but there are hundreds thousands of people who love you

Just wanted to post some more photos from the marriage equality rally in Melbourne yesterday, and take the chance to tell a couple of stories because there was so much love in my city and I’m so proud of everyone. Long post, sorry, but there’s a bit to cover - ye be warned.

I spotted this cute couple as I walked out of Melbourne Central (a shopping centre and train station all mashed together) and told them they looked fab. Spotted them again and asked for a photo - they were very happy to oblige when all of a sudden the ABC came up asking for an interview, and I took this pic. They were beautiful people.

I’d seen this guy post in the Facebook event just before I left home, and suddenly found myself standing right next to him! We had a quick chat about how many people had arrived and then waxed about how AMAZE it would be if Lady Gaga parachuted in to the masses. Really funny guy and I’m glad to have met him. I swear I’m so much more personable at these things. 

I do love a simple home-made sign. I don’t have a story about this guy, sorry. Actually from here on in it’s all random stories of the day, assume the pics are unrelated.

The Greens senator Janet Rice got her rainbow family on stage while she was talking. Her wife is the Nobel Prize winning climatologist Penny Whetton, and she just happens to be trans. Senator Rice mentioned that in order for a married person to transition they must first divorce their partner. This information drew an audible gasp - fifteen thousand people had just heard this information for the first time and were disgusted.

A timely reminder that marriage equality doesn’t just effect the L and the G.

I spent my time during the speeches standing with the Greens, who I vote for (in the Senate at least) and who gave me a free shirt, so I felt obliged. They’ve been in this fight ever since former prime minister John Howard changed the marriage act - without the need for a plebiscite or survey - so I felt very comfortable chilling with them. I was about to take a photo for them when an organiser came up and announced that Senator Rice was about to do a press conference. They wanted representation in the shot, and as I was standing there and very obviously trans they asked if I wanted to be involved. I’m not a member yet, though, and declined. Besides, I am way too shy for that shit.

There were these two young girls - actually, side note, its amazing how many kids were not only there but openly passionate about the topic of the day - but these two girls couldn’t have been more than seven or eight, and they were leading a cheer as we marched:

One, two, three, four: equality is what we’re for!
Five, six, seven, eight: rainbow families are so great!


They were incredible, and you better believe that people were chanting along with them, these two young cheerleaders who were so full of life and love. 

When the speeches started, the organisers said there were, as I said, about 15,000 people in attendance. Trams were not able to travel on Swanston Street, because people were covering the tram tracks. The lawn and steps leading to the State LIbrary was covered in people, myself included. People stretched down the street and crowded nearby balconies and you couldn’t get out of Melbourne Central on the Swanston St side like, at all.

When we marched, we picked up a lot more people. And I noticed at one point that we covered three entire streets - Latrobe, Elizabeth and Burke - and that doesn’t include the people that had decided to wait on Swanston. By the time everyone got back to the State Library we numbered twenty thousand.

Twenty thousand beautiful, loving, amazing people. It was incredible.

Finally, just a pic of my free shit (and also the free ribbon I received). I had a great time at the rally. More importantly, I’m galvanised. I haven’t campaigned for a political cause since Howard tried to implement an industrial relations bill called WorkChoices, which cost him the 2007 election. I was kinda active then.

Nothing can stop me now.

I’ve signed up to drop leaflets in my neighbourhood. I’m going to as many rallies as I can. I’m going to try and get involved in planning sessions for further action. I’m going to fight for this.

But it’s supremely shitty that Australia even finds itself in this situation.

Back in 2004, as I mentioned, John Howard made changes to the Marriage Act so that the legal definition was exclusively between a man and a woman. This change happened in parliament. Politicians on both sides did not feel the need to formally consult the people before voting unanimously for the change.

In desperation a few years ago (because we queers had gotten very, very loud), then prime minister Tony Abbott (he of the many memes) proposed that if queer people really wanted to get married then they could vote for the right to do so, in a plebiscite. In Australia, if you want to change the Constitution then you hold a referendum, and the result of that is binding on parliament. Marriage, however, is not part of our constitution - furthermore, a plebiscite result does not bind the members of parliament to vote in accordance with the will of the people. It was a delaying tactic, nothing more.

A couple of months ago Minister for Immigration and Horrible Shitty Human Being Peter Dutton proposed a new idea if the plebiscite-enabling legislation was blocked once again by the Senate: a postal survey.

It is, again, non-binding. It’s not compulsory, unlike regular voting. And a survey doesn’t require legislation to acquire the funding. This idea really excited the badly-named Liberals. The expectation was that the No voters, overwhelmingly those who are over 50, would vote in droves while those who would be more inclined to vote Yes would fight each other over ideas of boycotting and have no time to persuade the most powerful group - young people between 18-24 who support marriage equality at a factor of 81% - to post their ballot forms.

That makes the twenty-thousand strong crowd at yesterday’s rally truly astounding. We’re not fighting about boycotts - those that have suggested it have been mostly convinced otherwise. We have all the time in the world to convince young people to vote and in fact the electoral roll has swelled with close to one hundred thousand new enrolments. In a small country like Australia (pop. 24 million) that’s a lot of new potential Yes votes.And queer Melbournians have never felt so much love before, we’re all a bit awed.

We could do with a little help though, especially from those of you who live in a country where marriage equality exists. We don’t need much. We just need you to tell stories. Talk about that big gay wedding you went to last week. Mention how your friends just got engaged and how you’re thrilled for them. Above all, share stories about how the world didn’t end, that people didn’t marry bridges, and that the only thing that really changed was that there is more love being openly celebrated. 

We know that 70% of the country supports marriage equality. We also know that 1 in 5 of those people aren’t sure if they’re going to vote. So a little bit of convincing from internetionals will go a long, long way.

That’s all from me. Thanks for taking the time to read this. I love you all.

And remember: superheroes vote yes!

I literally just cant. Sometimes are you guys hit by the fact, that Lexa the stoic Commander, with the wisdom of generations, fell in love with a smol girl who fell from the sky? She bared her soul to her, and she protected her, and improved and changed her entire life and the ways of her people for that small bi bean?

She was so beautiful. And strong. And just…. Powerful. She moved us all. She inspired so many of us. She inspired hundreds of thousands of us to revolt against the media and their view of the lgbtq youth. She changed the lives of so many

For me, the most powerful yet heartbreaking scene was one of her very last happy moments. That smile, that smile she gave Clarke as she leaned down to kiss her on the bed. Do you guys remember? That smile. It was like… Seeing her for the first time. Happy. Relieved. Satisfied. She looked so beautiful. And raw. And fucking amazing.

I miss her so much

Suicide Squad/Oscar win

This is just my opinion though and I fully see why people are upset about Star Trek losing to Suicide Squad but I thought id share my opinion on why it did win.

Reasoning: Suicide Squad was by NO means, at all, a great movie. Though they had one of the hardest tasks of all, taking iconic characters everyone knows and bringing them to life in a way that is modern is already a task in itself.

Joker and Harleys redesigns were the most iconic pop culture costumes of 2016, they were EVERYWHERE, their outfits were plastered wherever they could be including their wigs and makeup (there are literally hundreds of makeup tutorials for them on youtube). Everyone dressed up as them and there are thousands and thousands of people who have cosplayed them. Even more so, the designs were so popular they’re now in the comics/video games. I personally don’t like the designs but I can acknowledge how insanely popular they became and still are. Enchantress had a rather unique redesign as well.

Jokers makeup was literally one of the most talked about things last year when they first uploaded that first picture, whether you hated it or loved it it was still being talked about and the press around it was insane.

Killer Croc and Enchantresses minions had wonderful prosthetic work as well and the tattoo applications, while simple, are another thing to look at.

Star Trek had phenomenal prosthetic work for their aliens but it isn’t something the general public are gonna remember/see really after a few months. What you are gonna keep seeing for years to come is people cosplaying the designs from Suicide Squad. It earned its Oscar for being one the biggest Pop culture hits on makeup and hair design alone.

The thing about writing, it’s such an intimate thing. When it get shared and people resonate with it, I don’t feel good. I don’t feel good knowing hundreds of people out there or maybe even thousands or whatever number of people who came across my writing felt the same way with me. Because sharing what you wrote might make you less lonelier but it will definitely make you sad that so many people are hurting. My heart is hurting and they are hurting too. I just want to hug everyone who is feeling the same way.
—  kissmylime 

Being a wlw (especially a trans wlw or a wlwoc) can be so isolating and lonely and scary at times but like I just want all of you to remember that you’re not alone. You are never the first person to be feeling the way you do and there are hundreds of thousands of people who have the same fears and similar experiences as you do.

And it really honestly truly gets better.

I love all of you so much. You are so fantastic.

10

Throwback Thursday to the one night that changed it all! The night where I forever painted the target across my back! The night the LA Kings hosted their first ever Pride Night ❤️💛💚💙💜🌈 🏳️‍🌈👑🏒🥅🦁 unfortunately there’s so many pics I can’t share thanks to all the wonderful porn blogs out there that make it so I can’t show the full story or anybody else’s faces 😒 but anyways. I met hundreds of people that night, thousands of pictures were taken, and people just had to know my story. For most, I was the first trans person they ever knowingly met, and I was now a face they could relate all of the media to. I met some of the greatest people that I now consider my family, those who love me for me, something my blood family couldn’t. You never know when, where, or how you will find your love or your natural space, but I promise it’s out there for you somewhere. I’m so glad that I was able to find mine.

Ask Memes;; Tumblr Post Edition
  • And then Satan said “put the alphabet in math”.
  • Sometimes I think I’m sassy and then I realise I’m just too sarcastic and borderline mean.
  • Do my dark undereye circles and unwashed hair turn you on? 
  • I love sunglasses! Am I looking at that tree? Am I looking at your dick? Who knows!
  • This is the police, open up, tell me about yourself, don’t be afraid.
  • Raise your hand if you’re a lil’ bit of an asshole. 
  • Why don’t people do random nice things for me? You know, send me a message, draw me, paint me, send me three hundred thousand dollars.
  • I am three years behind on math homework. 
  • I don’t like your clothes; take them off. 
  • What if you start making car alarm noises when people you don’t like touch you?
  • Hey, is your girlfriend seeing anyone?
  • I get butterflies when I think about myself. 
  • When you see a good body and you just can’t think of a good pun. IT’s dev-ass-tating.
  • Umm… hi. My friend wanted to know if you think I’m hot. 
  • To quote Hamlet, act three, scene three, line ninety two, “no.”
  • I never run voluntarily so if you see me running, you should probably run too because something must be coming. 
  • I’ve got a masters degree in being ignored. 
  • I will do a lot of things, but admitting to my mum that I’m cold after she told me to bring a jacket isn’t one of them. 
  • Dads are either too nice or assholes; there’s no in between.
  • On a scale of fake pockets to nachos, how good is your idea? 
  • I’m alive, but only ironically. 
  • I’ve been in a bad mood since two thousand and seven. 
  • No, you’re not as funny as me. Stop trying. 
  • Just suck my dick, bro. I said no homo like, five times. 
  • I love it when people try to hurt my feelings because I don’t have any. 
  • -sighs- Why am I better than everyone? 
  • I don’t trust people who can look good with messy hair. 
  • If my jokes offend you - one; I’m sorry. Two; it won’t happen again. Three; one and two are lies. Four; you’re a pussy. 
  • If I go to hell, I’m just going to torture everyone by continually asking if it’s hot in here of if it’s just me. 
  • My love is like a candle; if you forget me, I will burn your fucking house down. 
  • Let’s play a game called “Guess My Sexuality”. 
  • I’m angry and quite offended that you don’t have a crush on me. 
  • Are you from Europe because europiece of shit. 
REPOSTING WRITTEN WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION IS ALSO NOT OKAY

You see, we kind of have gotten the hang of the fact that reposting art is not a-okay, but now I want to make it clear, that, at least as far as my writing is concerned, reposting isn’t okay either. I DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ALLOW MY WORK TO BE SCREENSHOTTED AND POSTED ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE OR, GOD FORBID, EVEN WITHOUT CREDIT.

Why am I writing this you ask? @hazyxthoughts Has pointed it out to me that my work, as well as her and the work of many other Tumblr blogs (I am not tagging them because I do not know how they feel about this), is being reposted on Instagram. Not by one account, but many different accounts. It is done often without credit and probably always without the author’s knowledge. 

You want to screenshot my chats and headcanons, fine. I don’t love it, but fine, as long as you CREDIT ME. And by me, I mean credit goes directly to this blog right here. ‘Credit to the original author’ does NOT make the cut. It is extremely disheartening to see your posts getting thousands of likes and hundreds of comments on other sites (without you even knowing about it and without people knowing who even made the posts in the first place).

When it comes to my WRITING, meaning actual drabbles, and ficlets, and stuff that I pour my heart into, REPOSTING IS NOT PERMITTED. N-O-T PER-MI-TTED. If you really want to do it, you must ask and if I say no, it’s a no.

I hate to do this, I really do, but it is time we started acting like writers too, as well as artists, have rights to their own works and have the right to monitor where and how their work is being posted. Because sometimes a drabble that takes you 2 minutes to read, takes me 2 hours to write and I have the right to say that it is not okay for someone else to get followers and likes and recognition for the work that I did.

Why do I need recognition? Because I love seeing what you like, I love seeing your comments, your personal inserts, your own expansions of my universe. I love reading that something I wrote meant something to you too, I love that I made you laugh and smile and even cry. In short, I love that I have a connection to you, my followers, my fellow Tumblerians (that is a word now), and I feel like someone reposting my stuff makes it impersonal and ‘not mine’ anymore.

Feel free to reblog this and add whatever you want to it. I am open for discussion on this topic as I am still not entirely sure how I feel about all of this except that it makes me feel uncomfortable and disheartened.

if you’ve seen negative posts about who does/doesn’t belong in pride and are wondering whether or not you actually belong because of them, know this:

for every person who tries to gatekeep who should/shouldn’t be accepted there are hundreds more who are open to accepting and loving everyone who needs that acceptance and love

for every person who tells you that you don’t belong there are hundreds more who will readily tell you that you do

for every person who decides to act so shamefully during pride month there are thousands of us who just want to have a happy pride spent supporting and encouraging each other and we are all too happy to have more people to share that love with

naysayers and bigots can be very loud and that loudness can make it feel like they’re the only ones around but that isn’t true. there are plenty of people who accept you, who love you, who want you to have a community and a support system and though it doesn’t always feel like it, there are more positive people out there than there are negative ones.

you do belong. you do have the right to celebrate with everyone else. you deserve to have a happy pride. don’t let anyone else ruin that for you.

“Weak”

Haters call Sakura weak. Because of the love she held on to. Because of the tears she’s shed. Because of the man she didn’t want to give up on.

And they refuse to acknowledge, that all these things helped her awaken her inner determination to protect the ones she loves.

Go ahead, be ignorant. Be sexist. Be blind.

I’ll look up to this woman til the day I die.

Because once you threaten the ones she loves?

Sound ninjas won’t stop her. Hit her as often as you like, she won’t let go of you. The puppet master who created a poison nobody could find an antidote for? The man who brought thousands of people to their knees with his hundred puppets? She punched him in the face, he couldn’t stop her either.
The legendary Uchiha Madara who evaded an entire Shinobi alliance, barely breaking a sweat? He stabbed her, she didn’t care, she healed herself just fine.
No, nobody can stop this woman from protecting the people and the world she loves. No, not even Kaguya, not even a god. Said god got punched in the face.

Hell, the man who had Sharingan all over his body and also posessed the Mangekyou Sharingan, the man who was just about to kill Sasuke Uchiha, that man got punched so hard he was practically dead, organs destroyed. He didn’t even see it coming.

All because he was about to harm her husband and her beloved child (and Naruto).

So, yeah, call Sakura Uchiha weak if you want. If it helps you sleep at night. But I’ll continue to take pride in being her fan and I take satisfaction in the fact that if she were a real person, you’d most likely be begging at her feet to not send you right to your death.

Art Reposts

This mostly concerns my HTTYD fanarts, but I’m sure my other works have been reposted without proper credit as well. It has been bothering me for quite a while now. I know there are many people who repost my art, but these particular reposts on Instagram really got my attention:

She/he cut out my signature and watermark…

I know she/he isn’t the only one who reposts my art. I have also seen various recolours and edits from other people. But this person gets hundreds, sometimes even thousands of likes without giving proper credit.

To anyone who does this as well: it’s not fair to the artist. I love to share my art with you, but cropping out my signature and/or watermark is insulting. I put a lot of time and care into my paintings and seeing them resposted, recoloured, cropped, etc without my permission is really upsetting. Artists deserve more recognition than this.

If you want to repost my art, please ask me first. And NEVER repost without giving PROPER credit. Simply saying “credits to the artist” is not enough. You must provide a link to at least one of my social media pages and mention my name, always.

I would really appreciate it if you could do me this favour: please send anyone who reposts artwork without giving proper credit a link to this blog entry, just to let them know how I (and probably many others) feel about it.

Be fair, and give credit where credit is due. It doesn’t take a lot to add a link and mention a name.

Don’t be lazy, and respect the artist.

anonymous asked:

When they brought up the true love question on TTAZZ I let out a single tear for you

Griffin: […] Who was the true love in exile in Crystal Kingdom? That was in one of the verses. Um, for me that– that idea because I used a lot of like, plural pronouns when talking about uh, whenever uh, legion talked about itself because it was like, hundreds and hundreds and thousands of souls, and that like– and like Maureen’s shell housed a lot of those whenever it sang these songs. Like it was sort of a– a community of people singing about people that they you know, were sort of cut off from in the– in the um Astral Plane.

It’s been answered!

NOW STOP ASKING ME!

Just Dancing

// In which Justin and Y/N fuck in a club //

*Warning Mature Content*

————————————

“Happy birthday to Atifa! Happy birthday to youuu!” We all screamed out and cheered as my best friend took her birthday cake shots. She downed five back to back before blowing out the tiny candle on top of the cake I had made for her. We all cheered yet again once the tiny flickers of light turned into nothing more than a smoking memory. I watched with a smile on my face as Atifa turned away from her desert to give Za, her boyfriend of four years, a kiss.

Za is truely a good boyfriend. A few days ago he flew out Atifa and I to celebrate a week of birthday festivities. Today, being her actual birthday, we were currently pregaming before going to the the small celebration that Za had planned at her favorite club. Everyone who she was close with in LA was here but unfortunately for me, someone so unbearable was here as well especially considering the pregame was at his house. Thinking of the white devil himself, I rolled my eyes at the sound of his obnoxious cackle.

With a scowl on my face, my head whipped around to look at Justin Bieber who was already staring at me from across the room. With a stupid smile on his face, he looked me up and down before grabbing a tequila shot off the coffee table as an act to toast to my body. I watched as he downed the shot and stuck his pink tongue out to lick the salted ring before biting into the lime. With my arms crossed, I glared as he sent a wink my way while licking at his plump bottom lip.

“When are y'all fucking?” Za asked with a laugh. A mischievous smile made a way to his face as he sipped his drink.

“We aren’t,” I scoffed, turning my back to Justin who now talking to Kylie.

“As soon as he found out that Atifa was coming he asked about you,” Za slipped.

“Why is he looking to he put in his place again?”

“And was place did you put me in?” Justin asked directly behind me, making me jump in fright. “Because I know a lot of places… and positions I’d like to have you in,” Justin’s hand snaked around me to pull me back against him. I quickly slapped his hand away and spun to face him. Za excused himself with a laugh as I glared at justin.

“Fuck off,” I sneered, taking a drink off the table to make his presence bearable.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my touch the last time you were in LA,” Justin teased.

“It was one kiss. Get over it,” my memory flashback to the horrid game of truth or dare. I just wanted Justin to finally let the kiss go and never bring it up not talk to me ever again.

“Not when you look so good,” Justin took the empty shot glass from my hand and set it back down on the table.  

“Bieber, there are literally hundreds of thousands of women in this city who don’t love themselves and would happily give their time with you. Go be with one of them,” I sighed and took as seat on one of the love couches.

“You and I both know that’s not as fun, princess,” he hummed and squeezed into the seat with me, throwing his hand over my shoulder.

“Don’t call me princess,” I tried to move his arm off of me but his hand grabbed mine and held it in place.

“I won’t call you princess if you start calling me daddy,” He smiled at me.

“Justin, your people have already colonized my peoples culture and land, I’ll be damned if you colonize my ass,” I got up but our hands were still linked.

“That sounds like a challenge to me,” he hummed while childishly swinging my arm.

“You are mistaken,” I snatched my hand away and took a seat in another chair.

“I may be wrong about a lot of things but I know for a fact that you want me as bad as I want you. You’re just too stubborn to admit it,” He leaned towards he as though what he was saying was a secret.

“And what lead you to this conclusion?”

“You don’t feel that?”

“Feel what bieber?” I crossed my airs yet again.

“The sexual tension in the air. It can only lead to one thing,” he tutted.

“Blue balls?” I used a high pitched voice.

“That’s funny.”

“Yes it is,” I nodded.

“Instead of making jokes you should go ahead and give up acting like you don’t want me,” Justin gave his unhelpful suggestion.

“I don’t want you,” I leaned into him with a smile on my face.

“Quit lying to yourself,” He placed a hand on my knee, his hazel eyes gleamed with excitement

“Quit trying to get with me,” I countered.

“I’m Justin Bieber, I get what I want, baby girl,” He spoke cockily before getting up and walking away.

———–

“Yeah you’re definitely going to have to sit in someone’s lap,” Atifa said with a smile as we both looked to see every seat of the suv full.

“Sorry, I shouldve picked a car that sits eight people not seven ,” Justin fakely apologized as he smiled in the second row of the Mercedes van.

“Kylie, can you scoot over a bit?” I asked the girl who was in the backrow taking pictures with Hailey and Kendall.

“Sorry there’s no room back here,” Kylie spoke after she tested the small amount of space.

“Yeah you’re definitely going to have to sit in someone’s lap,” Atifa said with a smile as we both looked to see every seat full. Kendall, Hailey, and Kylie were in the back , the driver and Khalil were in the front, and Atifa, Za, and Bieber were in the middle.

“Fine,” I huffed before climbing over Za to sit on Afita who immediately squealed in dislike.

“I don’t need the dye from you skirt to rub off on my dress,” was her reasoning for shoving me off of her and on Justin.

“You’re all over me yet again. Last year is rehashing itself,” Justin cooed.

“Shut up and scoot over,” I groaned, pushing him against the door so at least one of my asscheeks was properly seated compared to the other on that was still pressed against Justin’s thigh.

“How much longer is the drive?” I asked impatiently once we had been on the road for at least ten minutes.

“Another twenty minutes if there isn’t traffic, ma'am,” the driver informed me, making me groan. Afita looked back at me with side eyes at the fact that I made such a noise right in her ear.

“So that’s how you sound in bed?” Justin asked. I didn’t react to his aggravating words. “What’s wrong baby?” He bugged me once he realized I was being unresponsive.

“1. I’m not your baby. 2. I’m really uncomfortable,” I muttered. my thigh were tensed up as I supported myself upward in such an awkward position.

“My lap is free,” He patted his thighs.

“No, thanks,” I declined immediately.

“Why babe? I don’t bite… unless you ask me to,” He kicked his lips. I held out until a few seconds later, we hit a bump in the road that made me give in. “Shut up,” I spoke as I placed myself on him. I grimaced to myself as I felt him shift positions so that his hand was wrapped around my waist.

“Aw, it seems like everyone is happily paired up with someone! Me and Tyga. Kenny and Cara. Atifa and Za. Justin and Y/N-” Kylie started.

“Hell no,” I ended her statement.

“Look at you all on his lap,” Khalil teased once he looked back at us from the front seat.

“I was uncomfortable,” I explained myself.

“I don’t think you were uncomfortable when you were making out with him last time,” Afita piped up.

“It was a dare,” I lightly hit at her arm.

“A dare that we both enjoyed,” Justin added in.

“Shut up. You know I hate you,” I glared back at him.

“In the words of Aubrey Drake: ‘fuck me like you hate me’,” Justin gave me an dumb smile that others would find endearing.

“You’re disgusting,” I leaned as far away from him as I could while still being sat in his lap.

“I’m more than disgusting,” Justin made an ugly slurping noise.

“Aw! Love is in the air!” Za called out.

“Drink bleach,” I deadpanned.

“Aw, babe. Why are you so mean to me?” Justin pouted.

“You’re gross, ignorant, ungrateful, annoying, pompous-”

“I love it when you use college level words with me,” He easily brushed of my insults that were pouring in.

“You know what? I’m sick and tired of you. I’ve been with you for like five, maybe six hours?” I turned on his lap to look at him. A look of discomfort was evident on his face for half a second, but I didn’t care. “This is unbearable know I know why I never come to LA with Atifa because I always have to see your dumb ass,” Getting so heated, I was talking with my hands and whole body while rolling my neck with every syllable.

“Aye chill out,” Justin hand was wrapped around me again, making me madder. I lowered my tone to be courteous to the other people in the car who were engaged in their own conversations but, I sure as hell was not done.

“Chill out? Chill out? The only thing you’ve done is bring up that damn kiss that I was forced to do. Quit bringing it up. It was months ago and a dare,” I continued, looking back at him with annoyance.

“Okay, okay,” Justin quickly surrendered, looking strained in his seat.

“Okay, what? Okay, you’re going to leave me alone? Okay, you’re going to get away from me? Okay, you’re going to stop bringing up the kiss? What does okay mean?” I spat off my questions at him.

“Okay means calm down and stop moving unless you want me to cum my pants,” Justin spoke, unembarrassed while I immediately tensed up at his words. I looked around the car to see that no one heard what Just had said except for me. Testing to if his words were true, I readjusted and definitely felt him pressed between my ass and, he more I moved, the harder he got.
Moving again, trying to find a position less awkward, Justin muttered something under is breath and kept me still on lap. Finding a thrill in him being so restless, this situation would serve as my way of payback of all annoyance he has brought me over the years.

Khalil who had the aux was casually playing his favorite hype songs through out the ride. Everyone cheered when Drake’s iconic Controlla started. “You like it when I get aggressive. Tell you to go slower, go faster like controlla,” I hummed while dancing on Justin’s lap. I looked back Justin with an evil smile on my face as his jaw clenched while looking down watch my ass, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop me.

“I’m starting to hate you as much as me,” Justin groaned and threw his head back against the window out of frustration.

“Fuck me like you hate me,” I mimicked Justin for earlier, out of impulse, before my mind could catch up to my mouth. His head immediately snapped up and eyes met mine. “I mean-” I was about to clean up my slip but the opening of the car door prevented it. I almost fell out of the car and Justin’s lap when the driver started opening up all the doors once we were stopped in front of the club. I stumbled out and went over to Atifa before Justin could say anything about my comment.

We all entered the club as a group and were escorted to private section of VIP. Our little sectioned off part of the club was the most illuminated area of the whole venue. Everything else was dark despite the strobe lights that flashed on the faces of  those dancing. The VIP section sat high above ground level at we peered down, seeing the crowd go
crazy as music pumped through the club.

We sat around the circle booth as drinks were being served to us. Justin, sitting across the table from me, was consistently staring as I danced in my seat and talked back and forth between Khalil and Kendall who were beside me. I kept drinking until I felt all the tension and annoyance that Justin caused in me slip away. Twenty minutes later, I found myself pushing Khalil out of the booth and making my way out unto the center of the dance floor.

I danced. I danced for so long. I dance with anyone who wanted to dance as well. I felt like the center of attention as men and women alike took notice of me and waited for their turn. Each time someone got a bit too handsey or couldn’t keep up with me, I floated to somebody else to dance with. Never getting bored with the feeling of someone’s hot body against mine, I continued to move my hips to the music that shook me.

All too often, I would look up to the VIP to see some of the group cheering me on or engaging in dancing of their own but all in the same, each time Justin was staring down at me with a drink in his hand. Each time I looked up there, his eyes didn’t stray from me once, at least until he couldn’t be seen at all. Shaking my thoughts away from him, Atifa joined me soon enough, with Za at her side. Za and I sandwiched her as he danced behind her and I twerked against her thin. She playfully slapped at my ass as I popped back on her. I kept dancing with them until Atifa turned to kissed Za. I smiled at them hazily before closing eyes and letting the music move me.

It was when I was dancing to Young Thug that, I felt strong hands take hold of my hips. I hummed in appreciation at the fact that this person obviously knew what he wanted and it was me. I rolled my hips against his as my fingers ran through short hair and locked behind the back of his head. The man behind me groaned in my ear before pressed a kiss to my exposed neck. I crooked my head so that his lips would instead catch my lips. At the feeling of them against me, I opened my eyes in surprise as a blue stroke light flashed over Justin’s face.

“That wasn’t a dare,” He spoke in my ear as his hands dragged up and down my thighs, pulling my dress up with it. Doing the only thing I could think to do, I pressed my lips against his again. He moaned against my lips as I licked into his mouth and bit at his bottom lip. My lips trailed down his neck and bit into him. In retaliation to the pleasurable pain I was giving him, he grasped at my ass roughly. I laughed before turning back around to dance again.

I smiled as I pulled at Justin’s hands, giving him permission to touch. Tanking the hint, he moved up and down my legs before settling on my hips. All while I was staring at the beautiful man in front me. The luring smile I gave the man more more than enough invitation dance in front of me. One of my hands moved to the should of the other guy as Justin’s grip on me got even tighter. Hearing the opener to one of my favorite dance songs, I couldn’t help the happy giggle that escaped my lips as Red Nose started playing.

“Don’t hold back,” Justin spoke, voice raspy. Taking his words to heart, I dipped down low and grasps the hips of the man in front of me for support. An aching want bubbled in me as I felt Justin’s hard on for the second time this night against me. Justin’s finger tips dug into my hipbone as to pull me closer against where he wanted me most. I threw my ass back and Justin definitely knew how to catch it.

Justin followed my movements easily as I shook my ass like a red nose pit bull would shake its’ toy. His body was so in tune with mine, it made me wonder how good he’d be in bed. If this dance was the indicator then his stroke game would be flawless. Tired of me leading the motions, he took control of situation and grinded against me as though he was prepared to take me home and fuck me open.

Our hips moved filthily to the beat as Justin’s hands wandered and found his blunt fingernails scratching themselves against my inner thigh. I shuddered from the sensitivity as Justin’s eager moved were more than responsive to my twerking. The man in front of me who I was still hanging onto, was recklessly begging for more of my attention as he started thrusting his hips close to my mouth.

Upon seeing that, Justin snatched my hands off of the guy and pulled me up again. I looked back to see Justin glaring at the man as his hand ran in between my thighs yet again. As another act of dominance, he continued to roll my hips back with one hand and grasped my breast with the other as his teeth bit deeply into my neck all while staring at the man who wanted me as well.

I gasped as he kept licking and sucking while his raging hard on pulsed against my ass. I couldn’t take it anymore. Justin left open mouth kisses that swirled from my neck, all the way up to my upper jaw. My legs went weak at the hazily arousal that imbedded us. I turned back to face Justin and engaged him in a sloppy kiss. We were in our own world as we licked into each other’s mouths and I ground myself against his thigh, building up an even bigger need for an ultimate release.

“Please,” I mumbled against his lips as I started to push him back. I wanted- I needed to be brought somewhere else. Justin moved back easily with my pushes. We got farther and farther from the center of the dance floor. Finally, we made it to one of the walls of the building where very little light was visible. Noticing the convenience of our new placement, Justin spun me around and pinned me against the wall. I whimpered his name as he threw my leg around his waist and used that leverage to ground his hips against me again.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned in my ear before licking at my cleavage. I shuddered and held him down, wishing he could be sucking on my taunt nipples. Justin grunted against my breasts before finally putting is hand inbetween my legs again. I gasped and opened my eyes quickly to see if anyone was noticing our actions.  Feeling high on the fact that we could be caught, made more of my arousal pool into my panties.
Taking a look around, everyone was focused on either their own partners or dancing in itself.

Justin put two fingers in front of my face, which I quickly sucked on. Waiting for my nod of approval, pushed my panties to the side. I shuddered as I felt his fingers lather in my arousal for a second before pushing them into me. My one leg that held me up, started to shake as all the sexual tension that built up between Justin and I over the years was finally resolving to something. Justin was quick with his fingers as he rapidly screwed them upwards. It didn’t take long for him to find my g spot considering, I shook violently every time he hit it.  

“Open your eyes,” He instructed with a harsh tone. I followed his command and met his eyes. Even in the dark lighting, I could see how much he wanted me. His eye contact never left mine as his fingers drilled into my center. I whimpered and subconsciously leaned my head back against the wall. In response, Justin quickly took hold of my jaw and manually put my eyes back on him. That demanding touch alone, almost brought me to my climax. I bit down on my bottom lips as I rocked my body down onto his fingers that were bringing me so much pleasure.

“I want you to cum right here in front of everybody,” Justin’s voice racked. His thumb roughly started rubbing at my swollen clit while his fingers still moved in and out of me. His eyes looked down to see my body spasming against his finger as his thumb swiped from side to side against me. My orgasm was at the brink and I frantically looked around at room to make sure no one was watching as I let go for Justin. My orgasm took me as I bit down on Justin’s neck preventing, my loud moans from meeting the air. A squirt if my arousal slipped from me and soaked Justin’s hand, my dress, and the floor alike as my orgasm shook me.

“I didn’t know you are squirter. You just keep getting so much fucking hotter than you already were,” Justin complimented as he pulled his fingers out and a smaller stream fell from between my legs.

“Fuck me, God I just need you to fuck me right here,” I whimpered as I unlocked my leg from around Justin’s waist and I started working to get his dick out.

“Right here?” he asked, his eyes wide at my desperation. I nodded quickly and made him shudder once I pulled his underwear covered bulge from out of his pants.

“Please, Justin,” I begged while grasping my hand around his throbbing dick, making him moan out.

“This is so hot,” he muttered as he quickly pulled a condom from his back pocket. Just as he teared it open and was about to put it on, some random guy leaned on the wall beside us and was way to close for our liking.

“Restroom, restroom, restroom,” I called in his ear while trying my best to help him get back into his pants. Not bothering to buckling it all the way, he covered his crotch with one and hand and dragged me along with his other hand as we trailed the perimeter until we found a bathroom. Without hesitation, he pulled me into the men’s bathroom and quickly directed me into a stall, all while I heard cheers from the men who saw me walk in.

He quickly closed and locked the stall door before pulling down his pants and briefs. I moaned at the sight of his veiny cock that slapped his stomach at its release from confines. He was so much bigger than I thought he would be. I thought his ego was so big because his penis was so small but, he proved me wrong. My mouth watered so bad, I began to lean down just to get a taste of it. “Other time, I just need to get in you,” He pulled me back up the rolled the condom on himself.

I nodded before turning around to bend over and pull my drenched panties off. Not even waiting for them to be half way down my thighs, Justin gave no warning as he slammed his whole self into me. I screamed at the sudden fullness I felt as Justin began to rock in into me. He used short, little thrusts until I grew accustomed to the feeling of his thick cock splitting me open. My hands braced myself against the two conjoined walls of the stall as Justin’s thrusts became heavier and harder. I couldn’t help the little pants of air that escaped me every time he pounded into me.

Justin’s large hands found his way to my ass and pulled my cheeks apart. He held onto them as a way to still me. Eventually, he used his grip to pull me back on his cock at the same time that he pushed into me. The sounds of sex were the only things I could take note of in this backroom. The sound of my wetness, our moans, and the pounding had me at a loss of words as I took everything Justin gave to me.

I hummed in surprise when Justin hooked my leg over his arm and positioned me so that my foot was supported on the little toilet paper stand attached to the wall. I moaned louder as the angle worked for the both of us, even better than before. Justin loving the sound of my pleasure on my lips, used my moans as encouragement to hammer himself into me. With every other second he thrusted in and out of me and hit perfectly against my walls.

“Justin, Justin, Justin,” I whimpered at his name while his sharp teeth bit down on my shoulder. His hand moved down to my pelvis so that, I could continue to pushed back against him at his whim.

“God I’m gonna- are you close? You about to cum?” Justin’s asked, voice strained from our actions. I quickly nodded and bounced my ass back against him while he sped up even faster. I couldn’t help clenched around Justin’s dick that pulsed inside of me continuously. The toilet paper rack, no longer able to support my weight throughout our erratic movements, unattached from the wall and fell to the ground with a loud shatter. I could only focus on it for half a second before I was cumming again.

My cum shot out of me in multiple squirts as my legs shook. I tried my best to support myself with my grip on the wall while all my arousal left my body. My earth shattering orgasm was prolonged by Justin pushing himself back into me and releasing himself while twisting and pinching at my covered nipples. Justin pulled out allowing one last stream of my juices trail out of me and down my inner thighs. Justin apparently couldn’t help but lean down and lick up the cum that was dripping down body.

“So um-” I spoke first after regaining my breathe while justin cleaned me up.

“I always knew you wanted me,” he kissed at my thigh once more before pulling my dress back over me ass. I cringed at the wetness that was pressed against my bottom due to my squirting.

“Anyways,” I tried to change the subject while best trying to dry myself up.

“Kiss me,” He pulled my shaky body against his firm one.

“Don’t touch me,” I reverted back into my old sober and hostile ways.

“Let me take you out sometime,” He offered while buckling his pants. and fixing his disheveled appearance.

“No.”

“I’ll give you my shirt if you agree to go out with me,” He started to pull off his flannel.

“Why would I want your shirt?” I scoffed.

“Because your cum is all over your ass,” He laughed.

“Fine,” I snatched the shirt from his hand and tied it around my waist. After I checked that the coast was clear, I left the stall to fix myself back up in the mirror.

“Tomorrow. 7:30. I’ll pick you up at your hotel. Dress nice,” He hummed from behind me.

“Fine, but no one is going to know about the date or the fact that we just fucked,” I made my terms.

“Fine but, I’m pretty sure our friends will be able to tell considering you can’t walk straight,” Justin laughed as I walked towards the exit.

“Don’t come back to the table for at least 5 minutes,” I instructed so that we wouldn’t rejoin our friends at the exact same time and draw suspicion. Justin rolled his eyes but nodded all in the same. I readjusted my outfit.

“Hey, where have you been?” Kendall asked happily once I appeared back at the booth. Kylie and Khalil were nowhere to be seen but the rest of the group was there. Kendall who never drank much was as close to sober as anyone else was, making it harder to be nonchalant.

“Oh, just dancing,” I shrugged.

“Have you seen Justin?” Hailey leaned her head off the table with a hopeful smile.

“No, thank god. I haven’t seen him all night,” I took a seat the booth.

“But you’re wearing his shirt,” Kendall pointed out.

“Because I did see him once and I was cold so he gave it to me,” I lied.

“Then why is it around your waist?” Kendall raised her eyebrow at me.

“Because once I warmed up, I got hot again,” I took a sip at who’s ever drink was in front of me.

“Hm,” Kendall didn’t seem all too convinced. Soon enough, Justin joined us at the table a table

“Justin! Where have you been all my life life life life?” Hailey drunkenly sang Rihanna’s song.

“Yeah, where have you been,” Kendall piped up before looking at me then back at Justin again.

“Just dancing,” He shrugged and sat down next to Za.

“Aye, You spilled something on your pants,” Za noted a splattered wet stain on Justin’s jeans. My face heated up, immediately know what the stain was.

“No, I  didn’t. Y/N did though,” Justin laughed knowing that no one else would get it.

“She said she hasn’t seen you all night,” Kendall brought up.  

“Well, I’ve seen a lot of her,” He licked his lips and I kicked him from under the table. Everyone looked between Justin and I for a moment in silence.

“You owe me $200! I knew they were going to fuck tonight!” Za exclaimed at Kendall who pulled out her wallet and tossed two hundred dollar bills at him.

“Headass, you never can keep your mouth shut,” I kicked Justin again who erupted into laughter.

“Well I know how to keep your mouth shut and also how to have you moaning my name too,” He cleverly used word play.

“Za, get your friend before I kill him,” I huffed.

“Choke me out with your thighs after our date tomorrow night,” He exposed our plans making the table go into hysteria. Justin smiled at the chaos he caused in our friends. I could do nothing but roll my eyes; I really hate Justin Bieber.

the thing about being a young woman is that they will take everything from you. and i mean everything. and they will make it about them. your makeup, your clothes, how much you eat. your attitude, your hairstyle, your gym routine. they will take your driving and your train stations and your video games. your sexuality as sexy, your gender identity as a fetish, your cooking. your tv shows and your high heels and every harmless thing. 

if they cannot eat it, if it does not satisfy them, it will be an immediate shame. they cannot control how much you put food into your body, so it is seen as disgusting. your love of starbucks is your vapid need, your comfortable boots are symbols of your inherent stupidity. your fake nails, your body’s natural cycles, the hair on you. bath bombs, pink, the low singing of women talking about depression. your crazy, your hyper, your laughter, your loud, your excited, your passions. the things which are yours, that do not belong to them, that cannot be taken and devoured like flower petals, cannot be sucked dry until the wilt forms in you. 

do not satisfy them. let them starve. let them shy from the sin of you, the unfettered sinfulness of loving taking up space.

Destigmatizing fan fiction (or, say it loud say it proud; the others are unappreciative idiots)

You know what irritates me to no end? The reputation that fan fiction has. Like, people act like it’s this silly lame thing to where I’m way too embarrassed to say that I write fanfic, when in reality these works can be hundreds of thousands of words long, written by some incredible authors who really poured their heart into them, and consumed by thousands of readers. The characters are well loved, yet often so complicated and taken in a unique direction by each individual author. Fan fiction is no different from regular fiction; writers simply borrow characters and near and dear relationships as a starting point.

Let me share an anecdote (I know, when do I not, but bear with): in senior year for my creative writing class we were instructed to submit a portfolio with a common thread. At the time, I was dealing with all manner of anxiety, and I figured that I’d invested so much effort and work and time into my fics that why not just showcase those? And so I edited them a bit, changed names and pronouns, took out fandom-specific references, a turned them in. My “common thread” was relationships. I explored different styles of writing, focused on primarily gay ships (they were all Johnlock, by the way), and in the end I did come up with a balanced and well-loved series of short stories. My teacher LOVED them, loved the variation, loved the very different plot lines, and then told me (and I live by this) that writing is just something I “need” to do.

Is my writing any less valuable because it started out as fanfic? Do I have less latent talent or passion because of it? Absolutely not. I write for hours because I love it. I keep myself up til 4 am (0/10 would recommend) writing, because it’s so seamless, and because it’s constantly in my head. Just because I write fan fiction doesn’t mean I’m not a true writer.

In conclusion, I think it’s time the world cooled their jets and got rid of the ridiculous stigma around fan fiction (yes, even and especially gay ships) and view it as simply a genre of writing, no more or less valid or respectable as any other. Be proud of your hard work; from now on, I certainly plan to respond to inquiries, head held high, that my writing is largely under the “fan fiction” genre.

Intervention/Stiles Stilinski Smut

Originally posted by prettiestcaptain

Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)

Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*

Part 2

Request: Hi!!!! I love your writings so much! Could you write a smut with Stiles? And there’s handcuffs and the reader is super dominant?

This is Trash

Keep reading

Prompt 7 - Touch

Something that the lovely @somethins-gotta-give and I came up with last night!

Prompt Request - When soulmates touch they can see each other’s past. Like maybe he finds her and refuses to touch her cause he doesn’t wanna scare her or doesn’t think he deserves her. 

—————————————————————————————————-

The first thing that you notice about Jason Todd is that he is always wearing gloves. Whether they are thick motorcycle gloves or thin flesh colored ones, he always has something covering his hands. Most people never cover their hands. Most of the time people go out of their way to touch hands with everyone that they meet because the only way to find our soulmate is to touch their hands. So when you shook Jason’s hand and you felt the glove you were taken aback.

“Hello, I’m Y/N” you hold your hand out to shake, and when you make contact the only thing you can think to say is, “You’re wearing gloves”

Jason chuckled “Very observant of you. I’m Jason”

“Do you ever take your gloves off?”

“Only when I shower, sweetheart” he winked and pulled his hand away, “It was really nice to meet you but I have to go”

You jutted your bottom lip out in a pout, “Do you really? Or are you just uncomfortable with my questions?”

“I really do have to go, I have to talk to Bruce before he goes out to lunch, but here …” Jason quickly scribbles down his number and hands it to you, “Give me a call sometime, you seem like a really interesting person”

You smile and nod, quickly buzzing Mr. Wayne so he knows that Jason is on his way and not to leave yet. When you get off the phone you look down at the number Jason had given you. You felt strangely drawn to a man who was practically a stranger, one who wouldn’t let anyone touch his hands. You decided right then that it would become your mission to touch Jason’s hand. You had a slight feeling that if you did you would find out that he was your soulmate. You smile and begin figuring out a plan of action. Operation Touch was ready to commence.

-

It had taken several months of friendship for you to even get an invitation to hang out at Jason’s apartment. In that time you had limited any form of contact with him to a minimum, and whenever you did touch him it would be on his hand.

“Y/N do you want pizza of Chinese?”

“Pizza” you yell back. Hopefully he will take off his gloves to eat the pizza, giving you an opportunity to touch one of his hands.

Jason walked back into the room, “Alright, it should be here in about 30 minutes”

“Will you ever let me touch your hand?” you ask

“No” that one word was sharp, it brokered no argument, but of course you didn’t listen.

“Why not?” you demanded. You stood up, standing toe to toe with Jason, refusing to back down.

“No one deserves to live through my past” His answer was vague, and unsatisfying.

“How do you know? How do you know that my past isn’t worse than yours?!”

Jason’s laugh was loud and mocking, “What did daddy hit you? Did you not have very many friends in middle school? Did someone mess up your Starbucks order?” he sneered

You jolted backwards in shock, his words like a slap to the face. “You don’t know anything about my past!” you screech. “If that’s how you feel then I should just leave!”

You storm out of his apartment and trudge home in the rain. Jason doesn’t know anything about your past, he thinks is life was the worst thing ever, he thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t. You fling open your closet and grab the box from the bottom. You didn’t think that you would ever put the suit on again, but you needed to hurt someone, you needed to be who you were trained to be.

-

Once all of your gear was on you look in the full length mirror. Y/N was completely gone and in her place was The Shadow. That was what the League of Assassins called you. You were never seen, you were never heard, and your targets would never even know you were there. You had been Talia’s right hand, you had helped train Damian when he was younger. You had talked to the child many times since you were banished from the League and he knew not to reveal your identity.

“He thinks dying was bad” You chuckle, “He has no idea”

You glanced over at the cloths that you wear when you are the adorable secretary for Mr. Wayne, someone had once referred to you as a ‘cute little kitten’. Those cloths were so much different than the all black you were wearing now, a scarf covering your entire face, the only thing that was visible was your eyes. You were quick to exit through your window and leap from rooftop to rooftop heading towards Crime Alley.

“Fucking vigilantes, popping up left and right!”

Jason. You hadn’t really expected to run into him tonight, you had actually gone out to get away from any thoughts about the Red Hood. You turn around and face him, “I don’t want any trouble, I just need to let off some steam”

“See the problem with that is that you could get hurt, and if I let a civilian get hurt the Bat will be on my ass.”

You sigh, “Just leave me alone Hood, I am in no mood for your nonsense”

Jason opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly a scream echoed up from the alley. You wave and flip backwards off the side of the building, catching the fire escape ladder and using it to slide down. In the alley are four muggers and a young girl backed into a corner.

“Boys, I suggest you leave now while your balls are still attached to your body.”

The four men snarled and turned on you. You jerk your head slightly, telling the girl without words to run. Then the first man lunged. The fight was short and sweet, painful for the muggers but not one of them managed to even land a blow on you.

“I suppose you aren’t an amateur” Jason admitted, landing on the ground beside you

“What tipped you off? The fact that I am wearing League cloths or that none of them touched me?” You put your hands on your hips and gave Jason an incredulous look.

Suddenly you hear a crackle in your ears, “Shadow, nice to see you out on the street again”

You grin, “Hello, Robin, Batman”

“Wait you two know her …”

“Of course I know her, Todd” Damian snapped

“No names in the field, Robin” Batman reprimanded

“I already know who everyone is … Mr. Wayne”

Bruce sighed, and Jason looked at you with wide eyes.

“Take off the scarf” he demanded.

You only raised one eyebrow at him, “Take off your gloves”

His eyes widened, “Y/N? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You quietly unwind the scarf an let it hang around your neck, “Surprise. I told you that you weren’t the only ones with secrets Jay, but you didn’t even want to try. Am I that repulsive where you weren’t willing to risk the chance of me being your soulmate?”

Jason’s shoulders slumped and he pulled off his helmet, “Its not that, not that at all! I was scared” he admitted, “I was scared that you wouldn’t be able to accept me! I mean I’m the fucking Red Hood! I have dies and come back! I have had the Pit Madness! Why would I ever want someone to see that!!” Jason was shouting by the end of his rant.

You sigh quietly, “I was raised by the League, I had to murder my mother and father just to keep my little sister alive, I have been beaten, stabbed, shot, and almost killed. You think you are the only one who was brought back by the Pit? I was too, several times. I have killed hundreds, possibly a thousand people on Talia’s orders. I have done countless horrible things, but I was willing to risk everything for you!”

You quickly wrap your face back up in your mask and turn to leave, right as you get to the mouth of the alley you turn back, looking Jason right in the eye, “Who do you think took care of you before Talia put you in the pit, when you were nothing but a shell! I was the one who brought Damian to you when you couldn’t even say your own name, Jason! I loved you when were a husk, and when you were whole again I realized that I had the chance to fall in love with you again”

Jason looks taken aback, “Why didn’t you touch me then!?!” he shouted

“It was against Talia’s orders then, by the time I was banished you had already left and started wearing the gloves”

You stormed away, deciding that you would rather go home than stay out patrolling the city. But by the time you get home you already know that someone else is in your apartment. You unsheathe your knife and get ready for an attack. The light flicks on after a second and Jason is revealed standing in the middle of the room.

“Give me another chance” he demands, slipping off his gloves and reaching for your hand. When he comes in contact with it he looks surprised to find that you are now the one who has gloves on, blocking any contact.

“Why should I Jason? If you hadn’t found out the things I told you tonight, would you let me touch you? Would you accept me as your soulmate if I was just the cute little secretary who worked for Bruce?”

“Of course I wouldn’t! I would never have hurt you like that! If you were normal my memories would have scared you for life! But you aren’t normal! You understand my life, you understand my memories, what I have been through because you have been through that too!”

Hesitantly you bring your hands together and start to pull off the gloves, “You really want to see if we are soulmates? What if we aren’t?”

“If we aren’t then we remain friends, we continue as we were”

You nod quietly and reach out a tentative hand toward Jason. Your fingers make contact and it feels like everything is imploding. Both of your knees buckling but your hands remain clasped. Memories poured into you, Jason’s mind giving you everything, and yours doing the same. You feel his anger, his betrayal, and eventually the forgiveness of his family. You see yourself through his eyes, and he sees himself through yours. By the time everything has faded into the background and you are once again in your own mind you understand how everything that Jason went through would have probably hurt a normal person.

“Are you alright?” he whispered

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine”

Suddenly you are yanked forward and your lips crashed into Jason’s. His hands running over your neck, desperate to get in contact with more skin. You pull away and both of you change, him into pajama pants and you into nothing but one of his t-shirts. Jason can’t keep his hands off of you. It isn’t sexual, not yet, just the need to feel someone else, to feel their skin under yours. You understood his need, you could see from his memories that he had rarely been touched since his death.

“You know something?” you whisper

“What, sweetheart?”

“You looked really hot in those short pants”

Jason groaned and covered his face with his hands. “I knew I didn’t want you to see my memories for a reason”

You laugh when he pulls you up onto his chest, so you are pressed together from head to foot. Jason was touch-starved, and you were fully prepared to give him all of the touch that he needed, not that he had allowed you in.

anonymous asked:

why do you talk about namjoon so much if yoongi is your ultimate bias?? my friend is the same; she loves taehyung to death but all i ever see is hobi on her blog

I reblogged another ask about it 

why not be vocal for the one who needs more representation? there are hundreds of thousands of people who bias yoongi who will be there to talk about him, shower him with love, defend him, give him post-its, make art, fics, etc. and that makes me amazingly happy. 

so if I can be just one more voice for namjoon, I will be. if there was only one post-it question, I will give him the post-it, if I could only meet one, I will wait in line to see him, if I could only get one signature, I will get my cd signed by him, if I could only speak to one, I will tell him how special he is to me. 

Pressure - Josh Dun

Request: “Hey can you do a josh imagine maybe where people think you are with him just because of money and fame? idk you can take this wherever you want. Thanks :-)” 

Word count: 1,160

A/N: Sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you were looking for. Let me know if there is any trigger warning I should have on any of my stories :)

Dating Josh had it’s perks. Sometimes you could fly out to his concerts, award shows, or just adventure around random cities with him. However, it also had it’s setbacks. Dating the drummer from Twenty One Pilots meant that your life also got thrown into a spotlight. One minute you were a normal girl with a couple hundred Instagram followers, and then you gained thousands upon thousands in a matter of days. This wasn’t necessarily always a bad thing but you weren’t the kind of girl to love being the center of attention. You weren’t with Josh because he was in a very successful band. You were with Josh because he is your best friend. Josh knew that, but that didn’t keep a lot of people from believing that a normal girl like you could only be with him because he is “famous.” You had grown to hate that word. “Famous.” It took a lot of substance away from who Josh is as a person. 

Josh was the type of boyfriend to constantly remind you in little ways of how much he cared for and absolutely adored you. He was the guy that hugged your broken pieces together and restored your faith in modern day relationships. Josh told you how much he loved you in little ways:  By bringing you lunch to work, by massaging your tired shoulders after a long day, by grabbing your hips when you step off the curb a little too soon, by rubbing his thumb over your knuckle when you held hands, by kissing your forehead in front of his friends, and when he’s gone, by constantly checking in to make sure you are okay. None of that involved fame. But of course, rumors start small and then snowball into his fans being extremely skeptical of you. You loved the clique and definitely understood that they wanted the best for Josh, but the hate still got in your head. 

Recently you had attended a very formal award show with the boys. You obviously did not have any gown that was elegant or fancy enough for this kind of event, so Josh hooked you up with a popular L.A. stylist and got them to make you a gorgeous dress. To be honest, you felt like a million bucks and all the photographers on the carpet thought you looked like it, too. You could not have been more thankful towards Josh. You spent the whole night at the show whispering to him. “Really Josh, you didn’t have to… thank you… I love it, I really do… I can’t believe you had them make this for me.” But you always got the same response from your dear boyfriend: “Y/N, you deserve it. You look absolutely gorgeous. Now quit thanking me every minute. Don’t worry about it.” Inevitably, fashion editors from various magazines took note of your outfit. Some experts tried to estimate the cost of your unique gown. You had never really asked Josh how much he payed, but you knew he wouldn’t have told you anyway. The prices that people were guessing were well above your average clothing store purchase, and it was pretty safe to assume that you hadn’t paid for it. 

The stylist had posted an Instagram picture of you on the red carpet:                   “So happy with how the @y/insta/n dress turned out! Per request of my good friend @/joshuadun.” 

@/faninstagram: So y/n makes Josh pay for her expensive clothing? That’s ridiculous.

@/faninstagram: I wouldn’t make Josh pay for my outfits… because I obviously wouldn’t date him for his fame.

@/faninstagram: @y/insta/n, pay for your own stuff. Work for your own money.

@/faninstagram: this is no ordinary boyfriend/girlfriend gift. An expensive dress for an award show? Don’t make him pay for that, @y/insta/n.

And so they went. Now it seems like everyone thought you were bathing in Josh’s dollars and cents. Now three days after the show, you were getting pretty tired of all the hate comments about the dress. Your brain also couldn’t help but adopt these doubts that were presented to you. Maybe it was wrong of Josh to spend more on you than you were willing to spend on yourself. Maybe you should find a way to pay him back. On pure impulse, you made a plan. You would work extra hours during the week as well as Saturdays until you could at least pay half of the estimated cost. That was reasonable, right? Or was that still too little?

Josh’s spare key clicked in your apartment door and his familiar yellow head of hair peered into the entry way. “Y/N! I’m here!” Quickly, you formed a half hearted smile and welcomed him in. He smiled back.                                     Good. He won’t notice my internal state of panic, you thought. 

“Y/N, I was thinking we should go out with Jenna and Tyler for brunch on Saturday. They invited us to this really great spot that we have to try.” 

Crap.

Crap. Crap Crap. This is the fault in my plan. More time working means less of the already minuscule amount of time I get to spend with my boyfriend.

“Umm… errr… I actually… I work saturdays,” you mumbled. Josh raised his eyebrows in a shocked but adorable way and tilted his head to the side. “Since when?” It was now extremely apparent that you had not prepared an explanation for Josh. “Since now.” He still looked beyond lost, and reasonably so. “Y/N. If you don’t want to go… We can make up a more believable excuse for Jenna and Tyler… I’m sure they would understand if-”

“No. Josh. I’m serious. I’m starting to work Saturdays from now on. Your fans know. It’s too obvious that it was a gift. I didn’t pay for the evening gown. I feel guilty Josh… I don’t know what you payed that lady to make my dress, but I feel awful that I didn’t help pay for it and now the clique hates me.” You just let all those words spill out of your mouth. You probably surprised yourself just as much as Josh to hear the direct explanation out loud. 

Josh paused and then he chuckled lightly. “I don’t think you get it. I don’t think these ‘so called fans’ get it either to be honest. I think I’m a big boy that can budget his spending accordingly. I’m not telling you what I bought your dress for, I’m sure you know that, but please know that I’m not blowing my life savings. I promise.”

You exhaled the breath that you suddenly noticed you had been holding in. “Oh good… now that I think about it, brunch sounds way better than the coffee in my office.” Josh was by your side in a second, wrapping his arms around you. “You were my guest to the event after all. You are my most prized possession. If i want to treat you once in a while, so be it.”

so this post by @lesbianemilydavis came across my dash and because this topic is what im writing my dissertation about this year ive turned a jokey post into a dive into video game morality and im?? really sorry??

spoiler warning for these 2-4 year old games yall


the post talks about the games ‘the last of us’ and ‘life is strange’, both of which feature a moral choice at the end: whether to save or essentially kill a companion character that both you and the protagonist have grown close to over the course of the game, considering saving the character will in both cases cost the lives of hundreds if not thousands of others. these decisions are much-discussed in the respective fandoms because they’re fuckin huge, theyre massive moral and philosophical questions, and people love to come along saying theyre right and decry anyone who picked the ‘morally wrong’ option.

these games are essentially dramatising the old ‘two train tracks one runaway train do you send the train over one person you love or ten strangers’ question. and of course we all know logically, objectively, morally, the lesser of two evils is to save ten lives over one life. but we’re also all human beings with emotions, and i think if any of us were actually faced with this choice none of us would be so quick to pull the trigger (piglet) on the person we love, even the objective moralists who turn up on the internet talking about how wrong and selfish it is to save chloe or ellie. 

these questions of ‘what would i do in this position, and do i think that’s morally right’ are exactly what the games want you to be asking. video games as a narrative medium have a dual-purpose that isn’t found so directly in other forms of literature: they want to tell a story, but they also want to induce some kind of reaction in the player, whether that’s fun or fear or questioning your own morality.

ofc these two games go about inducing that response in opposite ways – in tlou it’s joel that makes this moral decision, and you the player have no choice but to go through with what he’s decided. the only choice you have is keep playing or turn off the game. on the other hand, lis gives you that moral choice to decide yourself, and although there’s a case to be made to say that the game tries to push you in a certain direction, you are still ostensibly in control.

but whether they give you a choice or not, both these games ask you to confront your own morality and priorities, much more effectively than other narrative mediums ever could.

Keep reading