#do you think men are just born nasty? or universally raised to be no exceptions? what do you think about trans men

[problemnyatic]

so does putting "men dni" in your shit actually reduce the number of shitheads you get or does it just filter out the dudes who actually care about boundaries in the first place

[babymetaldoll]

Act one (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Requested: Yes. Hello hello @meowiemari​ 

Summary: Spencer's girlfriend is a sweetheart, but he discovers a new side of her when she gets the lead on a play, and she portraits an unsub.

Category: Hardcore fluff 💜 (you know that's how we roll here)

Warnings: Maybe a little cursing here and there, but that's it.

Word count: 3,7K

Masterlist

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Spencer's girlfriend was a sweetheart. (Y/N) was the kind of girl who you thought might actually be a Disney princess in a different universe. She was adorable. Garcia was crazy for her, Morgan adored her, JJ thought of her as a little sister, and Prentiss always tried (and failed) to make (Y/N) curse once each time she saw her. They loved her.

And, of course, Spencer loved his girlfriend. He couldn't deny it. He didn't even try to do it. He knew he was young. He was just 25, after all. But he already knew she was the love of her life. Derek would always tease him about it, joking about how he was ready to propose to her, even after just six months of dating.

Spencer would laugh, but deep down, he knew Derek was right. (Y/N) was just perfect for him. She was the sweetest girl everywhere she went. That's why everybody was in shock when over dinner in Penelope's, she announced to the team she might play a serial killer in a play she was putting on with her drama group.

- "Oh, honey"- Penelope smiled and caressed her hand on the table- "There's no way you can actually pull that off."

- "What? Why?"- (Y/N) asked, confused, as the whole team nodded in agreement with Garcia's words.

- "You are too sweet to portray a killer nurse!"- Prentiss added

- "Well, I am not going actually to do it. I have to learn my lines and all, but I'm the substitute for the part."

- "Substitute?"- Spencer frowned, in shock- "What do you mean? You are amazing!"

- "Yeah, well, apparently not as amazing as Rachel Cooper. She got the lead role, again."- (Y/N) smiled and took a sip of her wine- "But, anyway, if anything happens, it's on, and I'll play a mass murderer nurse."

- "You are too sweet for that role, baby face"- Derek smiled at his friend and shook his head- "But you'd make an amazing job."

- "Thank you, Morgan. It's a little upsetting, 'cos I know I could do great. But well, I guess Rachel Cooper is gonna do an amazing job, and everybody's gonna be happy. It's really a team effort after all, and we are all there to have fun."

- "See?"- Penelope pointed at her- "You are too sweet to portrait a serial killer."

Spencer held (Y/N)'s hand on their walk back to her place and kissed it several times. She blushed and smiled at him as they talked of anything and everything.

- "Please don't hate me, but I'm kind of glad you didn't get the part."- Spencer confessed when they were about to reach (Y/N)'s door.

- "Why?"- she didn't get what he was talking about, especially considering she was dying to get that role in that play.

- "Because the guys are right, you are too sweet to play a mass murderer."

- "That's the idea of acting, Spencer, portraying someone you are not, and making your best to fit the role and convince the audience."

(Y/N) whispered and sighed as they walked the last couple of steps in silence.

Reid felt he had ruined it.

- "I'm sorry, buttercup. I know you'd do a great job. I was just trying to cheer you up."

- "I know, honey. It's ok."- (Y/N) whispered and cut him a small smile. She knew he was sincere.

- "I'll call you tomorrow."- Spencer said as they said their goodbyes on her apartment's door.

- "I had a great time tonight."- she answered and felt his lips on her for a second. She sighed and leaned over to kiss him again as soon as Spencer moved from her. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him for a moment.

- "I'm sorry you didn't get the part, (Y/N)."- Spencer murmured and looked into her eyes in adoration.

- "It's ok, Spencer."

- "You'd make an adorable killer nurse."- and she giggled as she felt his lips against hers. It was his favorite sound in the world, and it made Spencer feel butterflies in his whole body each time she laughed like that. So sweetly and bubbly.

- "You are just saying that 'cos you love me,"- she whispered and kissed him again. Spencer chuckled and thought he could love her even if she actually were a murderer.

During the next couple of weeks, (Y/N) divided her time after work between Spencer and rehearsals with her drama club. And each time she was at the theater, she was happy. She had a fantastic group of friends to have fun with. Except for Rachel Cooper. She was the exception of the whole gang. Actually, no one really liked her much. She had a nasty attitude toward everybody in the club. She acted like life was still the same as it was in high school. She thought she was one of the popular girls, and no one could mess with her.

No one but karma, apparently.

- "(Y/N)!! (Y/N)!! Where the hell are you?!"- everybody in the place could hear Rachel yelling backstage, looking for (Y/N).

- "I'm here! What is it?"- the girl waved and continued painting part of the background of the play.

- "I need you to sew my dress!"- Rachel commanded and literally threw her outfit on (Y/N)'s face.

- "You were supposed to have it done already! The premier is tomorrow!"

(Y/N) sighed and smiled at Rachel. Of all the people in the club, (Y/N) was the only one who didn't hate her. If anything, (Y/N) was the only one who was still somehow friendly with her. Why? 'Cos she couldn't' help it. She was just too nice for her own good.

- "Give me ten minutes, Rachel. You'll have it ready for the rehearsal"- (Y/N) answered and smiled- "Just let me wash my hands. I don't want this to be all covered with paint."

- "You better don't!"- Rachel mumbled and walked away.

- "How on earth can you be so nice with that bitch?!"- Tina turned to (Y/N) and raised an eyebrow- "Each time I hear her talk, I have to make a major effort not to break her fake nose against a wall"

- "Come on!"- (Y/N) frowned and shook her head- "She is just nervous. She is the lead. You know that can get to you when you are performing."

- "She was born being the lead. The lead witch of the meanest coven I've ever seen"- Tina added and shook her head- "Honey, you are too sweet with her, and people like her eat nice girls like you for breakfast.·

- "I'm not gonna change who I am just 'cos she is mean. And she hasn't done anything to me."

- "(Y/N)!"- Rachel yelled- "That dress is not going to sew itself!"- Tina looked at (Y/N) right into the eyes, and the girl just smiled.

- "She is just nervous. Don't be mean."

But Rachel wasn't friendly. Not with (Y/N), and not with anyone in the whole club. For twenty-two years old, she could be very juvenile. (Y/N) could understand her, though. She didn't know why, but she couldn't be mad at Rachel. If anything, she felt sorry for her. (Y/N) was sure it had to be a burden to be like that, and she bet Rachel didn't know better.

- "Hello?"- (Y/N) walked into Rachel's dressing room and picked up the phone, excited to read Spencer's name on the screen.

- "Hello princess, how are you?"

- "Hello honey, I miss you so much."- (Y/N) replied and nearly sighed just by hearing Spencer's voice at the other side of the line.

- "I miss you too, Bunny. I'm calling from the airport with good news, though. We are on our way back home."

- "Really? You caught the bad guy?!"- the way (Y/N) asked about the case made her sound younger and more naive than she was. Spencer smiled and blushed, imagining her shiny eyes and her excited face. Rachel cleared the throat and handed (Y/N) the dress and the sewing kit.

- "Yes, we'll be back home tonight, so do you wanna grab a late dinner with me?"

- "Of course! I'm in rehearsal right now, wanna meet at my place? I'll ask for some take-out from your favorite Korean place."

- "Sounds like a plan. See you later, princess."

- "I love you, Spencer."

- "I love you too."- Rachel rolled her eyes as (Y/N) placed her phone back in her pocket and started sewing her dress.

- "So, you have a boyfriend?"- the way Rachel asked that question made it sound like it was something shocking and improbable to happen.

- "Yes, Spencer and I have been dating for over half a year already,"- (Y/N) answered proudly

- "Spencer, uh?"- Rachel repeated his name and looked at (Y/N), raising an eyebrow- "And what does he do?"

- "He works at the FBI"- the girl answered with a big proud smile- "He is a profiler at the BAU."

- "What does that mean? Does he makes good money?"

(Y/N) chuckled and shook her head. She didn't even know if Spencer made good money or not at his job. But she knew the most important thing about it: that he loved what he did for a living and that he was happy going to work every day, 'cos he had the chance to save people's lives.

- "He analyzes the behavior of mass murderers and catches serial killers."- (Y/N) explained with pride in her voice- "He has been out of town for two weeks, and he just called to tell me he is coming back home."

- "Does he travel often?"- Rachel asked and raised an eyebrow staring at (Y/N), who smiled and nodded, sewing her dress.

- "Yes, he and the team have to work across the country."

- "So, how do you deal with all the cheating?"

- "What?"- (Y/N) frowned and looked at Rachel for a moment, confused and shocked by her words.

- "Oh, come ok, honey. If he travels so much, it's only obvious he must have some flings now and then. After all, he is a man."

- "You don't know Spencer. He is not like that"- (Y/N) answered and returned to her job. Rachel stood up and sighed.

- "Oh honey, I know men, and they are all the same. They can't keep it in their pants."

And after those poisonous words, Rachel chuckled and walked out of the room.

(Y/N) tried not to think about what she had just heard. Instead, she continued sewing and repeated to herself Rachel had no idea what she was talking about. It was clear someone had broken her heart, and now Rachel couldn't trust anyone. Maybe she didn't want anyone to trust anyone anymore. Whatever was the reason, (Y/N) felt it didn't mean Rachel was a bad person, only someone who had gone through some bad situation that had gotten the best of her.

(Y/N) made a mental note to invite her for ice cream or some tea after the play and talk. Maybe what Rachel needed was a friend.

- "Help!! Help me!"- someone yelling took (Y/N) from her thoughts and made her jump from her spot and run outside.

- "Help me! Please!!"

- "What happened?"- (Y/N) and the rest of the drama club found Rachel on the floor, crying in pain.

- "I was trying on the shoes for the play, and I think I sprained my ankle!"- Rachel yelled and hit the floor- "Call a fucking medic!"

- "Fucking call a medic yourself!"- Tina answered and turned around- "You have a fucking cellphone in your hand. Probably you fell 'cos you were too busy taking selfies to look where you were going."

- "I'll help you. Just stay still."- (Y/N) whispered and kneeled next to Rachel- "Let me get you some ice."

- "Hurry up!!"- Rachel grunted, crying. Tina rolled her eyes and turned around to go back to what she was doing.

- "That bitch doesn't deserve your help."

- "I need your help!"- (Y/N) nearly tackled Spencer as soon as he showed up at her door later that night.

- "Hello to you too, princess"- he answered and kissed her lips, chuckling.

- "Sorry, hi, how are you? How was your flight?"- she asked all the questions at once as she held his hand and crawled him into her apartment.

- "I'm so happy to see you!"- he said and smiled, keeping his eyes on her. (Y/N) walked around, searching for something.

- "Here!"- and when she found it, she handed it to Spencer and smiled- "I need your help!"

- "What is it, bunny?"

- "Remember the play I'm in? That I'm the substitute for the lead role?"

- "Yes, I remember."

- "The play is tomorrow, and two hours ago, Rachel Cooper sprained her ankle doing wardrobe fitting. And now I am going to be the mass murdered nurse killing it in the play!"- (Y/N) smiled and hugged Spencer.

- "Oh! But I feel so bad Rachel is hurt. I sent her chocolates and flowers. I hope that cheer her up a little bit."

- "Wait, wait, wait! Are you telling me my girlfriend is going to be the lead in the play?"- Spencer asked her, surprised. (Y/N) just nodded frenetically, and he hugged her again.

- "Buttercup! This is great!"

- "But I need your help with my lines! Please help me, Obi-Wan."

- "I'm guessing those are not your line."- Spencer joked, and (Y/N) giggled.

- " I only had one whole rehearsal today, and that's it. I need to work on my lines with someone for tomorrow."

Spencer stared at her excited and happy smile, and it didn't matter that he was exhausted from the travel and the last two weeks of work. He couldn't say no to that smile.

- "Of course I'll help you!"- (Y/N) clapped and jumped on her stop.

- "Thank you so much!"

- "But please tell me you got me tickets for tomorrow."

- "For you and the rest of the team, if they want to go."- (Y/N) replied and kissed her boyfriend's lips- "Thank you, Spencer. You are the best."

The next evening, Spencer dragged the whole team along with him to see (Y/N)'s play. He had never been more excited about going to the theater before. He had bought (Y/N) flowers, and he made sure to have the best seats in the whole place.

- "Ok, pretty boy,"- Morgan chuckled as he noticed Spencer kept fidgeting his fingers nonstop- "Why are you so nervous? It's just a play for fun."

- "I don't know. I just want (Y/N) to enjoy her time and be proud of what she does."

- "I'm sure she will"- Penelope smiled at Reid and tapped on his arm- "I'm just scared she is too sweet to portrait an unsub."

- "Yeah, me too!"- JJ whispered and shook her head.

- "But the kid is a good actress, and she is going to be great,"- Derek added and turned to Spencer- "You've seen her acting before. Is she good?"

- "Yes, very."

- "You are not a reliable source"- Prentiss argued and opened a bag of jelly beans- "You are having sex with her. You are not objective."

Spencer wanted to argue with Emily, but he couldn't even make a sound. He felt so embarrassed and mortified with Prentiss's comment, and he couldn't even talk about the subject.

The lights went out, and the audience started clapping. Spencer's stomach tightened as he held his breath. He was more nervous than (Y/N) was, and she was the one walking into the stage that very same second.

An hour had passed, and Spencer Walter Reid couldn't move. He was glued to his seat, and his eyes could barely even blink. He was hypnotized by the beauty of the woman on that stage. A woman who looked so much like his girlfriend but acted entirely differently.

Was it wrong to feel so attracted by someone who was portraying a mass murderer? Was it considered cheating being drawn in such a profound way to someone who was nothing like his girlfriend, even when it was actually his girlfriend?

Spencer couldn't move. He could barely register what was going on around him and how Penelope giggled when she noticed (Y/N) hypnotized Reid in a way that only a man under a spell could be.

And that spell was lust.

When the play was over, Spencer stood up and clapped until his hands hurt. (Y/N) looked at him and smiled sweetly, thinking she couldn't believe what had just happened. She was the lead role on a play, and she nailed it. She had killed it. Literally, 'cos she had killed pretty much the whole cast during the show. She had been someone completely different than she was in real life, and she loved it. It had been fun, and she felt proud of her job.

- "Munchkin!!"- Penelope yelled as soon as she saw (Y/N) walking to them backstage- "You were amazing!!"

- "Thank you so much, Penelope!!"- (Y/N) chuckled and hugged her friend- "I'm so happy you are all here!"

- "You are the only unsub we are looking for tonight, pretty girl!"- Derek hugged her too, and his words made her laugh

- "You are definitely some actress! I couldn't believe that was really you!"

(Y/N) knew she was blushing as Emily complimented her acting. The girl nodded and hugged JJ, to then look behind her friend to find one shy Spencer Reid staring at her in deep love and adoration.

- "Hi. I think I saw you clapping in the audience,"- (Y/N) joked and walked over to Spencer. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came from his lips, 'cos his eyes were on (Y/N)'s clothing.

She was still wearing the nurse outfit from the play. And though it wasn't necessarily sexy (not in the sexy nurse costume you usually see), it did things to him. Things Spencer had to suppress to act like a human being of his friends were there too.

- "You were incredible"- that was all Reid could mumble as he hugged his girlfriend and gave her the flowers he had gotten for her.

- "Thank you, honey"- (Y/N) hugged him and noticed how his arms held her tighter and closer. She knew Spencer wasn't very comfortable being physical with her around his friends, especially around Derek, 'cos he would tease them until Garcia smacked him.

But that night, Spencer didn't really care. In fact, he couldn't help it. He needed to feel her, to touch her, to kiss her. And so he did. He kissed (Y/N) slowly at first, his lips recognizing hers and enjoying her softness. But within seconds, his kiss got hungrier and more passionate. It was a kiss that he had been imagining for the last hour and a half, watching her acting. And he didn't know how to control that passion anymore.

- "Woo, kid! Slow down!"- Derek chuckled and started joking, but Spencer didn't even pay attention to him. His hands held (Y/N) closer, cupping her face against him, making her moan softly.

- "Ok, ok, please stop! This is disturbing!!"- Garcia complained, but they didn't break the kiss either- "Ok, we'll wait outside, come on, Derek!"

- "Kid, what's..."- But Morgan couldn't continue making fun of Spencer, 'cos Penelope literally dragged him outside, along with Emily and JJ, who were laughing.

(Y/N) giggled, but Spencer didn't break the kiss. His tongue played between her lips slowly, and his hands moved slowly down her back until they reached her waist.

- "I have the feeling you really like me on this play,"- (Y/N) whispered, as her lips rubbed her boyfriend's as she spoke. He chuckled and nodded, deepening the kiss again.

- "Very much."

- "Is it the outfit?"- (Y/N) asked and rested her forehead against Spencer's. He sighed and looked at her for a second.

- "If I have to be honest, I think it was the whole thing,"- he confessed, blushing. For someone who had shamelessly made out with his girlfriend in the middle of a room filled with strangers, he was suddenly timid.

- "You were so different, and... please don't get me wrong. I love you, and I love who you are. But the way you acted... how you played the role of a mean girl..."

- "Did that turn you on?"- (Y/N) whispered, feeling her cheeks turning all shades of pink. Spencer chuckled and bit his lips. He couldn't even speak, so he just nodded and looked at his girlfriend.

- "Do you wanna know something that might make you happy?"

- "What?"- even when they were incredibly close, and no one could hear what they were talking about, (Y/N) leaned in and whispered in his ear.

- "Rachel Cooper's outfit didn't fit me, so I had to buy this one. Which means, I'm gonna take this nurse back home with me, in case you wanna play with her later"- Spencer wide opened his eyes and looked at her, gulping.

- "Really?"

- "Yes, Doctor Reid. Now I suggest you be good and behave in front of your friends. We'll talk about this when we are back in my place. Ok?"- Spencer's words got caught in his throat when he heard (Y/N) giving him commands. All he managed to do was to nod, and her lips sealed the deal with a hot sloppy kiss.

Who could have imagined two nice kids were going to find out they were both pretty dirty at the very same time?

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Taglist: 

@all-tings-diego​ @calm-and-doctor​

[bangtancentricsblog]

jjk/qw: 1

➣ a little something that came about because of Jungkook’s outfit and the way he was mad feeling himself on day 2 of on:e

❒ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

❒ genre: fluff(?), implied smut,

❒ alternative universe: mafia,

❒ rating: 18 +

❒ word count: 1.9 k

warnings/disclosures: no edit we die like men, a little bit of violence, implied smut, Jungkook is tall, dark and handsome, Hoseok is done with your shit, spanking, violence kink?? Is that a think?, cameo from yoongi, joongki must die I don’t think I missed anything but yeah let me know if you see anything!

main ml • AO3

There isn’t much that bothers Jungkook, not by a long shot. He’s a particular kind of man; he takes everything with a grain of salt so he usually isn’t bothered by anything a simple grunt has to say about him. He is however annoyed at the way this grunt speaks of you. All the nasty things he’s got to say about you, how he thinks a cock hungry slut like yourself is fine with anyone as long as they can fuck you stupid. And Jungkook doesn’t like that one bit as he runs the tip of his tongue over his lips. It does nothing to quell the simmering anger that sits beneath the twitch of his fingertips. He can hear a few snickers here and there others throwing in their own thoughts.

Hoseok can see the glazed look that fills Jungkook’s eyes the longer their subordinates speak ill of you. He’s known the younger long enough to understand his limits and this was a limit. It’s a peculiar thing to Hoseok the way Jungkook is with you, he’s soft and sweet but not all the time. And Hoseok will admit he’s walked in on his fair share of your sexual escapades to know that you and Jungkook were something completely different. If he were to compare your relationship to anything he’d say a modern day Harley Quinn and the Joker except with a whole lot less crazy. You two had your moments but he hadn’t seen anything too extreme, yet. The fact was Jungkook ran the biggest underground operations in the world and you, well you were his biggest asset.

Hoseok knew you were good at your job, better than most almost as if you’d been born for it. Now he isn’t saying that you don’t play the ditzy slut well because you do but he knows you’re much, much more than that. You let the underlings believe you’re nothing but a dumb bimbo who likes to sit all pretty in Jungkooks lap when he so pleases. Let them believe you’re nothing but huge tits with a pussy made of gold to have their boss keep you around like he does. It’s laughable really, especially to Hoseok because he knows you.

He knows that Jungkook is the brawn, the face of the operation but you were the brain. You were the reason Jungkook now sat in a gilded throne like the king of an empire when he came from nothing, and he’d done it all for you. Because if Jungkook was king then you were the queen, his queen and Hoseok respected that. So who is he to try and stop Jungkook from harming easily dispensable nobodies? Truth is he could care less but recruiting is slow right now and he doubts Jimin would have anyone ready to replace the empty positions. He’s sighing before he can think better of it, but as luck has it you come waltzing in.

There’s a distinct click clack that comes from your Louboutin heels every time you step foot in the massive warehouse Jungkook runs the operation from. In fact the previous voices have gone quiet as you easily make your way to the back headed straight for the second floor where Jungkook sits and oversees the work of those beneath him. The long sleeved v-neck bodycon dress you wear molds to your figure in a way that grabs the attention of all of those who’d been previously lusting after you, but this outfit is for Jungkook.

You waste no time taking your rightful place in his lap, both legs thrown over his thighs as you sit sideways to better wrap your arms around his neck. Today he’s wearing red, a silk patterned shirt tucked into his pants with nearly all the buttons undone. His chest is out little glimpses of ink peak out from where the shirt lies open for your viewing pleasure. His fingers have found the slight sliver of skin that lies just above the top of your thigh high boots and below the hem of your dress. He’s quick to draw patterns on the only skin available to him, your gaze falls to the necklace that sits pretty at his collar. A thin silver chain you’ve seen once or twice, it makes him look sexier.

“Hello Hoseok.” you chirp never taking your eyes off Jungkook.

“____, to what do we owe the pleasure?” he asks.

“Can’t I just enjoy the company of my boyfriend and his right hand man?”

“No, there’s always something with you.” he sighs gaze moving to Jungkook who has begun to mouth at your neck as you giggle into his ear.

“You guys are weirdly attached at the hip, it’s kinda gross.” Hoseok shudders, before snapping his attention to the sound of voices making their way closer to them. Jungkook, it seems, has also noticed the new arrival pecking your cheek one last time before he’s staring long and hard at one of their subordinates. A boy in his early twenties, Joongki he thinks his name is, personally Hoseok can’t stand him. The boy thinks he’s a hotshot because Taehyung had been nice to him a few times, and had managed to complete a job fairly quicker than some of the others. Had heard him boast that he would definitely be moving up in rank soon, maybe even to the same rank as Yoongi, which was laughable really considering Yoongi did a lot of one man jobs and was good enough to have been recruited to the CIA.

But he supposed a boy could dream, it would take him decades to get to Yoongi’s pay grade and even then it would never happen, not with the way you disliked him. Maybe it’s his arrogance, maybe it’s his swagger (or lack of) but something about his recruitment hadn’t sat well with you. You’d played your dumb bimbo part well when he was around giggling up a storm with him really boosting his ego because it was fun to watch him think your laugh was something he’d said and not actually him. Because as far as you could tell he was a goddamn joke, a real chump and one that they should’ve gotten rid of sooner. But you trusted Jungkook and the boys, so if they kept him around it was for a reason. You’d yet to see it though, today was no different.

Joongki saunters into the room, nose to the sky which already sets you off. Then he’s giving you a once over, the ugly shit brown of his eyes darkened as they zero in on the hemline of the number you’re wearing. You want to wrinkle your nose in disgust because eww you’d never. Then he’s greeting Hoseok and Jungkook like they’re friends, as if he’s on equal standing with them. But what really pisses you off is the way he greets you, the lecherous ‘hey doll’ he let’s slip past his lips makes your blood boil. Heat rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin to the point that Jungkook has to squeeze one of your thighs to reign in your anger.

“Joongki, why are you here?” Hoseok finally asks swallowing thickly, as tension fills the air.

“I’m a higher up now so I’m entitled to the second floor.” He grins, your eyes meet Hoseok’s in confusion, who had promoted this clusterfuck of a human?

“Who promoted you?” Jungkook asks, expression pinched.

“No one directly but Taehyung mentioned a rank promotion a few days ago and I’m the only one worth promoting.” You laugh, an ugly gut busting laugh that fills the halls and startles the others that occupy the floor.

“You stupid, stupid boy.” You say in between hiccups. His eyes narrow at you.

“What would a fucktoy like you know? You’re just here because Jungkook likes an easy fuck.” He spits. Oh what a poor fragile ego he has, you think with a smirk.

“Oh honey I’m more than an easy fuck.” You stand now, easily stepping into his space, in your heels you're a few inches shorter than him. Today was the perfect day for these, you think.

“Yeah, you fancy yourself a housewife? Sorry but whores like you could never be a housewife.” You land a solid blow to his cheek, stupid disrespectful kids. Your hand throbs, the warmed metal of the rings you wear press into your palm as you curl your hand into a fist again. You raise your fist ready to hit him again when a hand wraps around it, pressing into the split skin of your knuckles pulling a hiss past your lips.

“That’s enough, you hurt your pretty hand.” Jungkook says, prying your fingers from the tight fist you hold. Your gaze meets his anger burning in their depths, because this kid was so damn disrespectful. He needed to be put in his place, you refused to let a turd like him talk to you like that.

“Put your bitch in her place.” Joongki spits and Hoseok let’s his eyes fall closed because he doesn’t need to see what comes next.

*

You shove Jungkook against the wall, lips finding the skin of his chest easily. He groans carding his fingers through your hair, tugging on the ends a bit. He’s not surprised that you’d pulled him out the room after he’d beat the shit out of Joongki, it’s one of those things you’d liked about him way before you’d built up this empire. It’s never occurred to him to ask just what you liked about him beating someone up, but he wants to ask now. He wants to know what makes you so much more eager to take his cock, you’re nipping at his jaw, hands tugging his shirt from his pants. He moves to unbutton it but you stop him with a whine.

“Don’t take it off.”

“Hmm?”

“I like it like this, looks sexier.” You sigh, pressing your lips to his a little too desperately.

“Like this, fuck me like this.” You whimper rolling your hips into his. He smirks as you fumble with tugging his pants and boxers down to free his dick. His hands slide under the hem of your dress pulling your panties down, letting they slide down your legs. He pushed the skirt up around your hips landing a solid smack to one of your cheeks, you let out a choked gasp relishing the sting as he smooths his palm over the area. He’s going to thoroughly fuck you, he thinks smirking as you whine needily pressing your tits tighter to his chest.

*

Yoongi stands in the hallway when Hoseok makes his way out the room. He feels like he’s aged years just being in there for that long. He hates when he has to deal with the two of you.

“I saw the lovebirds scurry that way.” Yoongi offers, nodding his head in the direction of the sole bedroom in the warehouse.

“I figured, how’d the job go?”

“Fine, better than expected I had wanted to talk things over with ____, but she’s busy.” He laughs good naturedly.

“Yeah, those two can be domestic as fuck sometimes.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is dangerous. I’ve seen both of them do some pretty crazy shit.”

“Makes you wonder if maybe they’ll ever settle down.” Hoseok sighs.

“This isn’t a family kinda life.” Yoongi mutters, turning on his heel and leaving Hoseok on his own.

[mogaikinscourse]

warriors discourse time (tw: animal death, q word, patriarchy, sexism, caps, bad language)

hey anon!! i completely, completely agree with you. 

the number of lgbtq+/mogai-coded cats, both she-cats and toms, is mindblowing. there are so many! there is so much potential! and yet those identities are reserved for either villains or for cats who are killed off, as you mentioned. 

your mention of Tigerstar makes me think of Scourge, who was always described as having a ‘high-pitched’ voice and having gone through a literal lifetime of bullying & abuse. i do not sympathize with him in any way, but! but. the “high pitched” voice thing has long been theorized among lgbtq+ circles to be a way of stereotyping and othering gay folx. so you’re right about non cishet-coded cats being kind of pushed aside. 

when it comes to gender roles, even the names tend to be gendered. and there’s no reason for gendered names in this universe! at all! she-cat/molly names like Daisy, or Hollyleaf (luv her btw), or Leafpool, or Goldenflower, are much more common than tougher sounding +  gender neutral ones, ie Bluestar/Sandstorm/Cinderheart/Yellowfang. 

meanwhile, toms get names like Firestar, Brambleclaw, Tigerstar/claw, Lionblaze, and on and on. they get names that sound tough or neutral. which speaks to how the Erins actually view the she-cats/mollies in their universe. a she-cat is not as good a fighter, or a hunter, or a clan member, apparently, because they’re not as tough. 

i also don’t like how they treat disability. of course living in the wild, it can’t really make much sense for, say, a cat who’s lost their back leg function to still be a warrior. physically they are not able to do fight like an able bodied warrior, but are they useless? No! can they provide insight into what they’re dealing with? yeah! can they be medicine cats? yeah! can they be advisors to their leaders? yeah! can they be mediators? yeah, probably! there is so much disabled cats can do, and yet... look at what happened to Briarlight. Blossomfall was a massive ableist for being mad that Millie was upset about her sister’s disability... and the Erins showed Big Ableism by not having Blossomfall confront & unlearn her own ableism. 

and the sexism! omfg, the sexism! oof eek yikes! the names thing is a sexism issue, of course. yet. sexism was the driving force behind Bluestar’s Prophecy! why couldn’t she still go for the deputy position while being pregnant or raising her kits? the gestation period for cats is not that long, so would it really be a massive deal for someone to help her during that time... and then for her to take over as full deputy? i mean???? 

that and we see the she-cats suffer more, in general, than toms do when they get into half-clan relationships, with one exception being Graystripe. and even in that example, we see his suffering more than we see Silverstream’s. almost as if his pain matters more  because he’s a tom. hmm. 

i really was bothered that they didn’t let Ivypool be lesbian or aroace. i was bothered that, despite her initial discomfort with the idea of having kits (and even outright repulsion), they had her “get over it” and get a mate. that reminds me uncomfortably of the “oh she just needs some pp” thing that men do when women are in bad moods/upset. 

ahhh, there’s also the casual kitty xenophobia! the kittypet blood thing. i can understand why kittypets wouldn’t be allowed in clans that have to be as physically strong, fit, and used to nature as possible to survive outside. but .i don’t get why the clans have to despise kittypets’ very existence. live and let live. i guess that’s too much of a difficult concept for these authors to grasp. 

i shall also be pirating or borrowing my warriors books from now on, because i still enjoy the stories overall. but it really is nasty how much minority-coded cats are pushed aside and not allowed to be actual characters. 

i don’t think i need to say a single word  on the exclusion of nonbinary folx... the erins know animals can be born intersex, right? and if these cats are humanized, fantasy cats... then they can have gender identity, they know that, right???

let’s all just remember that we need to consume our media critically. and, as anon said, no work is ever going to be 100% free of problematic content. 

just because someone enjoys a work that has problems... doesn’t mean the person thinks those problems are good things. 

but! steer clear of people who like a ton of problematic sources, because that is a sign of their refusal to recognize the problems.

“ashfur just loved too much” -- shut.

[the-moldy-sunflower]

Day 2

No prompt today.

Nadia has always seen things that others couldn’t. Her parents were on board with her imaginary friends until she started school, where the teachers were concerned about just how vivid and detailed Nadia’s “visions” were getting. She learned to tamp it down, to conceal the things she saw. When she saw a man in what looked like a toga sailing an ancient-looking sailboat in the harbor, she turned the other way. Once, she opened her fridge and found a shrunken head sitting on the top shelf, perched on a tub of hummus. She simply closed the door and pushed the sight from her mind. The image that proved too difficult to forget, though, was that of a beautiful woman, wearing a dress of vibrant olive-green that flowed like the curves of an ancient statue over her robust hips and full abdomen. Her plump arms were adorned with thick gold wires coiling from wrist to shoulder like a gilded snake. A wreath of green foliage rested upon her head, among wild chocolate curls. Nadia saw this woman every day since leaving home and living alone. Always in a different place, perched in a rocking chair in the living room, standing next to the clerk at the local deli as she ordered lunch, even in the exam room during doctor’s visits.  

Her visions were ever-changing, with the exception of the woman. Sometimes she would just notice someone out of place from the corner of her eye. This was easier to ignore, and made it less complicated to feign normalcy. Of course she wasn’t seeing people and things that weren’t actually there, Nadia told herself. She expended most of her energy pretending to be perfectly ordinary. But Sasmoae knew that Nadia was anything but ordinary.

Sasmoae was rumored to be older than time. A nasty bit of scuttle-butt that was no doubt started by that gossip Umuesoci. Sasmoae has been watching over humans like Nadia for only about 500 years, thank you very much. A mere fleeting moment compared to some of the other Numen, the oldest of which, the Ancients, have lived for millenia. Sasmoae was born from the ashes of a grove of olive trees. The trees had been struck by the Numen of love, Lovtluota. Lovtluota was tired of witnessing the horror and atrocity that the humans inflicted upon each other. She was so heartbroken by it, in fact, that she gathered the Ancients to do something to punish the mortals. Together, they burned down the olive trees and from the ashes they formed Sasmoae, a lesser Numen who was tasked with watching over  the Voshriie, a special group of gifted mortals who would one day save humankind from themselves. The Voshriie were the only humans allowed to see the Numen in their personified forms, though the Numen were forbidden from initiating any interaction with humans, Voshriie or otherwise. 

Nadia didn’t know any of this though. If you asked her what a Numen was, she likely would have guessed it to be a new brand of lightbulbs. Nadia had always been Sasmoae’s favorite and most important Voshriie. She loved to watch her commuting to work on her bicycle. She loved watching the corners of Nadia’s mouth twitch upward at the smell of freshly baked bread or a newly opened bottle of good wine. Sasmoae longed for the moments when Nadia would notice her and their eyes would meet, but dreaded the fear she would see boil up into mortal’s eyes. She yearned for conversation, interaction, anything but lurking in corners watching the world, and Nadia, go by.

One day, a day like any other, Nadia was commuting home from work on foot. After a break in several days of relentless midwestern rainstorms, Detroit was finally experiencing a beautiful spring day. Nadia had decided to forgo her bike, favoring a nice walk with the sun warming her face. She even took off her cardigan to expose her pale shoulders, hoping to get lucky and capture a little tan. Sasmoae sensed this thought from her favorite Voshriie and chuckled to herself, knowing better than anyone that Nadia does not tan, she freckles. 

Suddenly, Nadia realized she left her keys on her desk, a fact that Sasmoae was of course already aware of but completely powerless to announce. Nadia turned around and quickened her pace, hoping to get to the office and back on her way home before the sun started to sink behind the tall buildings of the city, covering the streets below in a sheet of darkness. 

Sasmoae new she wouldn’t make it.

After retrieving her keys and re-locking her office, she traversed back down the stairs and returned to the street below, noting that dusk was starting to arise and hastening her pace even more. She clutched her keys in one hand and her phone in the other, just in case she needed to fake a phone call to get some creep off her back. She’d lived in the city for 6 years now, and had had her fair share of run-ins with men on the street. Nadia liked to think she could take care of herself. 

But Sasmoae saw him before she did.

Sasmoae would have recognized Drur anywhere. It was uncharacteristic of him to be without at least a few members of his army of Irondemons, but there he was. Sasmoae could sense Drur’s hunger before she saw him, balancing on a cane, wearing dated but nonetheless modern clothes: a plaid button up, moth-bitten beige sweater vest, and too-big slacks. His telltale sunken eyes and veiny reptilian skin caught Sasmoae’s eye. He craved the soul of a Voshriie, would do just about anything to lead one down to his hidden corner of the Netherworld. Drur was a Numen of trickery and deceit. His ideal night on the town includes coming up from the Nether, crafting a disguise, and trancing through mortal towns wreaking havoc, getting all sorts of humans into all sorts of trouble. It was his actions that had forced Lovtluota and the Ancients to create Sasmoae in the first place. Drur was everything bad about the universe; he was every awful thing any human has ever done. 

And he stood a block and a half in front of Nadia.

He was disguised only for Nadia’s sake, and that of any other various Voshriie who may have the displeasure of meeting him on a darkening street. None of the other mortals were any wiser to the immense evil that stood among them. 

Sasmoae pushed the boundaries of what she was allowed to do with Nadia present. Never speaking, she sped up to match Nadia’s pace and looked over, desperate to meet her gaze. When Nadia finally noticed and glanced at the Numen, she was met with an expression of terror. The angelic face she was so accustomed to seeing was contorted, frenzied and ghost-white. Her eyes darted between Nadia’s and the strange old man up the street. Nadia tried to ignore her, speeding up her pace to continue pretending what she saw as clear as day was not there. But Sasmoae was persistent. 

Looking back up to where the old man had been standing, she admittedly felt a wave of relief when she found him to have moved on, no longer standing in her path. She turned to Sasmoae once more and shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows as if to say see, it’s fine. He’s gone. 

But Sasmoae wasn’t looking at Nadia anymore. She looked past Nadia to the other side of the street. Nadia noticed the woman’s face darken as what she thought was the night overtook the street.

Only it wasn’t night that was causing everything to go black; it was a shadow. 

As she turned to see what this strange, imaginary woman was gaping at, Nadia could see that it was bad.

So very, very bad.

The old man was no longer a small, frail mortal with a strange face. He was now an  armor clad nightmare with the features of a human but the complexion of a snake. He towered over the oblivious, unseeing humans, and was easily able to peak over some of the massive buildings. Nadia could see a reptilian tongue the size of a pick-up truck flicking wildy from his mouth. He was looking right at her with his glowing, snake-like eyes.  

“We have to get out of here,” a voice like honey-dipped apples sounded behind her. She pulled her attention from the horrible figure across the street and saw the face of her protector looking at her. Sasmoae’s breath caught in her throat as she reeled from being so close to Nadia, wanting nothing more than to scoop her up and take her somewhere safe.

“It’s you,” was all Nadia could seem to get out, her mind racing with images of every vision of this strange, ethereal woman over the years. She turned to peer at Drur again, then looked back at Sasmoae, still utterly shocked. Hoping the Ancients would forgive her for breaking the rules to save one of the most important and powerful of the Voshriie from the King of the Netherworld and his army of blood-soaked, metal-born Irondemons, she quickly decided would she have to take  Nadia to a place where Drur wouldn’t think to look.

They would have to travel to Constos. 

She looked at Drur one last time, then she grasped Nadia’s trembling hands in hers and pictured the pristine forest, cool springs, and groves of fruit trees dotting the land in and around Constos. With a start, they tumbled through the veil between the worlds, mortal and Numen. The pair gripped each other’s hands, each just as unsure about how this moment might change their lives, each just as scared of the terrifying monster they fled from. 

But Sasmoae, not Nadia, was the one who knew just how far Drur would go to find the Voshriie girl so worth saving, a lesser Numen was willing to risk execution to do just that. Only Sasmoae could keep the savior of both worlds safe. 

And she would stop at nothing to protect Nadia. After all, it was what she was born to do.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #167: Tomorrow Dies Today!

January, 1978

Oh hey the Guardians of the Galaxy! Not the ones more known these days and never at the same level of popularity but an interesting bunch just the same!

I’ve been actually thinking of going and reading some of the original team original run.

On this cover, Beast punches a guy in the face and the rest of the Avengers are like hey slow your roll this is a crossover not a hero vs hero event.

Anyway, we start off killing tomorrow today with a priority communications alarm interrupting him from his shower.

You’d think that since its a communications alarm and not necessarily an emergency, he could continue showering and let someone else take the call and if it is an emergency then someone can knock on the door and let him know.

Like, I understand that with the stuff the Avengers deal with its good to stay on your toes but Beast is completely covered in hair. When he starts a shower, its a long, inevitable process that should be seen to until the end.

Otherwise he’s going to drip everywhere and probably smell like dog.

He’s not even the only one who is not ready. Scarlet Witch is half dressed.

And Steve “I probably go on a ten mile run every morning for fun” Rogers criticizes Beast for not getting up to shower at 0600.

Beast, Cap, and Scarlet Witch arrive at the communications center to find Vision already there.

Also, why do they have so many chairs in here? This is more chairs than they have in their living room.

A lot of the Avengers equipment is a mystery to me. They seem like they have a lot of the typical superhero headquarters monitoring equipment but also they so often wait for problems to happen on the news before they notice them.

Anyway, it actually is an emergency so Beast would have had to interrupt his shower anyway.

Nick Fury is on the horn and he tells them to turn on the feed from the Avengers’ monitoring satellite because of course they have one of those and need to watch the news anyway.

Per Fury’s request, they focus the Avengers satellite on the SHIELD space station. Weirdly they can’t see any stars behind the station. Just an endless wall of white.

Beast zooms out and-

AHHHHHHHHHH UNICRON HAS COME AT LAST TO DEVOUR OUR WORLD!

Galactus is going to be miffed.

Except no. This looks like a double Unicron. Which is possibly twice as bad.

Apparently this giant structure popped out of nowhere and its orbit is going to smash the SHIELD station all over it in a couple hours.

So the Avengers assemble to finish getting dressed and also to go check out a mysterious huge space thing.

Like I said, this is the huge space thing portion of their lives.

On the station, playboy industrialist Tony Stark claims he has urgent business on Earth.

Nick Fury is like no shit of course I’m not letting you get smashed with the rest of us you dink, get on a shuttle and go.

Fun fact: the SHIELD space station is where Steven Lang’s Project: Armageddon set up shop. And coming up to space to stop him is what led to Jean Grey becoming the Phoenix.

Secretly, Tony Stark has to get back to Earth so he can change into Iron Man and lead the Avengers back up here.

Double lives are hard.

Meanwhile, Thor and Wonder Man are enjoying some bonding time in a diner.

Thor confesses that some mysterious force has been transporting him back to Earth every time the Avengers need his help. Which has to be every couple of days. Its almost as if he’s being displaced through time.

Wonder Man goes wow cool uh I’ll be no help figuring that out but as long as we’re here maybe you can give me some advice.

Wonder Man: “You see... sometimes I -- I feel as though I’m not man enough to be a super man!”

-interrupting Avengers beeper says no time for feels, time for punches-

So Wonder Man and Thor fly back to Avengers’ Mansion.

But they have to wait because Iron Man still hasn’t joined them.

And when he does show up, Cap goes off on him.

Iron Man: “Sorry I’m late, group!”

Captain America: “You’re sorry you’re late? A hundred men might die up there, and --”

Iron Man: “Then shut up and get into the ship!”

Also, new Quinjet! Space Quinjet!

Only minutes later, the Avengers have arrived on the SHIELD station. Which is... really impressive.

But since it took them so long (because of Iron Man), there’s no time left for anything fancy. The big double Unicron is only half a mile away.

Now the only option is to spacesuit up (except for Thor and Vision), rocket across to an opening that the station’s brand new Stark computer pinpointed, and find a way to redirect or destroy the giant space thing in... fifteen minutes.

Geez.

I’m pretty sure fifteen minutes wouldn’t even get you from one side to the other of that thing.

But the Avengers do rocket across. And the opening that the computer found was an airlock. And interestingly, they find that the atmosphere inside the station is breathable and even chemically perfect for humans!

Now that is interesting. Does that mean that this is a human construction?

Not necessarily. The Avengers never had trouble breathing on Skrull ships or Thanos’ giant H, or even on the Kree homeworld.

I mean maybe the chemically perfect line signifies that even beyond everyone in space breathing the same thing except that one group of aliens that kidnapped that lung expert, that this construct has a human friendly atmosphere.

Iron Man weighs in. Atmosphere or not, whether the occupants are humanoid or not, this construct is far beyond the capabilities of any Earthly power.

Boring and also a waste of time says Cap.

And he steps up and takes charge, giving everyone a directive.

They should split up to cover more ground.

And while that would usually be a bad idea on a space station that appeared out of nowhere and could contain any number of alien nasties, the simple fact is that they have a vanishingly small amount of time.

Splitting up is the only way to cover any significant amount of territory.

So Vision and Wanda are one team. Wonder Man and Cap another. Thor and Iron Man another. And Beast is on his own because they have an odd number of people.

Although Beast wonders why he’s the one without a partner. He used mouthwash that morning!

Meanwhile, while Iron Man dismisses Thor’s concern that Iron Man might be troubled over Cap taking charge, in reality he is troubled.

Iron Man: “On the other hand it’s no secret what Cap thinks of my leadership! I suspect his resentment is growing and getting personal! With the stakes the team is playing for, that kind of dissension can lead to sudden death!”

Maybe its time to consider whether someone without their own book should lead the team then.

Meanwhile elsewhere, Beast is climbing through the air ducts or perhaps Jefferies tubes. And actually Cap had a point splitting him off like this. Beast is the only one who has the agility to crawl through tubes like this.

Good call, Cap!

But when he pokes his head out of the Jefferies air duct, someone grabs him and yanks him out like a radish.

Hey, its Charlie-27! From a race engineered to live on Jupiter, he’s about 11 times stronger and denser than a normal human being.

Also, its Nikki Gold! Raised on Mercury, she has high resistance to heat and most radiation and also HER HAIR IS FIRE.

And the thing is, they don’t think Beast is an enemy. They think he’s some kind of ugly alien space monkey that can also parrot words like a raven.

Beast refuses to put up with that sitting down dangling by his scruff so he kicks Charlie-27 in the face and starts bouncing all over the room.

Nikki tries to shoot Beast because, hey, he’s a rude monkey. But he’s bouncing so fast she can’t get a bead on him despite having aim adjacent to Annie Oakley’s.

But then Beast tries to tackle Charlie-27 and just bounces off. Because dang. Remember? Eleven times more massive than a normal person? Its rather like Beast just tried to jump kick a brick wall.

Before possibly breaking a toe kicking a guy built like a brick house, Beast also muses on the weirdery of the two of them speaking English.

Which again isn’t so odd. Universal translators exist. And a lot of aliens speak English.

But all these things like the atmosphere and aliens speaking English? This time they signify something other than narrative convenience.

Nikki jumps to confront the dazed Beast but with a RRRAK! a coherent light burst separates the two.

The rest of the Guardians have shown up, specifically Starhawk who tells Charlie-27 and Nikki to stand down.

Starhawk: “This fighting must cease! I sense that he is not evil! Accept the word of one who knows!”

Lets run up the line.

Blue guy red fin is Yondu Udonta and he is absolutely familiar if you only know Guardians from the movies. Like in the movies, he has special arrows that he can control through whistling. But in the comics he also uses a bow. He is from Alpha Centauri which kind of breaks the theme of the Guardians all being humans but adapted for life on different planets of the solar system.

Unlike the movies, Yondu is portrayed as noble savage IN SPACE. Going with that he has an intuitive and mystical rapport with nature. IN SPACE! Making him a space Alabaman was probably a better idea.

Next there is Starhawk. In the movie he was Sylvester Stallone and very disappointed in Yondu. In the comics, he’s just weird. He was conceived on Earth, was born on Vesper, and was raised on Arcturus IV. He has a grab bag of powers like flight, super strength, light manipulation and being the one who knows thanks to being empowered by the Hawk God. He’s also in an on-again off-again fusion with an Aleta Ogord. He’s basically weird.

Next is Martinex. His people were genetically-engineered to colonize Pluto so he’s made of silicon crystal instead of meat. He can also siphon heat out of the environment or vent it. Which lets him shoot heat rays or cold beams somehow.

And finally we have Vance Astro, Major Victory. He’s another weird one. He was sent on a mission to help colonize Centauri IV, put in cryogenic hibernation, and woke up to find that he wasted his damn time because faster travel had been invented and people got there before him. And now he has to stay in his astronaut suit or age rapidly. Also also, he has psychokinesis. And also his younger self became New Warrior Marvel Boy and probably ruined his chances of becoming an astronaut by killing his abusive dad.

Comics are weird.

Beast doesn’t know this though. He just sees a bunch of asshole aliens who are still calling him monkey so he jumps to attack Charlie-27′s face.

But is interrupted when Mjolnir flies by, snags him in its loop and drags him away. Which is damn good trajectory control.

Anyway, despite split up gang we’ll cover more ground, the Avengers have reassembled off-screen and apparently recognize the Guardians from prior team-ups. With Cap in Marvel Two-in-One #5 and with Thor in Thor Annual #6.

And now Major Victory recognizes the Avengers. Because he is from this time period and oh man oh geez the Avengers are his heroes! He used to dream of meeting them!

So a potential misunderstanding fight cut off before it began and the teams introduce themselves.

And no worry about the SHIELD station. The Guardian’s meteor deflectors will gently shove it out of the way instead of running into it. This whole mission was pointless!

Except as set-up. And honestly, even if the Guardian’s station wasn’t going to run into the SHIELD station, I’d hope that they’d be interested in why a giant space thing appeared.

Thor recaps his crossover with the Guardians because it happened so recently he hadn’t had a chance to put it in the Avengers files yet and also because the details are relevant.

He teamed up with the Guardians to invade Korvac’s Wonderworld. Who is Korvac?

He was a collaborator with the Badoon when they conquered the Sol System IN THE FUTURE. But they caught him napping at work one day so they grafted his upper body to his work station because the Badoon are dicks.

So obviously he turned on them and started a plan to conquer the cosmos by trying to make Earth’s Sun go nova.

Aw dangit, Thanos, you trendsetter!

The Guardians plus Thor were able to thwart Korvac’s plan and minions but Korvac escaped by traveling back in time to the year this year.

They’re not sure what he’s planning but when a guy who tried to blow up the Sun goes back in time you just have to kind of assume its nothing good. For instance, Major Victory’s past self is currently a child on Earth. If Korvac kills young Vance Astro, then Major Victory never gets frozen like a space Captain America and never goes on to form the Guardians.

So they have to stop him. Except if its on Earth, Major Victory can’t get involved. Two Vance Astros on Earth would mess up the time stream.

(Beast you were right there for this conversation, why did you think bringing the original X-Men into the present from the past was a good idea??)

Meanwhile, on Earth, Janet Van Dyne makes her debut as a fashion designer.

I had been wondering where she and Hank (Pym) were. Sort of weird that they didn’t get paged about this though. There’s a giant thing in space and they buzz Thor and Wonder Man away from dinner but Jan doesn’t get called away from her fashion show.

Maybe she left her bleeper at home.

Anyway, also in the crowd is Kyle Richmond, aka Nighthawk, aka Not-Batman. He’s usually on the Defenders, being a jerk, but Yellowjacket is sometimes doing stuff with the Defenders so maybe that’s why he’s here.

He does comment to himself that it’s weird for him to sit through a fashion show.

Kyle Richmond also notices a weirdo sitting next to him in the crowd. Wearing a tux in this day and age and sitting like a statue. He doesn’t react to anything until a model named Carina Walters takes a turn down the catwalk in a sultry summer jumpsuit.

Kyle being the kind of person he is, sees that this weirdo stranger reacts to Carina and thinks “Forget it, pal! You’re not her type!”

You’re a gem, Kyle.

And then Porcupine busts in to rob the place.

Just his luck that he chose to rob a place where three superheroes were chilling. Porcupines are seriously unlucky.

Hank Pym and Janet waste no time shrinking down to shoot the robbers with tiny blasts.

Janet was also far-thinking enough to have her dress made from unstable molecule cloth so she wouldn’t have to fly around naked just in case a supervillain tried to rob her fashion show.

Its this kind of forethought that made her one of the better chairpeople that the Avengers ever had.

Just saying. Civil Wars don’t happen when Jan runs the show.

And while the rest of the audience panics and flees and screams, the mysterious tux weirdo continues to calmly sit in his seat.

Kyle Richmond managed to sneak off and change into his costume and I don’t even know where he managed to hide the wings because they would not fit under his civilian clothes.

But anyways, he helps punch people that dare ruin Jan’s big debut.

Including a guy that hesitates from shooting at Nighthawk because he doesn’t want to go up on a murder rap. Nighthawk makes the very valid argument that not making a decision is a way of making a decision and unnamed robber made the right decision.

What a weird segment. I hope no-shoot criminal turns his life around.

Anyway, the tuxedo weirdo shows up where Carina is tending to a fainted Mrs. Lichterdale. And he silently offers her a hand.

And without a word spoken she feels his desire but also his offer and without a word spoken she departs with him.

And they seem to teleport or something from the scene while the heroes are distracted shooting Porcupine with pink and yellow zaps until he finally falls down.

Only after the villains are all unconscious does Mrs. Licherterdale inform Jan that Carina is missing along with Jan’s sultry summer jumpsuit.

Hank is sure that she just got frightened and ran off somewhere. She’ll turn up!

Jan: “I hope! That was my favorite outfit!”

Oh Jan!

So here we go again. Once again we take our first step into a run defining story arc. It was only back in May that I started the Celestial Madonna Saga and now here we are once again on the front porch of a long saga I have mixed feelings about.

The Korvac Saga.

The Shooteriest part of Shooter’s run on Avengers.

At the least, we’re going to get some more time with the Guardians. The downside to not having a misunderstanding fight is that if you’re solely following Avengers, we haven’t really seen what they can do yet.

And they have some good batshit stuff that they get up to. Like the giant double Unicron station? Its called Drydock. It was a, well, drydock and training facility. When the Badoon invaded, the commander used its experimental warp drive to keep the station out of Badoon hands. But warp radiation killed the entire crew.

In an almost Red Dwarfian move, the computer needed people to give it orders. So it created a simulated crew to tell it what to do. Except the simulated commander went insane and captured the Guardians of the Galaxy to create a clone army of friends. So Charlie-27 had to run the gauntlet of the station’s security and shut down the computer.

That stuff right there? That’s amazing. And I don’t mind at all if the Guardians are hanging around bringing that kind of craziness to the Avengers.

Oh and also, I guess there’s the mystery of what Korvac is up to and whether the tuxedo weirdo is related. I already know the answer but what are you going to do? Google information?

Pssah.

[awaragainstboredom]

Writer’s Block: The RPG Method Part 1

I role play a lot. Like I’m currently a player character in 4 games, and I run my own campaign, and working on the world for my own homebrew campaign. This is also done in regularity on a weekly basis, which is completely different from back in the day we were lucky to get a few weekly sessions, and reconvene months later in the same campaign, only to never get back to the game again. 

Things like family, work, depression, etc. would end up putting those games on the back-burner, which was really a death flag for a campaign. I’ve made so many characters for so many role playing systems, just to never play as them ever again.

I honestly never thought I would become one of those guys who plays tabletop rpgs as much as I do. I mean, in the past when someone would share with me that they were in two D&D campaigns, and was part of a LARP over the weekend I would think it was ridiculous and laugh at their fervor for wanting to be in that many games. Well, the joke’s on me now.

However to my defense, this isn’t mostly about escapism. Okay, not to say that it isn’t, but I took on this many games to help out with my writer’s block. I see role playing games as a different way to explore narrative. 

You not only act out your characters, but you have to overcome challenges with a game of chance. And even though the person who is running the game and helping direct you through the story, that dice roll, whether it passes or fails the challenge (or check, if your nasty), effects the tale that is being woven, and you played an active part in it. That’s really amazing!

I’ve also read that a good number of fantasy novels that have originated from role playing campaigns. George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones series, and Scott Lynch’s Gentleman Bastard books are couple of examples. Game of Thrones was born from a Roman rpg, and Gentleman Bastard’s main character Locke Lamora was based upon a character Lynch made for D&D (which to my delight, I learned was also based on the “treasure hunter”, Locke Cole from Final Fantasy VI).

This was enough to influence me to try and do the same. Universe building is hard for those who prefer to write in such a manner, because it’s hard to balance out how much detail do I want to write about said world and not get obsessed with it and never actually finish it, or at least that has been my experience. 

My goal here is to document as much as I can about things that I have made for my games in the way of world creation, and characters for other peoples games. I know some Dungeon Masters don’t want a novel for character backgrounds, so give them a short and concise one, and you can go and expand on it more on your own.

Or maybe you can just make it as you go along in the game that you are playing in currently. As an example for character background here is mine for my D&D character Rota.

                                                  ***

                                     Rota Grendelstadt

Rota, the magic academy drop-out turned sellsword, ventures forth to find knowledge in all things, and the true path of a warrior. Hailing from the cold north in the fishing town of Grendelstadt (located close to Neverwinter), she stands at 6 foot 5, with a lean muscular build, moonlight-pale skin, with silver hair in a fringe style cut and silver eyes to match. And if that doesn’t make her stand out, then perhaps the fact that she is a tiefling without a tail (Her mother and her father were the same, as well as most tieflings of Grendelstadt). Though tall, and muscular she is surprisingly bookish and introverted. She is brash, quick-tempered, prone to violence, fiery, socially challenged, but has a good heart, quick on her feet, tenacious, dependable, and has an weird natural charisma that draws people to her.

She is highly knowledgeable in magic theory and formulae, however she cannot connect to mana in order to cast spells. She has spent a lot her time honing her physical skills and researching why she in not able to use magic. She is working with a theory that she heard about when one exceeds their mental and physical limits, perhaps they can open a channel that can connect to the magical tapestry.

Growing up in a family of adventurers definitely was not the most normal of upbringings. Even with the simple life on a farm, Rota’s mother Herja wanted her to be as strong as she is and would put her through rigorous training that even the militia of Grendelstadt wouldn’t go through. And her father Beolf, a skald, would be off travelling to do research for his book of races and culture of the world. Because of this she hardly saw her father, but Beolf would make sure that when he was home he would bring her back books.

Beolf was rather awkward when he would see his daughter, and the only things that would break the silence between the two were to talk about books, and her mother’s crazy training routine. Though Beolf loved her, and tried his best (that he could muster) to be a parent to Rota, his trips back were too short and very infrequent, which caused their relationship to be a distant one.  

The dramatic change that shaped Rota into who she is now begins with the death of her father, Beolf. She spent the rest of her life being raised by her mother, uncle and various friends of the family. It wasn’t a normal childhood, being that she had to flee for her safety and train to become a warrior to be strong enough to defend herself and help others. It was a kind of splintered family unit with a bunch of troubled, dysfunctional adventurers. And though they all mean well in their way of bringing Rota up, they struggle with their own egos and misconceptions of what makes one a hero, and is there really such a thing?

Rota’s  father was killed in a fight with his cousin, over the spoils from an adventure that her father had owed to the cousin. And it was within the laws of their country for those who have been wronged by their neighbor or kinsmen, by settling things out in a physical challenge. Her father, Beolf and their cousin, Thorfinn chose to have a wrestling match as their way of settling their differences, while the Jarl, Falken was to oversee the fight and uphold the law.

Of course it was all an act to misdirect the Falken, to make him think that he and Thorfinn were on the outs. And by with Beolf creating a schism in the Grendelstadt family, the gamble was to perhaps draw the attention of the jarl to try pull Thorfinn on his side, allowing him to gain Falken’s trust and be the inside man. The jarl was pursuing Beolf and his comrades who had found the underground site for the earl’s humanoid smuggling ring that was being overseen by The Order of the Unspoken Rhyme (which Falken is a member of).

The Order of the Unspoken Rhyme is connected to the Cult of the Dragon, and handles underworld business for them making them an enemy of Beolf and his friends, who have vowed to take down the Order and their allies at any turn. Upon dismantling the slave trade, they also came upon treasure that Falken thought would be well hidden from anyone but himself. However the quick eyes of the bard Beolf found it. And within the cache of treasure was an ancient tome most dangerous, and Beolf knew he had to find a safe place for it.

He took all of the treasure and sent it to three different locations and had cut a map into 6 pieces to be found in order to find the treasure, and secretly sent the tome to his wizard friend and adventuring partner, Touchstone, who keeps it locked away hidden in the wizards’ academy, Hippocampus Scale, that the earl would focus on searching for the other treasures. Foolishly, death was the last thing that Beolf was prepared for in his plan. Thorfinn broke Beolf’s ribs which went directly into his lungs. He could have been healed, but Falken didn’t allow any outside potions, and only his healers at the fight. It was said he also might have had some responsibility in the “accident”.

At the age of 9, Rota saw her father die before her eyes, but did not shed a tear for him. Not because she was trying to make herself seem strong in front of the jarl and his men - she just didn’t know how.

Rota’s mother Herja, uncle Sigurd, and cousin Thorfinn were  devastated by these events and knew that things would become tough for them in Grendelstadt. Though being the tough battle-hardened adventurers they were, they knew that they would be alright.  However, as the years went by the concern was growing that Rota would be used as some sort of bargaining chip to find the treasure. the Grendelstadt family knew they had to send Rota off before things would get really dire.

At the age 12  it was decided that she were to be sent away from her town of Grendelstadt to attend a wizard’s academy, Hippocampus Scale and learn to become a wizard like she always wanted to be (Thorfinn pays for her tuition to account for the death of a kinsmen, as per the law of their country), while being under the watchful eye of her godfather, the human wizard Touchstone (who’s equally sassy as he is powerful).

She learns that she does have amazing aptitude for understanding magic formulas and theory. However when it comes to practice, she is terrible at actually manifesting the spell. Not because she doesn’t understand it, but because her connection to the source of mana is weak. All the spells would just fizzle right in front of her.

And although her grades were high in every other course of study except for spell casting, she became the object of ridicule among her peers (which would end in episodes of violence, mostly by her). Whenever there were spell casting exercises she would spend most of her time reading, and doing physical training that she learned from her warrior mother, who pushed her not only in farm work, but also learning how to fight with weapons.

Later on the headmaster of the Hippocampus Scale, upon Touchstone’s suggestion, wanted her help out with what they called “Battle Training”, or “Real Life Combat”, in which she would be the physical combat participant for her peers, so they would learn how to use spells effectively in combat. Normally they have hired swords stand in for this, but they thought it would be interesting to have someone who could understand spellcraft, formulas, and theory, and apply them to fighting against a mage, and see how they would react to it. Her popularity rose in both positive and negative ways after this, but she was known not to be a simple challenge to her rivals anymore.

She was going take the job of becoming a researcher in Hippocampus Scale, and then maybe some way she could find out how to connect with the source of mana. Touchstone, though proud of her accomplishments, saw that she was only making things harder on herself in her pursuit learning how to cast spells and felt that she need to find another path to become what she wanted.

And sent her off to become an apprentice to one of he and her father’s other adventuring comrades, the master swordsman, Dragnar Fafnirson. He thought perhaps that her connection to mana will come from a battle-borne soul. However before he sent her off from Hippocampus Scale, he gave her the ancient tome that her father had found to protect it (He was beginning to see the Order’s shadow reach out to his academy).

After her training with Dragnar, she was pitted against Herja, to test her strength. Her mother quickly dispatched Rota, and sent her back to continue her training, but not after scolding Dragnar first. And though she won’t tell Rota this, she did get some good hits on her mother, which excited her blood to see what potential her daughter has in the way of battle. With a few more years of learning under Dragnar, her master sent her out to get some experience, by sending her out in the world to test her mettle.

Other notes:

She would get in trouble with her mother, Herja when she was reading instead of doing farm work, or physical training. She learned how to workout and read at the same time because of this. And when she is not fighting, she is never without a book. She also likes to visit libraries of each city she comes across. Rota also cannot stand wizards who have semi-useful spells, and thinks it is a waste. She is also very arrogant when it comes to talking with spell casters.

She was estranged with her father Beolf, and spent most of her early years being raised by her mother and uncle. Beolf was thought to be a gallivanting bard, getting caught in women and wine, and was just a deadbeat father (or at least how those in Grendelstadt saw him), he really did care about his daughter and would bring her books whenever he came back to town.

She really didn’t know how to react after his death, because she felt she didn’t know him really well, except for the fact that he was the nice guy that gave her books and would share his love of them with her. It was after his death that she learned he was actually trying to save the world from evil. And it was only years later did her tears come after reading a poem that he dedicated to her in the signed copy of the book that he wrote.

[ellesheltonwalczak]

July Story: Primer

Primer is the working title. This is an except of a novel I have been working on. 

I couldn't wait to get out of the elevator and into my office.  The short distance in my heels to my office had already made my feet painful stubs. The day had not even started yet and the prospect of figuring out how to look sophisticated and lawyerly with a limp was upon me once again. 

"Any messages? 

"No" Helene replied, eyeing me as I turned toward my office. "Your feet hurt already?" 

Being in no mood to see the expression on her face, I continued to hobble to my office.  “We all can't be as practical as you," which was the very thing I loved and loathed about her.

I tore off my shoes, and sat greatfully behind my desk. Perusing over my calendar i noticed a 9:30 am appointment with Tennesen Beale blocked for an hour.

"Helene! Who is my 9:30 appointment?! A potential new client?!"

Showing more professionalism than her boss, Helene replied through the intercom. "No. He's opposing counsel on the Teague case. He called earlier this morning and asked if you had an immediate opening in your calendar. You did." 

How would he know I have the Teague case? I searched my mind and the week's past events frantically. Had I said something to someone, other than my husband, that I was assisting Ismey's father in bringing a wrongful death suit against William. Crap! was the only thing that came to mind. Had I said that out loud? I wasn't sure, because Helene was silent on the other end. 

"Let't me know when he gets here. But do not show him in right away. I'll let you know when I'm ready." I disconnected before she could answer.

"Crap!" I said again, knowingly out loud this time. I had less than fifteen minutes to figure out who Tennesen Beale was. I wasn't one to keep another attorney purposefully waiting. A lot of attorneys played that waiting game as an intimidation or power tactic. It worked on me when I was a young attorney. But now that I am sufficiently seasoned I found the device lacking in originality and creativity. 

I searched for my new adversary's name. There were no shortages of newspaper and legal articles about him and by him. 

I learned that Mr. Beale, aged sixty-two was a southern son, born and raised in Kentucky.  He has been married for 30 years, and is an alum of the University of Kentucky. Straight after school he ventured to the University of Virginia Law School, (clearly a real idiot I desperately joked to myself) and joined a southern law firm immediately after graduation. This was not his first foray into the personal injury world. It seems that thirty-five years later he was not too eager to leave it. 

The research then proceeded to taunt me with case after case of substantially high dollar verdicts. If I did not feel out of my league earlier, I did now. Looking to the sky I yelled: "Ismey, what in the hell have you gotten me into!" As if on cue, Helene's voice came through the intercom. 

"Mr. Beale is here to see you." 

Horrified. I responded as cooly as possible, "Of course. Just tell Mr. Beale I will be with him momentarily. Helene can you please assist me in my office for a minute." 

"Yes." she  said. That was another thing about Helene. She never gave slang injected responses. It was either, "Yes" or "No," not "Uhuh" or "Nah." I asked her about this once and she said it stemmed from her years as a court reporter. She said that even the most intelligent person appeared  stupid and inarticulate when using slang or abbreviations like "24/7.” These were her personal nails on a chalk board"

Helene looked confused when she entered the office.  "Will you please shut the door." I requested.  "Did you and Mr. Beale happen to hear what I said a moment ago? 

"Yes." said said in a rather bland tone. 

I could quickly feel desperation and despair descending upon my face. Clearly, sensing my anxiety, Helene said not quickly enough, " But Mr. Beale and I were discussing his arrival, therefore we could not make out most of it." Her use of the word "most" didn't help my feelings much.  Not wanting to know the part they did hear, I asked her to show Mr. Beale in. There was no sense in letting my embarrassment and fear take root.

I stood to greet the quintessentially Southern gentleman. He had all the trappings. Gray haired, beautifully tailored suit, crisp shirt, and a bright bow tie to top it off. What was it with southern men and their bow ties? Was this the uniform they were demanded to wear to show solidarity to the confederacy? This Mr. Beale clearly worked out, but not enough to hide the color of his successes' excesses of either scotch or whiskey. I guessed his bad beer days were long over.  Tennesen wreaked of money, success, and power with some congeniality mixed in. I must have lingered too long on my visual assessment because he took back his hand, smiled, and said: "You look good too." Immediately, i shot my gaze downward. Whew. I put my heels back on. 

Tennesen sat himself down and got right to business. "Carine, " he said in his down to earth homey southern drawl, "Can I call your Carine?" 

"Yes. May I call you Tennesen? 

"Well yes you can." He said with a grin. 

With authority he continued, "Now Carine I'll get to the point. First, you're out of your league. You're a family law attorney. You know nuthin about wrongful death litigation from what I can tell. Dead friend or not, you shouldn't be playin with Ismey’s family's money and emotions. Second. You're barkin up the wrong tree thinkin William killed Ismey. You're way off track."

I didn't know whether to like this Tennesen, or find him tedious and annoying. I have to admit I liked his directness. This was sorely lacking in my neck of the woods. But I hated when people wasted my time with their unsolicited advice that only stood to help their cause.  For years I've had countless opposing counsels tell me that I was barking up the wrong tree. I knew that over half the time, if I heard that, I was right focusing on that tree. If it happened to be the other times, at least one of the branches could still lead to where I was meant to climb.

"Carine," he continued "Look..." 

I interrupted. 

Years of experience had taught me it was important to let your advisary know at the outset you are never afraid to play nasty if they insisted the game progress in that way. And Tennesen's faux congeniality had just determined the rules. 

"Tennessean, I appreciate you stopping by." I said with a smile." I have to admit though, I've had opposing counsels who have been meaner, more intimidating, and down right ruder than you. Family law, as you are so obliviously unaware, is a blood sport. Both the parties and their attorneys play it with vigor." I rose.  

"Helene?”

"Yes?" 

Looking down at at intercom as if she were visibly trapped in it,  "Please compile a list with the full names, firm addresses, and the phone numbers for Mr. Grand, Ms. Mardel, and Mr. Rockford. Mr. Beale will be taking this list with him when he leaves here in a couple of minutes." 

"Yes. I'll have it ready."

I then looked at Tennesen who was grinning in amusement. 

"Tennesen. I'm going to help out here, because I've decided I like you." I said returning the grin. "The list I'm having Helene compile for you is a list of family law attorneys. They're well known for… pardon my french…for being real assholes. I think you need some intimidation and guilt training. Tell each one of them I referred you and why. They"ll treat you real nice." I decided to say in a southern drawl. "Then, come back here when you have a better technique. I don't spar with amateurs." 

Smiling and laughing harder than I thought his lungs could bear, Tennesen looked at me with what I could have sworn was admiration. Finally he managed to say, "I like you too Carine. I under estimated yuh." 

Yes. Helene was right. Slang does make intelligent men sound stupid. 

[misskatstuff-blog]

no.2

This is a story of context of who I am and where I come from, lets start on the day a star was born aka my birthday. My mom was 21, single mom, just trying to figure things out and she claims I cried a lot which is still a thing btw. Anyways she loved me a lot but trying to raise a newborn alone is never easy, so, in step my favourite people my nan and pop. My nan is super saucy and awesome she has a garden, she loves chickens, her catchphrase is “how about some fruit,” when asked whats for desert, her qualifications for becoming a doctor are pretty good because according to her gargling salt water can fix all your problems. My pop is the sweetest man ever, he's quiet and he cares so much about the people around him. He refuses to quit work at 73 years old because he claims “everyone I know who retires always ends up dead or in the hospital,” or “someones got to work so you can spend all their money,” (sorry pop). Either way when I think about how much I love them I start to cry. 

So off I go to live with my nan and pop, which is great because I had a tree house and bunk beds and a German shepherd named duke and all was well except even at a young age I had horrible anxiety. I mention this because even though mental health is growing in recognition its still not discussed enough. Soooooo everyone always thought I was being over dramatic (which I am) but they just kind of thought I was soft, needed tougher skin etc. When I was 8 my pop was at work and my nan had to go to the grocery store she asked if I would be fine alone I thought I would be so she left, 15 minutes went by and thats when the panic started, why wasn't she home yet? maybe something happened? what if she was in an accident and no one remembered to call me? I had to call the grocery store and get them to page her because I needed to make sure she was okay. Events like this continued to happen as I got older, a memorable one was when I watched an episode of coronation street with my pop and it was the first time I had ever seen two men kiss or heard about people being gay, I was so terrified I was going to be gay that every night for a week I had to get my nan to tuck me in and tell me while I cried myself to sleep that even if I were gay she would still love me. It wasn't until after I got to university these feelings of panic became too much, between test anxiety and not even being able to sleep with people because I’d wake up the next day thinking I was pregnant and literally having fits of hysteria where I would punch myself in the stomach did I realize that I really needed help. If that was hard for you to hear, I apologize but I started writing this to share my truths. Don't feel bad for me, I know I’m sharing some personal and dark things but I promise you my life thus far has been far more good than bad. I have medication now that helps and puts me more at ease, sometimes are harder than others but I push through. 

Going back again after living with my grandparents up until grade 2 I came to the notion that little girls should be with there moms so I moved to Edmonton in 2003. It made sense at the time but once I got there it was a complete whirlwind I loved my mom and brother but I was so extremely homesick that there were not many parts of it I enjoyed. So 6 months later I moved back to nl, I called my nan to ask if she would come up and get me in December. It wasn't until recently she told me the conversation her and my pop had about flying up to get me, she said “ray we can't really afford this right now, we won't be able to have much for Christmas,” to which my pop responded “I don’t care, we’ll slap a bow on her head and she’ll be our Christmas.” and I was, I’ve lived with them ever since and they truly are my rocks. 

As for friends I’ve had lots come and go, my childhood and high school friends are mostly memories of the past but thats what happens when you grow up. I wish I could say I was better at friends, I have lots of acquaintances people I talk to every now and then but I’ve never been someone who really has close or best friends. I don't have a friend I talk to everyday or one that I see regularly but there are people I consider in my life to be extremely special to me and who I love very much. I like friends I can be myself around, the ones who think I’m funny and see beyond the facade of who I try to be sometimes, the ones that know what to say when I seem to think the world is crashing in on me, these friends are valuable and people to be treasured. 

I know I have a lot to say but bare with me through this one, okay? My body, I say its mine because for a long time I refused to take ownership of it. Why on earth would I want something that seemed to constantly betray me? My mind was fighting me, my body for reasons still undiagnosed today gains weight at the mere sight of a chocolate bar, sprouts hair from random places, has eczema covering my arms and a hormonal imbalance that likely means I will never naturally conceive a baby, it always seemed to be plotting against me. So how does one love a body like this, a body like mine, thats the question. Well let me tell you some secrets, I try HARD, I put on my makeup, I wear clothes that make me feel pretty, and for one solid year before I’d get dressed in the morning I’d look in the mirror and tell myself I was beautiful even though there were people around me who tried to belittle that beauty by calling me nasty things. I am no master of loving myself I still have insecurities but I tell them to fuck off, this is the only body I’ll ever get (unless I get reincarnated, which please god if you exist let me be a princess) so I have to get along with it. For starters as a kid I didn't even realize that being bigger was an issue, I used to love my tummy cause it was soft and if I squished it all together it would kinda remind me of cake which was awesome, but as I got older and my nan would be in my ear telling me to sit up straight and suck my tummy in I began to realize that maybe in fact there was something wrong with the way I looked.. but now I'm just over it, hating myself or the way I looks takes up too much time, its tiring so I do what makes me feel good.

 so maybe thats it for now, its a lot to process, you’re probably busy, I’m uncertain. However, if you actually took time to read this it means a lot.

Kat