with hardcover books an author is lucky to make $1.50 off each one sold and that’s only AFTER they sell enough to cover their advance. I also found out the average advance is like 3k per book. Some (not including the wicked big names who get a shit ton more) can get as high as 5k but others can get as low as a 1k. An author is lucky to see that twice a year (selling 2 books) because they have to spend time MARKETING book 1 instead of writing book 2. 

Keep in mind fiction hardcovers are generally sold between 19.99 (usually YA) or 29.99 (usually adult). Wicked big difference, huh? I get there’s a lot that goes into making a book, trust me I do but the split between should leave the authors getting around $4 per copy instead of less than $2. That $2.50 is just extra that the publishing house takes because it can.

Then there are the mass paperbacks which an author gets paid 50 damn cents per copy. Yes, those books retail for anywhere between 7.99 and 14.99 per book and sell way faster than hardcovers. Take it from an ex-bookseller.

Most books take on average 500 to 1,000 hours of work put into them before they even get handed off to the publisher for the FIRST time. At minimum that author sees an hourly return wage of $6 which is BELOW the United fucking States shit-tastic minimum peasant wage. We devalue the arts so fucking much- arg! But that can be a separate rant for another day.

Then after doing more research I realized just how off balanced the publishing world STILL is in the year of hell 2020. Don’t believe me click the link. Sarah Park Dahlen did a great article with a great graphic on it. 

As of 2015, yes I’m paraphrasing to continue to rant, children’s books had ALMOST more books about anthropomorphic cars, household items, and animals than there were books about Black kids, Asian Pacific kids, Latinx kids, or Native American/First Nation kids combined. Talking teakettles and their kindred got a whopping 12.5% while if you add up all the groups above you get 14.2%. None on there own beat out the freaking Easter Bunny! Of course books about White kids are the highest at 73.3%. Yes, this was as of 2015 but as an avid reader who reads middle-grade and up books for fun I can tell you nothing much has changed. Books about black kids maybe SLIGHTLY higher since the BLM movement (fuck yes progress!!) but I’d be heartstoppingly shocked if they beat out talking fucking trucks.

And that’s just race. From what I gathered with all the publishing houses less than 100 books with LGBTQIAP+ main characters are published each year. Wtf? And among that as of 2015 55% percent are about cisgendered males and 31% are cisgendered females. (Thank you @malindalo​, you are awesome and I’ve enjoyed meeting you at the Boston Teen Author festival the last few years.) So, just focusing on those 2 first letters, huh? I want to read a story about a kickass transwoman that has to deal with transitioning WHILE demons have torn their way out of hell. That would be badass! Holy shit, someone trans write that!

Same goes for people that live with disabilities whether they are physical or mental, including mental illness and neurodivergents like myself. If you haven’t figured out by this rant just how ADHD I am than you might need an ADHD in your life. My brain works differently and I would have killed growing up to read about characters that have to deal with what I deal with. We have Percy Jackson now and his all ‘verse but it’s not enough and it wasn’t published until I was on my way to college.

All that aside we now have all the bs coming out about what’s been going on in traditional publishing. About all the dickweeds that have been using their power and pull to sexually harass new authors, most often the new authors are young women. I unfollowed people and canceled a pre-order because fuck that shit! Also, I don’t give a fuck how big a name someone is if the hate they spew makes all their trans fans collectively feel like shit for not believing the simple fact that transwomen are women then they deserve to get dropped like the bag of shit they are. TERFs can fuck right off. 

All the publishing bs has made me more determined to get VeL off the ground because no, no, no. We’ll have none of that. All the listed above reasons can go play in traffic. We will be paying our authors better and taking care of them from day 1. We will be making sure our catalog is so damn diverse that you’d have to be looking at the wrong website to not find a story that you can’t see yourself in and lastly, if we hear of any of our authors pulling a Myke Cole or a Sam Sykes than they are dropped. It is in the best interests of our authors futures that they aren’t shitbags. /end rant

If y’all have any questions about anything of this, I think my dms are open or if I’m wrong just tag me. My days lately have been chained to my shit dell computer with one or both cats pinning me to the couch. I finish this up as Percy settles in on my legs. Also, thunderstorm is starting up and both are sleeping through it? If only I could be so lucky when the fiance and I have kids...

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Boggle The Mind

“All rise! For God now comes to judge as He convenes heaven’s courtroom. He judges every judge and rules over every ruler, saying, “How long will you judges refuse to listen to the voice of true justice and continue to corrupt what is right by judging in favor of the wrong?” Psalm 82:1-2TPT

One of the most unnerving events in my life was being a witness in the murder trial of my ex-husband. As a kid of only nineteen years of age, my testimony would unravel the defense lawyer’s plea of ‘temporary insanity.’ I was on the right side of the law. Still, I was shaking in my shoes.

There’s coming a day, when every person will stand before the judgment bench, in the courtroom of heaven. God will judge with mercy and with justice. His justice will balance the scales. Many without Jesus will suffer as His justice tips the scales towards punishment.

Many corrupt, illegal activities have been going on here in our beloved nation. Plots, and lies so corrupt, they boggle the mind. I’d been discussing this with the Lord, before going to bed. Then Papa God awakened me at 2:30 a.m. to talk. He sent me to Psalm 82. He said, “I’m bringing My justice to your land.” Does that raise your hair on end? It should.

What does God’s courtroom declare as priorities” V3-4TPT “Defend the defenseless, the fatherless and the forgotten, the disenfranchised and the destitute. Your duty is to deliver the poor and the powerless; liberate them from the grasp of the wicked.” Amazing. — Defenseless— who is more defenseless than a baby in the womb, or newborn? What is the radical left pushing? — Fatherless— an entire generation of children being exploited by every media for sexual activities. — Forgotten— widows and senior citizens left on shelves in nursing homes to die. Who has the left prevented from having visitors? Also they placed Covid19 patients into nursing homes to cause death rates to go higher? — Disenfranchised— definition per Google: ‘past tense: disenfranchised; past participle: **deprive (someone) of the right to vote.’ **deprive (someone) of a right or privilege. **ARCHAIC deprive (someone) of the rights and privileges of a free inhabitant— No I didn’t make that up… Pretty much covers everyone from middle class on down, right? — Destitute— Homeless population, those without the basic necessities of life. Manipulated by liberals. — Our duty— Pray for God’s justice to liberate and set free these people from wicked authority.

Almighty God speaks to the corrupt leaders and judges. V5-7TPT “But you continue in your darkness and ignorance while the foundations of society are shaken to the core! Didn’t I commission you as judges, saying, ‘You are all like gods, since you judge on My behalf. You are all like sons of the Most High, My representatives.’ Nevertheless, in death you are nothing but mere men! You will be laid in the ground like any prince and you will die.”

Boggles my mind. I’ve read the Psalms in TPT, and never even noticed this chapter. When God wants to turn a scripture from logos-written to Rhema-living, He breathes life into it. Therefore I declare to you: This is what’s coming quickly— V8 “All rise! For God now takes His place as Judge of all the earth. Don’t you know that everything and everyone belongs to Him? The nations will be sifted in His hands!”

Are you ready for what’s coming? The day in Yahweh’s courtroom will be brought here as we plead for God’s justice on earth, as it is in heaven. This is as close as our breath. It’s your choice. You choose.

PRAYER: Sovereign God, righteous Judge, thank You for revealing the corruption, and destroying it. Remove it from out nation, please. Help us, we’re weak willed and gullible sheep, in Jesus Christ’s name I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2020 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional as author. Thank you.

[gotatext]

                   hllo ! i’m nora ( she / her, 24, gmt ) crawling back to this rp once more like the dirty sewer slug i am !! i just can’t get enough, baybeyyy ! u may remember me frm such roles as alma putnam, rory bergstrom, bridget matusiak or greta o’driscoll 2 name jst a few.... sure there were more over these long years, bt the show must go on.... this is mimi, she’s dogmatic, tenacious n single-minded 2 the point of recklessness, she doesn’t like handouts n she’s funding her degree through her onlyfans account n moaning abt shit on tiktok. we love 2 see it !!  slam that like button n i’ll creep into ur DMs like the slippery worm i am   OR u can discord me at that bitch carole baskin#8664.   a humble pinterest.

『ALEXA DEMIE ❙ CIS-FEMALE 』 ⟿ looks like MIMI MARTÍNEZ is here for HER SOPHOMORE year as an ARCHITECTURE AND SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY student. SHE is 22 years old & known to be STRONG-WILLED, GOAL-ORIENTED, ARROGANT & EASILY BORED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ nora. 24. gmt. she/her.

this is p embarassing but i actually originally wrote mimi for a discord rp based around love island asgjag dont laugh at me but it was so chaotic n someone deleted it w-out telling any of us so i lost her bio.... all her threads....e verythin.... it was mad. but anyway we startin from scratch w this intro so bare with

mimi is a really extra character so when trying to flesh her out i thot of the most extra thing i could do n made a colour coded mindmap with watercolour paints detailing her values, aesthetics and early life. shoot me

background: she grew up in a trailer home in boulder city, abt half an hour from vegas. her mom had worked in a vegas casino for most of her 20s but relocated to boulder city for a slower pace of life / lower crime rate when she started having kids. mimi has 2 older brothers n she’s the youngest. has that invulnerable younger sibling complex n basically thinks nothing can touch her. very confident in her own intelligence and her ability to get shit done 

has mexican ancestry on her mom’s side. doesn’t know her dad. was raised with spanish catholic principals n found it all very stained glass windows and extra n that’s why she was kinda drawn to the decadence of vegas and all these massively high key aesthetics, like dia de les muertos was her fave thing growin up just bcos the pure feel of the festival and painting a sugar skull on her face n being able to party on the streets in a flower crown where everyone was kinda anonymous but together in this celebration

in boulder city her mom worked as a carer as there’s a lot of retirees there. mimi really resented the slow pace of life, longed for some fucking energy n life. she was a cheerleader in school but outside of school there wsn’t much to do except practise stunts and go on bike rides.  occasionally they’d get dressed up and catch a bus to henderson, the next biggest city for them to get tht sweet night life

her teenage years consisted mostly of hanging around the renovated motel blocks used as housing projects n tanning by the pool. very florida project if you’ve seen that. she reminds me a lot of the mum in that. also she started working as an avon rep going door-to-door when she was 16 bcos she wanted to have her own income. like as young as 14 she’d decided she was smart enough to go to college but she didn’t have the money n her family didn’t really see it as a worthwhile thing, her mom was very like the mom from matilda “you chose books.... i chose looks!” which i think is where a lot of mimi’s more shallow / appearance-driven traits come from

wasn’t really ‘cool’ until high school. before that she was a bit of a lisa simpson type. won a spelling bee when she was 9. was in the mathletes squad in middle school. when she went from middle school to high school she started cheer and tried to reinvent herself basically. always been very concerned with social mobility and keen to socially climb, like when she enters a new situation she’ll find out who the alphas are and quickly try n befriend them

when she turned 18 she moved out and went to vegas despite her mom hating the idea bcos it was everything she’d tried to get her kids away from. she worked in the clubs there for several years as a shot girl, a table dancer, n eventually she started workin behind the bar in a strip club. in the club it ws really hard to resist becoming a dancer bcos of the sheer amount they made in tips. no one really pressured her into it she just eventually decided tht it was way more logical to do it while she was young n fit and had the stamina and ppl were willing to pay to see her body so she started taking pole fitness lessons. she also started working as a cam girl around this time

working in vegas strip clubs is basically whats paid for uni. like she didn’t go at 18 like most of her friends did bcos she didn’t have the money and she didn’t want to feel indebted to a college like she had to compete for her place and not put a toe out of line bcos she was on a scholarship. she was determined to pay her own way and it took 4 years of working really hard and saving n even tho she was working in vegas she basically never went out bcos every penny she had needed to go on uni n thts how we get to radcliffe baybeeyy

part 2  - interior / values / personality

values: the aesthetic !! literally loves the aesthetic so much. everything she owns is super embellished, she’s a pop socket gal, her dell laptop is covered in glitzy stickers, she always has acrylics n probs makes nail art videos on tiktok. really tuned into tiny details like painting a little hello kitty above her eye which translates into her degree when she’s doing small-scale mockups of town plans n stuff... she jst puts so much detail into them. ppl often get surprised when she tells them she does architecture but it makes so much sense bcos she grew up in a trailer park n was always thinking about ways the space could be more efficiently used, like she loves re-conceptualising neighbourhoods, definitely spent hours on sims as a kid. she also grew up near hoover dam n so loads of school trips they just took them there n she was like.... this is tight but it could be cooler.... where’s the passion....

massively into photography, has such a neat instagram feed like everything just compliments the tones in the next post like mMMM. idk if any of u know any architecture students but this is literally the one constant i can find…. like they all have super good instagrams feeds. is that bitch that will take 40 fake candids of u in a row at different angles to get u the perfect profile picture cos she understands the importance of marketing urself and having an online #brand

has wire rimmed glasses that she doesn’t need to see BUT they r like a magnifying glass for when she’s working with really small materials to do a mock up of an urban plan, and also just sometimes wears them for the aesthetic bc she’s such a pinterest bitch

assassination nation is such a big mood. literally the aesthetics of that and lily colson’s whole brand of feminism and nudity not being inherently sexual but at the same time wanting to profit off that bcos why the fuck shouldnt she use a corrupt system to her advantage is incredibly mimi

literally a human personification of a bratz doll both in attitude and fashion sense

somehow simultaneously gansey in the raven cycle AND elle woods in legally blonde? the two genders 

values cont bc i started rambling: her independence and freedom. being the best at any given task she sets her mind to accomplish because she is unable to accept failure. social mobility. sexual liberation. interested in the psychology of sub-cultures and how ppl form groups and interact w each other and cult identities which is why she minors in anthropology. pro-choice. pro-weed legalisation. pro-sex worker rights. very activist.

aesthetics tht remind me of her: von dutch. a strappy cami top that says ‘please do not do coke in the bathroom’. low-waisted jeans that show off her belly button piercing. acrylic nails tapping against a heavily embellished second-hand dell laptop. heart shaped sunglasses in every colour. translucent stripper heels with barbie doll heads and plastic spiders in the heel. spraying champagne you cant afford all over the walls. narcotics in a heart shaped locket. an amazon wishlist full of lingerie linked on your tinder profile. sex tapes recorded on VCR. a religious devotion to waxing clinics. necking shots like you were born to do it.

she’s an enfj type which makes her pretty charismatic and confidence, like she has a fierce kind of energy to her, but she’s also super unwilling to accept criticism, dogmatic and can only really see her own way of thinking, quite ruthless when it comes 2 other ppls emotions despite having a poor control of her own and being prone to turbulence / throwin a bitch fit in the craft lab. easily bored. competitive. self-assured to the point of arrogance. forceful. adaptable. usually more rational than emotional but occasionally loses the ability to make rational decisions when blinded by a need for perfectionism.

very goal-oriented. money motivates her. money and clothes. she wants to look bomb while earning big bucks. when she gets her mind set on a project it literally consumes her she will forget to eat and sleep? i don’t know her.  like when a final design project is due for architecture she’ll be up all night doing adderall and speed to keep her awake working on the placement of a single tree for ages cos its gotta be perfect

loves chaos. will spill your secrets and pretend it was an accident. will always be that gif of kim kardashian sipping her tea while drama unfolds around her. lives for the drama like that gifset of bratz when she comes running and gets her phone out to record a fight.

im makin her sound like a really bad person but hopefully she’ll be somewhat likeable she can be very charismatic and endearing and she’s naturally quite funny. also now she’s finally in college and doesn’t have to worry so much about money she actually allows herself to party n bcos she denied herself of it for so long she kinda makes up for it by going p wild like will be the girl climbing on to stage to crowd surf at gigs or doing a summersault off the bar and being escorted out by bouncers, thats the energy were looking at, pure dionysian hedonistic impulse

really gd at talking her way out of shit like parking fines. so good at being an ‘im baby’ girl and often dumbs herself down to figures of authority to appear less like a threatening ball-breaker and more like a confused fiat 500 girl who didn’t know red meant stop she thought it meant slow down

listens almost exclusively to female artists. has fergalicious on repeat when she does squats infront of the mirror n just the biggest fergie stan. also lana del rey’s whole vibe is massive mimi energy

ok ya thats all i have for now..... hopefully this is somewhat coherent and not just garbage.