so if you think this is about you exclusively talk to your ego

A Woman's Personality

(Check your Venus Sign)

The Urban Sophisticate: LEO, SAGITTARIUS

Her strengths: This woman is funny, hot, and spontaneous. When you walk into a room with her, everyone stares at you in envy. Neil Strauss, the author of the best-selling dating memoir The Game, puts it simply, “This is the kind of girl everyone wants, and it makes you feel awesome when you’re the one who has her.“ 

Her weaknesses: "You need enormous confidence to date a woman like this,” Strauss says. “She gets off on attention, but you can’t get jealous.” If you’re independent, you’ll dig her ambition, but make sure she wants you–and not just the ego boost you provide. 


The Arty Hipster: PISCES, GEMINI

Her strengths: She knows where all the dive bars are and all the art shows with free wine. She’s exciting and stylish, but not as untouchable as the urban sophisticate. “She actually likes nerds and intellectuals,” says Ian Coburn, author of God Is a Woman: Dating Disasters. And she actually cares about culture. “She can be great for a guy who wants to learn more about art and music,” says Ian Kerner, Ph.D., a relationship therapist and the author of She Comes First. 

Her weaknesses: Do you keep going after her because you hope her cool will rub off on you? If your interests don’t match, don’t expect to just coast along on her taste. “Girls like this have opinions,” Kerner says. “And they want you to know the difference between Jonathan Adler and Jonathan Richman.”


The Vegan Yoga Gal: AQUARIUS, LIBRA

Her strengths: She’s got great skin and a long neck, and she gives you long back rubs with wacky oils. All that deep breathing means she rarely flies off the handle, and you value this perhaps even more than you value her amazing, high, tight rear, which is saying a lot. Strauss says, “This is a woman who really wants to make a deep connection with life, and a man who wants the same could be really into her.” Fisher says that independent, analytical, or creative guys could find her alternative view fascinating. 

Her weaknesses: Remember, Strauss notes, “These women are almost exclusively interested in men who are into the same stuff they are.” Love her, love her lifestyle.  


The Alpha Female: VIRGO, ARIES

Her strengths: She graduated from college in 3 years and went right to law school without taking a vacation. She’s hard to keep up with. Ironically, it’s not the alpha dog who should try dating her. “A scientist, artist, or teacher will do well with this woman,” says April Masini, author of Date Out of Your League. “If you’re not interested in power plays, she won’t fight you." 

Her weaknesses: She has a lot in common with alpha males, but these relationships are too intense. "They can’t make time for each other,” Fisher says. Coburn cautions that pushover types are often attracted to such women, and some alpha females – the sadistic ones – are attracted right back. “Obviously, if this is your dynamic, it isn’t good.”  


The Intimacy Junkie: CAPRICORN, SCORPIO

Her strengths: She goes to yoga, too, but it’s the easy kind that’s more about “connection to the self” than sculpting a smoking bod. So what if she’s a little in your face. The sex is amazing. Strauss likes women like this. “She is the best kisser in the world. Very intense, very into connecting.” Fisher says independent men will love such a deeply verbal gal, and Kerner thinks all men should date someone like this. “Most men need help learning to communicate, and she will help them." 

Her weaknesses: The intimacy junkie makes you feel great at first. She’s so into you and your feelings. Analytical men will find themselves easily ensnared in her macramé web. "He will be super into her at first, but there’s going to be a lot of talk about the ‘meaning’ of the relationship, which might cause it to implode,” Fisher says. 


The Happy Homemaker: CANCER, TAURUS

Her strengths: She’s no gold digger – all she wants is a Volvo wagon and a nice, cozy three-bedroom. She wants to have your kids, take care of them, and take care of you. “Some guys draw a great deal of ego satisfaction from providing for a family, and there is nothing wrong with that,” says Masini. A man who grew up in a very traditional household will love her, and, conversely, a guy who grew up with domestic chaos craves this woman for the stable home she provides. 

Her weaknesses: Remember that when she says she’s not going to work, she means it. Career-minded men could be happy with an arrangement that allows them to focus on their work while she manages his domestic life. But if the financial stress builds, you may not be able to convince her to get a job. 

Rocky Road

Rocky Road
Ship:
Jungkook | Reader
Description: After dumping your all too vanilla ex, you want to go back to your fuck buddy, who added a bit more flavor to your sex life.
Warning: Dom!Kook, Slapping, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Blowjob, Degrading Names, Master Kink, Hair Pulling, Choking, Intercourse
Word Count: 5,378
A/N: It’s 3:31 and I’m going to die. But I’ve been really craving dom!Kook and this idea seemed too good to pass up. Enjoy!

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How I Overcame Reader’s Block (And So Can You!)

As a kid, I adored reading.  Okay, more specifically, I enjoyed reading about dragons, but that’s not the issue here.  

It frequently coincided with my equally as intense love of climbing trees, and some of my fondest memories involve being perched in a small tree and reading some hopelessly goofy, dragon-related literature while my mom and toddler siblings used the playground equipment.  If no climbable trees were available, I’d settle for reading under one and drinking a thermos of chocolate milk while they ran around in the park. 

As I got older, my tastes got a little more eclectic as I encountered Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Anne Shirley, the residents of Narnia and Middle Earth, respectively, and much to my mother’s horror, Stephen King, but my passion remained more or less the same.    

Bottom line is, I loved reading.  It was my paramount joy, my primary source of entertainment, and I didn’t think that would ever change.

So imagine my shock when, around my sophomore year of college at the age of seventeen, it occurred to me that I hadn’t really read for pleasure since I discovered the Hunger Games a year or two prior.  Moreover, and equally as horrifically, when I tried to read I found I couldn’t focus;  regardless of the quality of the story and how much I wanted to read it, the investment was gone.

Whether this was due to my first stint with organized education (prior to college, I was homeschooled) or the fact that I’d grown accustomed to the bite-sized chunks of candy-flavored, insubstantial information served up by the internet, the sad and simple fact was that I had fallen out of love with reading, and it looked like it was going to stay that way forever.   

Well, flash forward two-point-five years to Present-Day Brooksie, and since school got out in early May, I’ve read Chuck Palahniuk’s Make Something Up: Stories You Can’t Unread, Ruth Ware’s In a Dark, Dark Wood, Emma Straub’s The Vacationers, Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book, and Celeste Ng’s Everything I Never Told You.  Despite the disappointing lack of dragons, I loved all of them.    

I drink books like nectar again, if you’ll pardon the floral language, and everything from the quality of my writing to the quality of my life has improved as a result of it.  

So how did I fall back in love with reading?  Well, I’ve spent a lot of time pontificating on this, and as far as I can tell, it can be narrowed down to three factors:

1.  Reading every day.

It started with lunch.  Every day, when I’d sit down at my university cafe, I used to get out my laptop and watch YouTube or whatnot while I ate my sandwich – a cool idea in theory, but really sort of gross whenever I rubbed my greasy fingers on the mouse and keyboard. 

When I made a conscious decision to read more, I began taking out my book and reading during the lunch period instead.  It didn’t come naturally at first – I was easily distracted and kept zoning out – but I ultimately found it very pleasant, especially when I listened to some classical music in the background as well (nice for atmosphere, and for drowning out noise and distractions.)  

I kept doing it.  

When that summer rolled around, I rediscovered an amazing little outdoor cafe by the harbor.  It had no wifi, which for my purposes, was absolutely perfect.

I went there to read Good Omens and eat home baked lemon squares, pie, and banana bread, listening to international tourists speak in other languages, and watch the boats go by.  It was a beautiful environment, and that (coupled with the fact that Good Omens is just really fucking awesome) made it easier than ever for me to want to stay longer and become more engrossed in what I was reading.

Afterwards, I’d take out my notebook and work on my own stories and journal.  Overall, I’d say that summer was one of the most intellectually productive I’ve had.  

Once school started again, it got a little harder to read every day, but by then my love of reading had pretty much caught:  it had become an intellectual drug for me again, a source of comfort, pleasure, and inspiration.  Also, it was another viable excuse to procrastinate on my academic responsibilities, which was always welcome.  So I kept reading.  It was still a relatively slow process, as I had to work around my already busy schedule, but the more I read the more adept I became at drinking in the information in hungry, satisfying gulps (a bit more suggestive than I’d initially intended that metaphor to be, but I’m going to go with it.)

But this isn’t to say that there were no bumps in the road back to bibliophilia.  There was another factor that I had to grasp before I reached the point where I could unabashedly adore reading once again.

Which is: 

2.  Reading what excites me.

No, I’m not speaking sexually, you pervert.  I’m talking about books I actually want to read.  

When I first started trying to get back into literature, I started trying to read the classics exclusively, like Around the World in Eighty Days and Little Women.  Let me be clear, these books are amazing (excluding the jarring amounts of racism and endorsements of British colonialism in the former) but after semesters of reading similar works for my literature seminars, they just felt a little like…academia.  

In fact, the only reason I was insistent on reading classics exclusively, I now realize, was because I was a pretentious, pseudo intellectual little shit back in those days with a horrible case of impostor syndrome.  What I needed to re-learn was what dragon-loving, Ten-Year-Old Brooksie long since already knew: the best way to enjoy reading is to read what you actually enjoy.

It was a lesson I slowly but surely remastered, and it took me a while to realize that modern literature is teaming with smart, enriching reads, like Life of Pi, American Gods, Where’d You Go Bernadette, The Twelve Tribes of Hattie, The Help, Everything I Never Told You, and countless others.  

Moreover, these were books I didn’t have to force myself to read;  they were books I found myself reading at four AM because I didn’t want to stop.  

I’ve also discovered classics that I can eat up in a matter of days, like A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Which absolutely everyone should read, by the way:  Francie Nolan is a feminist icon, and way, way ahead of her time, not to mention it’s fucking hilarious and will make you cry like a little bitch), Jane Eyre, and basically anything written by Jane Austen.  I love these books for their sharp wit, applicable and timeless life observations, and striking lack of the pretentiousness that I’d come to associate with a lot of classic literature.

This summer, I my reading list includes Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse 5, Douglas Adams’ The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club, Louis Sachar’s Holes, Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See, and Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys.  I’m looking forward to reading each and every one of them. 

Ultimately, the point I’m trying to make here is that there’s no joy to be found in pretentiousness:  don’t read to prove yourself as an intellectual.  Read to enrich your soul, read what you legitimately enjoy, and read what inspires you.  

Which brings me to my next and final point…   

3.  Reading what inspires me.

This one might be true specifically for my fellow authors, but since I know a large portion of my followers are fellow authors, I think it’s applicable here.  

Ever since I was an infinitesimally small child, I’ve wanted to write stories.  When I was fourteen I wrote a hopelessly angsty YA novel about a half-dragon girl named Freedom and her misadventures with an ambiguously lesbian vampire and werewolf duo, a seductive and ambiguously bisexual elf (it was a time of self discovery for me), and a talking lion.  When I was eleven, I wrote a middle grade novel about a little boy who befriends a dragon.  When I was four, I wrote *ahem!* drew wordless stories about a winged wolf-creature named Starlight and his (in retrospect, overtly gory) battles with monsters.

It was bizarre, cringey, and I’m not gonna lie, pretty fucking awesome.  

Around the time I started college at around sixteen, I’d just decided I wanted to start writing again.  I had lots of ideas, and I remember in detail getting yelled at by my manager for scribbling in my notebook behind the counter instead of dutifully smiling at customers the way I was supposed to.  

But my writing was…well, to put it bluntly, it was really, really bad.  It only began to improve when I resolved to write every day.  It noticeably and drastically began to improve when I began to read works that I found creatively inspiring. 

While I was revising my manuscript, I read a lot of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, both masters of the kind of urban fantasy I was attempting to write,  and spent a lot of time figuring out what I loved most about their writing and how to best apply it.  This was also around the time I began reading Douglas Adams, which was, let me tell you, a magical experience.  It involved a lot of delighted gasping on my end and thinking you’re allowed to do that?

It really showed me what the barriers were for creative writing, or in this case, total lack thereof.

I think I owe these writers a lot for helping me to create several novel-length manuscripts I’m incredibly proud of, and one that I’m currently preparing to get published.


So in closing, for anyone suffering from reader’s block, feel free to try my approach:  read every day, read what you love and not to stoke your ego, and for my writer peeps, read what inspires you.

Either way, my books and I are enjoying a passionate long-term relationship, and every day I find myself loving them more.

Signs As Woman’s Personality

The Urban Sophisticate: LEO, SAGITTARIUS

Her strengths: This woman is funny, hot, and spontaneous. When you walk into a room with her, everyone stares at you in envy. Neil Strauss, the author of the best-selling dating memoir The Game, puts it simply, “This is the kind of girl everyone wants, and it makes you feel awesome when you’re the one who has her.“

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LGB no T.

I am so sick of this. The black community has worshipped dick and centered black men in everything since day 1. Now silly handmaidens and black men who ‘identify’ as black women want to speak over actual black women to prop themselves up. How dare you disrespect our existence and use patriarchy in a dress to make yourselves the focal point of female oppression. It’s called SEXISM not genderism for a reason. Being female has been the sole basis of our abuse and you have the nerve to pretend all of that can be redirected to being about your “mentality”. Get the hell outta here. You don’t get to redefine things to suit your agenda. Now you’re out here peddling the lie that “black trans women” face the highest level of violence. Bull fucking shit. Black women have experienced more violence than ANYONE ever, especially if we are dark skinned. Black people have been enslaved by other black people, whites, arabs and Natives, all of whom raped black women . Some even forced us to breed in astronomical numbers and take care of all the children regardless of color because all we were good for was production. Black women have suffered FGM, have been forced into marriages as children, our bodies have been placed in human zoos for people to gawk at our 'unusual’ figures, our bodies have been used against our will to advance science. Present day black women carry those scars with us because trauma against our humanity for daring to exist while black and female is generational. Not only are we missing and trafficked at ridiculous rates but we are also raped, assaulted and killed under the radar. We have become the punchline for black 'entertainers’ and black men everywhere from our skin tone to our character to our mannerisms to our genitalia to our diction. We get cervical cancer more than anyone but we better not say it because “not all women have a cervix.” 😑 We are the poster children for everything wrong in society. When society talks about welfare queens and single motherhood, they’re not thinking of 'trans’ black women. When we get blamed for “destroying the black community with our feminism”, they’re not thinking of 'trans’ black women. When society talks about black women being ugly and ghetto they’re not thinking of 'trans’ black women. When people approriate our culture and style to give themselves an edge, they’re not taking it from 'trans’ black women. Black women have attitude. Black women are fat. Black women are raising thugs. They’re not talking about 'trans’ black women. Day in and out, black women are society’s scapegoat while all you care about is being able to use the bathroom you prefer and being able to date straight men without opposition. That is what we call a First World Problem. Your identity crisis and the elective surgeries you get to appease it do not take precedent over the global and never ending disrespect of black women. We didn’t have to alter ourselves and go out of our way to be oppressed like you. Just by existing as is, the world has told us that is enough reason to take endless craps on us. Stop acting like black men haven’t always found it ok to fight black women like men because our blackness allegedly discounts our womanhood. Stop acting like black men haven’t embedded it in their mind that black women are not human but their mules to take care of them when life is hard, only to be discarded when they become successful. Stop acting like black girls aren’t constantly robbed of our innocence with assault and dubbed 'fast’ so our pain is overlooked and our fault. Stop acting like people haven’t always called black women, men because we are the antithesis of white beauty standards. Stop acting like every woman doesn’t get an ego boost on our backs. We are woman enough to be raped, trafficked, called bitches and hoes but too 'manly’ to reap the finances, protection and reverence patriarchal society’s claim to give women. Stop acting like black women are not abused physically, psychologically, emotionally and financially and haven’t always been by white society, black society and everyone in between. Acting like you have it so hard when we have always been treated like an other just for being born. “The most disrespected and least protected person on the planet is the black woman.” - Malcolm X He said black woman. Not black 'trans’ woman. Cis privilege my ass. You think because you’ve been feeling for the last year what black women have been feeling since FOREVER, that you have it worse? You are only experiencing a sliver of what we get anyway. It’s just that typical fragile masculinity you were born into that has you thinking you are the peak of oppression. You went your whole lives ignoring and/or capitalizing on the degradation of black women because your maleness allowed you to put it on the back burner. Your internal issues with gender did not negate the external privilege you received. But now that you 'identify’ as one of us, we need to make you a priority or you slander us with poor reverse psychology. How narcissistic can you get? Womens rights are only worthy of attention when you are involved? “TERF” is not a thing btw. Stop using racism, sexism and homophobia to make yourself valid. You cannot compare white privilege, male privilege and straight privilege to this nonsense. Women have never had privilege. Or do you just wanna ignore the last thousands of years? You were born on the side of privilege and into the dominant oppressing class. Now you want access to a marginalized group with no questions and throw tantrums when we say no. It’s almost like your male privilege conditioned you to force yourself onto women at any cost and taught you how to play victim when women don’t fall for your shit. You want equal footing in womanhood but won’t hesitate to remind us you “have it worse”. You want to call lesbians bigots if they exclusively like women and vagina… because hey, how dare some women not want penis in any way, shape or form. Blasphemy! You have no concern for women in shelters fleeing abusive men. You invade their spaces and tell them to suck it up if they don’t like your dick and masculine energy. You say nothing when born males use their advantages to dominate female sports. But you’re the victim, right? I will say it again. It’s called SEXISM, not genderism for a reason. You don’t get to keep playing the “being born in the wrong body is not a privilege” card to ignore your advantages and complicity at our expense. Gender identity issues are low priority in comparison to everything else. Every day black women leave our homes, we are subjected to antiblackness and misogyny just for being ourselves. Doesn’t matter how we dress or speak, it is hurled our way just for being in a female body via a black package. It will be a cold day in hell before those born male and their delusions get to define womanhood but those of us born female and our realities that came with it don’t. Yes, we are the arbiters and gatekeepers of womanhood and it pisses you off there’s nothing you can do about it except rally your naive liberal handmaidens and scream TERF. Interestingly enough, there are countless instances of 'trans women’ raping, assaulting and killing women but not ONE woman has done that to you. Yet here you all come… into our spaces IRL and on the internet to force yourselves onto us. Why don’t you go after the men who fuck you in private but don’t want to publicly be seen with you and take your lives with the same gusto? Is it because you have no privilege over them and instead, it’s easier to gang up on the 'weaker sex’? It’s almost like you devalue women so much, you wanna speak over, redefine and attack us all while blaming our words for violence against you… well what do you know, patriarchy strikes again. We will not give into your demands. We don’t negotiate with terrorists. (If misgendering you is 'violence’, well propagating existent violence against us is indeed terrorism.) 😊

#blackfeminism #feminism #womanism #womenfirst #saynotopatriarchyinadress
Guidelines for Being in the MBTI Community

This hasn’t been done before, so I thought I’d illustrate some things for the newbies. Having been in MBTI so long, I forget there are people who are fundamentally ignorant. Here is how to gain the most from the community and especially when dealing with seasoned MBTI theorists

1. You don’t know anything. I don’t care how many tests you’ve taken, how many copypastas you’ve read about Your Type - you don’t know what you’re talking about 

2. Shut up and listen. There’s a reason why so many of us seem short tempered and unwilling to debate. We’ve had these debates. We know more than you. So be quiet if you want to learn. The nicest seasoned bloggers on here are the ones who aren’t actually “nice,” they’re just more professional. And they have the same qualms as other bloggers. 

3. We don’t owe you anything. We don’t owe it to you to type you, respond to your questions, or anything of the sort. We are here to teach you, in our own manner, what we have researched about MBTI. 

4. MBTI does define you. Get over it. It defines an aspect of yourself. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you also take issue with calling yourself whatever your nationality is, your creed, your race, sexuality, whatever. Now WHAT aspects it defines, we are here to teach you. If you think MBTI doesn’t define you, chances are you don’t know what you’re talking about or what MBTI is. Thus, I’d like to refer you to points 1 and 2. 

5. Stay uncomfortable. Truth does not come exclusively from comfort. There is comfort in MBTI and its paradigm, but in order to approach it properly, you need to follow and accept points 1, 2, and 4. MBTI is not for validating your identity, strengths or weaknesses. 

6. If you feel invalidated, take a look in the mirror. MBTI is a fairly neutral tool when used properly. Anything that makes you feel bad is a result of your own weak ego, insecurities, and thirst for validation. Stop that. MBTI is not your mirror for you to project your weaknesses upon. Following that, the bloggers are not mirrors for you to project upon. 

7. Study in your own time. A lot of bloggers will reference paradigms and complex ones at that. Many of us have written extensively on them. Take a bit to research what we’re talking about, because the information exists, and quite likely on our blogs. Many, many, many (dozens or hundreds) of asks get ignored/deleted because it is clear you aren’t doing your part. Anyone who is spoonfed MBTI will quickly flounder when trying to apply it themselves. 

8. We are that good. We know what we’re talking about. If you don’t like it, leave. Arguing with us, when you know nothing about MBTI, won’t get you very far. We constantly debate among ourselves because we have put in the time, effort and have the foundations for a good debate. Don’t ask us “how we are so good at MBTI” and turn around and say “you can’t do that.” Because we can. And we do. And most of you on here don’t have the foundation to even begin to type people in unorthodox manners as we do, which is why many of us don’t elucidate on topics such as visual typing, typing based on physical behavior, typing based on how someone talks, etc. Again, just because you can’t do something doesn’t mean we can’t. We are not a mirror of your capabilities. 

9. We are not here to prove ourselves to you. We have nothing to prove. Those who want to learn, shall, and those who want to stroke their ego about how much smarter they are than us will, and the latter shall be ignored. I personally blog out of obligation, given that there is a lack of good information on the internet. But I don’t need to prove myself and stroke your ego. I’m going to do what I want to do - which is teach. 

Okay, remember when I said I wouldn’t talk about 1d anymore? Let me do this last thing.

Okay so literally, the whole stalking culture/wanting to be famous? Okay, let’s talk about another larrie problem: the secret larrie club.

What is the secret larrie club? You know those people in kindergarten forming super exclusive circles of Cool Kids and ruining the fun for everyone else? Yo, now bringing back the kindergarten fun in fandom, we have the amazing Secret Larrie Club (SLC for short, and no, I’m not talking about Salt Lake City, though SLC Punk was a film that shaped my teenage years).

So, what does this club do? Nothing, mostly, except like, inflating each other’s ego in a big circlejerk. They think they’re the ones who have all the supersecret infos, and they stalk or use stalkers to obtain those, and then (this is particularly important, kids, listen up) they make it so that their Opinions are More Right than other people’s opinions.

To get deeper into what the SLC does: they stalk people, or become friends with people with the purpose of obtaining info from them. And this not only makes them not trustworthy by people who have actual info (which, *Alanis Morissette’s voice* isn’t it ironic), but also is totally useless for any purpose that’s not gaining popularity in the Larrie world.

Like, why do you need to know Harry’s plane info? To establish that Larry is real? Well, big fucking deal then, I thought we all knew since, like 2012. No, you need that info to say you’ve got that info to your follower, and subsequently being treated like a queen Bee. Only to say you don’t actually stalk the boys because you don’t go and meet them in the street, when there are actually multiple ways to stalk someone. And boy, do they notice that, I can promise you ;) but I’m digressing.

Anyway, the lack of self-awareness is one of the most ridiculous things, like, we have two different groups of people acting like stalkers, and both denying it. Only, one of the groups has that holier than thou attitude, and publicly denigrates the other group for stalking (and privately is all buddy buddy with them, just like De André sang in La città vecchia: quella che di giorno chiami con disprezzo…)

And after you’ve hurt people you claim to care about (because they do see you stalking and they’re obviously not happy about it) you use those info to gain popularity on your tumblr blog, and to establish yourself as a Trustful Info Source so you’ll gain followers from that.

But you have to be the only Trustful Source (you and your pals), or everything will be lost and you won’t be the queen bee anymore. Hence, the opinions thing.

And from that, it’s just natural that if someone has  an opinion differing slightly from the SLC Opinions, they must be cancelled, erased, and sent in the eighth circle of hell (which is where Falsifiers are punished, according to Dante Alighieri our lord and saviour and if you say he wrote a fic I’m decking you). You still think that Larry is real, babygate is fake, but you don’t think that people should stalk? Omg, you’re an anti for sure, let’s send anon hate your way. Or you don’t think that a particular piece of information is valuable? Anti, anti, anti. And also deluded. like, basically they throw around the word anti just like in that queer meme where every thing upsetting you is homophobic.

Of course, this is a perfectly acceptable kindergarten behaviour. Kids are still small and still learning, and adults gotta teach them. And if you consider fandom like kindergarten, good for you. I guess.

But there’s nous autres who don’t really consider fandom like kindergarten, who maybe want to live in a nicer environment where you can express you opinions without being viciously attacked (by “””””your side””””” too, lmao) for it, and who think that stalking is always wrong, and slut-shaming is too :)

And yet. The SLC is ought to get us, unfortunately.

Originally posted by punklivesforever

But not this time, SLC, not this time around. This time around you can go stick that sense of self-entitlement up where the sun doesn’t shine (namely your nose, of course, we’re classy people here, I would never wish anal upon anyone). or you can go eat pineapple pizza, which is even worse :)

For any hate you might have, come @ me, my block list is too short.

Stutterin’ Pete {5} -Peter Parker x Reader-

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

Part 5!

Fandom: Marvel / Marvel MCU / Spider-Man

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter’s alter-ego starts to interfere with his relationship with you. Now, neither have you have proposed being exclusive but you couldn’t help feeling jealous and driving yourself crazy over the suspicions that Peter, wherever he was, wasn’t alone. This leads you to blow up on him, leaving him in the dust and very confused. It takes a visit from the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man to truly open your eyes. Patching things up with Peter was easy, it felt great but duct tape only lasts so long.

You also become increasingly aware that Peter, Ned and Michelle would be going to DC soon for the Decathlon Finals. There was one other person that would be going on this trip.. Liz Allan. A girl Peter has been very open about being into since you were kids. Liz’s interactions with Peter start to become more frequent, your fearful brain suspects she has seduced Peter and he had given into his childhood crush. Despite whatever it was that had been going on between the two of you.

Warnings?: This part is probably going to be long.. There’s talking about injuries, swearing and maybe/definitely some fluff. ;)


Originally posted by yourneighborhoodmess

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Ned asked fiddling with Peter’s mask. “She would probably understand.” He added.

“No, no, no.” He said turning his desk chair around to face Ned still holding the small screwdriver in his hand he was been using to tinker with one of his web shooters. “If Y/N knew about this she would be so angry with me. She would worry too much” He said gesturing to the red and blue suit that was laying on the bed next to Ned.

“I don’t see why you suddenly need Y/N’s approval anyways. It’s not like you guys are together.”

We aren’t.” Peter said feeling his heart hammer against his chest feeling as if it was going to thump right out. He turned his back to Ned again trying to hide his blush that he knew was spilling onto his cheeks. “It’s just… You know so I figure it would only be fair if I told her why I’ve been such a flake.” He shrugged his shoulders “But then I realized that just because I’ve known her as long as you and… I trust her, that doesn’t necessarily mean I need to share my secret identity with everyone. You found out by accident so thats almost justified.”

“And who told you not to tell anyone?” Ned asked.

“…Mr. Stark.” Peter said

“Oh… You mean Tony ‘I am Iron Man’ Stark?” He asked Peter paused realizing that Ned had made a good point.

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t have Mr. Stark’s money to have security following me and people I care about. What happens if one of my enemies goes after those closest to me?” He asked

“What enemies? The fake Avengers from the other night?”

“Okay fine, future enemies.” Peter grumbled rolling his eyes.

“Don’t get grumpy with me. It was your idea to tell her and also you that told me it was a bad idea minutes later.” Ned quipped. Peter sighed.

“You’re right… It’s just… I hate all the lying.” He said

“I know, man. You’re doing a good thing though. Protecting your family and stuff. Very heroic of you.” He said smirking.

“Don’t be an idiot, Ned.” Peter said but they both started to laugh.

“Hey, you.” You smiled into your locker hearing Peter come up behind you. He had waited. You were getting hours at the Library after school, technically only one but you hadn’t expected Peter to wait. You turned to kiss him briefly.

“I didn’t think you would have waited.” You admitted shoving your books into your backpack.

“Oh, I did leave.” He assured you. “But I decided to come back for you when the hour was up. How was it?” He asked leaning back on the lockers beside yours. You shrugged.

“Alright. I mean it was no great task.” You said zipping up your bag. “Speaking of those, did you see the News actually did a story on that Spider-Man guy?” You said Peter coughed.

“O-oh, no. I haven’t se-seen that.” He said as you closed your locker.

“He’s pretty cool isn’t he?” You asked slinging your backpack onto your shoulders. He shrugged his own broad shoulders.

“I g-guess so.” He said as you started towards the exit.

“I hear Liz Allan has a crush on him.” You said

“She does?” He asked, you internally rolled your eyes at him. Of course, you bring up Liz Allan and his interest in peaked. A little too much, you thought jealously.

“Yeah,” You added your voice clipped. “That tells you how above high school boys she thinks she is.” You didn’t want to look at him, you felt like you were going to lose your temper even more.

“Maybe Spider-Man goes to high school.” Peter said nonchalantly. You stopped and fake-checked your phone.

“I don’t think I can hang out tonight, Pete.” You said

“Why?” He asked seemingly clueless to the fact that you were blowing him off.

“My mom wants me to do something.” You lied you couldn’t leave him like this, as much as you wanted to. You put on your best smile tough due to how hurt you were feeling. “Thanks for coming back for me though.” You said he nodded and stepped towards you for what you assumed would be a goodbye kiss or hug. You couldn’t  touch him right now. You didn’t want him to touch you. So you backed away more waving.

“Bye!” You said and rushed off before he could stop you.

Keep reading

One and The Same (a Jacksepticeye and egos AU story) - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 2: https://spiffanywolfe.tumblr.com/post/164367017463/one-and-the-same-a-jacksepticeye-and-egos-au

Chapter 3 is here! And with a new chapter (apparently) comes a new ego! (Once again courtesy of the followers of @chase-brody-protection-squad ‘s blog.) However, unlike Robbie, I don’t think this ego will be around for very long. I want to just keep with seven main characters so I can keep track of them all XD Any other egos created during the writing of this will probably just have little cameo appearances from now on. 

And since I’m on the subject, I’ve seen that the Survival Hunter (one of Jack’s very first ‘egos’ from the earliest days of his channel) is starting to become a proper ego. I feel like I have to include him somewhere but…I can’t think how. I’ve got nothing. So, for now, he’s not going to appear in this. If anyone has any ideas as to how I could fit him in, please let me know!

Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. Enjoy chapter 3!

***

Chapter 3 - Welcome home

“Right, does everyone remember the plan?”


“Yes Jack, you’ve asked this question 10 times already!”


“Alright, alright!” Jack said, scowling at Chase as they stood on the platform. He never remembered the Underground taking this long; they’d been waiting for a good 15 minutes and still now train. The anxiety was killing him. He felt every single pair of eyes that stared at them, he could hear every whisper of wonder the people staring at them exchanged, and he could feel every step closer the scientists took to catching up to them. He started jumping from one foot to the other in an attempt to get rid of this nervous energy, but nothing changed.


That would be a pretty funny story for the scientists to tell though, Anti said, ‘Subjects T10 / C0-6: attempted to escape but were caught while waiting for the London Underground to arrive’.

I guess you’re right…

Jack thought back.

“The plan is: if anyone asks, we’re a group of brothers heading to a fancy dress party, right?” Marvin asked. Robbie was crouching on all fours behind him, narrowing his eyes and growling at everyone that passed; turns out he wasn’t a massive fan of people.
“Exactly,” Jack replied. At that moment, the ground beneath their feet began to shake, and a rumbling sound reverberated through the tunnel. The clones tensed.
“What the fuck is that?!” Jackaboy said, clearly on edge.
“That’s the train coming,” Jack replied, “Don’t worry.”

Two bright lights appeared in the black of the tunnel to the left, which turned into the front of a train, which turned into a whole train which pulled to a stop in front of the group. The red doors opened, and a female voice said: “mind the gap.” Jack motioned for everyone to follow and squeezed through the doors. Once they were inside, they (miraculously) found seats for everyone and settled down for the journey.
“Zhis is a train?” Schneeple asked, looking round in disgust, “It looks like a giant tin can on wheels.”
But Jack wasn’t listening. He was watching Marvin, who was sat next to him, staring intently down the carriage with wide eyes. Jack nudged him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Maybe I’m just being paranoid,” Marvin said nervously, “but I think that guy is watching us.”
He pointed to a man sat further down the carriage, wearing a black suit and glasses. Jack was just about to say that maybe he was just staring at them because they looked strange - much like everyone on the platform had been doing - when the man narrowed his eyes at them, pulled out a phone and began talking into it. Jack’s heart began to race. Had they really been caught this early? Before he could tell the others that they needed to get off this train immediately, the doors closed and the train started to move.

They were stuck.

Jack leaned back in his seat so he wouldn’t have to look at the man anymore and leaned close to Marvin’s ear.
“Just don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself.” He whispered.
“What’s happening?” Robbie asked, sitting on the seat with his knees up to his chest and balancing pretty well dispute the train constantly wobbling.
“Nothing.” Jack said quickly with a smile, “Nothing. Me and Marvin were just having a chat.” He thought it was best not to freak everyone out. Besides, there was a chance this man was just an ordinary man, a business man even, just talking to a college in the phone. Maybe Marvin was just being paranoid.

Jack had just started to believe that when he saw the man get up and start walking toward them.

Well shit, Anti said, You’ve got trouble.
Let’s not jump to conclusions, Jack thought, battling the urge to bolt and doing his best to appear calm. The others had noticed the man now too. Chase and Schneeple narrowed their eyes at him, while Jackaboy, Marvin, and Robbie tensed up, panic in their eyes.
“You shouldn’t be here.” the man said, holding onto the bar above the seats to support himself against the train’s movement. It struck Jack as odd that the man didn’t even say hello before jumping straight into conversation.
“Um…ok?” was all Jack could reply, his heart racing faster.
Brilliant answer there. Well done, Anti said.
“I know where you’re heading,” the man continued, “You’re heading to the first place you could think of. The only place that makes you feel safe. You’re heading home.”
Jack glanced at the others, who were all giving him the same look: he’s one of them. Jack looked back to the man.
“I’m not going to ask how you know all of this because I know exactly how. And I don’t want to cause a scene so all I’m going to ask is this: how did you us so fast?”
The man simply smiled in response.
“We have our ways,” he replied, “You lot may have shut down our entire computer systems, but we still have our ways of tracking you.”

The train suddenly slowed, eventually coming to a stop at another train station, situated in a tunnel like all the rest. The man looked out the window for a moment before turning back to the group as the doors opened once more.
“Looks like this is my stop.” He said, letting go of the bar he’d been holding onto and dusting down his suit, “Just a little point of advice before I go: we may be leaving you alone for now, but we’ve contacted some…friends of ours who will now be wanting to talk to you. Our company is bigger than you think.” With this, he turned to leave, before remembering something and turning back, “Enjoy your little field trip while it lasts. You’ll be back in our hands soon enough.”

And with this, he was gone, leaving Jack and the clones in stunned silence.

Well, Anti said at last in Jack’s mind, I told you this journey was going to be eventful.

***
A little while later, the train left the winding tunnels of the underground and Jack finally started to recognize his surroundings. A strange feeling began to wash over him, and he could feel himself tearing up. He would finally be going home. After all this time, he was finally free.
“You ok?” Jackaboy asked when he saw Jack’s tears. Chase was fast asleep beside him, snoring loudly.
“Y-yeah.” Jack replied, wiping his eyes as the tears fell, “It’s just…a bit overwhelming, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it.” Marvin said, “After so long, you’ll finally be able to see your family and friends again.”
“Do you zhink the police vill want to talk to you?” Schneeple asked.
“Probably,” Jack replied, “But we’ll deal with that when we get to it.”
“The next stop is Brighton.” A female voice said over the speaker, “Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.”
“Wake Chase up,” Jack said to Jackaboy, standing up and grabbing Robbie’s shirt collar to stop him from jumping out at the people getting off the train, “We’re here.”

***
After a short walk, Jack was finally back on a street he knew very well. Once he began to recognize houses, his walking speed increased, until eventually he was sprinting down the road with the clones running after him, grinning like an idiot. This is it, Jack, he thought, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for for a whole month.

But when he got to his apartment, instead of bursting through the door, Jack stopped dead, his smile fading. This sudden stop caused Chase to slam into the back of him.
“Dude, what the-” he started, until he saw what had caused Jack to stop.

There was a figure standing outside Jack’s apartment. But not just any figure, it was another clone. It had the same bright green hair as all the rest, but when it turned around, they noticed it had very dark blue eyes that seemed to glow. It was also wearing a brown tweed suit. There was a moment of silence until the Clone finally spoke.
“Jack. Septic. Eye. You are coming. With me.”
Jack’s eyes widened.
“I’m sorry…who are you?” Jack asked, hearing Robbie snarl at the newcomer behind his back.
The Clone narrowed its eyes.
“My name is S-3-4-N,” it replied in a robotic, monotone voice, “I was. Constructed. By the Intex branch in. Dublin, Ireland. My purpose is to. Bring you to them. Alive.”
Now it was Jack’s turn to narrow his eyes.
“Oh…really? And what about this lot?” He asked, motioning to the clones stood behind him. S-3-4-N cocked its head to the side for a moment before lifting its arm - which now had a bright red ball forming in its palm - and answering.
“These subjects are. Faulty. They must. Be terminated.”

CHAPTER 4: https://spiffanywolfe.tumblr.com/post/164450664703/one-and-the-same-a-jacksepticeye-and-egos-au

@egomaniac1998

@exclusively-inclusive

Candy, Kisses, & Elevator Sex (John x Reader x Alex)

A/N: Here’s my Valentine’s Day Special! Sorry it took so long, got into my writing zone and just couldn’t stop! Hope you enjoy!

You opened your eyes enjoying the feeling of refreshment that you didn’t usually get from just waking up. You snatched your phone off the bedside charger to check the time.

“CRAP!”

You overslept! Springing out of bed, you ripped off your pajamas as you bolted to the bathroom to get ready. Half an hour later you were dressed at least semi-well and running to catch the train to work. If you gave it your all you might be able to make it to work on time.

Panting for air, you held your travel cup of bitter black coffee in your hand and a pop tart in your other. They balanced in your grip as the station came into your sights. Just a few blocks away, the heel of one of your pumps caught itself on a crack in sidewalk and made you crash onto the cement. It was food and drink massacre.

The frosting from the pop tart smeared on the sleeve of your coat. The force of the tumble popped the top off your mug and coffee spilled everywhere. Your knees and palms had been scraped and bruised along with your ego.

Getting back on your feet, you found that your heel was finished. Limping the rest of the blocks to the station, you purchased a ticket and struggled up the stairs to the boarding platform before the train arrived.

You slumped in the farthest corner of the train and sighed wondering if the day could get any worse. Then your phone vibrated.

It was a text from your boyfriend, Sam. He must sent you a Happy Valentine’s Day text message. He was so sweet. You unlocked your phone to look at the message, excited that it must be about your plans for tonight. He said he had a surprise for you!

Sammy Sea-bunny:

Salutations (Y/N). I’m sorry to inform you that I have fallen in love with someone else. I’m regret that I couldn’t tell you in person. Hope we can still be friends.

You stared at your phone. The pain in your knees and palms from your fall overshadowed by the pain you were feeling in your heart. You couldn’t believe it. You already made reservations at an exclusive resort in California for your vacation in June. You had planned to London for his birthday. You quickly replied back.

You:

Eat a dick, asshole.

You silenced your phone and shoved it into the deepest part of your purse. It was all too much for you to take especially on a day without your daily coffee and breakfast. One more thing and you’d lose it. You just needed to make it through one work day and later you can cry over a glass of wine and your emergency chocolate stash.

Standing in front of the silver elevator doors in your bare feet, you waited impatiently for the doors to open. About two blocks into your walk from the train station, you decided to forsake your heels and go bare foot because it was better than limping around. Luckily you kept an extra pair of sandals in your desk that would get you through the day. You didn’t have any client meetings and had just treated yourself to a pedicure, so your feet looked fabulous.

The doors finally opened and a bunch of people pushed past you. You stepped in and pressed the button for the fiftieth floor. Behind you came in two younger men. One pushed a cart full of dozens of assorted floral bouquets and Valentine’s baskets. You glanced from one handsome face to the next. Ugh.

They were attractive to say the least. Nice features, full lips, young faces, slender bodies, and it looked like they had some well-defined muscles underneath their clothes. You licked your lips and looked away. Not like you wanted anything to do with the male species ever again, but looking didn’t count right?

The taller one and the one close to you were dressed in jeans and blue t-shirts, his jacket tied around his slender waist. He pushed the button for the sixtieth floor and met your eye. He gave you a small smirk like he knew you were staring. You scowled in reply, looking at the doors in front of you. Screw pretty boys and the rest of their kind.

Out of the corner of your eye you could spot him looking you over. You quickly felt the urge to explain why you were carrying your shoes but pushed it away. You didn’t need to explain yourself to anyone, especially two guys in a elevator.

You sighed and closed your eyes as the elevator began to move up. Soon you’d be in your cubicle, put on your flip-flops, and get some high calorie sugar treat and crappy coffee from the vending machine area. The guys behind you were talking about something, but you were honestly too busy thinking about whether to get a cinnamon bun and powdered donuts when a strange screeching sound came from above. The three of them looked at each other that sound was obviously not normal. Then, came a loud clicking followed by one weird bang and then elevator completely halted.

“What the hell was that?!” said the short guy. He walked over and pressed his floor button a few times.

“I don’t know but it doesn’t sound good,” said his friend. His hands buried in his jean pockets as he leaned into the corner of the elevator, legs crossed nervously. He wore the same blue t-shirt with matching logo on the front. Same as the other guy. You could make out the design more clearly now. Washington Floral Co. That was the local flower shop a few blocks over. You had seen their bouquets in the building before.

“Please don’t tell me we’re stuck in here,” you whispered. You walked over to the control panel. “Of all days, why’d it have to do today?” You pressed the emergency call button.

A voice came over the speaker. “Peggy here.”

“Hello. Um… I think the elevator stopped.”

“Can you tell me which one miss?”

You looked at the two boys but they both shrugged their shoulders.

“Uh… the one not moving. Isn’t there some kind of master panel or something?” You asked, rubbing your forehead. “I think it’s the middle one on the left, maybe. Or it could be the right?”

“Alright, I’ll contact maintenance and get someone on it. Sit tight. We’ll have you out in a jiffy~.”

“I hope they hurry up. We’ve got a ton of deliveries to make today,” said the short guy as he flung his jacket onto the bottom of the cart. He ran a hand through his dark locks and you wondered at how it was possible for it to look even better tousled. “John, better call Mrs.W, tell her what’s going on.”

John dialed up whoever Mrs.W was and turned to face the far wall for privacy. Which wasn’t really that private since they were trapped in an elevator. You caught sight of his firm backside and did a double take. Following along his waist up to his shoulders where his t-shirt was stretched taut by the muscles in his back, curving over his shoulders and hugging the muscles in his arms. He had a nice swimmers body type. Your stomach flipped and you snapped your head away.

You tried to focus on playing on your phone instead, looking at the time. Only five minutes had passed. Everything was being handled right? They’d be out in fifteen minutes tops, right? You took a deep breath and jammed your hands in your pockets hoping the rescue would come fast.

Twenty more minutes went by and Peggy’s voice finally came back. “Hello ma’am?”

You rushed up to talk near the mic. Not that you needed to but it felt awkward just talking into air. “I’m here.”

“It’s going to be a little longer than we thought. Seems there a computer malfunction and we have to get the tech guys. It’ll be awhile.”

“Peggy?” You waited for her to reply but got nothing. “Peggy! How long is awhile?”

“I’d say at least an hour or two. However, traffic is pretty bad today. Could be three.”

“Three hours!”

“Sorry ma’am. You got company or are you by yourself?”

You looked at the two boys. “There’s two other people in here with me. But don’t you have cameras?”

“Yep, but they’ve been out of order for weeks now. Some parts on back order. Always something isn’t it?” she laughed.

You on the other hand didn’t feel like laughing one bit. You backed up to the elevator’s wall and dropped to the floor, looking at the small square you were trapped in. The walls were closing in, seeming to get thinner. Three hours. You would have to sit here for three whole hours at the least. The events of the day hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You buried your face in your hands and that’s when the flood gates broke. A slow trickle at first, until both eyes gushed salty tears and you sat there sobbing into your hurt hands.

“Hey now. Being in an elevator with the two of us isn’t all that bad, is it?” said a voice from the other side of the room.

You gave sniffle, peeking between the strands of hair that cascaded in front of your eyes. The tall one in the corner had sat down as well and was scooting up closer to you. Oh my gosh!

You had finally reached rock bottom, crying your eyes out in a elevator in front of two hot guys. Squeezing your eyes tight and hiding your face more, wishing you could just disappear.

“Are you okay,” he asked, gently touching your leg and quickly looked up. You saw his deep brown eyes and freckles staring at you, through those sweet dark lashes, worried. “We won’t be in here forever you know.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that.”

You pulled up the text from Sam, holding it out for the stranger to see.

“Holy shit.” He gave your leg a firm squeeze. “I’m so sorry. That sucks and today of all days.”

“What sucks?” Alex knelt down next to them and freckles showed him the phone. “Woah. That’s a crappy way to start the day, huh?”

“You have no idea,” you said, telling them about the rest of your morning.

“So that’s the reason you weren’t wearing shoes. I’m Alex by the way and this big lug is John. We deliver for the florist not too far from here to help out with college expenses.”

“(Y/N). I work in the building. Shouldn’t you have classes now?”

“Yeah, but we’re skipping because we make a shit-ton of cash on Valentine’s Day.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I bet.”

Alex’s eyebrows creased. “Listen, don’t worry about that Sam-I-Am guy. You got it goin’ on and deserve way better than that ass.”

You blushed, never could take a compliment.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you first walked in and I was so nervous when you caught me.”

“Stop it,” You giggled. “But thanks.”

“I have an idea,” said John, his eyes sparkling with playfulness.

“This guy has the best ideas.”

“Let’s see what Miss floor 60 has in one of her baskets?”

“No way! We can’t do that!” You protested.

“Don’t worry about it,” said John, waving you off.

“She has most of the cart. Besides our boss will give the guy a refund. Say it was a delivery problem because of an elevator problem. Which is technically right.” He smiled, sporting two dimples on either side of his smile. He must of got a lot of tips with that smile.

“She must be a pret-ty busy woman,” said John with a huge grin.

You looked at the cart full of sweets and swallowed. Then you looked at the two men across from you, heat traveling down your body. You decided to ignore it by fiddling with your skirt.

Alex jumped up and walked over to the cart, scanning over the gifts that Miss 60 received. “This one.” He held up a basket. There was nothing special or fancy about the packaging. It appears to be the simplest one. “No card and nothing special about it, she’ll never notice it’s gone.”

The two guys ripped open the basket packaging like kids on Christmas. You shook your head as they pulled out some of the stuff inside.

John picked up a bottle of champagne from the basket. “Looks like we have something to drink!” He tore off the gold wrapping and popped the cork with ease. The basket didn’t include glasses, so the three of you had to make do without. John held out the bottle to you. “Ladies first, of course.”

You took it and raised it up. “Cheers and Happy Valentine’s Day to us.”

Putting the bottle to your mouth and letting the liquid glide down your throat. You passed it off to John, brushing fingertips in the exchange. Pleasure tingled between your legs. Your eyes met and a slow smile curved his lips making your nipples tighten. What was happening? You had gotten dumped, then two guys come along, and you were all in an extremely enclosed space.

John took three swigs, licking his lips as he looked at you, and then handed the bottle to Alex, who pulled out a box of chocolates. “Anyone up for some free chocolate?”

“Yes please.” You raised your hand. Finally you’d get some food in you.

Alex was about to pass the box to you but John put a hand in front to stop him. He leaned over and whispered something in Alex’s ear. You couldn’t hear but Alex nodded and grinned as they whispered to each other, then they turned to you.

“Sooo, you can have a chocolate, but you have to close your eyes.” Alex stated with a waggle of his brows. Suddenly the temperature seemed to spike as your mouth went dry.

“What the—? No way I’m closing my eyes.” You crossed your arms and leaned back against wall, trying hard to ignore the waves of excitement that flooded your body.

“Come on. Live a little.” John dangled piece of chocolate in front of your face.

“You. Are. So. Bad.” You bit your lip. “Give me that champagne.”

You held out your palm and Alex passed the bottle to you. Wrapping your lips around the bottle and gulping down two more mouthfuls.

“What’s wrong with being bad?” asked John innocently, popping a chocolate into his mouth. “Makes games more fun and if you don’t like our game, you can stop. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

John crossed the left side of his chest, making you wonder what his chest looked like under that fitted t-shirt and your heart sped up.

“But I must give you a word of warning, we’ve never met anyone that hasn’t appreciated any one of our games~”

You could feel the wetness between your legs grow. Head swimming with all your ideas of what kind of games these two wanted to play? “So you two often play games together?”

A smile spread across John’s freckled face, knowing what was running through your mind. “Only with the special ones.”

You followed the length of John’s body as he stretched out in front of you, admiring the way his shirt curved over his arms and clung to the tight body, how the denim of his jeans placed low on his waist and your eyes nearly popped out at the bulge straining in his pants. A rush of electricity surged through you as your eyes darted back to his cute face. “A-And you’re considering me special?”

“Today, we want to treat you like a Queen,” said Alex as he sat up on his heels.

Too excited, you couldn’t resist anymore. “So, what do I have to do?”

“While your eyes are closed, you have to guess the right flavor inside of the chocolate,” replied John nonchalantly.

“What do I get if I’m right?”

“Heh… if you’re right, Alex or I, depending on who you got the chocolate from, will have to take off an article of clothing. But… if you’re wrong… you do.” John smiled again like before, like he knew just how hard you wanted him. By chance, he moved his hand to adjust himself and your eyes carefully eying his body and movements.

Alex leaned over, closer to you and grabbing the champagne bottle that sat in your lap and took a gulp. The air suddenly became heated as the three of you sat there and looked from one to another. You couldn’t believe you were doing this!

You were about to play strip chocolate game with probably the most attractive guys you’d ever been in a room with. Your vanilla sex life was about to end.

You took a deep breath to try and calm yourself. “Okay, I’ll play.”

“Sweet,” Alex exclaimed and sat up straight.

“Me first,” said John, grabbing a chocolate and crawling over to you on his knees holding the piece of chocolate in one hand. “Now, close your eyes.”

You couldn’t hide your blush, closing your eyes tightly and waiting to feel the chocolate on your lips. You felt the pressure of something smooth along your lips and opened your mouth, tasting the minty richness of chocolate on your taste buds as the small piece entered your mouth followed by the touch of soft warm lips on yours. John’s lips. He had bitten off half of the chocolate and given you the other half. The chocolate began to melt in your mouth as his lips lingered on yours and his body hovered over you. Your body trembling from just one teeny kiss.

You opened your eyes as John backed away, his eyes half-libbed and swimming with desire. “So, what flavor?”

“…what?…” Oh, right, you had to guess the flavor. You chewed and swallowed the rest of tasty treat. “Easy one. Mint.”

John grinned. “That’s right.”

He wasted no time pulling off his t-shirt. You lost all ability to function. He was slender but his abdominal muscle clearly defined. You just wanted to reach out and brush your fingertips along in his slim frame.

You watched as his eyes flickered down to your chest and back to your face. That’s when you realized the show you were giving the two of them the entire time. Your nipples were tiny mountains against the soft fabric of your thin bra since you rejected the one with padding this morning and they had made their presence know under your red silk blouse.

You snatched the champagne away from Alex. You had a desire to just pour it over John’s chest and lick off every yummy drop but pushed that idea away.

“Time for my shot,” sung Alex already in front of you, the chocolate between his teeth.

“You are nonstop,” You said, wiping some champagne from the side of your mouth.

He pulled the chocolate out of his mouth with his fingers. “Yep, I’ve been told that a few times. Now, close your eyes.”

You closed your eyes again but secretly peeked a bit, watching as Alex crawled up to you and raised his face up to yours, delicately sliding his hands up the back of your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He was floating so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his body on yours. Shit, he was so sexy. You felt like you were losing your mind. You were so turned on that you just wanted to jump the two boys and eat them up like chocolate.

Alex finally pressed his lips to yours, sliding the chocolate into your mouth. Soft. Creamy. Delicate. Alex plunged his tongue in afterward and crushed a kiss against your mouth, leaving you hot and breathless. He pulled away, his eyes darkened with lust.

“What did you think?”

Your cheeks were still burning from the kiss, but you managed to respond. “Delectable. Cherry is one of my favorite flavors. You lose.”

John laughed. “She got you, man.”

Alex chuckled, looking you directly in the eyes as he pulled off his shirt without breaking contact. You caught a sniff of his body spray as he threw his shirt into the other corner. The scent filled your nose and you wanted it all over your body, covering you, him covering you. The throbbing between your legs intensified and the magnetic pull you felt from each man as they went back and forth was dizzying.

“Alright, alright, time for the second round and it’s going to get a lot harder.” John shook the box of chocolates in hand mixing them up.

Harder? That’s exactly what you wanted. “Prepare to lose.”

Alex grinned, peering into the box since John already chose his piece. “Confident, are you? Then how about this. Round two is double or nothing.”

The boys looked at you for approval.

“Why not,” you said with a shrug. “I’ve still got all my clothes on.”

“Okay, but I just want to make sure you’re good with this,” he said, his face and voice serious.

“Fellas, I am so good with this right now you couldn’t comprehend it.”

Alex beamed. “Double or nothing then.”

John placed the chocolate between his pearly whites and began to crawl toward you except this time you decided to meet him halfway. You faced each other on your knees, leaning up and biting off half of the chocolate in his mouth. You sucked the piece into your mouth and let it melt on your tongue. John was right, it was harder. Peanut? Macadamia? Almond? Walnut? You weren’t really a fan of nuts, so you had no idea.

John leaned over to place a gentle kiss over your lips. Welcoming him, you threw your arms over his shoulders. Your tongues exploring each other’s mouths as his hands traveled down your back and pulled you close.

He pressed his hips into yours and the feel of his cock against you almost cost you the game. The friction between your thighs was so much that you’d need release soon but they weren’t actually going to finish you off in the elevator, right?

John pulled away from the kiss but still kept his lips on yours.

“Flavor?” he asked, his lips against yours, his breath hot on your face. Your mind was to mushy to register for a second, feeling drunk on chocolate and kisses.

“Um…Almond?”

He cocked his half-smile again. “Nope. You. Lose.”

You went completely red. John didn’t back away and Alex didn’t look away. “A deal’s a deal, I guess.”

You couldn’t believe your were going to take your shirt off in an elevator. One by one you undid the simple buttons on your blouse, sliding it off your shoulders and letting it fall away. You were relieved that you wore a newer bra.

“That’s one piece,” you panted. John put his hands behind his back, looking like he couldn’t stop from touching you.

Now you could do the teasing. Unzipping your skirt, pushing it down your hips, pass your thighs, and to your knees. You looked at both of them noticing how they were intensely staring.

Standing back upright you faced John. “I still have another turn.”

Wordless, John moved to the side to let you pass. You looked at Alex who had placed the chocolate between his lips and patted his stomach, motioning you to straddle him. You rubbed your sweaty palms on your thighs, making them burn more. You situated yourself onto him and bit down on the chocolate. Leaning more onto Alex, pressing chest to chest, face to face, the boner beneath his jeans hard and protruding.

“Cinnamon,” you mumbled.

“Correct.”

With you still on top, Alex slid off his pants and then his boxers. The only thing between you was the thin fabric of your panties that you were pretty sure are soaked by now due to the last round.

“So…um… who won?”

Alex got up to his knees and knelt in front of you. His hard cock, brushing against your thigh. You couldn’t help yourself, dropping your eyes to peek down, wanting to know what he’d been hiding. His slim physique did not do him justice!

So long and thick, you just wanted to reach out and stroke it, lick across the smooth skin and make him beg for more.

“Is there ever really a loser in stripping games?” John asked.

You laughed, shaking your head. Biting your lip, asking the question that weighed desperately on your mind.

“So… how far can the game go?”

Alex lifted your chin with an index finger. “As far as you want Queen (Y/N).”

"Why didn’t you say that in the first place! Game over!” You exclaimed, wrapping a hand around Alex’s cock and the other around his neck, plunging him into a deep kiss. He passionately kissed back, enveloping your mouth, tangling with your tongue. Then you felt the hands of someone else behind you.

John knelt behind you, kissing the tender area of your ear, sending currents of pleasure down your body.

“Which of us do you prefer? Have a favorite?” he asked.

You looked at him from over your shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s like asking me to choose between apple pie or cinnamon rolls. I just can’t. Do I have to pick?”

John pressed a kissed to your lips in reply. Feeling behind you, scrambling with trying to unbutton his jeans, anxious to get them off. Meanwhile, Alex quickly busied himself with your breasts. Taking off your bra, rolling your nipples between his fingers, licking at the hard buds, making sure to give them equal attention.

John finally removed his jeans and boxers, his cock sprung from the fabric prison and slid along your backside causing little waves of heat to follow. Reaching his hand around, he slipped two fingers into you.

“You are so wet.”

Your pussy felt like it was on fire. You moaned as John made little circles with his finger on your clit. Alex moved his head to take one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking and rolling it with his tongue. You arched against John as he stroked your slit and Alex played with your breasts.

“Fuck,” you grunted, grasping Alex’s shoulders for support, your pelvis bouncing on John’s hand.

John came out from behind you, placing his shirt on the floor and laying you on it.

“Have you ever been with two men before,” he asked lustfully.

“No,” you panted. Alex gently slid his jacket under your head and kissed the top of your nose as John placed himself between your legs. You shivered in anticipation.

He spread your legs wide and gave you a smile before burying his tongue in your fold. Fixing his mouth around your mound and plunging deep inside. You gasped and squirmed at the intense pleasure that blew through your body. Alex sucked on your bottom lip while John played with your pussy.

Moaning at how Alex devoured your mouth, while John plunged and greedily licked your folds and thrust his fingers inside you, slowly, achingly pumping in and out.

Spreading your legs more and arching your pelvis, you grabbed Alex by the neck and pulled his face to yours, twisting your hands in his dark locks. You were so close!

You felt the tension build up in your groin, desperately wanting relief. Pulling away from Alex’s mouth you moaned thirstily.

"More…Don't…Please…Need…”

John popped his head up. “Trade places!”

Before you knew it John had spun you by the legs toward Alex. You quickly felt the warmth of Alex’s two smaller hands as he raised your hips up and pulled you against his skillful mouth. He vigorously devoured you again.

He moved faster and wilder than John, alternating between finger and tongue, between circles and broad strokes, up and down.

“Alex!” You bucked and screamed his name.

Your hips thrust up and you went for his head but John blocked with a passionate kiss, encasing you in his arms. You fell back trapped in John’s embrace. White haze appearing behind your eyelids as the tension built up in your stomach. Your body wiggling and breath completely out in short pants.

“Ahhh…” You moaned into John’s kiss.

John broke away. “Hold up. Not yet.”

Alex gave one more hard lick to your entrance before lifting his head. Panting you could only lay there and mewl.

“What?… No… don’t stop.”

John knelt in front of you, that familiar grin back on his face, his eyes drilling into you. “I saw you licking your lips earlier.”

His eyes flashed to his cock then back up to you.

Finally! Readily crawling closer to him on all fours, grasping his cock with both hands. You licked the salty cum from the tip, taking more into your mouth. His cock was big, one of the biggest ones you’ve ever had the pleasure of blowing so you couldn’t hold yourself back from working all the way down his length till he reached the back of your throat.

John’s head fell back, his eyes shut tight as he gave a carnal hiss. You mentally smiled to yourself. John tangled a hand in your hair and held your shoulder with the other as Alex placed himself next to you, his warm palms massaging your bare butt.

He positioned his cock at your entrance, gripping your waist, and thrusting inside you, finally filling you. You squealed around John’s cock, tongue circling the cock. Alex pumped in and out, rocking you back and forth on John’s cock. Alex picked up the pace and you sucked harder. Getting off on how you could give pleasure and get pleasure at the same time.

Alex hit that spot deep within you that sent a huge tremor of pleasure through you and made stars appear in your vision. To make it better Alex reached around and stroked your clit while he pounded into you. His hand moved rapidly and wildly. The three of you built up a thread of stress that was about to snap. HARD!

Airy grunts, gasps, and the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the cramped elevator. You were lost in the pleasure and passion of the moment.

John hardened his grip on your shoulder. “I’m going to come.”

You reached up and played with his balls, making his entire body shudder with a few more thrusts before discharging the salty warmth of his orgasm into your mouth. You still kept sucking eagerly on his cock, wanting to prolong the moment.

John pulled your hands up to his shoulders as Alex continued to finger your clit and fuck you from behind. The feeling getting stronger than any you had ever experienced before. Digging your fingers into John’s shoulders. You were going to come!

“Oh, hell yes!”

“I love to hear you say that,” Alex breathed heavily as he continued his motions. Your body began to tremble and tighten around his cock as he came inside you. Your body exploded like little tiny riffles that blew through your body, exploding in different directions, and everything else melting away.

When you came back, the three of you collapsed in a tangle of naked arms and legs and bodies.

John kissed your forehead and Alex kissed your neck.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” They said together.

You smiled and cuddled closer to them. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

John planted another kiss on your lips as Alex lightly smacked your ass.

You froze when static erupted from the speaker on the button panel.

“Hello Ma’am?”

You quickly got up. “Y—Yes?”

“Sorry for the wait. There was trouble fixing it. Luckily the fire department is on their way to get you guys out of there and will be there in a few.”

“A few!” The three of you jumped up. “Thanks a lot!”

Racing to put on your clothes already able hear the noises coming from above. Getting the last button on your shirt just as the scraping of metal on metal came from above.

The door in the elevator ceiling was being removed and a head poked itself through. You quickly checked yourself, making sure nothing looked off.

John and Alex were clothed but a little flushed and sweaty. Did you look as sweaty as them? John inched his way over to you and fixed the back of your skirt with that mischievous grin of his. You bit the inside of your cheek, desperately hoping that the fireman wouldn’t figure you out.

“Ladies go first. We’ll send down the ladder and you two help her on up, okay?”

“Yes sir,” they answered in unison.

The ladder came down and you looked to the both of them. No time to give them a proper good bye.

“You’re one special woman. That Sam guy is an absolute idiot,” said Alex raking a hand through his hair.

“Hope the rest of your day is fit for a Queen,” said John, swallowing and looking like he could go another ten rounds. You bit your lip, the tingling between your legs and grew damp again.

You kissed each of their hands and put one to each of their mouths.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. Turning and stepping on the first rung of the wiggly ladder. Alex and John placed hands on your hips to balance you as ascended. Making it up a few rungs before halting.

“Sorry!” You held up a finger. “I need minute,” You called up to the waiting fireman.

You hopped down and faced Alex and John. “I was just wondering if you two had any plans for the first week of June?”

The guys looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders, looking back at you curiously.

“Any chance you’re both interested in a summer vacation to Cali? I already have reservations for two…but since some asshole won’t be going anymore… I’m sure I can add one more. Maybe make up another game or two over there?”

“I’ll start packing,” said John. Excitement dancing in his beautiful brown eyes, knowing he was already starting to create new games in his mind.

“I prefer the right side of the bed,” commented Alex, a snarky grin sealing the deal.

“Perfect.” Sticking your business card in each of their back pockets, giving them both a slap on the ass while you were back there, and then made your way back up the ladder.

When you got out of the elevator shaft your boss was waiting for you to give you the rest of the day off. She must have felt bad for you and you weren’t going to refuse a day off. You headed back to the train station with a skip in your step, but not without stopping by a small cafe where you got the richest highest calorie counting coffee and pastry on the menu. You sat at table still shoeless, sipping and eating. Suddenly your phone went off.

You got a text from John and Alex, asking if you’d be interested in getting some drinks later tonight and meet some of their ‘friends’. Looks like your Valentine’s Day was just getting started.

Mario Kart (Jared Kleinman X Reader)

Request: hi!! can you do a story where jared and the reader are like best friends and she stays over at his house and somehow they start talking and he accidentally tells her that hes insecure and she tells him that hes perfect and then they tell each other their feelings?

Yo,,,jared kleinman,,best friends admitting their feelings,,,,insecurity+comforting,,,,And A Sleepover?? This is the ultimate request thank u

Word Count: 1286

Warnings: some swearing, because when do i ever write anything without swearing in it lmao

Requests: open!!


You were at your best friend’s house after midterms, kicking off your much-too-short winter break with video games. You and Jared were sat on the floor in his room, a half empty box of pizza in between the two of you when your phone vibrated. You picked it up, barely glancing away from the tv screen to see who texted you when you sighed.

“Pause the game, it’s my mom.” You said, and Jared did just that, dropping his controller in his lap to take another slice of pizza as you unlocked your phone.

From: Mother Unit

Are you on your way home?

You looked to the top of your phone screen, seeing it was half past ten-and your curfew is at 11.

“Fuck, sorry Jared I’ve gotta get going, mom’ll kill me if I break curfew again,” You said, starting to stand up when Jared grabbed your wrist.

“No wait don’t go!” He said, before he let go of your wrist and cleared his throat. “I-I mean, my parents love you, the night is still young, you can just sleep over, i-if you want,”

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Stutterin’ Pete {Pt. 5} -Peter Parker x Reader-

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 

Part 5! 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter’s alter-ego starts to interfere with his relationship with you. Now, neither have you have proposed being exclusive but you couldn’t help feeling jealous and driving yourself crazy over the suspicions that Peter, wherever he was, wasn’t alone. This leads you to blow up on him, leaving him in the dust and very confused. It takes a visit from the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man to truly open your eyes. Patching things up with Peter was easy, it felt great but duct tape only lasts so long.

You also become increasingly aware that Peter, Ned and Michelle would be going to DC soon for the Decathlon Finals. There was one other person that would be going on this trip.. Liz Allan. A girl Peter has been very open about being into since you were kids. Liz’s interactions with Peter start to become more frequent, your fearful brain suspects she has seduced Peter and he had given into his childhood crush. Despite whatever it was that had been going on between the two of you.

Warnings?: This part is probably going to be long.. There’s talking about injuries, swearing and maybe/definitely some fluff. ;)

Originally posted by tomftholland

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Ned asked fiddling with Peter’s mask. “She would probably understand.” He added. 

“No, no, no.” He said turning his desk chair around to face Ned still holding the small screwdriver in his hand he was been using to tinker with one of his web shooters. “If Y/N knew about this she would be so angry with me. She would worry too much” He said gesturing to the red and blue suit that was laying on the bed next to Ned. 

“I don’t see why you suddenly need Y/N’s approval anyways. It’s not like you guys are together.” 

We aren’t.” Peter said feeling his heart hammer against his chest feeling as if it was going to thump right out. He turned his back to Ned again trying to hide his blush that he knew was spilling onto his cheeks. “It’s just… You know so I figure it would only be fair if I told her why I’ve been such a flake.” He shrugged his shoulders “But then I realized that just because I’ve known her as long as you and… I trust her, that doesn’t necessarily mean I need to share my secret identity with everyone. You found out by accident so thats almost justified.” 

“And who told you not to tell anyone?” Ned asked. 

“…Mr. Stark.” Peter said 

“Oh… You mean Tony ‘I am Iron Man’ Stark?” He asked Peter paused realizing that Ned had made a good point.

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t have Mr. Stark’s money to have security following me and people I care about. What happens if one of my enemies goes after those closest to me?” He asked 

“What enemies? The fake Avengers from the other night?” 

“Okay fine, future enemies.” Peter grumbled rolling his eyes. 

“Don’t get grumpy with me. It was your idea to tell her and also you that told me it was a bad idea minutes later.” Ned quipped. Peter sighed. 

“You’re right… It’s just… I hate all the lying.” He said 

“I know, man. You’re doing a good thing though. Protecting your family and stuff. Very heroic of you.” He said smirking. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Ned.” Peter said but they both started to laugh. 

Keep reading

Read, Be Smart, Be Human.


The modern internet-bazaar mediated an unfathomable amount of human interaction compared to everything that previously existed in our history. This meeting place of different ideas lifted the veil of ignorance from our tribal mythological mindsets. As a consequence we’re seeing ourselves as never before, the strange and different men and women from other cultures are starting to appear.. human, like us. And it’s not that “we begin to see our rights”, but we see that we transcend the concept all together.. We are Nature, we don’t need “rights” to be given by anybody! We cannot be kept on “private land” anymore, at the landowner’s discretion and whims. We begin to see that we are IT, we are the land, we are the sky.. Albeit worn out, the figurative “waking up” is exactly what’s happening to us.

This internet-bazaar is also the greatest tool of social data gathering. Opinion polls, search engines, statistics, they show the temperature of humanity in perfect detail and in real time. But this is not a “mirror” in which society could see itself and profit, building confidence at its beautiful features, harmonise its movements or able to correct its bad posture. This is a secret private keyhole through which a select few have discretionary access. Once ago the ones that knew the ocean currents and the trade winds were able to exploit them to great benefit, but today the greatest energetic flow to be taken advantage of is that of human mind. Just look around you, the whole surface of the earth was reshaped by abstract mind like no other geological force ever did in such a short period of time. Humanity is like a great unconscious beast whose powerful movements are made use of by the tiniest of parasites. The sudden signs of awakening given off by the great beast, starting to see itself and see its potential to move for its own interest,have been promptly noted. And the parasites are having none of it!

Those who are at the top are as ignorant and savage as those that are at the very bottom. The latter from the lack of education, affection, food and constant malaise, and the former from the putrid environment of overindulgence mixed with the lack of moral fiber one develops from a detached life. Behind exclusive suits and ties.. just prosaic aggressive apes with an attitude, having this newly installed thing called “ego” driving them with perfect authority. And this makes them the most deranged clique of all, desperate for power, needing duality, self and “other”, needing subjects under their mighty boot. They only feel good in a primitive cast system. The biggest enemy of all such parasites is democracy, real democracy not “representative democracy” which proved itself to be the same old autocracy who at the end of a few revolutions decided to ditch its pompous attire for a casual outfit and blend in with the angry crowds. Consequently, the biggest enemy of all important decision-makers on this planet is a flourishing educated humankind!

Our current official and unofficial agencies of power are all having a vested interest in fractionating society and its means of coalescing, so that the pyramid of rule never gets dismantled and redistributed democratically (as any sane and modern society should be). They want to keep us apart and busy with fearing each-other.

How best can you break the wings of education, democracy and equality than parsing the human-cattle, inventing and nurturing tribal mindsets and conflicts among them. Russia is again in conflict with the US, England is rejecting the EU, China is menacing SE Asia and the US, tensions mount around the recently opened northern corridors between Canada, Russia, Norway and others, “terrorism” is used everywhere to take away the rights of citizens, restrict borders and heighten the means of surveillance. “What the fuck happened with humans?” one might ask..

Make no naive mistake, all these hostilities are NOT of the russian, american, syrian or european people. It’s the local parasites! And there are NO such things as uncalculated actions “done in anger” either. These are precise purposeful moves that have NOTHING to do with the interest of the people, nor the will of the people. Just as the former Cold War proved, “conflict” is the greatest excuse to control your own citizens! Conflict suits perfectly the establishments on either side, be they corporate-congress and communist party, military-industrial complex and the arabic state, or the fascists and oligarchs. Conflict blows their authority out of proportion! And while they indulge in greatly increased powers, the people on both sides are willingly renouncing their privileges, kissing the feet of their “protectors” for keeping away the dangerous.. people. Now, guess what the people on the other side are doing? War is how the biggest business on Earth gets made.

If we take the families of all those brave presidents, politicians, army generals and businessmen that provoke these high-cost conflicts, and put them in the frontline of pain and misery, would these conflicts still be “unavoidable”? Just think about the mighty triumphant Trump having to run with a rifle on the battlefield.. All US conflicts would turn into cooperation, or at least diplomatic settlements in a matter of weeks.

With the current sociologic, logistical, technological, computational, statistical, communicational, data-gathering means that Humanity has, the eradication of terrorism, poverty, illiteracy and political strife between nations would be a thing accomplished in decades. Alas.. this would be the nightmare of all parasites! Including those that guzzle on your back.

The politico-economic elites rode the wave of globalization exploiting everything they could out of it, at the expense of the populations who endured the lowering of wages, unemployment and other hardships, and now the same elites are preparing to ride the wave of anti-globalization.. again, extracting everything out of it at the expense of the people. 

It isn’t the world that’s gone crazy, it’s the elites who are playing desperate and deranged games, clinging to the primitive feudalism that guarantees their power. We are not identifying and fighting a certain “elite” here, we’re fighting the petty aggressive animal ignorance that manifests at the very top of humanity, in every structure of upmost decisional power, from politics to courts of international law, big business and religion.

With our modern scientific, technological and other cultural means we would be able to witness for the first time in history Humanity having sovereignty over itself. You can be part of that by just bringing your focus on it. Start with the interesting and informative talk in the link above.


Image: The New Yorker

Secrets

A/N: This is for @yourtropegirl​. It’s probably not exactly what you might have been imagining, but I tried.


Expert Witness. It was a nerve wracking title but you were up for a challenge! And that is how you had come to meet ADA Rafael Barba.

To say he was obnoxious would be an understatement. But for some reason, beyond your comprehension, you felt butterflies in your stomach whenever he spoke. Having worked with Mr. Barba on several cases, you realized that there was more to the man than just his big brass … ego. His snappy suspenders and suave suits certainly swayed your decision to make a move.

“Mr. Barba!” you called as Rafael closed his briefcase and walked out of courtroom.

He turned and smiled, “nice work today!”

Being on the receiving end of a genuine Rafael Barba smile was quite the delightful experience. You stared at Rafael, suddenly at a loss for words. What had he just said?

“Are you alright?” you heard Rafael say.

“Yes, yes, sorry Mr. Barba. I just … had a moment,” you laughed nervously.

“Don’t we all!”

Keep reading

Off Limits (Skam - Chris x OC) Part 2

Pairing: Chris x OC

Synopsis: Mara Magnusson has always had everything she ever wanted in life, except for one thing. The boyish charm of her brother’s childhood friend had wrecked her poor heart and ruined her for any other guy – you can trust her, she has tried. She could see the way he looked at her, though she knew there were rules about not hitting on your best friend’s little sister. Luckily for her, there were no restrictions when it was the other way around.

Word count: 1.5k

MASTERLIST

Part 1 <<< >>> Part 3

Chris’ relationship with Mara had always been a complex one. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that it would be better to simply consider her as his own little sister, he couldn’t erase what attraction he felt toward his best friend’s little sister. She was one year younger than them, but it’s true what they say: girls mature quicker than boys.

He kept his distance when he could and played it off as the big brother kind of concern when he couldn’t stay away from her. When her first boyfriend broke up with her and she came home crying to Chris and William playing video game. When she drank too much at a party and started getting touchy with strangers. Or when she was going out to a party and her dress was so short both he and William let out a sharp comment and told her to get changed – as if it was any of their business in the first place. The thing is, Chris’ concern was justified most of the time, but the most significant difference between William’s brotherly worry and Chris’ unease upon seeing Mara dress like she was going on a man-hunt was the motivation behind it.

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Hanzo User Manual

Hello! Congratulations on purchasing your very own Hanzo™ unit. This will be your manual on the care and maintenance of your unit. Take proper care of your Hanzo™ unit and he will be a wonderful companion for all your needs.

What Comes in the Box:

-1 Hanzo™ Unit
-1 Storm Bow
-Somehow an infinite amount of arrows
-1 Hair Scarf
-1 Drinking Gourd

Customization: Hanzo™ normally comes with a default skin, but you are able to customize the unit before or after you receive him. If you know what custom skin you would like ahead of time, you can put which skin you’d like in the customization box. If later you decide that you would like to change his skin, call a representative and they would gladly help you through the process. You do have to pay for shipping and handling if you want to customize after you receive your unit.

Skins available:Default, Azuki, Kinoko, Midori, Sora, Cloud, Dragon, Demon (exclusive), Young Hanzo, Young Master, Lone Wolf, and Okami.

Turning On Your Unit For the First Time: Hanzo’s™ power button is located in his hair. He will turn on when you tie it up with the scarf provided. After you have turned him on, allow him to boot up and download any available updates. You will know that he is done when his tattoo starts to glow. At this time, introduce yourself as his master.

If he does not recognize you as his master and starts spouting on about how he is a Shimada, just simply so a reset on him by telling him that Genji forgives him. If not heard from Genji himself, he will go into shock and reset. If this does not work, please contact Customer Service and one of our representatives will gladly assist you.

If Hanzo™ recognizes you as his master, you are then able to download the Hanzo™ app and connect your unit via Bluetooth. The app will allow you to be able to change his personality setting.

Custom Wake Up Sequence: After turning on your Hanzo™ unit for the first time, you are able to set a special sequence to wake him up after he powers down for the night (i.e., gently, but firmly squeezing his Left Tiddy™). Simply turn on the app, look for the option for Wake Up Sequence in the settings and executing the action on your Hanzo™ unit. When you are done, press done on the app. It will then register it and you are able to use the sequence from then on to wake your unit.

Personalities:

-Default: Hanzo’s™ Default personality tends to be arrogant, but also he tends to brood. Sometimes he will need some alone time, so that he can think about all the wrongs he had done in his life (i.e., Killing his younger brother, Genji). Let him brood, but give him some love so that he doesn’t stay brooding forever.

-Young Master: The Young Master personality is more arrogant than his Default personality, since he is the first born son of the Master of the Shimada Clan. He will spend a lot of time in this personality training to be a master swordsman and archer. If he recognizes you as his master in this personality, he is a great bodyguard and can protect you. He will show off some of his skills to you too. So be sure to praise him to keep his ego unharmed.

-Alpha/Omega: Hanzo’s™ Alpha personality is possessive and very protective. He will always be sure that you’re safe from other people and will glare at them. Every few months, he will start acting even more possessive and he will start to touch you more. He is scenting you, so that other unit will know to stay away. Sometimes he will try to hide what he is doing, but he goes through most of the signs of a traditional rut. His Omega personality though is very needy. He has not had a lot of intimate contact so he craves it. So expect to have him around 24/7, he will whine. Every few months when he goes into a heat, he will start building a nest. If you’d like you can help him by providing blankets and pillows. It will also help if you give him something that smells like you, like an old sweater you wear often.

-Dragon: The Dragon personality is incredibly snooty, he will want to make a nest much like his Omega personality. But this nest has to be made of the finest objects or else he is not satisfied. He will silently judge you and everything you do. Like he might judge your outfit and the way you decorate your home, and he will try to help you by picking out your clothes and rearranging everything in your home. Lock up your jewelry or anything of value, he will find it, and he will hide it. He needs treasure to stay happy, buy him some fake gemstones or something to keep him happy.

Maintenance: Hanzo™ is perfectly capable of performing most maintenance on himself. Occasionally he will demand for some sake, we sell some at the store made specifically for him. Do not worry, it is not alcoholic. We have programmed the Hanzo™ unit, to drink our “sake” and be sated by it. DO NOT GIVE HIM REAL SAKE. He will malfunction and go into a seemingly deep depression and will start talking about dishonor.

Interactions With Other Units:

-Genji: Hanzo™ feels very guilty towards what he has done to a Genji™ unit in the past, so he will try to avoid these units. Every now and then a Genji™ unit will approach your Hanzo™ unit to tell him that he forgives him and to move on. Be there for your unit to help him process the information. He will need some extra care at this point in time.

-Young Genji (or Sparrow): Hanzo™ will remember past memories with this unit, and become a little depressed. The Young Genji™ unit will also try to approach your unit and talk to him. He might make a joke about how old Hanzo™ looks. Hanzo™ might pull out his Storm Bow. Keep an eye on them.

-McCree: Hanzo™ feels very annoyed by the McCree™ units, please try to avoid too much contact between the two of them. McCree™ is very handsy and Hanzo™ will pull out his Storm Bow.

-Junkrat: Although it seems like your Hanzo™ unit wants nothing to do with the Junkrat™ unit, he will go up to him and interact with him. He will only interact with him to act about where his treasure is. So you do not need to worry about these two being in the same vicinity of each other.

F.A.Q.:

Q: My Hanzo™ unit keeps on stealing expensive fabrics and pillows?
A: It sounds like your Hanzo™ unit has the Dragon personality set, he is making a nest and requires all the nicest items. He is a snooty dragon. Either return all the items he stole, apologize a lot, and leave with your head hung in shame. Or start watching him to make sure he doesn’t steal anymore. If you cannot handle the personality, you are able to switch it back to Default in the app.

Q: Hanzo™ has been saying “Sake!” like all the time, I don’t know what to do.
A: Your Hanzo™ unit comes with a drinking gourd that he likes to drink from, if you forgot to give it to him that may be why he is doing that. Please give it to him, we sell a liquid that he is able to safely drink, so please purchase some from our store. If he has the gourd and is still yelling, he may be malfunctioning. Please do a reset, if that also fails call Customer Service for help.

Q: My Hanzo™ unit broke into my liquor cabinet and is now grumbling about dishonor???
A: Your Hanzo™ unit is currently going on a rampage of guilt. He is remembering his past and how he killed his brother. Please get a Genji™ unit to come and forgive him so he can start his healing process.

Q: I got a Genji™ unit to try and help, now he is hissing at him and throwing things.
A: Good luck.

Q: Is there a platonic love setting for my Hanzo™ unit?
A: Yes, you are able to set it in the app. Just go to Custom Personality and set what you need.

Q: My Hanzo™ unit is stuck in a tree, what do I do?
A: Offer your love or call the fire department.

Disclaimer: Although Hanzo™ is a product that we sell, anything that happens after he leaves our factory is not our responsibility. We will not be liable for any of his actions. It is your job as the master to be sure that he is in tip top shape and to keep him out of trouble.

anonymous asked:

could I request #83 of the ways to say I love you one? For starmora, ofc

83. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

tbh??? I went into this one with no plan and just kinda let it write itself. hope you find the results Interesting !!!! (also I like writing vulnerable gamora recently asdfghjkl;’ I’m Sorry)

send me a ship + a number for a way to say “I love you”!!!

Gamora’s never envied Nebula for her extensive cybernetic enhancements. Of course, Gamora has more than a fair share of machinery whirring within her body as well, but not quite to the extent of Nebula, who was completely replaced with enhancements. So, even though Gamora can still best Nebula in combat (except once—Ego’s planet, but whatever), Nebula’s got the advantage when it comes to getting back up on her feet after a pretty hefty injury, since her body parts all just click back into place within moments of being broken.

Then Gamora hisses in pain as she just barely moves her body, her leg sending a wave of pain through her entire body that nearly knocks her unconscious.

Yeah, she really hates Nebula right now.

Shit, Gamora,” Rocket comments, looking at her in disbelief. “That’s a nasty break.”

“I noticed,” she manages through gritted teeth.

Groot’s standing next to her broken leg, first looking up at her with wide, sad eyes, then turning back to her leg. He makes a move to poke it, but Rocket grabs him before he can touch it.

“No, Groot, we don’t touch broken limbs!” Rocket chastises, setting Groot on his shoulder. “And unless Gamora can walk on this thing, we’re gonna have to wait for some backup, ‘cause there’s no way in hell I can carry her.”

They’re in the middle of a heist for some precious artifact that was stolen from the Nova Corps. The team split up into two—as part of the plan—with Gamora and Rocket in charge of extracting the object while Peter and Drax take care of the guards.

But then one thing leads to another in their ultimate descent from a well-planned mission to a disastrous one, per usual: an overabundance of enemy forces, a lack of care for being stealthy (Drax gets overexcited sometimes), a typical Rocket explosion (“What? They were totally gonna kill us!”), and the team still being separated, despite having supposed to have rendezvoused by now.

And Rocket’s “little” (according to him) explosion? Gamora barely made it out of the way in time, but then the floor collapsed beneath her, Rocket, and Groot, and they fell down to the next level, where a large piece of concrete with Gamora’s name on it came after her leg with a passion.

Rocket managed to get it off her, but her leg’s busted and even just the thought of moving is enough to make Gamora feel sick, but she ignores it.

“It’s fine,” she quips while Rocket fiddles with his comms, trying to reconnect with Peter and Drax. “I’ve had worse.”

Rocket scoffs. “I don’t doubt it, but that doesn’t make this time any less crappy.”

That’s as close to outright sympathy as Rocket would offer, Gamora is aware, but she doesn’t really care either way. It’s just a broken leg, after all. She starts trying to push herself up to her feet (or, at least, her good foot).

“I am Groot!” Groot calls out, concerned, when she stops not even halfway to getting up, because, okay, maybe she’s a little over her head this time.

“I’m okay, Groot,” she reassures him, carefully directing her voice away from the pain she can feel crawling up into it. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Rocket says, looking down at his comms. “I’m gonna call Quill to come down and get us, because there’s no way I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“I don’t need to be—“

“Quill?” Rocket cuts her off, speaking into his device. “Can you hear me?”

“Rocket?” Peter’s voice comes through moments later. “Where are you guys?”

“All three of us are down on the sublevel. We fell through th’floor,” Rocket says, looking up at the hole from which they fell. Gamora resists the urge to roll her eyes; after all, Rocket had been the one to cause the explosion and get them stuck down here in the first place. “Gamora’s leg is busted. We need an extraction.”

“Her leg? What—“

Peter’s cut off by some gunfire and a loud battle cry—“Drax,” Gamora and Rocket identify simultaneously—before he can finish his question.

“Just get your ass down here, Star-Munch,” Rocket says. “I got the artifact, so we’re good to go.”

“Is Gamora okay?”

“She’s still alive. Here, I’ll prove it to ya.” Rocket turns his attention back to Gamora. “Gamora, are you dead?”

“Rocket! Is she—”

“Just talk to her yourself!” Rocket finally gives up, handing Gamora (who’s long since given up on standing up, and has returned to just sitting with her leg awkwardly sticking out) the device.

“I’m fine, Peter,” Gamora says. “Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure you’re fine? What happened to your leg?”

“Broken,” she answers with a shrug.

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

“We weren’t plannin’ on movin’, anyway,” Rocket says, leaning toward the device. “There’s no way in hell I can carry Gamora.”

“I don’t need to be carried,” Gamora protests.

“Just hang tight! We’ll be down in a few minutes.”

And that’s that. Gamora hands the device back to Rocket, in exchange for Groot, who replaces the device’s spot in Gamora’s hand. She sets him down on her lap. He looks up at her sadly.

“Peter’s on his way,” she tries to reassure him. “We’ll be back on the ship soon.”

“I am Groot.”

“He’s more worried about your leg,” Rocket translates.

“I am Groot.”

“He wishes your arms and legs would just grow back whenever they get broken, like his do.”

“I am Groot.”

“It’s probably a lot less painful than waiting for it t’heal.” Rocket puts his comms back in his pack, sitting down beside Gamora and Groot. “I don’t think you’ll be on your feet for a while.”

“My body heals quickly,” Gamora reminds him. “Thanks to my cybernetic enhancements.”

“Either way, Quill’s still probably gonna freak,” Rocket jokes with a flick of his ears.

“He worries easily.”

“Specifically when it comes to you.”

Rocket points at her, but Gamora tries to play it off with a (half-hearted) shrug. “I can take care of myself.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Let ‘im worry over you, it’s his way of showing that he cares,” Rocket says. “And the entire d’ast galaxy knows he cares a lot about you.”

Ever since she admitted to feeling the same “unspoken thing” as Peter, things had gotten…a little weird, specifically within the team. There are a lot of emotions going through them at the moment, of course: grief from Yondu, anxiety from Ego, and a general need to frantically put all the pieces back together as quickly as possibly to somehow return to normalcy.

But in a team like theirs, well, normalcy’s practically unheard of.

And, of course, there’s this new thing between her and Peter—the feelings aren’t new, but the open acknowledgement of them is, as is everyone else’s reactions to it—and Gamora’s certain that nobody’s really on the same page at the moment.

“You two can be pretty nauseating t’be around,” Rocket continues, but there’s no hostility or disapproval in his voice. “But, hey, if you’re happy.”

Now it’s his turn to shrug, and Gamora can’t help but stare. “You don’t mind Peter and I…?”

She trails off, because she’s not exactly sure what the word for it is. Back when it was unspoken, it was just that: wordless, abstract. Now Gamora’s not exactly sure how to make it spoken, because the first words that come to mind—a relationship, courting, dating, what have you—don’t really seem to fit.

“I’d rather you two acknowledge your sexual tension rather than puttin’ the rest of us through it,” Rocket insists. “Consider it my blessing.”

“I am Groot.”

“Groot also approves,” Rocket explains.

“I am Groot.”

“Whoa, I’m not sure if I’d call it love yet, Groot,” Rocket corrects. Gamora tries to ignore the heat that rises to her cheeks at Groot’s idea. “They need time t’figure things out before they call it love, or whatever.”

“Thank you, Rocket,” Gamora says softly. She pokes Groot’s back with her index finger, looking down at him. “You, too, Groot.”

Groot beams up at her. Rocket scoffs. “Whatever. Just…keep the d’ast sexual tension—and actual sex—away from the rest of us.”

Before Gamora can reply, Peter calls down to them from above. He’s looking down at him through the hole in the ceiling. “There you guys are! I’m coming down!”

“Took ya long enough, asshole!” Rocket calls back as Peter puts on an aero rig and flies down to them.

“Blame Drax,” Peter grumbles, landing beside them. “He refused to leave without every guard down and no stones left unturned.”

“We didn’t turn any stones!” Drax protests from above.

Metaphor, Drax!” Peter calls back.

“What a bunch a’idiots,” Rocket mutters, shaking his head.

“Can you and Drax bring the ship over here for an extraction?” Peter asks.

“Yeah, sure, whatever, since you asked so nicely,” Rocket says, activating his aero rig. Gamora hands Groot over to him. As Groot settles on Rocket’s shoulder, Rocket flies up to Drax. “We’ll be back in a few.”

“Hey,” Peter greets, kneeling down beside Gamora. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Gamora responds, just as she had to Rocket. “I’ve had worse.”

“How exactly did this happen?”

“Ask Rocket.”

“Not my fault!” Rocket calls from above.

“Whatever, that doesn’t matter,” Peter dismisses, shaking his head as he places an arm around Gamora’s shoulders and another under her legs. “This is already going to be tricky enough.”

Gamora’s a trouper, per usual, simply grunting as Peter helps her stand up. She leans heavily on him, feeling more disoriented than she’d anticipated, but Peter’s got a firm grasp on her.

“Easy, easy,” Peter murmurs when she sways. “Let me just carry you.”

Part of her wants to object, but she recalls Rocket’s advice.

Let Peter take care of her.

So she goes along with it—not that she has much willpower to protest at this point, anyway, because her vision’s swimming, her leg feels just short of horrible, and…is the room spinning?—and loops her arms around Peter’s neck. On his count, she manages a small jump to help him lift her legs up into her arms.

“We’ll be back to the ship in no time,” he reassures her, flying up toward the hole. “Then we’re going straight to a doctor.”

She sighs, resting her head against his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Thanks for being so cooperative,” he teases. “This is a lot easier than I expected.”

“I take back my gratitude,” she quips, rolling her eyes. She can hear his laughter from his chest.

“Sure you do,” Peter says sarcastically, landing on the ground and walking toward the exit.

Gamora just rolls her eyes, silently appreciating the quiet, private moment. Maybe Rocket had been onto something when he’d suggested her letting Peter do this, letting herself be vulnerable with him; he’s been vulnerable with her plenty of times before, so there’s no reason she can’t expect the same from him. This experience leaves her trusting Peter even more.

(Rocket gives surprisingly good advice.)


send me a ship + a number from this **new** list (pls specify if it’s from the new list)!!!!

the promised rant about Hindu deities and their place in neo-eclectic spiritual practice

A long ramble of thoughts I’ve had a lot regarding non-Hindus, including white people, including eclectic practices & attempts to work with Hindu concepts, deities, etc:

1) I often see outsiders mistakenly think that people who follow “polytheistic” religions* have equal relationships with every deity in a given religion, or that we can just cherry pick which ones we pray to and admire. Like “hm today I’m going to think about Saraswati” as if we were choosing a lipstick.

This isn’t the case at all; we respect and honor and pray to different deities at different times, but often have closer and more devotional relationships with select ones, depending on our upbringing and our family lineage. My family worships Lord Shiva. I would also place special importance on our worship of Durga and Ganapati. Of course we honor the rest — we might do prayers to specific deities personally during certain times in our lives or during holidays. When we go to the mandir, we pray to every deity present, of course. But we don’t have an equivalent relationship with them all.

Different Hindus will describe this differently — some interpret these relationships more hierarchically, others are more flexible, still others don’t worry about the philosophies underlying the practice and just practice Hinduism however they were brought up to. My point is, no Hindu is casually trying on worship for different gods based on their mood and then forgetting about it.

A lot of people who were raised with good old Jesus Christ or maybe not much religion at all seem not to grasp these details, and this feeds into a bunch of other misconceptions. These misconceptions often lead to misappropriation, especially when people outside of Hindusim enter into eclectic spiritual practices.

*“polytheist religion” isn’t the best way to talk about Hinduism but that’s an explanation for another time because this is turning into a tangent.

2) To me, the above “mistake” is because of a larger misconception that non-Hindus have about Hindu deities. I think many people’s impression of polytheistic traditions is shaped by the simplistic way that, like, the Greek pantheon is often taught in school — “so and so is the ____ goddess of ___”. It flattens the deities into representations of concepts.

The problem is, this is nothing like the relationship most Hindus have with the gods they are devoted to. We have nicknames for them, we think of them as friends and family in more than one sense, we talk to them as such and think about them sort of like PEOPLE, not just essences of keywords or concepts. Sure, “lord shiva” is the god of “death and rebirth” and “the destroyer”. I love those parts of him, they’re meaningful and real, but that alone doesn’t say enough about the relationship I have with him. I think of him by his nicknames, I don’t think of him as an abstract cardboard cutout or a symbol. The stories about him aren’t just vague and fantastical but often have aspects of, like, amusing anecdotes you hear about a friend. He isn’t like the paternal judgmental sky dad of Christianity, nor is he a two-dimensional shorthand for some kind of idea. I don’t get afraid of him and I don’t think of him as some kind of static figure. I think of him more like a close friend and really wise mentor I respect to an incomprehensibly great extent.

(Side note: I believe we need to be more aware of that difference in perception when we talk about and worship deities from various ancient polytheistic traditions as well; I feel like it’s possible their historical devotees would have had a similarly intimate and playful but reverent and loving relationship with whoever they worshipped. It’s a mistake imo to think of them as flat and representational rather than complex and rounded and even interactive. They are often “"humanized”“ for reasons.)

3) From that misunderstanding, there’s so many things people misunderstand. The idea of ”“nirvana”“ you always hear about, for example, means so much more when you understand it as a devotee attaining complete unity with the vast and intricate personality of their god. Embodying and assimilating into all of their qualities, all of their wisdom, all of their permeability, indistinguishable from each other. The loss of the ego as a total dissolution of the boundary between a soul and divinity at large.

Emotional anecdote time: when my grandmother, mother and I went to our family "guru” to know if my grandfather achieved moksha, he confirmed that he did, and all we could do was sob with joy. We all collapsed and wept and couldn’t say anything. And my relationship with Lord Shiva became so much more complex when it really clicked that my grandfather was one and the same as him, and I therefore had a truly “personal” relationship with and guidance from the god I know, that this person, this spirit I knew and know exists within and as him and is listening to me, open to my access.

It has nothing to do with just some state of bliss that you can just eat pray love your way towards. To reduce our concept of the relationship between divinity, deities, and souls to a blandly articulated state of “oneness” achievable by any Becky who spends enough time meditating with her Lululemon mala beads burns me up. It’s so reductive and even mistakenly individualist. It misses so much about the context and practice and livedness of those ideas and what they really mean.

4) Similarly, admiration or good intentions don’t mean much when white folks take images of deities and do not learn the rituals and procedures of their worship. I’ve seen white folks tattooing deities on parts of their bodies that are downright disrespectful and if these people even talked to one Hindu they would’ve known that. They would have been advised about how to convey respect. You can’t just have them lying around and pray to them however you like. There’s specific ways to honor them and specific ways to disrespect them. One kind of funny example — some would find it impolite to partake in marijuana in front of Lord Shiv without /offering him some/. Similarly there are other gods you would not do that in front of at all.

Different deities, to be truly honored, require different /detailed/ types of worship, procedures completed beforehand (cleaning, etc), placement in the home, bhajans and mantras, certain days of the week…This is why Hinduism gets called a “way of life” and not just a religion. It’s so beyond buying a Ganesh statue and saying some random om phrases you found on Google when you feel like it. I see too many crystal workers buying “Shiva lingam” and leaving it on a shelf like it’s just another rock or mineral. To a Hindu, a Shiva lingam is a literal representation of him and should be honored and worshipped as such through placement, display and offerings.

5) the final point and the cause of all the above: these are ALL THINGS that would be COMMON KNOWLEDGE and easily avoided if those who were interested in working with Hindu deities and beliefs didn’t seem to always, always sequester themselves from any actual, born and raised, practicing Hindus. I see so many white people practicing Hinduism in their own little groups without us. We don’t do that. Hinduism is situated within collectivist cultural values and the context of family and community is intrinsic to its practice. There are mandirs that /I/ feel uncomfortable praying at because they seem to be nearly exclusively for white convert Hindus. That’s not okay.

There is a LOT of debate about the openness or closedness of Hinduism. I’ve met scholars and priests who believe Hinduism is strictly carried through blood and family and in fact believe certain knowledge, ancient scriptures and such, are similarly carried through this blood connection. My grandmother loves introducing people to our religion – it really pleases her when they take interest – but she always says that our connectivity and “soul power” as she puts it is unique to us because of our bloodline and heritage. Our “dharm” – another word that white Hindus seem to completely misunderstand. Not that it’s better or more important than other people’s/peoples’, but it’s only ours and innately ours. All paths lead to the same place, all can seek god in their own way according to our beliefs, but this path is our way to reach the divine and it is our duty to follow it and live our lives this way because it is inherent to who we are.

I’ve also heard from Hindus who interpret the above to mean that Hinduism is a VERY open system that is downright compatible with other religions. I don’t think those two interpretations are even mutually exclusive or diametrically opposed. My opinion continues to develop the more I connect and learn.

My real point is, if you experience an attraction to our beliefs or gods, learn about them WITHIN our communities rather than without them. Read what we write about. Talk to our elders. Come to the same mandir we go to if you want to see what our communal worship looks like. Observe our practices before deciding to integrate pieces of it into your own. Know that you may be misconstruing the foundational concepts behind our worship and behind the explanations of our deities if you take them out of the context they have always been a part of. Understand that our culture is a collective one and we worship in families and communities as much as we worship alone.

And most of all, have /respect for us/ as human beings – don’t separate the people who practice a religion from your interest in the religion itself. How can you say you respect a tradition when you have no respect for the people who have given it life for centuries? Can you really, casually chit chat about the “connection” you feel with a deity when all you did was read their Wikipedia page? When you’re not interested in connecting with the people who have constructed their lives around a tradition of expressing love and respect for that deity? When you don’t want to learn more about that deity from those people?

I believe our deities are open to working with and inspiring non-Hindus, absolutely. I often recommend non-Hindus introduce themselves to or research or meditate on given aspects or forms of them. I believe they can impart really important knowledge to various people, particularly some marginalized groups, and I want them to be appreciated for that. Hinduism has core beliefs and concepts that can be transformational, especially in relation to gender and compassion and unity and various forms of distress, especially for those who have been ingrained with the toxic aspects of Western culture and Western religion. I want people to be able to participate and engage with our traditions because of that. However, meditating on a deity isn’t the same as devoted worship, and that should be understood – you’ll simply never have the same access to Hindu deities if you aren’t Hindu. You aren’t going to get the same out of worship for them, even if they point you in the right direction. If you understand this and choose to incorporate them into your worship anyway, I ask that you research and understand their context. Don’t go buying statues and posters without reading about or talking to a Hindu about how to properly respect them at even a basic level. If you choose to worship our deities within a communal setting, there had better be South Asian Hindus present and actively engaged with and leading the environment. Actual, practicing, regular Hindus going about their lives, not “gurus” who have figured out how to make a buck off of pandering to white exotification.

I find my traditions to be so rich and stimulating on intellectual as well as spiritual levels. I just wish people would truly engage with them instead of USING them in the superficial way I see very often. Particularly our beautiful, wise, imperfect, friendly, three-dimensional deities. I am tired of seeing a treatment of them that is at best reductive/underutilizing and at worst disrespectful. They deserve so much more than that, as do we.

Good Music's Like a Drug

“So we’re here live with DJPRONG in a rare exclusive one on one interview they’ve agreed to. With ten minutes before the first ever concert here on Earth fans from far and wide across the galaxy have come to fill the stadium.” Interviewer rushes to the form fit leather clad musician with a drone as her camera man poised and ready. “DjPRONG with tonight’s show only minutes away what can we expect to see?”

“Lights flashing, chill of the crowd in the mosh pit, and the momentary pause before the beat drops. I’ll be dropin it hard and heavy, rockin‘ you from your core to the floor. What’s not to love?” A winking emoji plays over his visor as it works to distort his voice into a synthesized work of art. He twists his hand into the air theatrically while trying not to laugh himself silly behind his mask as he plays up his alter ego with an additional flare.

The interviewer steps aside with the renown musician who’s been humoring her interview. Kaoru is quick to utilize every second on the rare interview brief and fleeing as it is, ”your record breaking downloads on his latest project you’ve released for free to on the LIVLÆmp downloads is a gift to us all. So I gotta ask if you’re still in such a generous mood to hand out any clues to who you really are? At least tell me what color eyes do you have?”


He chuckles as he points to his visor and shakes his helm. “Whatever the visor is, that’s my color.”

“Alright, alright, nationality?”

“Music doesn’t need orientation.” He winks again scatting past answers as he points to his wrist to indicate he has to get ready to set up without being mean. Another emote comes up with a smile in soft red.

“Oh gosh- okay, what can we expect to see on the stage tonight. This being your first appearance on Earth?!”

“I’m about to release a track with EDM as it’s known America. That is not it’s correct term because actually EDM is a compound concept. Comprising dubstep,” He plays a sound clip from his helmet, “Neurostep,” another short clip, ”and techno”. He claps his hands together a twice with the techno beat before snapping his fingers and turning off the clip. “It’s really just a combination of concepts a theoretical thing at best. That’s what I love about you Americans, pseudo music-” He glances at the opening act his helmet mirroring some of his expressions as it emotes his feelings. “Opening act might be hard to top.” He chuckles feigning modesty even though he feels like what he has in store is going to blow the people prior to playing before him clear out of the water.

“Thank you for your time, it’s really been a pleasure. I’d ask more, but suppose keeping you from the fans wouldn’t bode well for me. Aha,” she chuckles and shuts off her camera by catching it in her hands.

“Of course. I’d answer a little more, but curtains are about to rise.”

“Can I ask you something off the record?”

“Suppose.” He shot back glancing at the stage crew that motioned for him to hurry up and get ready for going live. He motioned one more minute and flashed a sorry message over his screen and turned back to the woman.

“Anyone know who you are behind the mask?”

Without thinking about it he laughs, “my boyfriend”. He slaps his hand over his helmet not meaning to be so forthright as he hears her trill and talk onto her drone she’d apparently not turned off. His voice may have been masked and gender still very ambiguous despite the skin tight suit, but that was still more than he’d intended to give out on the personal front. He mentally kicked himself as he pushed past the curtains leaving the stage crew to wonder.