#i know scream isn’t niche i just wanted to draw them fuck off

[nicodwhw]

i can be ur angel (😇) or ur demom (😈)

[starsurface]

Ok so, bit of a niche one…and possibly the first of many 🫣 little/diapered Defenders of the Realm Liu Kang? He’s such a cutie in that cartoon!

KAHBFHAHBSABFABFH, Pookie, your hand in marriage? 💍 (JOKING

No but seriously, I’ve been so excited to write this one!! I love DOTR!!!! :D

And you’re so right, he is a cutie in it!!! He just screams Age Reressor!!! <3

(Some strong languageuse) Before we get to the hcs, I want to say that there is nothing wrong with using or needing diapers. Some people use diapers use them for weird kink related things, but with age regression they are used for comfort and unfortunate inconvenience. Do not come to my blog because you wish to relate this with any kind of kink. Kindly fuck off and leave my blog alone, thank you.

^ This isn’t to bash regressors btw!!! This is me saying to fuck off if your a dd/lg or any type of blog like that. <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Regressor Liu Kang Defenders of the Realm (+ Padding) Hcs

❤️‍🔥 BABY REGRESSOR, and no one can tell me otherwise >:(

❤️‍🔥 Look at him!! Look at how he acts!! How he follows Kitana everywhere!! How she borderline babies him!!! That man just screams it!! (Positively of course <3)

❤️‍🔥 Kitana is his main CG . . . But that does not stop the others on the base from ‘babysitting’ him

❤️‍🔥 He’ll usually run to Kitana when he’s tiny, but that doesn’t stop Jax and Sonya from ‘stealing’ him

❤️‍🔥 They’ll play with a nearby ball or some cool game, which will spark little Liu’s interest (and of course Kitana lets him play, what’s better than some bonding time with Uncle Jax and Auntie Sonya?)

❤️‍🔥 Liu Kang isn’t a very big technology person, but he does enjoy watching cartoons with Nightwolf every so often (also he gets a bunch of cuddles with Kiba, and Nightwolf will let him play with his hair!! :D)

❤️‍🔥 Stryker (I love him, i promise) is the rule enforcer, especially if Raiden isn’t there :(

❤️‍🔥 But Liu Kang’s puppy eyes might persuade his heart (and get Sonya to tease Stryker for having a soft spot)

❤️‍🔥 Subzero is still trying to understand age regression, but sometimes he’ll do super cool ice shows!! Especially if Kitana needs a break for a bit, or Subzero just wants to spend time with little Liu

❤️‍🔥 Raidens the fun grandpa or the other rule encourager . . . But this is Liu Kang, of course he has a soft spot (that soft spot won’t save Liu Kang from cleaning up his wall drawing though)

❤️‍🔥 Little Liu’s not reeeeeally a trouble maker, especially around Kitana . . . Only when Sonya or Jax encourage him to do something naughty does he actually

❤️‍🔥 Don’t worry, Liu Kang doesn’t get in big trouble (most times)

❤️‍🔥 Sometimes he regresses tiny enough that he doesn’t quite understand that it’s not okay to draw on the walls, but Sonya and Jax are doing it too, and they’re smiling, so it must be okay!! :D

❤️‍🔥 (^ it’s also why Stryker lets him off sometimes, especially because the real culprits are a guilty looking Sonya and Jax)

❤️‍🔥 A look of ‘🥺’ in the middle of Stryker’s lecture and now Sonya and Jax are in trouble, and Liu Kang just has to go tell Kitana what he did (which she’s very nice about, referming that it wasn’t okay but she’ll let hm off the hook because he’s very apologetic)

❤️‍🔥 Liu Kang regresses pretty small, and unfortunately has had some accidents

❤️‍🔥 Mostly after missions and nap time, he’s not very happy about them :(

❤️‍🔥 Padding wise, I think Liu Kang would be really upset over it, especially at first

❤️‍🔥 He knows he regresses small, he knows that he’s had a few accidents, and he knows it’s best to wear them

❤️‍🔥 . . . But he still doesn’t like it >:(

❤️‍🔥 Originally it was just a secret between him, Raiden, and Kitana . . . But nothing as base stays a secret for long 😮‍💨

❤️‍🔥 In episode Swords of Ilkan, Sonya and Kitana become closer friends as the only girls, so we can assume that they hang out more after that

❤️‍🔥 And when Kitana forgot to hide the diaper bag in her room and Sonya finds it . . . Secrets out :(

❤️‍🔥 I adore Sonya!! She’s one of my all-time favorites!! But she also has a really bad habit of acting first and thinking later (we see this in the show, and it’s something we see her work on)

❤️‍🔥 Sonya’s kinda a blabber too (seen in that episode where they all bully each other and she finds Jax’s insecurities), and before Kitana can register that Sonya bursts into the main room, secrets already spilt :\

❤️‍🔥 ^ They were all very supportive, and Sonya apologized to both Kitana and Liu Kang tremendously

❤️‍🔥 Little Liu Kang is NOT allowed to drive the space ships (which he’s also so glad for because big him hates flying them too) (“I just don’t want to be the reason we crash!” in episode 1)

❤️‍🔥 Little Liu Kang has a habit of tugging on Kiba’s fur, especially since he’s really tiny and Kiba’s very fluffy

❤️‍🔥 Kiba, luckily, has never nipped nor growled, and Nightwolf usually steps in to correct Liu Kang’s actions

❤️‍🔥 Cuddle monster!! This man wants to be near his Mama at all times!!

❤️‍🔥 Luckily Kitana adores the way he clings to her side, so she’s more than content with him clinging to her <3

❤️‍🔥 Kitana’s very good at helping Liu Kang regress, especially when he’s upset or somethings on his mind

❤️‍🔥 In the first three episodes, we see Kitana take her time with Liu Kang, never exactly pushing him to tell her, but also reminding him that he has her to lean on

❤️‍🔥 ^ I think she’s very similar with getting him to regress, she won’t exactly outright ask, but she’ll call him his favorite little nickname, give him his favorite little snack/drink by ‘accident’, and baby him more than usual, gently pushing him to slip but not outright ‘enforcing’ it or anything (unless he asks)

❤️‍🔥 (^ Guys I actually love them 🥺)

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

No, I’ve been so excited to write this and then i sat down to write it and my mind blanked for three days, it was crazy 😭

[tanoraqui]

There actually are enough good fics about postcanon tentative reforging of assorted pairs and even the whole of the Gusu Summer School No Brain Cell Trio to satisfy my niche itch, so pls enjoy these stray snippets of a fic I don't have to write:

Nothing would've happened if the cultivation conference wasn't at Cloud Recesses. But it was, Cloud Recesses with its pale stone and gracefully winding walkways and too many memories, including Lan Xichen sitting the whole thing out in seclusion somewhere... If it'd been at the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang would've been busy and if it'd been at Carp Tower the memories only would've been manageably bad, and if it was Lotus Pier or one of many smaller sects, it would've been...fine. Just fine.

But it was Cloud Recesses this year, this first conference since Jin Guangyao's downfall, and specifically it was half past ten at night, and Nie Huaisang was wandering the elegant pathways with a mostly full jar of wine in one hand. The previous jar, now entirely empty, had been left back in his room. He was a Nie, so he was only half as drunk as he'd always used to pretend at these things - but at least twice as drunk as he'd ever actually been.

After da-ge's death, of course. Before that, he used to get plenty drunk. Playfully drunk. With friends.

It would be a terrible idea for him to go appear on Lan Xichen's doorstep. Neither of them was ready for that yet.

So he appeared on Jiang Cheng's.

[ . . . ]

"Fine." Nie Huaisang pouted and turned. "I'll go ask Wei-xiong - "

And Jiang Cheng was easy, he was so easy, he'd always been easy, the only new thing is the faintest edge of wariness to his fury -

He grabbed Nie Huaisang's elbow in a flash and snapped, "Ugh, fine, I'll go - but I'm holding the wine."

Nie Huaisang laughed and handed it over. Jiang Cheng immediately took a deep swig.

[ . . . ]

It must've been a quiet night at the Jingshi. Wei Wuxian's sleeping robes didn't look the least bit hastily pulled on, and his lips were only the slightest bit red and puffy.

[ . . . ]

[for the record, this takes place in a book-show postcanon fusion wherein immediately post-Guanyin Temple, WWX and LWJ ran off to fuck in the bushes at least once a day for as long as possible, but in their absence, various sect leaders voted that Lan Wangji should be Chief Cultivator now, and alas some messenger caught up with them about six months into their honeymoon. Definitely caught them in flagrante delicto. Tragic for all. I’d probably communicate all this hereish somehow. It was definitely NHS who finally tipped someone off on how to actually find them.]

[ . . . ]

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Wei Wuxian said, with a lidded look at Nie Huaisang, and Nie Huaisang burst into a giggles because the two most unequivocally lethal people he knew were afraid to leave each other alone with him, and it was satisfying to be recognized but also what's he going to do, personally? Cry at them? It'd taken him years to destroy Jin Guangyao, and at this point it'd take him months, if not years again to re-destroy the Yiling Patriarch, much less Sandu Shengshou. Especially when they both kept doing things like watching each others backs while pretending they weren't.

[ . . . ]

"Of course we need more!" Wei Wuxian declared. "This isn't even Emperor's Smile!"

[ . . . ]

"It's just a rat or something," Jiang Cheng scoffed.

"So?!" Wei Wuxian cried grandly. "Are we not noble cultivators? Is it not our duty to investigate this woman's complaint, and to slay whatever monster plagues her good inn’s wonderful cellar, whether deathly or monstrous or rodential it be?" He turned to Nie Huaisang and begged, "Help me out, Nie-xiong. You agree with me, right?"

Nie Huaisang clutched his cup against his chest, eyes wide, and shook his head in sharp jerks. "I don't know! I don't know!"

Wei Wuxian laughed and elbowed him in the side.

[ . . . ]

[while waiting for Wei Wuxian to send some sort of signal]

"You know I don't bear any grudge against Jin Ling, right?"

Jiang Cheng's impatient glare snapped to him, darkening with threat; his hand shifted on Sandu's hilt toward a drawing position. "What?"

"I don't bear any sort of grudge against Jin Ling," Nie Huaisang repeated, holding only the last jar of Emperor's Smile. "That's why you've been side-eyeing me all night, right? All conference." He took another sip (it really was the best!) and added recklessly, "If I wanted Jin Ling dead and disgraced, or all Carp Tower burned to ash, they already would be."

Sandu slid an inch out of its scabbard and Nie Huaisang watch it with fascinated curiosity. From a greater distance, he wondered if that was entirely healthy.

"What about Lotus Pier?" Jiang Cheng asked abruptly.

It took Nie Huaisang a blinking moment to focus on him.

"What about Lotus Pier?"

Jiang Cheng sat beside him on the cold earth and yanked the jar out of his hands, cruelly before Nie Huaisang could take another sip.

"Where's your grand terrible vengeance against me and mine? I get it, but if you're being honest for once right now, you could at least tell me when it's going to hit, and how."

"What?" Nie Huaisang pushed himself against his tree trunk, genuinely confused. "Why would i have a terrible vengeance planned against you?"

"I benefitted from Nie Mingjue's death, didn't I?" Jiang Cheng took another swig of wine of his own, and swung the jar illustratively. "My disciples have hunted in your territory while you 'weren't paying attention.' I absolutely fleeced you in that trade deal four years ago. And I worked with that bastard as much as anyone but Lan Xichen, especially on those damn watchtowers, and you broke him. So when's it my turn?" He pointed at Nie Huaisang, finger only wavering slightly. “If you fuck with Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, or my sect, I will fuck you back.”

"You- oh, gimme that. Gimme. Gimme!" Nie Huaisang leaned forward and tried to grab the wine jar, and more importantly whined until Jiang Cheng handed it to him.

He stared at it for a moment, thrust it back and ordered, “Drink,” without letting it go, and once Jiang Cheng had dutifully tilted it back, pulled it back and slugged down the last swallows. He needed more alcohol for this much honesty, and so did Jiang Cheng.

He set the jar down very carefully, because the ground seemed to be moving, and leaned forward with even more care. He enunciated clearly, “Everyone fleeced me, and hunted in my territory, and I acsh- ass- let them. Why would I expect you to go looking for trouble with Jin Guangyao, when he had your heart locked in a box in his treasure room?”

Jiang Cheng, who was a respected master of all five arts but probably hadn’t actually read poetry for fun since an instructor had officially declared him as such, and who was himself at least a full wine jar in, squinted in angry confusion.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “He had final say over where and how Jin Ling spent his time, and could’ve tried to poison him against you. What would you have even have done if I had come complaining?”

Jiang Cheng’s face only fell further, with the very sort of drunken moroseness Nie Huaisang was out here to avoid.

Nie Huaisang attempted to swap him sharply. He failed on both the swap and the sharpness. 

“Stoppit! Stop thinking you’re not useful! You weren’t! I needed to pry er-ge away from him and for that only Lan Wangji would work, and I needed someone to watch his back through thick and deadly thin, and to be so disruptive that even Meng Yao couldn’t...circle, sneaky, planning...”

They were waiting for the pulse of a light talisman from the other tunnel entrance, half a mile away. There was a small but very bright explosion. laced with resentful as well as spiritual energy.

“Motherfucker!” Jiang Cheng cursed, leaping to his feet and drawing Sandu in one hideously coordinated motion. 

“Just Lan Wangji, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, because Nie Mingjue himself couldn’t have stopped him. He groped for his own weapons - fan, check; wine jar - 

“Oh no!” 

“What?”  Jiang Cheng snapped, as he bent and dragged Nie Huaisang to his feet with one hand. (Hideously coordinated. Sword people, honestly...)

“He’s going to be so mad that we finished the wine without him!”

[ . . . ]

[three grown-ass men, two sect leaders and one Yiling Patriarch, flying at high speed through Caiyi Town on one sword, all screaming. Nie Huaisang is clinging to Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian is flinging to Jiang Cheng, a little bit to Nie Huaisang, and most importantly to a chicken, Jiang Cheng is flying the sword. There is a bedsheet draped over all of them from where they ran into a laundry line. It’s 2am. Again I say, all are screaming]

[ . . . ]

[it probably wasn’t a rat - not just one, at least. Wei Wuxian does something incredibly clever, possibly including a creative use of that bedsheet; Jiang Cheng singlehandedly defeats something in combat, probably after he and Wei Wuxian shove each other out of the way of blows without either of them acknowledging it. Nie Huaisang shoves them both under cover and then with perfect professionalism tells whoever came to check on the ruckus that they handled the problem exactly as planned with absolutely no involvement of alcohol, and the Chief Cultivator will foot the bill for the unfortunately absolutely necessary property damage. Overall, they did handle the problem, but the local cryptid they were chasing will only have its reputation swelled and its continued existence assumed by all locals. it is possible that they themselves made this cryptid up two decades ago, but idk how heavy-handed we want to be.]

[ . . . ]

Nie Huaisang was leaning heavily on Wei Wuxian by the time they got back to the guest quarters. He could hold his alcohol, he was a goddamn Nie, and frankly he’d had it adrenalined out of him at least twice this evening. But he’d also had rather a lot, and he didn’t have Jiang Cheng’s golden core or Wei Wuxian’s blithe lack of sleep schedule. 

“I missed this,” he admitted, head on Wei Wuxian’s (Mo Xuanyu’s) shoulder while Jiang Cheng opened the door.

Wei Wuxian leaned his head on Nie Huaisang’s. “Me too.”

“You’re both fucking annoying,” Jiang Cheng grouched, which meant, Me too.

Wei Wuxian stripped off Nie Huaisang’s muddy outer robe and tucked him into bed, and Jiang Cheng poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the door, drank it, poured another, scowled at Wei Wuxian for a moment, and set it on the bedside table. Wei Wuxian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, finished with Nie Huaisang and started backing out of the room.

Nie Huaisang sat up more or less abruptly. “Both of you have got to stop that bullshit. I miss my brothers, okay? I’d I had a second chance...” He sagged back down with the plural, and flung an arm over his damp eyes. There was a glimmer in the sky; it’d be morning by Lan standards soon. “I fucking miss them.”

“...Ah,” said Wei Wuxian, who always spoke even when he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said abruptly, and, “Drink your fucking water.” And the door slammed behind him as he walked out.

[...a few lines of dialogue later...]

“Seriously, you can go.” Nie Huaisang flicked a few tired fingers in dismissal.

“Are you sure?” Wei Wuxian added with an audible smirk, “Because if I stay up for another half hour, I can wake Lan Zhan with a morning...big ol’...loving...”

Nie Huaisang finally adjusted his arm to crack one eye up at him.

“People usually cut me off before I get that far,” Wei Wuxian admitted.

[ . . . a bit more dialogue and the end.]

[bigskydreaming]

I’d say the thing about some characters lending themselves better to some stories than others actually can apply to the Batfam as well, and is a sign of how well-developed they actually are. I know I’ve ranted in the past about the tendency to try and fit the Batkids into niches like the smart one and the angry one and all of that, but in terms of story TYPES, I think they do have certain niche-like feels that mean some of them are better suited to certain GENRES of story than others.

For instance....I didn’t love Grayson, but that was more due to the overshadowing circumstances and the fact that I just think King and his writing suck. A lot. But the basic premise was not at all out of Dick’s wheelhouse. He IS well predisposed to kinda globe-trotting, spy versus spy, switching disguises like they’re outfits, making the most out of his ability to make friends everywhere he goes and turn enemies into allies.....those types of stories. Not saying these should be his only stories, by any means, or that he can’t center in all kinds of other types of stories, but I’m just saying, these kinds of stories do have more of a Dick Grayson feel than they do various other Batkids.

Similarly, Jason is better suited to gothic horror types of stories than the others, just in general. His history with the Lazarus Pit, his general disposition, his THEMES, like....they speak to the same kind of aims and tones that gothic horror both births from and embodies.

This might just be me, but to me, Tim is best suited to kinda oddball, off the wall sorta stories, and that’s part of why I’m so meh on him just being shelved into the uber-genius, mini-Bruce, heir to the best detective mantle kinda thing. I’ve spoken before about how much I miss 90s Tim, but to me, Tim was always at his best, and at his best-defined, most feeling like uniquely HIM, when he was playing the underdog. When he was just this well-intentioned kid who plunged into this world that was so much larger than viewing it through his camera lens had prepared him for, but he had spunk and determination and he wasn’t about to back down or let anyone think he was in over his head so he was gonna make it through whatever the superhero life threw at him even if flying by the seat of his pants the whole way. So to that end, I mean, I think Tim is at his best when just dealing with totally WTF kinds of stories. The cross-dimensional capers, the time travel mishaps, the ‘great, I was abducted by aliens on my lunch break and now apparently I have to save planet FUBAR with nothing but my pocket knife and scathing dry wit.’

I would fucking kill for Cass at the center of noir type stories where its like, idk, the Maltese Falcon and she’s the jaded but still optimistic-at-her-core PI when trouble walks into her derelict office wrapped up in an eggplant shawl and the name Stephanie. Maybe its just that I don’t think there’s enough focus on the fact that Cass is SMART and she’s as much a detective as any of the family, does plenty of investigative work and if she’s heir to the cowl she’d be just as good at the mystery side of things as Bruce is, but just......noir stories just FEEL like dappled shadows and eerie shades of blue and black with hints of moonlight spilling through slatted blinds and all of that just screams Cass to me, faint notes of jazz in the background, a wry smile on her lips as she plays her informant like a fiddle when chasing down clues.

Duke is another globe-trotter in feel to me, like his backstory and his family and his stories with the Outsiders, like, I really want to see Duke on more superhero teams than just the Outsiders now that that’s over, because he’s better suited to stories not confined just to Gotham, I think? Like, Duke fits the conspiracy theory chasing niche to me, like, his character really comes to life when pursuing leads all across the world, digging into his past, his family’s past, seeing how it all connects to various mysteries of the DC Earth that are generations old but still affect the present....like I don’t know how many people have read Planetary, but that to me is a PERFECT fit for Duke, and I would love to see him with his own Planetary style team or even just part of one.

Damian is best suited to coming of age stories, which sounds vague, but the thing is, it really is its own genre. So much of Damian’s character, the best parts I think, are about Damian FINDING himself, DEFINING himself......he more than any of the others, debuted so clearly defined by his origins, his parents, who he was CREATED to be.....and so he more than anyone else is perfectly poised to star in stories that are all about him breaking away from that mold, from parental expectations or preplanned destinies, or even just searching for things to define him on his own terms rather than through the eyes of others. Stories that are about choosing your own path, making a self-realization or having an epiphany about who you truly are or what you want to do with your life....that to me, is Damian’s best niche. Again, doesn’t mean that other characters can’t be great in these kinds of stories as well, just that if I’m pairing one character to one genre they lean into best, this is what’s that for Damian, IMO.

Steph is a bit of an oddball for me, and I don’t quite know how to describe this, but she’s best suited IMO to those kinds of stories that like......there’s not really a specific NAME for this type, but you know them when you see them. The best comparison I can think to make is like.....the kinds of stories Harley Quinn stars in? To be clear, I’m not drawing parallels between Steph or Harley or saying they’re the same kind of character at ALL, I’m just saying like.....Harley is another character who overall is very hard to pin down in specific concrete terms, but nevertheless is centered in various stories and adaptations that are nevertheless very clearly HER.....and that’s the kind of thing I picture for Steph. She fits that niche that isn’t really a niche for anyone BUT her, because nobody else can summon that type of feel for it......the kind of story that you can’t switch anybody else in for her because the story only works with her specific kinda....energy. Bleh. I really wish I could describe it better, like its very clear in my brain, but its a story that’s more of a kind of FEEL than it is a specific description? If that makes sense like at all? LOLOL. Whatevs.

And Babs, like, I would love love love to see her centered in a proper cyberthriller. I mean, they’ve done stories kinda like that with her as Oracle, but not to the extent I’m thinking. I mean just full on cyberpunk dialed up to 11. Give me Babs enlisted by the JLA because Brainiac is loose in the internet and she has to go into cyberspace utilizing different avatars of herself and calling in allies as needed as she relentlessly hunts a villain through landscapes of data she maps and molds and turns into traps. Babs hyper-fixating on her task, her hunt, to the degree that she has to be reminded to pull herself out at times and take care of her physical needs, has people grounding her so she doesn’t get lost in cyberspace and the lure of it all, this place that’s her domain and where she shines the brightest. And so it balances that razor edge that makes for the best cyberthrillers IMO. The ones where all the possibilities of the future as embodied in technology and cyberspace are balanced with the necessity of remaining human, of being human and with roots and history embedded outside of it, in the real world. And with there being a clear juxtaposition between the two even as the protagonist goes back and forth between the two extremes of their existence, the physical and the ephemeral.

Anyway. Like I said, you can mix and match and its not like Dick can’t star in gothic horror and Jason can’t do off-the-wall dimensional hijinks or noir detective stories and Tim and Cass can’t do coming of age, etc.....its just in terms of what I was talking about, how some characters lend themselves MORE easily to certain kinds of stories than others.....this is how I perceive the various Batkids.

[katierosefun]

back on my w: two worlds bullshit but also make it star wars and obi-wan and anakin angst, because in typical caroline fashion, i’ve wondered about like. au? au. like, lowkey a canon divergence but also not a canon divergence au, i don’t really know how to describe it, but it’s really fucking meta--

anyways. thoughts under the cut, because i don’t want to burden anyone with ‘caroline what are you talking about why don’t you just write/don’t you have things to do’ shhhHHHHhh at this point i’m just a miserable pile of half-written docs and ideas but let me word-vomit for a second  (but also please do indulge me in this because i need to scream and i lowkey am into this idea but also i have too many things to write but also)

okay, so i’ve already rambled a bit about w: two worlds, but basically, the actual kdrama’s premise is that a young woman accidentally is dragged into the world of the comic/webtoon her father writes--essentially, this young woman saves the comic protagonist’s life, and she keeps accidentally slipping into the world, and it’s just. it’s so fucking meta and so fucking good and so fucking smart, and even though i think this is the kind of story that you.....can’t really mimic just because of how fucking smart and unique it is, it still got me thinking about star wars but make it “w” and uh--

disclaimer: i don’t think i’d ever actually write this because it would be so niche and also so incredibly convoluted, idk man i’m just kinda going off here: 

- so, the events of rots do happen. (note how i said that this is still slight canon-divergence au but also not? yeah, it’s about to get super complicated) 

- and of course, at this point, the galaxy like....no one except like obi-wan and yoda and bail actually know that darth vader is anakin, right? i think that’s what the situation is? 

- anyways, i think that’s where the story picks up: obi-wan’s in the middle-of-nowhere tatooine, and no one knows where/what the fuck happened to anakin skywalker, but we know that anakin skywalker was a pretty well-respected/public figure (because war propagandaaaaa) 

- anyways, thinking about obi-wan kenobi coming into town one day and realizing that people are shadily passing around a data pad to look at hey, this story just updated!!! this story just updated, and obi-wan realizes that there’s a rebelling artist somewhere out in the galaxy making comics about a young man who just so happens to Look Like and Act Like and also is named Anakin Skywalker, except he’s not a jedi, he’s just a regular guy making an honest living in the galaxy (and also on the hunt to avenge his friends’ and his family’s mysterious deaths) 

- i know, really fucking meta at this point 

- things are harmless enough: obi-wan tries to ignore this comic’s existence (if anything, he’s a little insulted by it because how dare you use his face and his name and turn it into...whatever this is), but like. 

- the thing is, grief is a funny thing, and sometimes you start to look for your person everywhere. 

- so obi-wan winds up reading along. he reads, and sometimes he thinks that things are a little too eerie--like, apparently, obi-wan is one of the people who was mysteriously killed / anakin’s mom was mysteriously killed / the dialogue is way too fucking real-- 

- anyways, the comic updates one day: obi-wan sees that the author has somehow decided to basically almost kill off anakin--bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, and obi-wan just watches and it’s painful because this isn’t actually anakin, this is just a comic character-- 

- and that’s when obi-wan gets pulled in. 

- obi-wan kenobi--our obi-wan kenobi--staring at this anakin skywalker-but-not-really-anakin-skywalker, who is bleeding out at his feet-- 

- obi-wan saves anakin’s life because what else is he gonna do, it doesn’t matter if this guy is a comic book character or not--he’s still going to save this person who has his best friend’s face 

- obi-wan gets transported back into his world. he looks down at the comic to find a drawing of himself saving the comic-anakin and promptly freaks tf out because that just happened why did that happen how the fuck did that happen 

- anyways, lots of other things happen. obi-wan now sometimes gets randomly pulled into this comic, and the comic-anakin skywalker is freaking out a little too because he’s like “you look exactly like my best friend, only my best friend was murdered”. and our obi-wan’s just like “yeah. i know the feeling--” 

- meanwhile, somewhere on the other side of the galaxy, imagine darth vader/anakin walking past a bunch of stormtroopers/former clone troopers and discovering this comic (lol this is kinda funny but also kinda not, because vader’s going to be like “find this artist and kill them”) 

- but who is the artist? who is the author? do we know? (we do not. at least, not right away.) 

- but anyways, back to obi-wan and comic-anakin: holy shit, okay, it seems like i’m getting a little invested now oh no, but anyways, in the comic, obi-wan still meets others: he meets a comic-padme (who is Not Married to comic anakin but there’s obviously some flirting there), and he meets a comic-ahsoka and a comic-rex, and it’s utterly painful for obi-wan because. because in this world. in this world, things are kind of okay. 

- comic-anakin still doesn’t know where obi-wan’s come from though--comic-anakin doesn’t know that he’s just a comic character. (which makes for Bad Realizations later.) 

- uh now there are other details i want to work out and an Actual Storyline in the process here in this what started as a joke to now what is turning into a brainstorm, but like-- 

- the actual plot? idk probably something to do with comic-anakin slowly realizing that he is. actually. just some grieving author’s fantasy / darth vader in real-time tracking down obi-wan and whoever tf is writing this comic / obi-wan constantly being yanked into this world against his will. 

- angst? so much angst. 

- just thinking about how our obi-wan decides to help comic-anakin.....comic-anakin being like “who are you?” / obi-wan: “me? i’m someone who wants you to have a happy ending. at least in this life. in this world.” / comic-anakin: ??? 

- kind of a bittersweet ending ngl-- 

- comic-anakin learns the truth: everything, from the fact that he. he is but someone’s imagination, to the fact that obi-wan comes from the Real World and that the Anakin Skywalker of the Real World turns into a villain/is the real killer of everyone he’s ever loved. 

- sad. so sad. 

- but ends with comic-anakin giving our obi-wan one last hug. (”i’m sorry that you never got to save your anakin.” / obi-wan trying really, really, really hard not to cry because a part of him doesn’t want to leave this world. this world where everyone’s safe and alive, but he has to go. in the end, he always has to go.) 

- as obi-wan leaves, comic-anakin smiles at him. (”i’m someone who’s rooting for you to have a happy ending.”) 

- anyways. uh. oh god. 

[ourladylennon]

this is a stress rant and also I absolutely have to get these thoughts out of my head and onto something so that I can understand how I'm feeling. so pardon me.

I have some very mixed feelings about my latest tattoo experience and it has been incredibly, astoundingly stressful. For anyone who was interested in how it went.

and after typing out this whole rant and reading it back my advice is: ALWAYS make sure it is exactly what you want. ALWAYS speak up if you don’t.

I have a specific style, as everyone, but the style of tattoo I have is a bit of a niche that can be hard to find: geometric design with dotwork/pointillism/stippling techniques to create shading rather then standard fill in shading. This shading style is incredibly time consuming and taxing for the artist and I've had a lot of trouble finding people who specialize in this (and within my area).

I started with an artist about 3 years ago, whom was new to me but known to be good. Got my appt set up, he drew me an entire sleeve- it was absolutely gorgeous. Went through two sessions and his work is genuinely amazing. Clean. Precise. Detailed. Unique. I didn't vibe with him too great but it was something I kind of put aside. But without explaining the whole fucking mess that became, just know that our artist-client relationship fell through. This left me with only the beginning of my tattoo. The whole ordeal was really stressful and upsetting so I put down the goal of getting it finished to try and recoup. And I just continually hit roadblocks trying to find artists who are good at dotwork and willing to do it. Often times they live in other cities/states/etc. Obviously this involves meeting a new artist, trying to figure out if it's a good fit, driving out for consultations/redoing all that process- s t r e s s. Now with covid, it's even more difficult because almost every artist I've come across that I've considered has closed books. All of them being out of town which is fine because it would be worth it. It's expected.

But after three years of this go around of trying to find someone, I was getting really put out by the process and just wanting to get this thing going. (Mistake #1- or #2 technically cause fucking up w the first artist is where it all started and I do regret it to this day).

A new shop opened IN my town- a miracle!!! I started following an artist whose work I found to be particularly amazing. Clean lines, clean shading, artistic seeming. Didn't see any pointillism, but I just like kept seeing her work and thinking damn that's good. So I decided to reach out and told her this is what I'm looking for, a dotwork sleeve and here are some examples of the style I like. I specifically mentioned this and asked if they'd be interested in working on it because I know that dotwork is not everyone's thing. The artist replied and said they've been wanting to get into and would like to do that (we'll call this mistake #3. Do not assume the artist, even if very good at other things will be good at all things. Do not go to an artist wanting a specific style without having seen their work for THAT style).

At this point I sent over pictures of my current tattoo that we'd be adding onto for reference. In my mind this is what I thought would mean: "I am looking at what you have to see how to incorporate it into a new sleeve design and see how I can create a collaborative piece and mesh the two together." (Mistake #4: that was not the case. Do not assume. Anything. Ever.)

The appt date was relatively quick despite the fact that I figured she'd be booked out for quite some time (red flag #1: not because she wasn't busy. But because this was not a whole lot of time to come up with a design but I figured "Well she knows her capabilities better than I do and she wouldn't suggest it that soon if she weren't sure). In my previous experiences, the artist will send you a proof or have a separate appt to review the design. I never received an email with said design (red flag #2, in my personal opinion. But I thought I was just being...extra? Also just thought, okay I'll see it at the appt and it will be OK, right? <- mistake #5).

I show up, there is no sleeve design. (RED FLAG #3) There are two single mandala tattoos. Outlines only. No shading. I'd also like to say my style is much more geometric fractals than it is mandala. A lot of people find these interchangeable but...they're really much different. (RED. FLAG. #4). I genuinely did not see that coming. Maybe I'm wrong to say, but this was negligent in my opinion and experience. A sleeve design ensures that your finished piece flows, that it works together, you can see the whole picture, modify, etc. Especially with it being an addition to my existing work. Cannot stress how much of a red flag.

I'm wigging out at this point. I don't love them but I want this tattoo. I'm going back and forth thinking, "maybe it's just because the shading isn't filled in I can't picture it." (MISTAKE #6: trust your gut!!!). I tell her OK well I like this about this one and that about that one. She only nods and listens, where I was expecting feedback; perhaps an "OK well we can draw it on" or "I can rework it" etc. She didn't and I am too paralyzed to speak up. (Red flag #4)

Mistake #7: I accept it at this point. I pick between the two. She has to go resize it. I'm having a literal internal freak out and battle. I am someone who DOES NOT know how to speak up for themselves. In any way. EVER. For any reason. At any time. I am a fear based individual, in fact, I am nearly certain I have APD (avoidant personality disorder) and it effects me severely and deeply. To the point that simply speaking to someone can be hard for me.

But my brain was screaming you cannot do this! You aren't sure! This is for life! It's your body!! You HAVE to say something! (RED fucking alert)

She came back with the one design resized and my heart is thumping, my chest is constricting, the throat feels like it's closing. I make myself say it. I tell her I don't think this is what I'm looking for. I literally almost busted into tears trying to say it because I was so fucking terrified and overwhelmed. I've never been in a position where I genuinely wasn't sure whether I liked what I was looking at. She says you don't need to be sorry you should speak up this is your body. So immediately, I lost a lot of tension because of her kindness. I thought she would be angry or rude or upset, just because I'm fearful. She proceeded to kind of go in and shade in with a pencil on the stencil to give me a better idea and apologized that she should have had that prepared. I continue asking questions to assuage my concerns and feel....better....ish. she offers to redraw and reschedule but I went against my gut, gave into my desperacy to continue my sleeve, dismissed my feelings as being just my typical overexertion of fear and did something I NEVER do: turn my back on my instincts. (Mistake. Mistake #8)

She was pleasant and I genuinely enjoyed her, felt comfortable with her which is not something I can say about previous artists and that's a good chunk of why I decided to continue. I liked her, I liked her other work I've seen, I just thought that once the stippling was in that I'd see it was really nice. However, I am laying there and I'm like I do not feel poking, which is literally how dotwork is done. Dot by dot. I'd feel her do the tiniest bit of dot-dot-dot and I'm like OK OK I'm just not paying full attention and missing it. But then I'd hear and feel her shading- standard shading. I'm like why is she using a shading tip? I'm just confused honestly. I'm like I have no idea what the could be for, just assume it's necessary for something I didn't realize. But I can see because I'm laying and my arms at a weird angle.

I finally get a peek while she's pausing and its....not dotwork. It's not dotwork at all, in fact. It's too late at this point in my eyes. It was only partially done but what am I gonna do? Stop her in the middle and have an unfinished tattoo? And then what? (Try to) go to someone else to have them do dotwork and have a half unmatching tattoo? There was nothing I could do. So I resigned and accepted this as the consequences of my actions and ill choices. And that's honestly been the hardest part to deal with: I let this happen to myself because I could not speak up. The only person who could have stopped this was ME. And I could not do it. That's how deeply my issues of fear run. And that is terrifying, pathetic, sad.

I'm not saying I got the world's ugliest tattoo. It's okay. Just okay. In the words of RuPaul, meh. I don't want meh. I want astounding. And I didn't do what I needed to to make that happen or not happen.

I just have been in awe over the fact that I asked for dotwork and the artist expressed no concern over this, literally had my existing tattoo right above where they were working and continued to not emulate that style of shading at all. Most of this is my fault, 90% of it. But there was negligence on the artists side and I genuinely don't think they meant it to be. I just don't think they had enough experience, but they too should have spoke up if they didn't feel they could carry it out. They gave me no inclination that they could not or would not be doing dotwork. At any point. And I do feel upset that I don't think they put in the effort or care to work off my existing tattoo in their design, and in looking back, their design also does not look nearly anything like the designs I gave for example. It was my job to walk away and request a redesign or to cancel and I didn't. So in the end this is on me. And it has been very taxing on my mental state.

To end this shit show: the tattoo I just got costed half of what my first one did, while only having taking the fraction of time as my first and being less then half the size of my first. It is not nearly as clean, it certainly reflects their level of experience. The shop environment was not fantastic: it felt a bit like as if I had walked into a chain restaurant...but a tattoo shop. There were no private rooms, there were no tattoo chairs. They were literal stools and that's not...not professional or normal. And I chose to continue.

I'm faced with some really tough decisions moving forward. I am at least thankful it is relatively small ish and wraps towards my inner arm which makes it less visible. But I'm at a crossroads of whether I go through the whole mess of trying to find a FOURTH artist to try and finish my sleeve the way it was meant to be finished (dotwork, whole sleeve design etc) and make the best of it at the risk of having a fucking patchwork arm. Or I continue to work with this artist and see the design through myself (literally design it myself which I didn't want to do but it doesn't appear that I should leave this to them), so that at least the remainder of my arm is consistent shading and work.

And because I've made it sound like the tattoo is atrocious, be assured it's not trash by any means. It's just not what I wanted. Big sis learned a big lesson.

(the immediate center is bothering me the most. But I think it can be altered. Nonetheless. The skill/experience level shows, unfortunately. And you can certainly see the difference between the stipple shading on my first tattoo and the regular shading on the new one.)

I am trying to be positive and that's all I can do. I accept the results and I think it can be fixed to a certain extent, and I can only hope as I move forward that I make the right decision and that the end product is something I enjoy.

[lesbian-kyoru]

What do you think is each character's favorite subject in school?

tohru: not a surprise but baby girl loves home ec!! kind of has to work her butt off studying for her other classes, so she gets to enjoy herself and do something she’s naturally super good at in home ec. loves making little snacks in class for her friends and then sharing them at lunch. the sewing unit takes her fashion game to the next level. when they do a project where they take care of fake babies, she definitely ends up caring for half of the class’s infants like they’re her own. kyo is her partner and everyone teases them about it but she still has a really nice time and thinks kyo would be a great dad :’)) highest home ec grade of all time in their school

kyo: says his favorite is PE but it’s actually math. gets a 5 on the AP calc exam. tells no one but tohru, who then tells everyone and kazuma throws a party and kyo is Not Pleased. isn’t a great math tutor though because he can’t really explain how he gets his answers—he just Knows. checks tohru’s homework for her before she turns it in (read: fixes all her wrong answers when she’s not looking so he can see her huge smile when she gets a good grade back. only feels a little bit guilty). watches math tedtalks. nerd disguised as a jock

yuki: favorite subject is lit!! bullshits his way through class discussions and papers without ever actually reading the books because he’s smart and charismatic. has a premium account on sparknotes. favorite class specifically was one on ancient greek literature and epic poetry—spent the entirety of the class critiquing heteronormative readings of the iliad and taking the piss out of other students because “achilles and patroclus are clearly gay if you have eyes”

kakeru: …...i’ll be real he doesn’t like school lmao. senioritis personified. on his phone during classes constantly. laptop open playing world of warcraft or candy crush or neopets. could not tell you anything the teacher said in the last hour. doesn’t take notes because “i’ve got it all up here yun-yun…..” but doesn’t actually do half-bad on tests. only reason he does homework is because he can pretend to study with yuki while actually just flirting with him. if there’s one subject he doesn’t hate it’s history because he “thinks the fight scenes are fun” (yuki: “you mean world war 1??” “yeah it was exciting”)

uo: autoshop. hates the stereotype that just because she’s a lesbian she must like tools and machinery and automotive tech.....having said that she is a lesbian and she does like tools and machinery and automotive tech. gets a 100 on her project where she fixes a busted up motorcycle, and now she has two motorcycles. all the boys in the class call her senpai and worship the ground she walks on. smells faintly like motor oil all the time but she Absolutely makes it work

hana: creative writing. school is not her thing but she thrives in creative writing because her creativity is 100/10 and her stories are absolutely off the walls. excels in writing spooky yet also homoerotic ghost stories in particular. reads them aloud in class with the lights turned off and a flashlight illuminating her face. has made students cry out of fear. shigure beta-reads her writing. likes to subtly imply that her stories actually happened to fuck with kyo. it works

momiji: band/orchestra!! all the older students lose their minds over how well he can play. first chair violinist from day one. has a solo in every concert; tohru sits front row and films them, always cries. he’s the life of the party at Band Camp(™). even the grumpy bass clarinetists like him. doesn’t get in trouble when he talks waaaaay too much during rehearsal because the teacher loves him

haru: mr space cadet himself isn’t much of a science guy but LOVES astronomy. gets Ds on pretty much every test but he doesn’t care because his mind is expanding. buys a super nice telescope so he can look at constellations at 3 in the morning. develops very specific opinions about each planet. stans the moon. gets really into sleeping at last’s astronomy-themed album. becomes that guy whose personality is “i like space” until the class is over and then he never talks about it again

rin: art! she takes several art classes throughout high school. really loves drawing and painting, but also really likes doing ceramics projects because she likes working with her hands :’)) does a watercolor portrait for tohru as a graduation gift but gets really flustered when tohru sobs into her arms over how beautiful it is. also secretly likes doing little doodles of her and haru—he sees them once in her sketchbook and will never let her live it down

kagura: says her favorite is PE and it actually is PE. goes ham for capture the flag, tends to play too rough when capturing and gets taken out of the game. only person who is actually good at volleyball so she is constantly spiking, setting, and diving for the ball all in the same game, while the rest of her team just kind of fumbles around and tries to stay out of her way. gets first place every time they run the mile even though it’s definitely not a competition. definitely knows her mile time even though it is not a timed activity

hiro: this kid screams history nerd, but like Male History Nerd with a niche interest in military history and very specific opinions about how *insert historical figure* wasn’t actually all that bad. gets his ass handed to him in class discussions on the daily but won’t admit it. is genuinely really smart and has Better Opinions by the time he graduates, so he starts using his history nerd powers For Good as an adult—as in, arguing about inaccurate historical memes on facebook in his free time

kisa: choir. singing stresses her out, but she’s figured out that she can just mouth the words and no one can tell that she’s not actually singing! loves being in the group and hearing the beautiful music around her :’)) everyone is in awe of how cute she is in her lil choir robe. tohru comes to all of kisa’s concerts as well and films them from the front row, also while crying

machi: woodshop. gets sawdust on her clothes and loves the smell. obsessed with digging through piles of splintering and warped scrap wood. loses her damn mind when she gets to use the jigsaw. really enjoys making like…misshapen birdhouses and crooked tables, but woodshop is mostly participation grades anyway so her teacher gives her A’s on all of her grotesque wood creations. she is at peace and is One with the Wood. doesn’t wear safety goggles while chopping wood because she likes Risk

kimi: loves speech & drama. emphasis on the drama. it’s a chance to talk for a long time and everyone has to look at her and listen to her or else they’ll fail!! which is how she likes it. goes three minutes over for every speech but the teacher can’t get her to pause long enough to stop her. comes to auditions in a full professionally-made costume. knows her lines and everyone else’s

nao: AP statistics on the pre-accounting track. has known he wants to be an accountant since he was in diapers. does slightly below average in the class. still studies accounting in college because it’s too big a part of his personality to quit at this point. becomes an accountant. never quite feels fulfilled

[rametarin]

And further thoughts about the yaoi paddles.

If you’re under 20, and just now learning that fandom seniors in their late 20s, 30s, 40s, even low 50s, used to run around slapping eachother on the ass with yaoi paddles in anime and comic conventions after anime became a household media staple, you probably have.. questions.

You’re probably thinking, “Wow!! It was really lawless and anarchistic back then, wasn’t it! They never heard about personal space or sexual harassment laws! SOCIETY must have been SO different, back then!”

NO. I cannot stress enough, the Yaoi Paddle phenomenon was borne PURELY because the demographic MOST LIKELY to protest and be wet blankets about everything fun and sexual and admittedly VERY SKETCHY sometimes in fiction, and ALWAYS bad in reality.. turned off and said virtually nothing. Wokesters that’d protest about the environment and sexual assault against women would take off their Problem Glasses by night and act like paddling was harmless, contextually acceptable behavior.

Yaoi Paddle shit appeared because something absolutely magical happened in scifi and fantasy fandoms. It survived purely because boys didn’t complain, or their complaints were not taken seriously. I promise you, I assure you, if you grew up in the late 80s, your night time TV was INUNDATED with heavy handed messages about how sexual harassment (always male-on-woman flavored) was wrong, even proxy or indirect violence to women (tossing rubber gloves in their lap) was wrong, and to never, ever, ever do that thing or they’d rub your nose in it and consider you mentally diseased until the day you died.

Fandom was always niche, with sci-fi and fantasy stuff being off in its own little corner. Conventions, before the internet was king, was one of few places where more rural, disparate suburban and city-definition isolated geeks, nerds and dreamers could get together and just cut loose. Comic books, novels, video games. All that GOOD shit. But if you knew a girl in the 80s and 90s, you knew a girl that knew a girl that was getting them to be less tolerant and “more conscious and aware” (80s and 90s parlance for Woke) and when that happened, a new persona was created. A new bunch of dialogue options, created.

Suddenly they didn’t say stuff like, “Ew. Why is this character dressed like a SLUT? Typical male writers. Like we’d ever draw ourselves in this or put ourselves in this.” Because that’d be a personal, subjective opinion. Instead, the option to say, “It’s endemic in our western culture that male chauvinist authors and writers in a patriarchal system exploit femininity in media and reproduce misogynistic culture.”

And so assured this was true by mob mentality AND the idea that learned, educated, acredited and tenured academics had this opinion, they were scientists, and so they were right, permeated. Suddenly girl-fans had outlets to have justified apprehension for everything they saw and didn’t like or, if they actually liked it, STILL interpreted it through their lenses to be on, “the right side of history.”

It made fandom miserable and a sausage fest for a while, if only out of fear of driving away female friends. You couldn’t share that shit unless you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that your female peers and friends wouldn’t disregard you like a “typical misogynistic western male” for enjoying that stuff.

Sentiments and peer pressure thoughts emerged. Like, “The comic industry is hostile and cruel to women that try and enter it, and they exploit the image of women for cheap dollars.” So they simply weren’t interested in comics- mostly- unless the comics were written by women and sold with that virtue in mind. In which case, you had boys glowingly mentioning just how much they liked this authentically written adventure by this female comic author. Isn’t that just so special? Not like those horrid anti-woman cigar smoking old man stories, right?

There was always something to nag and get vitriolic about with the media. That’s part of why the Whedon brand of feminist writing got so popular in the 90s. it was low hanging fruit of peppy “sassy” girl characters doing girly things. They weren’t like “other” girls written in comics and cartoons. They were actually girly. Not idealized infantalized children, like those horrible white men write, you know.

Well. Things were looking really bleak for the forseeable future. Lots of boys just felt like comics and cartoons were lost to girls that weren’t specifically into them, and that meant more sausage fest conventions or hobbies, and signing off hope on those things being respected and accepted on the merits of what they are and were. The girls had embraced serials-filed-off radfem rhetoric and lenses, sometimes without even knowing the origins of where those truisms like the Male Gaze even came from, just assuming it was true and indisputable. And it complimented their insecurities, so they’d embrace that shit until they couldn’t anymore.

And then.. something absolutely miraculous and amazing happened that blindsided this whole vitriolic culture.

Anime.

And amazingly, every complaint that a lot of nerdy girls had about the very much sanitized, policed and made PG writing and characterization of characters in western comics and cartoons, just... fucking up and vanished. Seemingly within a fucking YEAR, the entire social culture of Problem Finders, finding everything wrong about these stories, the characters, the writer and the company that produced them being misogynistic male chauvinism, dried up. Those voices quieted, or were shut out of the groups.

Media from Japan was some of the most infantilizing, sexist, tittelating shit compared to mainstream American comics and cartoons and video games, and girls fluttered to it like flies to shit. We had Buffy basically subverting boogymen that a bunch of girls had been taught were still relevant after the 1950s by fighting crime in melee combat with men, and winning, while wearing jogging pants and cracking sassy, like Lola Bunny being a “tough girl.”

Japan had doe eyed, waif bodied ballet dancers that basically farted iridescent glitter, hearts and all the symbols and shapes of the Lucky Charms, riding unicorns and fighting evil in cute outfits. Being childish and not at all mature or professional to show how womanly and competent they were, basically being overgrown 11 year old girls fresh off the playground swing set.

And the fangirls loved it. Those nagging voices that would speak up and remind them about misogynistic, male chauvinistic “societies” and culture? Just.. they fucking VANISHED from the mind for AN ENTIRE GENERATION. I’m not exaggerating. Tolerance and fun and innocence was back again. The problem-glasses felt too ostracized and alienated, or didn’t even want to wear them anymore for personal reasons, and the Radfem Baby Wokes just seemed to grow out of that collective hysteria and pretend it never happened and never existed.

That’s why the very EXISTENCE of Yaoi Paddles at conventions was just so fucking bizarre to those of us that lived up to that point. After, “Stay in your own personal space, boy. DON’T even TOUCH a GIRL unless she VERBALLY AND PUBLICLY CONSENTS or it’s proof you’re just living up to this misogynistic, objectifying society’s evil history!” was drilled into us, day on the playground by day on the playground, by women with axes to grind and good-boy sycophants performing sharing those sentiments for brownie points, it was so fucking surreal to IMAGINE girls just running around sexually assaulting and physically assaulting random strangers because they thought they looked like cute, gay men.

It wasn’t that they didn’t know any better beforehand, it’s that they COMPLETELY put those sentiments away and up and decided, as girls, it was okay to violate male autonomy because they weren’t women, and “it’s okay to paddle a yaoi boy ^.^!” With NO self-awareness whatsoever.

The very fact it existed is testament to how attention starved boys were for girls approving gaze and playful interaction, that they’d tolerate some pocky fingered little cow stranger smacking them on the ass with a plank of wood because it was a socially acceptable way to just interact with girls in their lonely assed fandom and interest. It was an acceptable way to meet girls and positively interact. That’s the degrading bullshit boys said virtually nothing about at the hayday of yaoi paddles, purely to be welcoming to girls in anime and hentai approving spaces.

WE GREW UP hearing and watching horror stories and boogymen stories about true crime and sitcoms and crime shows about evil evil men violating the personal space of women for lewd and lecherous reasons. We had it drilled into our heads that the tolerance for boys and men doing that was negatives, and the general sentiment was men caught doing that (to women, or children of any sex) were effectively free game for any violence you personally felt like unloading on them, confident that in such outraged rape and sexual assault hating times, juries would excuse that passion as a defense.

So if you look back on the era of Yaoi Paddles and think. “WOW. That must be like driving cars before they invented seat belts and cough medicine before they invented the drug safety and scheduling legal system!”.. NO.

It was not like the 50s-70s, where many of the rules hadn’t been written yet so it was anarchy and chaos. Yaoi Paddles existed almost PURELY because girls HAD no rules if they didn’t want to respect them. The Yaoi Paddle phenomenon flew in direct opposition to how interactions were supposed to go, and ABSOLUTELY NO ONE would tolerate the reverse; no cis straight man could walk around randomly smacking women on the ass with a plank of even foam in pantomime, or ‘floating hand’ pretending to be a perverted character. The double standard was GLARING. The Double Standard was a fucking bugbear that had grown from a tiny screaming goblin and was now hanging upside down from the ceiling, roaring.

But because it was GIRLS inflicting it on BOYS, absolutely no party cared enough to raise a stink about it. The Radfems kept their mouths shut, because boys were the recipients. The Radfem Sympathizers really wanted to spank boys, so suddenly they couldn’t find their problem glasses and instead put on their neko ears. The boys were either stoic and amused by it or really wanted to be seen as cool and not buzzkills, so they tolerated to reveled in it.

Many times when you hear about things that happened either when you were a child just too young to really personally experience a thing, or before you were born, we’re quick to assume it’s a medieval place and the people were so uncultured as to have never pondered the social problems of spanking one another on the ass unprovoked. Violation of personal space, personal sovereignty- all that. That was NOT okay at the time. It happened because fujoshi decided it was okay and nobody argued with them to not do hat, or they were told to stop and did it anyway.

And as I’ve laid it out, that is the most bizarre and surreal element to the whole thing. They DID know better, but felt it didn’t apply to THEM because they were girls, and a girl slapping a boy on the ass “as a joke” didn’t mean anything- because it wasn’t happening TO them, FROM a man.

And irony of ironies, it was NEVER okay, EVER, throughout that entire era, for the reverse to be a thing. It was very specifically and exclusively not. As a man if you ran around slapping cute looking girls with the Yuri Paddle, you goin’ to either juvy hall, or prison, boi. Both sexes knew it. And yet, yaoi paddles STILL became a thing.

[iphoenixrising]

Hey Babe! What about Tim doing a strip tease and or lab dance for Jason and Dick? Love your writings 😘

Well, babe.

I mean, why not? Very nsfw ahead.

“I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate this,” Tim is saying as he bends over to stretch, thighs and calves tight with it.

It’s a fucking beautiful to be honest, but take into effect Timmy is wearing a cut-off tank, just barely covering his nipples, teamed with pair of killer black stilettos, thigh-highs with red bows, and a mouth-watering black thong while he stretches with perfect balance, pulling one leg up in the air behind him. He’s got black, lacey gloves on both hands, those fingers sliding up from the stretch at the back of his covered thigh and up almost to the delicious swell of his pale ass in those panties.

Jay just happens ta lookit over at Dickie, see how focused those baby blues on their very fine-as-fuck boyfriend.

it don’t help much that he’s already getting antsy and they ain’t even started yet.

“You know we’ll do whatever we can to help you with a case, Timmy.” Dick is saying, just running his yap, trying not ta shift his hips at the sight.

“That’s really great of you guys,” and Timmy’s beaming over at them when he stands up, drops the hoodie he’s wearin’ ta just leave ‘im in that fuckin’ tease of a shirt and hits something on his phone. The bluetooth speaker sparks to life with a little Pony from Genuwine while he stands in front of them on those stilts like he was born for it.

The red painted on his mouth and the smoky eye give him just the right look when he slinks up to Jay first, fluttering eyes and rolling hips on those ankle-breakers right in rhythm, licking his upper lip like a cat about to have a lil’ cream.

Vaguely, while his cock starts to pay the fuck attention behind his zipper, Jay can hear a low noise come outta Dickie what mean he’s invested, and the second Robin can’t help but lean up, lean in to their pretty third comin’ ta him just like this.

Neither Dick or Jay could have imagined the help Tim had asked for when he called from the Tower a few nights ago.

“I’m doing some…research for a case. I need to go undercover, but I need to  make sure I’ve gotten the…character right.”

They expected a persona, another Caroline or Alvin, maybe someone more high-class, maybe someone closer to the mob side than the gangbanger.

They did not expect Tim to answer the door in a heels and thigh-highs, lips deep red to set off his eyes and pale skin. His scars flawlessly covered, so it was smooth, unblemished skin and the older vigilantes are immediately on this train, Timmy.

(”Show us whatcha got, baby.”

“One rule. You can’t touch.”)

Jay sucks in a breath when Tim drops to his knees and crawls the rest of the way to him, and it’s so much sexy writhing across the floor, he might just go a little stupid watching that ass. In perfect rhythm, Tim pauses to let his hips and ass work against the floor, popping on the down thrusts,  shoving his ass back up like he’s takin’ and givin’ at the same time.

(Jay’s mouth literally waters thinking about it.)

A few sweet twerks, that jelly rolling while Timmy’s biting down on his lower lip, little nipples visible when the shirt hangs low enough. The creak of a chair is drowned out by the music, and Dick’s mouth fall open to pant.

A smile cuts across Jay’s face, and he kicks his leg open in welcome, already seeing what their boy is gettin’ inta.

Timmy takes him up on the offer (thank fuck) and moves, slides gloved hands up his thighs, slinking between them, hips a gentle sway to the music. And those hands work further up, lightly passing over the obvious bulge until he’s pressing his chest right there, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips.

It’s seamless when he works himself up to roll to his feet and turn on those heels, to rest his ass right in Jay’s fucking lap and writhe between those thick thighs. His hands fall back to the arm rests beside Jay’s so he can lean back, lay in the niche of Jay’s body, breathe over his jugular, roll against his trapped erection with tight little circles.

Jay groans into it all, has to clench his hands down on the arm rests tight to keep from touching. He can’t help but flex his thighs just a little, just enough to give them both a tease.

“Fuck, baby,” Jay fairly groans, wanting desperately to grip those hips, to pull down that naughty lil’ scrap a nothin’ and throw their boyfriend over the nearest flat surface n’ make ‘im scream. “Ya better not be thinkin’ a doing this with nobody but me n’ Big Wing, you feel me here?”

Tim responds by throwing a leg over so he can ride Jay’s thick thigh, leaning up to arch his back and start a smooth rhythm, rolling his hips, popping his ass, while looking over his shoulder with those dark eyes.

“Mmhm. I’m tracking some new drugs hitting the streets lately, and wouldn’t you know it, the place on North and 15th has been getting a lot of suspicious packages recently.” Without losing the beat, Tim leans himself back against Jay’s chest again, his legs so much longer with the killer heels, setting on either side of his thighs so Tim can work his ass right over the stiff erection, a sensual mock-fuck using the power in his calves, thighs, and hips.

Jay throws his head back and groans, his thighs getting taunt with tension, manages to turn his head and cast a tortured look at Dick, eyes half-mast with how good Baby Bird is at this.

Dick is biting down on his lower lip, watching the two of them, watching Tim pant with that red mouth, eyes bright with the liner and smoky tones, watching him undulate so beautifully, watches his cock get stiff in those tiny panties, barely anything hiding him from their eyes.

“I can honestly say,” he manages in response to Jay’s pupils dilating, those hands shifting on the arm rests, all of it telling Dick how close his other boyfriend is to breaking his leash, “you’ve really done your homework this time, Timmy.”

“‘Greed,” Jay grinds out, “real fucking effective, Baby. Gonna show ya how much, yeah?”

And the ends of Pony die down while Tim is laying on the floor by the silver pole he’d been planning on showing them next, but he’s too busy with his mouth full of Jay’s cock, red lips stretched around the girth, gloves hands moving up and down Jay’s thighs while he thrusts over and over and over.

He chokes slightly when Dick finally slides his fingers out and replaces them with what they both really needed in the first place.

Dick takes a long second to breathe and make sure he isn’t going to come too soon, hands tightening down on Tim’s thighs hard enough to probably bruise. He sighs out deeply, changing his grip when he starts to move slow, so slow, trying to drag out every second he can have Tim and Jay just like this.

“Ya know,” is a deep purr from Jay, the flecks of green in his eyes a darker jade while he cradles Tim’s neck and fucks his perfect mouth, “this place on North. Wonderin’ if they’re lookin’ f’ some muscle, you feel me, Big Wing?”

And the grin Dick gives him in reply is white in the night, Tim’s protests muffled with the cock in his throat. “I’ve had dancing experience. I could be with you on stage, Timmy. I bet we’d make better tips.”

“Fuck, two a’ ya t’gether? Tryin’ ta kill me, Dickie–”

“It would be so hot and you know it.”

“Didn’t say it wouldn’t, Baby Boy. But cha gotta understand what I’mma do if some ass clown lookits my boys the wrong way–”

“Mm! Mmm!” But even if he��s trying to protest his boyfriends stepping in on his case, he still pulls at the cheek of Jay’s ass to get more, to go deeper, hollowing his cheeks when he can.

Dick starts moving in longer thrusts, drawing almost all the way out of him before pushing hard and fast back in, making Tim’s cock leak through his panties with each hit to his spot.

“Looks like Baby Bird’s s’all right with the plan,” Jay teases on a moan, “but this show? S’just gonna be all for us, ain’t it?”

Dick pants out a whine, starting to feel the tingling low in his balls that’s getting harder to ignore with Tim wrapped tight and wet around him, with his thighs in the mesh stockings trembling under Dick’s hands.

“No one gets this. Just us. They can look all they want, but no one touches, do you understand, Timmy?”

And to make the point, they older vigilantes speed up, a bare hand sliding into his panties to fist him at the base and work him in time with their thrusts.

Tim’s throat tightens, the noises there when he gets stroked right nice.

“S’right. Gonna have ta fuck ya but good every time ya come off stage. Make sure ya remember who ya belong ta.”

“This is going to be the best case ever,” Dick grunts out, punctuating each word with a thrust back in.

Jay grunts, in agreement looking down into those half-mast eyes while Tim jerks in time with Dick’s fucking, throat working around Jay’s cock, making noises right at the tip. Their boy is past the point of fighting them, and that’s exactly what Jay likes to see.

When their boy tightens down, eyes fluttering, body arching, splattering those pretty panties wet, Dick makes a last lunge, crying out when he comes deep, and Jay falls over on his hand, filling his boy’s throat with stuttering hips, gripping the back of Tim’s neck while he does it.

And it’s all kinds of telling when they gather their fucked-out bird in a mess of limp limbs and stained satin. He’s laid out, boneless, the heels taken off with gentle hands, his instep rubbed, and the tights worked down his thighs. He doesn’t have to move an inch to help, can just watch out of hazy eyes whether it’s Dick or Jay getting him up and in the shower, fumbling hands and wet kisses, and the details come out while he’s soaping Jay’s broad back and Jay with both hands in Dick’s hair.

And if he’s smirking a little in some sweet satisfaction as the possessiveness there, chiming in when necessary when his boyfriends make a plan–

well, they wouldn’t see it anyway.

[deehollowaywrites]

It’s something of a pilgrimage, watching racing.

The facts are these: I live in a metropolitan area that is home to a Thoroughbred track. This track is 40 minutes and about 18 miles from my apartment. Suffice to say, at times when Tampa Bay Downs is not hosting live racing, I resort to the redoubtable practice of Twitter-watching major races. However… this weekend was the Breeders’ Cup. And despite being an utter fucking hermit, I wanted to engage in one of our most prized American pastimes: publicly enjoying sports. See, it’s easy to be a sports fan in public in this great, accommodating nation. Any sports bar and most other bars will have at least one TV screen playing a major sport at all times. There’s gear aplenty, jerseys and shirseys, hats, jackets, and numerous other ways to adorn yourself in the college or professional team of your choice.

Then there’s Thoroughbreds.

You will not find a mock-up of the Juddmonte silks in Target--at least not in a Tampa Target. Maybe in Lexington’s. Anyway, I wasn’t betting on Arrogate (and wasn’t that wise of me? Actually it would’ve been a draw. I guess we can say, categorically, that my preferred pony is at least as good as Arrogate on an off day). I haven’t been at this long enough to have accrued a collection of track gear. There’s a Tampa Bay Downs sticker on my laptop, but that’s about it. The idea of ordering something from the Breeders’ Cup online store without actually… you know… going seems like a poseur move, and I already have enough impostor syndrome to staff an entire lit magazine. So I pinned a horse brooch onto my collar and went out to do battle.

My city houses many fine establishments with liquor licenses and humane hours (that is, open ‘til 3AM); it was merely a question of selecting one in the center of my Venn diagram: close to home, multiple TV screens, and low likelihood of stranger danger.* Finally I decided on the Bricks. I could get there nice and early, around 4PM EST for the beginning coverage, and live at the bar until they called the Distaff by 8. Asking them to keep NBC on one of the screens once Todd Pletcher’s facial hair showed up would certainly not be the weirdest thing an Ybor bartender had ever heard.

(Todd Pletcher’s facial hair did not make an appearance, as you probably know. However: yay for Destin, one of my legion of gray babes!)

Is that a horse? asked a gentleman of true insight sitting to my left as the camera zoomed in on Sharp Azteca looking fine in the paddock. That, I replied, is a topic of conversation.

He wasn’t super interested in conversating.

I’m not convinced that Thoroughbred racing is regarded as a sport by the American public at large. Perhaps it’s a regional thing; I assume if you live in Lexington, Louisville, or certain parts of New York there’s something of a culture, the way that living in Gainesville will immerse you in Gator Nation whether you’re looking to be involved or not. Tampa has football and hockey to some degree, and when the Lightning play, the dive downtown hosts not only a slew of Bolts fans but also that one guy in a Red Wings jersey who gets bounced by the second quarter for calling Kucherov a little bitch. I look forward to the day when I live in a place where I can mosey into a bar--any bar, maybe, not just an off-track betting establishment or a track lounge or a sports bar across from the Red Mile--and encounter people with opinions. Horse opinions. Trainer opinions. It seems pleasing, this idea of blundering into an argument about two-year-old races with someone I’ve never met before, the way I’ve observed friends screaming with strangers about Eli Manning. For horse fans in--as we would say in the LDS Church--the mission field, there’s a couple ways of engaging:

Watch at home, on cable or with a streaming option

Head to your local watering hole and micromanage the bartender

Get lucky in your locale and visit a racetrack for better coverage than NBC (maybe even on the infield Jumbotron! Fancy)

It depends on what kind of interaction you’re seeking. On days when I’m at home Twitter-watching, I can editorialize on trainers’ facial hair, don’t have to fight anyone for the bathroom, and am not paying out the ass for artisanal boiled peanuts. A bar has some appeal, as I do enjoy a whiskey-based beverage while watching the ponies run, and there’s always the possibility of some Area Innocent asking why on Earth we’re watching a lot of people wearing bright purple on a Friday afternoon. It’s fun to talk about things you like. I consider myself fairly good at proselytizing (courtesy of aforementioned Church raising); the key is to save your really impassioned speeches for the Internet, which has handy buttons for blocking and muting. A track bar at least guarantees that the people around you understand why you’re excited… but there’s a certain malaise to being, without doubt, the youngest person gazing intently at Gabby Gaudet’s smiling face.

Also, apparently ‘I love him’ isn’t a good reason to bet on a horse? Apparently this type of language is frowned upon by the graybeards clustered around the simulcast? Who knew.

Do I seek the nominally familiar, unsure whether the major factor in common is enough to outweigh everything else? Do I horn in on public spaces as is my right as a sports fan (ha) and hope to get other queermo Millennials chilling in an Ybor bar interested in a niche pastime by dint of my mere presence? It doesn’t seem quite fair, the give and take. America claims horse racing one whole day out of the year as something uniquely American, historically American, the Derby a nice little punch bowl of culture for all to get hammered on. Is that enough to make up for the other 364 days of blithe apathy?

Oh, I said, could you leave this channel on for like three more seconds? The race is almost over.

Oh, said the bartender as Forever Unbridled morphed into Captain America, I didn’t realize you were watching that.

Today’s hunch bet: Fair Regis, #5 in the 5th at Aqueduct. Juarez had a good day yesterday and it’s just too bad all the big boys are back in town and sucking up the custom.

*’Stranger danger’ in the context of horse racing includes but is not limited to middle-aged men who are still angry at Andre Fabre 25 years later, young men trying to pay for your Del Margarita knock-off, crunchy hipsters lecturing about why racing is inhumane, and irate football fans hogging the screens.

[cupnoodle-queen]

Baby's breath, calla lily, windflower, golden rod, dandelion! :) g'morning

Good morning bb c:

baby’s breath: 5 things you associate yourself with:- writing- expensive coffee- white cotton t-shirts- music- stormy weather

calla lily: are you more of a sunny day or a rainy evening?rainy evenings, everytime (I’m actually not a huge fan of the sun)

windflower: list 5 of your favorite blogs and explain why i like themNO! I will tag all the goddamn people I want-

*attempts to single-handedly tag everyone of the blogs I follow/my mutuals*

*internet crashes* …well, I tried.

I will list ten instead (yes Sarah, I took your idea):

@xnoctits - this chick. this. chick. this chick can write smut that goes straight to the c00t3r and shoot your pants off, take selfies that will give you heat strokes and has a sense of humor that will improve the overall quality of your life. I’m so happy she’s my fwend / future wifey.

@nifwrites - my bb. my luv. one of the first blogs I followed when I joined tumblr and one of the first friends I made here as well. Writes both smut and angst SO. FUCKING. WELL. I also have the biggest crush on her OC, Raine (just lemme touch the bUTT) Always there when I need to scream and girl, we scream on the reg lemme tell you h’what. ILU

@louisvuittontrashbags - LISTEN. You want The Good Shit™️, fam? The quality peen writing that will getchu where you need to go? Read LV’s writing. Girl throws down the smut on the daily pretty much, and it’s always A+. Plus she’s hilarious and a Gladihoe and I have a crush on her c:

@saphscribes - Speaking of The Good Shit™️, BOIII, A MOMENT. Lemme tell you something about Saph. They write content that stays with me, that I catch myself thinking about days after reading (WEEKS after, in some cases, I say as I cough in the general direction of THAT Prompto fic,) and it’s always perfect prose and vivid imagery that makes my brain happy and my pants MIA. ILU boo.

@blindbae - If you don’t know Jules yet, send her an ask and say yo, what it do, boo? Guarantee you’ll get a response like, “Oh god, did Mish send you here?” but still, she’s one of the sweetest, funniest human beings you will find on here. Her writing is literal perfection, girl can write angst to pierce my heart like a CapriSun pouch and also has a superbly keen eye for aesthetics. She’s an amazing friend and I love her muchly!

@themissimmortal - Moosh is a cute lil bean but WATCH YO BACK, she can lay down the intense smut just as well as the angst, and she churns out content quicker than I can blink! She’s got a wicked sense of humor and I’m always smiling when I message her. ALSO, PARDON ME BUT, SHE’S INSANELY CUTE GUYS.

@ignis-scientia-estrogen-brigade - If you aren’t following Shea (or is it Shae? fuck fam I don’t know, sorry!!) over at ISEB, you’re missing out on incredible line art and fanfiction, starring that one hot guy with the glasses. THAT’S RIGHT. SHE CAN WRITE AND DRAW. She also streams from time to time and if you’re lucky enough to happen upon one be prepared for a good time, a chuckle and bring wine.

@diabolik-trash-heap - Dia’s work is like my guilty pleasure. She covers multiple niches and kinks that most writers on this site (including myself) would either shy away from or hesitate to write, and she does so with flawless exposition. Oh and um pardon me, but actual hot dAMN. Another tumblr crush, fam *fans self*

@hypaalicious - Another first to follow for this blog and, yo. YO. Not only does she have absolutely flawless attention to detail and writes The Good Shit™️ like it’s her job, she is literal Tag Goals™️ and an actual 26/10 (seriously, guys I have so many tumblr crushes)

@itshaejinju - You want a writer who isn’t afraid to write explicit smut without blushing or batting an eyelash? Here you go, my dude. She’s an original Gladihoe and has written tons of content, plus she’s currently working on a Mafia AU fic that injects some much-needed originality into this fandom. Love my fellow coffee snob

golden rod: are you more of a baker or a cook?I am definitely more of a cook. I can do both just fine, but I’m most comfortable preparing a meal.

dandelion: any special talent that you have?Apart from writing porn? I think I’ve mentioned that I can successfully play MarioKart with my feet. 

[fuckstudy]

Hi! Do you have any tips for studying for a subject you absolutely despise? ((looking at you Social Science -.-)) anyway, if you would have any tips that would be a great help! Thanks

Hey! Omg yes, my little demon was maths + corporations law fml. I’m sure everyone has a subject they absolutely hate with a fervent passion but have to get through. 

Here’s a few tips for studying a subject that you absolutely despise: 

1. Do the bare minimum 

Lol, let’s be honest here. There’s going to be subjects that you love and there’s going to be subjects that you hate. You don’t have to love every subject that you study - all you have to do is pass. 

So, canvass your syllabus/ course outline and see what you’re going to be examined on. Tab the relevant sections of your textbook and ignore the rest. Look at the broad areas of your course and how much weighting they’re given (e.g. the number of weeks dedicated to studying that portion, the assessment %, the type of questions in practice exams). 

Often you’ll find you’ve just condensed the course to about... well 3/4 of your textbook/ reading materials. And out of those chapters, its not like you need to memorise all of it - just the key concepts (see: the intro, the conclusion and probably one body paragraph outlining the key example). 

All those extra readings? Fuck it. That set of extra essays or ‘areas of academic interest’? Screw that. If its not going to make up a huge portion of your examinable content, leave it to one side. 

Condense the course to the bare minimum you need to study so that you can pass. Sure, it’ll be an ugly, barely scraped through pass, but hell that’s all you need.

Use that time for a subject you enjoy. 

PASS, THEN MOVE ON.

2. Leech off someone who enjoys the subject (this includes your teacher)  

Sometimes, its a matter of finding what other people love about it. Finding a friend or another student who is passionate about the subject you hate, asking them what the enjoy about it or heck, just seeing their enthusiasm may help you appreciate the subject. Sure, you’re not going to love it but heck, at least you understand the appeal.

+ people who are passionate about a subject tend to love sharing their knowledge. Engage in casual conversation, ask them questions about areas you’re struggling with etc. 

And they may even point to an area or a niche area of the subject that may pique your interest. This leads me to my next tip.... 

3. Putting it into context 

Sometimes we hate a subject when we can’t put it into context - e.g. “what the fuck is the point of learning how to transform a fucking graph!” 

Ask someone what they love about a subject. Maybe they know an advanced application of what you’re learning that leads to an area of interest. 

Google shit. Youtube shit. Maybe you’ll find a small aspect that may help you appreciate the subject. Because the mere study of the subject doesn't necessarily reflect its practical application. For example, I found contract law extremely boring and dry -- it wasn’t until I started working in the area and realised how these contracts affected the buildings/ events/ my general day to day life that I really began to enjoy contract law. 

4. Be strict with your time

When you have a subject you hate, its easy to put it off to one side. Be strict with your time. Allocate a set time period to do your required homework/ reading etc. Clear your desk of any other subject, books etc phone. Anything not related to that subject goes out the fucking door. 

Start small - maybe 30 mins. After your allotted time is up - MOVE ON. The pomodoro method may help in this regard (see an intro post to the method by @etudiance . 

When you start out, it may be that you spend those 30 mins staring blankly at a book. But by day 6, with routine and time, you’ll eventually start slowly chipping away at what you need to do. 

As to the sequence.... I liked sticking it in between studying two subjects I enjoyed. So I could start my study session with something I liked, then do my allocated hour of doom and have something to look forward to later. 

5. Find a different way to study the same shit 

This depends on your study method tbh. But perhaps find a new way to study what you don’t enjoy - whether that be swapping out those flashcards for a mindmap, dictating as opposed to writing shitones of notes, youtubing videos on the concept etc. 

However, this doesn’t mean procrastinating. Don’t kid yourself - spending ‘3 hours to tidy up your desk before you start work so you can be productive later’ isn’t going to achieve your goal. You’re just putting off your work. Same with re writing the heading of your notes 10 times so you can get the right colours and fonts. 

Rather, space that ‘productive procrastination’ out between your study. Have a 30 min ‘preparation session’ before you study where you clean your desk, get all your supplies, draw up your headings. If you don’t finish, tough - relegate the rest of that prep in your breaks. Move on and get cracking with studying. 

6. Reward yourself! 

After you’ve finished that chapter? DO SOMETHING YOU LIKE. NON STUDY RELATED. Preferably healthy. 

+ heck, sometimes the motivation that comes with nailing 3 exam questions in a row is enough to keep your confidence and momentum up. 

Here’s a few more pointers from some other studyblrs! 

Studying a subject you hate by @acdemic

This reply by @psychstudyblr 

This blog post by How to Study Faster

If you want specific resources re: social science give me another shout and I can dig some up (wasn’t sure what level you’re studying at), or check out some studyblr community lists etc (e.g. @studyblrindex) and I’m sure there’s someone who will be happy to help out (OR SCREAM INTO THE ABYSS TOGETHER W. YOU) 

All the best!