take the easy option

#TechStandsWithPP: A message from Tumblr’s CEO and Planned Parenthood’s president

When Planned Parenthood was founded a century ago, it was illegal to even hand out information about birth control. Thanks to generations of brave women and men who formed secret societies, challenged unjust laws, and started Planned Parenthood health centers in their own towns, we’ve come a long way since. Millions of people, regardless of income or insurance coverage, now have access to birth control, cancer screenings, and STI testing and treatment. Each year, Planned Parenthood proudly provides health information to nearly 70 million people online and 1 million people in classrooms and communities across the country. Today, America is at a 30-year low in unintended pregnancy and a historic low in teen pregnancy.

But all of that progress is a reminder of how much women and men in America now stand to lose. Extreme politicians at every level of government are doing everything they can to block millions of people from coming to Planned Parenthood, deny access to affordable health care, and roll back women’s rights over their own bodies. We are facing a national health disaster, especially in our most vulnerable communities.

That’s why we’re calling on the tech industry to join Tumblr in standing with Planned Parenthood and standing up for access to health care.

A 100-year-old health care provider and the platform powering 335 million blogs may seem like an unlikely pair. But over the last few years, Tumblr and Planned Parenthood have teamed up to provide information and organize communities in support of reproductive rights. We’re proud of all we’ve accomplished together and with overwhelming support from the Tumblr community.

Technology has become instrumental in the fight for fairness and equality across a range of issues. It has the power to influence public debate, mobilize communities, and — most importantly — offer creative solutions to help people receive better care, no matter where they live or who they are. Finally, the tech industry owes its success to the brilliant people it employs and the communities it serves — and we cannot take their health for granted.

It won’t be easy, but doing nothing isn’t an option when lives are at stake. We need to work together to break down barriers to care and information for the millions of people desperate to take ownership of their sexual and reproductive health, and tackle disparities in health care access and outcomes.

Now is the time to be vocal, visible, and active in your support of Planned Parenthood — starting with the #TechStandsWithPP hashtag to share stories about how Planned Parenthood has touched your life, or the life of anyone you know. Call on your co-workers and peers to do the same.

In health care, education, and nearly every industry, we’re doing things that would have been unthinkable a century ago. Think of all we can achieve together in the decades to come if we combine the creativity, innovation, and energy of the tech community with Planned Parenthood’s commitment to helping people everywhere — no matter what.

— David Karp + Cecile Richards

Little idea inspired by Brendon’s story about falling off his skateboard. Full credit to whoever this photo was posted by orginally <3 <3 dedicated to the amazing @lacyandbeebourie becayse I love her <3

I’m sorry it’s so long XD

Word count - 5781

A Couple Puffs Then We’re Done

I padded through the college into my lecture, I was about 20 minutes early so I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there yet. I winced at the stinging sensation on my leg under my jeans, why I had thought skinny jeans were a good idea after bailing off my board yesterday was beyond me, but it was me after all. To my surprise the lecture room wasn’t a ghostland and as luck would have it there were even some of my friends, I glanced over at Brendon, Ryan and Spencer sitting a little away from my friends, no doubt Ryan had followed Sophia here. Brendon smiled at me, we didn’t talk huge amounts but we had worked together on projects a few times, nevertheless he was still super hot, tattoos covering his left forearm and always wearing a tshirt with skinny jeans, almost black hair lazily flicked to one side with his hand. He was in a band and played a ton of instruments AND sang which just made him hotter quite honestly. I walked through to my friends and threw myself into a chair, groaning out when I scraped the raw skin on my leg.

“AH fuck!” I yelped slightly, my hands flying to my right thigh.

“Jesus what happened to you?” Sophia asked, turning her head to face me.

“I had a total wipe out on my board yesterday.” I laughed at my own stupidity, it was even doing a trick, literally doing an ollie down a step.

“Isn’t that in the sea?” Lola asked in typical airhead fashion.

“Skateboard Lo.” I sighed, giggling.

“What happened?” Sophia asked, laughing with me.

“I tried to ollie down a step and just failed miserable, I fell straight on my ass and it fucking hurt.” I laughed, never the one to hold back when explaining things.

“You’re an idiot.” She teased, giggling along with me, I heard the boys chatting behind us.

“You know I did pretty much the exact same thing last summer.” Brendon’s smooth voice rang out, I snapped my head around, he was grinning slightly.

“Really? I didn’t even know you board.” I turned to face him, that distinctive half smile, that I wish I didn’t love so much, was plastered all over his face.

“Yeah! I was skating across the road and tried to ollie up the sidewalk and just went flying forward, scraped my whole side up, I think I got a picture somewhere.” He shook his head as he told the story, his smile beaming at me, god he was too hot, one hand slipping up to run through his impossibly dark hair. “What board do you have anyway?”

“I got a Diamond Supply custom.” I grinned, picturing my gorgeous skateboard sitting in my dorm room.

“Nice! Mines an Alien Workshop. It’s beat up as fuck I need a new one. How did you get your hands on a custom aren’t they way expensive?”

“I got it for my 18th from my dad. It’s getting pretty beat up already.”

“I’ve literally never seen a Diamond Supply custom in person.”

“Oh my God, mine is gorgeous! I…” I hesitated for a split second, rethinking my plan to fuck with a guy with so much of a reputation. “I mean, I can show you mine, you can fuck about with it tomorrow or something.”

“Seriously? Awesome, it’s a date!” He chimed, grinning the biggest smile ever at me, the girls giggled a little. “Although… please expect me to be bugging you about this like tomorrow, because I really like those boards.” We sat and nattered a little more about skating and different boards before our professor came in and we had to be quiet. The rest of the class I kept feeling Brendon’s eyes on me, turning occasionally to see his head snap away, turning to face the front again, his focus on his notebook was adorable, lip pulled between his teeth and brows scrunching up occasionally. I wasn’t paying attention much. As we finished I shoved my books back in my bag, standing and trailing after the girls, we were about to head to get some food when a voice disturbed us.

“Hey Y/N!” Brendon yelled, running up to me, the girls were giggling already, I turned to face him, returning the smile he shot at me.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Well… umm seeing as we don’t have many of the same classes and might not see each other til’ next week, I was gonna ask if umm… well… could I have your number?” He stuttered slightly, grinning nonetheless, I heard whispering from behind me but opted to ignore it.

“Yeah sure, pass your phone.” He did so without hesitation, thrusting his phone into my hands. “It's… umm it’s locked.”

“Oh shit yeah…” He leaned in. “8274” He whispered, I raised an eyebrow, tapping in the digits, his phone unlocked.

“You didn’t have to tell me. You literally could have done it yourself.”

“eh… I don’t mind you knowing my password. Don’t tell anyone though. Private stuff.” He said, his tone teasing and did he just wink at me? I tapped my number into his phone and called myself so I knew his too, he took his phone back triumphantly, grinning. “Thanks… I’ll text you later, maybe we can plan something.” He grinned, pulling me into a quick hug before sauntering away.

“Someone’s popular.” Sophia giggled along with Lola, both of them staring.

“Oh shut up.”

It was late afternoon when my phone buzzed for the first time, the name Brendon popping up on screen.

Brendon: Hi…

I smiled at the awkward as hell message, typing one back, hesitating before I pressed send, the following conversation was actually pretty cute… I think.

Me: Hey, couldn’t wait to speak to me again? ;)

It took precisely 30 seconds for it to buzz again.

Brendon: I was actually here to ask for nudes, why else would I want your number? :D

I laughed at his response, typing my own one out.

Me: Creeeeeep. That line work for you before? :P

Brendon: Oh don’t flatter yourself. I meant of your board ;) *nervous laughter*

Me: Suuuuuure.

Brendon: That a no?

Me: Shut up!

Brendon: Gotta run, band practise. Talk later?

Me: I’m free all night :)

Brendon: OK… text you later :*

I looked back to my laptop when the phone buzzed again.

Brendon: By the way, add me on Snapchat :* patdBrendon x

Did he send me a kiss? I added him anyway, he didn’t accept right away but I knew he was with the band so I didn’t sweat it. I kept working on my music theory stuff, a notebook to the side of me as I jotted things down. I spent a good couple of hours working before I was disturbed by the girls coming busting in the room, all dressed up and ready to go out, there was a party but I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to go.

“Hey studious Sally, coming out?” Sophia asked, giggling as she tugged at her dress, she looked pretty but so typically girly.

“I should work really. Plus it’s not really my scene.” I tried to talk her into leaving me alone, but it failed.

“Oh come on, Ryan and Spencer will be there.” Lola squealed, the both had a thing with those two.

“And that benefits me how?” I asked, turning back to my notebook and finishing off my sentence.

“Because Brendon will be with them.” Sophia teased me, I shook my head. “Oh come on! It’s just one night to have some fun!” I knew she would keep going on if I didn’t agree so I gave in.

“OK fine! Give me half hour to yet ready.” They giggled excitedly, hopping around like 5 year olds. “And don’t even try to get me to wear a dress.” They left me be finally, leaving to go do whatever other useless pre party rituals they wanted. I stood in front of my mirror, my hair had been plaited all day so I opted for the easy option of taking it out, leaving it wavy around my shoulders, I put some smokey eyeshadow on and mascara and my favourite dark red lipstick, satisfied with my head I decided to go look through my wardrobe. I opted for black, ripped skinny jeans and a cropped tank top, throwing on my beat up old converse and my sweater over the top, it was a nice sweater so I was sure I could get away with it. I actually felt like I looked pretty cute so decided to show off a little, opening Snapchat on my phone, I lifted the phone up a little to show the whole outfit, smiling into the camera, writing “Being forced to go out XD” under it. I posted it on my story and within a few minutes I got a text from Brendon again.

Brendon: What party are you being forced to go to? ;)

Me: I don’t even know who’s party is it… I got nagged into it.

Brendon: Well as luck would have it I’m also being forced to go to a party :P

Me: Might not even be the same one…

Brendon: I hope it is ;)

I decided to leave it at that, I didn’t want to make myself seen desperate or needy, play it cool Y/N, play it cool. Funnily enough I got another message from him, this time on Snapchat, he was wearing a dark shirt and snapback, a smile plastered across his face. “Nice outfit though…” it read. I smirked slightly at the snap, did he just say I looked good? I started to get an all too familiar feeling of anxiety that I was reading this whole situation wrong, I mean he had a reputation as a bit of a womaniser and I was starting to worry I was just his next quest. I tried to swallow down my nervous feelings and finish getting ready, skipping the jacket because I knew how warm it was tonight. The girls came bursting back through the door, both eyeing me.

“Ok not gonna lie, you might not be wearing a dress but you look hot!” Lola giggled, looking me up and down.

“Agreed, and your makeup is smoking.” Sophie added on the end, they both had their purses and were ready to go.

“Jesus do I have girlfriends or pervy guy friends here?!” I grabbed my back, slinging it over my shoulder. “Can we get this damn party over with?” With that I was dragged away, lead to some frat house on campus, jesus this would be annoying.

The party was a typical college party, tonnes of drunk jocks trying to get into the sorority girls pants, it was times like this when I regretted being such a quiet person in college, at least if I spoke to more people I wouldn’t be such a loner at parties. Some drooling jock came stumbling over to me, leaning his arm on the wall above me, he stunk of beer and cologne, not a good combination.

“You’re that skater girl, into all the metal music and weird shit right?” He slurred out, his breath was disgusting and made me feel pretty nauseous actually.

“Umm yeah I guess.” I sighed, taking a sip of my drink, he was wearing the college football team jersey, why you would wear it to a party I don’t know.

“It’s pretty hot, all that emo shit.” He slurred again, wow this was probably the most offensive pick up I’d ever experienced.

“Oh really, well the dumb jock look isn’t, so go find some other girl to hit on.” I snapped slightly, slipping out from under his arm and heading away, to my surprise, Brendon was standing in front of me, head tilted to the side with a broad smile, he looked so good tonight, his jeans fitted him in the best way and his dark tshirt sitting under a black leather jacket, I noticed the absence of the snapback though.

“Lose your hat?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

“Eh, it didn’t go with the jacket.” He shrugged, eyes moving to the jock that had been speaking to me 30 seconds ago. “You look about as happy to be here as me.”

“Just got told that ‘all the emo shit’ is pretty hot by some drooling chimp.” I giggled slightly, Brendon gently pulled me to the side to someone could get past me, the small contact felt nice. “So all in all a pretty good night.” He scoffed with laughter.

“Ah damn, I knew jocks were your type.” He leant on a table next to us, flicking his hair from his face effortlessly.

“Oh please, there’s only about 20 brain cells on that whole team and 10 of them are in the captain.” I sassed, putting the empty cup in my hand down.

“Ouch, I felt that burn from here, you want another drink?” He smiled sweetly, his eyes seeming to cost up and down me.

“Nah its cool, I wasn’t planning to stay much longer anyway.” I shook my head, returning the smile he gave me, with that Lola and Sophia come over, hanging off of Spencer and Ryan’s arms respectively. Music began blaring and I couldn’t hear myself think, I heard Lola shouting at Brendon and I to come and dance, as much as I tried to avoid it even Brendon was trying to convince me.

“Ah come on… just a few songs?” He pouted at me, smiling brightly when I relented and allowed myself to be lead onto the dancefloor. We all danced together, singing along to the music, it was fun for about 20 minutes then the novelty of dancing with the guy I liked had worn off. Brendon pulled me close as them music played and I felt my heart beginning to race, pounding in my chest as his lips leant close to my ear.

“Wanna blow this place? I’m bored outta my mind!” He yelled over the music, I nodded, letting him lead me out the party. “Don’t you need to let your friends know where you’re going?”

“Nah, they’re too busy with Spencer and Ryan, I’ll text them.” I shook my head, Brendon and I walked aimlessly for a while before he spoke.

“Wanna go pick up our boards? I got some weed at mine we could have a smoke and skate?” He smiled, I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Smoke weed on campus?” I heard the shock in my own voice, cringing a little.

“Calm down goody two shoes, my place is off campus, we could pick up your board then walk to mine, then maybe we could go for a skate?” He smiled sweetly, the idea sounded amazing, it wasn’t so late and the sun was going to set soon, it was warm and breezy so I wouldn’t get too hot.

“You know… that sounds like an awesome idea.” I smiled, we walked to mine, Brendon spent about ten minutes in my room just gushing over my skateboard before I finally managed to drag him out to go to his place. He walked and I used my board, even though I let him have a few turns on it, we headed over to his place, he let me in and lead me to his bedroom.

“Want me to roll a few blunts before we go? So we don’t have to keep coming back or rolling while we’re out?” He sat down, pulling out a small box with all of his stuff in.

“It’s ok, I’ll only have a little. Don’t wanna steal all your weed.” I tried to argue but he shook his head.

“Don’t be silly, I’ll roll and few and you can smoke as much as you want.” He did as he said, rolling a few blunts and putting them in a small silver tin, throwing that in the pocket of his leather jacket, he lead me outside, grabbing his own board as we left, he grabbed keys and his wallet. “It sucks that that you know how to skate.” He grinned at me, I tilted my head to the side, confused by the comment.

“What… why?” I was totally puzzled by it.

“Because… teaching you how to skate would have been a really good way to get close to you.” He flashed a cheesy grin, both of us cracking up into giggles, after he giggled be pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, eyes flitting up and down over me again.

“Well looks like you’ll have to be more inventive then.” I challenged, still wasn’t sure about this but I was all up for having fun tonight.

“Well aren’t you lucky I like a challenge.”

As we were skating around near his place we took the odd video of each other, I posted a few of Brendon skating on snapchat as well as a few selfies, he took a few videos of us both smoking and skating, playing some music off of my phone. Time completely flew by, the sun was setting fast and we were both pretty stoned skating around, laughing and joking on his snapchat and my own. I stopped and slid my sweater off, feeling the heat bubbling on my skin from skating, throwing it on the grass I was left in my cropped tank top, strappy and sitting just above my naval. I felt Brendon’s eyes on me, flitting up and down my body slowly, it was actually kind of hot feeling like he might actually be attracted to me. His jacket was already on the ground, he stopped, running a hand casually through his hair, flopping on the ground to light a blunt. I sat next to him, glad to be taking a breather for a minute, flopping back on the grass, smoking a little before he headed up to skate some more, smiling at me as he messed around. While he was skating again I looked at his Snapchat, he had taken several videos and pictures and posted them, one was of us both boarding, one picture of us sitting smoking a joint. I looked at the next video and it was me skating with the words “she’s perfect” and a heart sticker on it, I felt myself blush a little, the next picture was us on the grass with “beats a party anyday” written on it. The last few pictures and videos on his story were what got me. One was a picture of me, sweater off midway through an ollie, it was a pretty good picture actually but it was the caption that got me. “Lucky to be with her tonight” and more hearts followed, the final video was us skating and laughing. “A night well spent.” I was blushing so hard by the end of the story, he came skating over, plopping back down next to me on the grass. I took out my phone, holding it out in front of us and pressing a kiss to his cheek, snapping the picture, captioning it “He’s adorable” I plastered the end of it with hearts.

“So tell me more about yourself Urie.” I teased as we lay in the grass, taking an pull of the blunt he had given me.

“There’s not much to know.” He smiled, looking up at the sky.

“Liar… there’s tonnes to know, you just don’t trust anyone enough to tell them.” I smiled and got one back, his eyebrows arched slightly at me.

“Wow… beautiful and intelligent, have I fallen on my feet here?” He flashed another gorgeous smile and I giggled, feeling myself flushing pink, he took a pull on his own joint.

“Oh stop teasing and open up will ya?” I laughed, even though I actually wanted him to, he knew tonnes about me.

“Well, what do ya want to know?”

“Anything you want to tell me.”

“Well… I’m from Vegas, a small town called Summerville, I used to be Mormon, I’m an Aries, I love music more than anything, I play drums, piano, guitar, bass and I sing and mix music for the band too.” He smiled, touching my cheek, I felt my head lean into his touch. “How’s that?”

“Umm good…” I smiled, trying to think of things to keep the conversation going. “So… how did you find moving to college?”

“You know it was pretty easy, I moved out when I was 17 so it wasn’t really any different for me.” I stared at him in shock, I had no idea about any of this.

“What do you mean you moved out at 17?” I asked, interested but trying not to pry.

“Well, when I told my parents I didn’t believe in god, things got pretty sucky for a while, a lot of arguments, so I moved out.”

“But how did you afford that?”

“I worked in a smoothie shop while I was in high school, I only had like 2 lessons a day and would be out by half 10 so I used to work like 8 hours.”

“You must have been exhausted most of the time.”

“Well yeah, but it was worth it, I got into college AND I the band is doing great.” He smiled sweetly, both of us were probably just high and talking shit but it was nice anyway.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we have a meeting with Pete Wentz next month!” He gushed, turning to face me. We continued to talk, getting to know small things about each other that maybe we wouldn’t have known if it wasn’t for tonight, how his favourite colour is red and he loves Frank Sinatra, and his hopes and dreams for the band. It felt surreal, yet it was such an intimate conversation, laying and smoking on the grass, I told him about my family and how I wish they’d support my interests a little more, he asked me endless questions about my interests and told me all about his family and his life. All of a sudden I felt like I could tell him anything, like he was the most trustworthy person in my life. “You… you don’t have to keep telling me stuff just because I asked.” I smiled, I felt his hand touch mine, holding it gently, his smile equally as sweet as he looked at me.

“I’m telling you because I want to. Not because you made me.” He gently stroked my fingers, shifting a little closer to me, he blew the last draw of his blunt out, throwing it away, we went silent, looking at each other, before I could say another word he kissed me, slow and gentle, fingers lacing in with mine, hand pulling me in by the waist. His lips began to move against mine in slow, methodical movements, tongue brushing my lip gently, I eagerly parted my lips allowing his tongue to move against my own. His hand tangled into my hair, pulling my body close, I whimpered against him, he was such a good kisser, it was making my mind turn to mush, I found myself gripping onto his arms and moaning like a 15 having their first kiss. He pulled back, gasping slightly, his eyes fiery and black, breathing heavy as his arms held me clothes.

“My place?” He mumbled, biting his lip as he pressed another kiss to my lips.

“Yes…” I whimpered, feeling him act quickly, he stood and yanked me up, grabbing our stuff before we both skated home, he kept hold of my hand and somehow we managed not to fall off our boards, getting in we both threw them down near the door, he kicked his shoes off and I followed suit, following him up to his room.

Once in his room he moved over to his dresser, taking his shirt off and throwing it on his computer chair, he turned back to me.

“C’mere gorgeous.” He purred, pulling me against him, his lips pressing softly against my own, his hands sliding onto my waist, touching the skin left bare by my cropped top, his fingers curled on the hem pulling it up over my head, throwing it to the ground. “God you’re so sexy.” He practically moaned out, biting his lip at me, handing gliding over my stomach and back, fingertips stroking my skin, I heard myself moan out softly, allowing my own nervous hands to move onto his chest. He closed his eyes as my hands stroked his skin, his lips crashed down on mine, gripping me tightly against his body, the burning skin of his chest pressing against my own flushed pink flesh. He began to guide me over to the bed, working at the button on my jeans.

“They’ll be home soon.” I whispered, Brendon smirked, biting his lip.

“I know… good I got a lock right.” He winked, sauntering over to his bedroom door and pressing the lock in. “Now… lie down.” He teased, his voice low and husky, hands winding around my waist as he lowered me onto his bed, lips moving onto my neck, pressing light kisses all over the sensitive skin, I felt his teeth grazing my flesh, I whimpered as my back arched towards him. He unzipped my jeans, yanking them down my legs and tossing them to the side, unhooking my bra too, his lips moved down to my chest, kissing all over my breasts, tongue swirling against the skin, I whimpered, gripping onto his shoulder blades desperately.

“Brendon…” I gasped, writhing, his hand slid into my panties as his lips worked my flesh, biting down again, his fingers circling on my clit, he groaned as I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, they were left undone. He withdrew his hand from my panties, much to my annoyance, he kicked his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers on top of me, hand back in my panties, touching my clit again, sending shudders of pleasure through me, I felt him hard against my leg, grinding into me slightly.

“Fuck Y/N…” He growled slightly, his breathing rapid and desperate.

“Come on…” I panted desperately, I needed more and he knew it, he groaned and nodded at me, pulling my panties down tossing them somewhere, he wriggled out of his boxers, I felt his bare skin against me, the heat coming from both of us was unbearable, I pressed my hips up towards him, desperate for more contact.

“Someone’s impatient.” He said biting his lip at me, the way he looked at me was driving me crazy, his lip pulled sexily between his teeth, hips grinding down against me, I whimpered again, his hand slipped in between us, he rubbed his cock against me. “So wet.” He growled out, his hips rocking slowly.

“Please Bren…” I whimpered, gripping onto him, he chuckled low in his throat, my hips rocked against his, he groaned out again. “Come on… I need you.” I whimpered, hearing my own voice breathy and desperate.

“Fuck this.” He growled, his hips snapped sharply against me, pushing into me hard, I gasped out, his hips began to snap against me, jolting me up on the bed, his hand gripping the sheets hard, pulling them next to my head. I heard myself moaning and whimpering on the bed under him as his body moved above me, face screwed up in pleasure, his own panting and moaning turning me on even more, I knew how much he was enjoying this, it made it better for me. He growled slightly, leaning up almost upright as his hips slammed into me, the low rumbling sound coming from in his chest driving me insane, I felt him hitting that perfect spot over and over again. It played in the back of my mind that the reason he was so good at this was because of his reputation and how much he’d done it before, but the though was quickly stamped out by the mind numbing pleasure he was giving me. He just grunted and groaned above me, throwing his head back in pleasure, his sexy, tattooed arm coming up to my neck, hand wrapping gently around my throat, holding it in his fingers, squeezing ever so slightly when I moaned out. He looked at me with a new intensity, his eyes burning, like he couldn’t get enough of me, it made me feel so sexy, like no one had made him feel like this before.


My brain began to fog over as an unfamiliar tightening in my stomach began to build up, I had literally only been able to cum before if it was me doing it, so the fact that Brendon had almost nailed it first time drove me crazy. His hand remained around my throat, the other gripping the sheets next to me, I hadn’t really tried rougher sex but it was so hot I couldn’t care less if it was new to me. He released my throat, instead opting to grip onto my wrists, pinning them up above my head as his mouth moved to my neck, biting down harder than before, I felt the slight suction on the skin, knowing he’d leave a dark red mark there.

“Fuck Brendon.” I gasped out, the pain was amazing, along with the pleasure of his hips slamming into me over and over, his pace was relentless, it was like it didn’t faze him at all. He smirked down, letting out another impossibly sexy moan, using only one hand to pin my wrists, the other now gripping tightly onto my hip.

“Ugh Y/N… you feel so fucking tight.” He growled out, low and husky, the tone sent shivers down my spine, I felt the slight sting of his fingers, gripping my hip possessively, I could already tell he wasn’t the type for sharing, the way his body loomed over mine, hands gripping me. His dark hair began to cling to his sweaty forehead, his head thrown back, mouth falling open as he grunted with each thrust, the bed beginning to slam against the wall loudly.

“I… I’m c-close.” I gasped, feeling the knot in my stomach tightening more, like I was about to snap, my mind growing hazy, all I could think of was his name and his body and the way he made me feel, nothing else mattered at that moment. He seemed to gain a second wind hearing me say that, his hips slamming into me with new found ferocity, growling and groaning over the top of me, released my wrists which instantly flew up to his back, gripping it tightly, I felt my nails raking down his flesh which only seemed to drive him even more crazy. He hooked my leg under his arm, allowing him deeper, his free hand tangled in my air, gripping a fistful and pulling it lightly, forcing my back to arch against him, he used to opportunity to attack my neck again, biting and sucking all over. “B-bren, I… can’t hold on much longer.” I whimpered desperately, the stings and aches of pain he was giving me drove me insane, a perfect contrast to how amazing I felt every else.

“Me too baby… I wanna feel you cum on my cock.” He snarled, pulling my hair again sharply, I felt his thrusts growing sloppier and harder, he leant down close to my ear, biting just underneath it. “Cum for me.” He groaned, I came undone at his words, cumming hard around him, feeling myself tightening around him, gripping his back tight, he kept his tight grip on my body, his head bowed into the crook of my neck.

“Brendon!” I yelled out, loud and desperate, I was so glad they hadn’t come back yet, my body felt like it was fluttering, shaking and weak, suddenly he gave one last burst of hard thrusts before slowing.

“Oh fuck Y/N.” He tensed right up above me, throwing his head back, mouth open as he throbbed, hitting his peak just after me, groaned out, his own breath shaky and staggered in my ear.

He flopped down next to me, breathing heavily, sweat coating his skin as he leant back.

“Wow…” He panted slightly, taking a swig of the drink next to his bed. “That was amazing.”

“I know…” I gasped out, suddenly feeling that anxiety about it coming back. “Just so you know, I’m really not the type to do this.” I mumbled, he laughed in a low breathy tone.

“Stop thinking I’m judging you for any of this.” He smiled, pulling me a little closer to him, his million dollar smile beaming at me.

“I just… I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about me.” I sighed, allowing myself to be pulled closer to the dark haired boy.

“Well you know… I was kinda hoping that this could happen more often?” He smiled, he brushed my hair out of my face, sweat causing it to stick slightly, I raised an eyebrow, panicking that all my worries had just been confirmed. “No! I don’t just mean that, I mean tonight, me and you.”

“Me and you?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as he lay next to me slightly breathless.

“You know, getting stoned and skating just the two of us, having lunch together all the time, holding hands, cuddling and watching movies. You know, all that stuff that makes single people cringe.” He smiled sincerely, cuddling up to me.

“But… why… I’m hardly your usual type.” I tried to hide the concern in my voice, he kissed my forehead gently, pulling me close to him on the bed.

“Listen… if you think you’re not damn perfect then you’re stupid. You skate, you’re beautiful, intelligent, witty, you love music and you smoke, and you’re happy to just chill. I’ve liked you for ages but tonight I finally got the chance to really speak to you and get to know you, and you’re every bit as amazing as I thought, more even.” I blushed bright red, feeling him pull the covers over us, nuzzling his face into my hair.

“I really like you Bren… I’m just scared.” I mumbled into his chest, us snuggling up together in bed felt great.

“I know… but I swear, I won’t hurt you, I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t fuck up something so amazing. I really like you too.” He smiled, we heard Ryan and Sophia giggling downstairs, they’d just come in, Brendon chuckled. “We should probably try to get to sleep before they start making noise.”

“Ok…” I mumbled again, nuzzling into his chest. “Night Brendon.”

“Night babe.”

I really hope you like it guys <3

Monsta X - Bitten. (Shownu, Wonho, Minhyuk)

Okay, so I’ve watched people play The Last of Us and The Last of Us: Left Behind and I can’t wait for the second game! This idea popped into my head– if you were really close to the members or in a relationship with them and one of you had gotten bit (by a Clicker or a Zombie), what would you do? What would they do?

Warning: Curse words were used. Some mild graphic descriptions were used.

It’d be cool if you listened to the Goblin OSTs “Fate” and “Stay with Me” (piano ver.)


Originally posted by wonhontology

Shownu - No. This can’t be happening. Not here. Not today. He looked at the curved shape that pierced holes into your arm. It was the shape of a mouth that belonged to an infected. Its venom shot through your arm and while there wasn’t a known cure yet, there was no way to slow down the disease other than to sever the appendage. As painful as it was you sat down in an abandoned mall with Shownu and waited for the time when your eyes were completely torn away from reality and replaced by a monster that was no longer you. From all the times he’d said that he never cried, the time came. Shownu shot the last infected monster from behind and quickly wrapped your arm with a cloth he had torn from his jacket. “You can’t do this to me, not today… Not now…! Fuck!” His frustrations had caught up with him as reality. You saved his ass from several attacks and he had returned the favor by crafting weapons from Molotov Cocktails to Napalm “Pineapple” bombs. Now the both of you were left in a mall with limited resources. He sat you next to an old, glass desk near a kiosk. The light fixtures were nearly burnt out and the only thing left for actual light was the skylight from above. He couldn’t let the tears fall, but you lifted your callused, bruised, and bloody hand to his dirt covered one and whispered, “Shownu, it’s no use. I have only two options: Take the easy way out,” You gestured to the pistol that lied between his feet, “Or when I become someone I’m not, you can end it for me. Either way I have to be killed.” “And… the third option?” His eyes showed desperation, brown eyes that were looking for a different solution that weren’t brutal. Anything, just anything to keep you alive. You disagreed with the option of keeping you locked up until he found a cure. It’d be too long and you’d become even more destructive if you weren’t able to eat or anything. “What other option is there? Shownu, as much as I love you, go and fend for yourself. I’ll be fine.” “I can’t.” And shortly after that, you sunk your head, asking for some rest that you knew that you wouldn’t wake up from.

Originally posted by sweetramenwonho

Wonho - You were tackled by a half-turned male into a sewer that was located near the hospital. Water reaching to your waist, he had the malicious intention of drowning himself and bringing you down with him. If he couldn’t be saved, neither should you. Sanity and a common sense left his mind ever since he was bitten. A rumor passed around by almost-dead people said that the Lotus Hospital was carrying a vaccine that could potentially cure any infected person before they turn. Luckily, it wasn’t far. You felt air escaping your lungs as it slowed down your ability to reach for your shiv near your hand. Only a couple inches away… You felt the release on your throat and somewhat clean air entering your lungs as Wonho was able to bring a world of darkness to the man that attacked you. “Thanks.” You held onto your knees as you attempted to catch your breath. Suddenly, you noticed Wonho leaving without looking at you, saying, “Let’s go. Hurry up if you want to get to the hospital.” You didn’t object his words and wiped the blood off of your hands and followed him to the abandoned, somewhat intact building that was just a couple hundred feet ahead. As the both of you approached the doors, you stood back to examine his muscles that he worked for in order to survive, the scratches and bruises left by old comrades who refused to work with him, and the blood and dirt that stained his clothing. Wonho stared at himself in the glass, watching his own reflection mimic his words. “Tell me that you love me.” You knew what was going on, and neither of you wanted to admit it. “I love you, Wonho.” “I’m glad that words can’t infect another.” He turned around and moved his head that revealed a bite mark on his neck. “Words… are just words. Until then, take this and shoot me. Hell, by the time you find the cure, I’ll be done for. Now take it or I will.” Immediate sadness filled his eyes as he stared at you, waiting for your response. No matter how hard you tried to change his mind, the disease and time didn’t wait for either of you. Wonho was starting to change. He placed the gun in your hand, waiting for you to shoot. “I love you, too. Don’t forget about me.”

Originally posted by celes-tae

Minhyuk - “Minhyuk, look out!” You pushed him aside and aimed your arrow for a head shot. Luckily, the woman who was once your teacher in secondary school had fallen to her knees and the wince-colored liquid spilled from her temple. You never liked her in the first place but the guilt of having to kill someone tapped into the back of your head. Minhyuk was immediately pushed into another infected person, who was armed with a gun. He used to be a soldier. Minhyuk grunted and cursed out the man, using his forearm to press against the man’s neck and using his other hand to aim the bullet near his head. Gunshots were fired. Blood splattered onto his face which he showed no disgust for. He was used to it. “Are you okay?” You ran up to him and he only spat out saliva onto the concrete ground. The both of you were in a vacant city where he set up a few booby traps along the perimeter. Sure, resources were extremely limited, but you knew how to use them for extended periods of time. You saw him lying on the ground, breathing heavily, breaths uneven and staggering. The sound of raindrops filled the silent air, the water soaking the both of you. Neither of you bothered to care– you two went far worse than harmless raindrops. Minhyuk avoided your eyes and looked past your head, giving a weak smile to the sky in front of him. “I’m shot, and I’m bitten, and yet here I am, still smiling. Damn it.” Minhyuk croaked out, giving a weak laugh at his own situation. Your eyes trailed down his chest and saw the a crimson red hole on his stomach, and every time he coughed, blood was pumped out of his system. As you dug through your bag for medical supplies, he placed a muddied hand over yours. “It’s my time and besides, there’s no cure for this.” He turned his head over to you and lifted his left hand. Tears flowed down your bloodied cheeks, mixing in with the rain. Minhyuk felt the hot tears welling up in his eyes as he brought you closer to him, placing your ear above his heart. “You hear that? That’s my human heart beating for you. I love you… When I start forgetting and when the time comes for you to kill me… I love you. I’m sorry you have to be… alone. Remember our number one rule: Killings don’t come with regret, hesitation, or feelings.” He could only close his eyes and wait. “Minhyuk… I love you too.” “That’s good to…” He took in a sharp breath. “…Hear.”


Admin Mochi

Why Spider-Man Homecoming Was So Great

Probably should put a SPOILER WARNING, so I won’t get people mad at me if I accidentally spoiled something.

So, Spider-Man Homecoming. In my opinion, the best Spider-Man movie to date. The Toby McGuire ones, while okay, are very dated, and while I did like the Andrew Garfield ones personally, they tried way too hard. This one just knocked the rest out of the park.

Now, I could rant about the many things that made the movie great, like the humor, Michael Keaton as the Vulture, the possibilities of Spideychelle greatness (trust me, I could go on for HOURS on that one), etc. But there’s one thing I have yet to see anyone talk about.

See, Tom Holland Spider-Man IS NOT AN IDIOT. There is three times in this movie where Peter is given the option many teenagers have been given: the option to be selfish. To ignore what’s more important and take it easy. To impress/be with Liz. But Peter didn’t take that option. He knew what was at stake and took the option that made him MISERABLE.

I’ll list and detail these three times just to drive my point further.

1: Liz’s Party. Peter had been almost forced to go to that party because he was pressured into agreeing that Spider-Man would make it there. Thanks Ned… This is probably the weakest example, since he DID almost go through with it. He had the suit on and everything. But he was able to have second thoughts and say to himself, “This is stupid, what the heck am I doing?” or something along those lines. Whether he would’ve still done it after seeing the explosion is up to debate.

2: Washington D.C. Peter went to D.C. with the Decathlon team, mainly to track down Vulture and his goons. Literally as soon as soon as he walked out the hotel room door, he was greeted by Liz, who was sneaking into the hotel pool with the rest of the team, minus Ned. She invited him to come along, this unintentionally playing with his emotions. BUT HE DIDN’T COME ALONG. Peter once again made the decision to be miserable, as well as disappoint his crush.

3: The Homecoming Dance. This is the greatest example. Peter has gotten his suit taken away by Tony, and just spent the past week or so (I actually don’t know how long that time skip was) not being Spider-Man. He got to ask Liz out to the dance. And she accepted! Plus the fact that he was warned the MINUTE before he walked into the school that if he didn’t stay out of what was going down that night, Vulture will kill him and everybody he loves. But what’s the first thing he does when he walks into the dance (besides see Michelle wave and flip him off)? He walks right up to Liz and says, “I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.” and walks out to stop Vulture. That just speaks volumes to me.

I guess rejecting the invitation to join the Avengers is a fourth thing, but that’s at the end of the movie and after Peter’s character arc, so it was kind of foreseeable.

But the thing that speaks the most to me is the fact that, despite all these things, Peter is not entirely selfless. If he was, he would be a “Jesus-kun cliche”, as one of my friends lovingly calls it. His entire motive throughout the majority of the movie is to join the Avengers. That’s all he wants, and he will do everything to get to that. Not listening to Tony or Happy, unlocking his suit’s capabilities despite not being ready for it, exploiting his friends to catch the bad guys.

But that’s the beauty of it all. IT MAKES PETER MORE RELATABLE. The other movie versions of Spider-Man did stupid stuff with their powers for personal gain that made us face palm (looking at you Emo-Peter). If you were in Tom Holland Spider-Man’s shoes, who’s to say you realistically wouldn’t do the same stuff he did? I probably would!

This is a movie where you can easily relate to the main character. If you couldn’t, then a lot of scenes wouldn’t be NEARLY as effective as they would’ve been. My heart stopped when Liz’s dad opened the house door, just as Peter’s heart most likely did. That was intentional. It’s just more proof that Peter is the most relatable Spider-Man of the movies.

And that’s what makes Spider-Man Homecoming so great.

if mon-el changed “just to get into kara’s pants” then why did he not just leave and go back to daxam? Why didn’t he go back to being served on and being spoilt? Why didn’t he go back to daxam where he could get any woman he wanted? Why did he refuse to go with his parents and demand they send him back home? Why would he want to refuse to take the easy option anymore and want to be a hero? Why? Why you ask? Oh yeah because it’s a load of crap and we all know it

medication myth #5487

“It’s the easy way out.”

If i hear ONE MORE PERON say that taking medications for mental illnesses is the easy way out i will literally take the yoga routine you probably swear by and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.

if you are turning to meds to avoid the hard work of recovery or you believe someone you know is, I have one word for you

HAHAHAHA

medication stabilization is literally the hardest thing i’ve done. i was put on a traditional SSRI and it triggered HELLA BAD mood swings. (just the word Zoloft makes me itchy) an amazing hypomanic episode but the LOWEST low I ever felt and for the first time ever, suicidal thoughts. my psychiatrist at the time decided to DOUBLE the dose instead of stop it. i’m thankful for it because it made them realize i had bipolar 2 (which doesn’t respond well to SSRIs) BUT since then ive been on 6 different meds at 7 different dosages. all with intense side effects.

i was too hazed to realize how sick the meds were making me. my friends were supportive but didn’t know any different. luckily i had a friend who is a medical professional who saw that this was bad and helped me and now i have a new psychiatrist.

i currently take 4 meds a day and 1 as needed. all of these things have caused things like:
-weight gain
-weight loss
-sudden suicidal thoughts
-extreme urge to self harm
-sudden, helpless crying spells
-hair loss
-possible decreased liver function
-migraines
-extreme fatigue
-nausea
-AND A WHOLE LOT MORE
-shaking hands
-insomnia

i have to get my blood tested every time they change a dosage on a certain medication and if i drink more than a glass or two of wine i will probably be sick. being on medication comes with a lot of life changes and sacrifice sometimes too.

so before you EVER assume someone who has decided to explore the option of medication is taking the easy way out CHECK YOURSELF. not only are they probably dealing with crazy awful side effects but also fighting with professionals to listen to them on top of whatever their illness is doing to them. they don’t need an ignorant friend with misinformed medical information shoving a yoga mat and an avocado at them telling them to try harder.

if you want to help, ask (nonintrusive, nonjudgemental) questions. express concern. ask if there is anyway you can help. (i had a friend sleep on my floor until my mood stabilizer kicked in and the suicidal thoughts were gone.) be gentle. educate yourself but don’t you dare insinuate it’s easy because while im thankful as hell for medication and attribute the fact that I’m still here to it, it is so freaking hard.

end rant.

After a little bit of traveling while she’s figuring out exactly what she wants to do, Cat Grant decides revisit an old pen name.  She wrote a few children’s books when she was younger under the name Charity Malkin, mostly to settle a bet with Lois, but there was no reason Charity Malkin couldn’t come out of retirement.

She finds she enjoys it, and finishes her first book in record time.  She sends it in to CatCo’s publishing department, through the normal approval procedures.  Sure, she could just order it done, but Cat refuses to take the easy option.  Her employees have been trained to recognize quality, and if her book doesn’t pass muster, she’ll just have to try harder.

Her book is picked up, however, and the first limited run is snatched up quick enough that she’s approved for wider release.

Charity Malkin gets fanmail, drawings from little children and thank you letters from parents, but two letters are sent to Cat Grant specifically, despite her expecting at most one, or more likely zero.  After all, Lois was the only other person who knew who Charity Malkin was.

Sure enough, one of the cards is from her former colleague, congratulating her and insulting her in equal measure.  The other card didn’t come through the mail, but instead appeared on her kitchen counter along side a styrofoam container with breakfast from her favorite bistro in France.  Kara’s card was short, congratulating her on her return and hoping for more, with no explanation as to how she figured out Cat was the author or why she had read the book in the first place.

Fueled by her initial success, Cat keeps writing.  The average american family hadn’t been static over the years, and Cat refused to use the stereotypical 50s family.  She didn’t always make it the focus, but her books were quickly noted as some of the best new examples of non-traditional families available.  Divorce, Adoption, Gay Parents, Transgender characters, characters on the spectrum, and more.  Cat did her research, interviewed real families to make sure she was accurate, because she knew children deserved to see themselves in books.

Cat has never been willing to settle once she’s on a roll, and she starts writing for older kids, first chapter books, then some young adult fiction, all the diverse casts she had made her mark with.  She made sure anyone who read her books could find themselves in the pages, and from the fan letters that made it to her and the communities that sprang up, Cat had succeeded.

Kara kept sending her cards whenever she published something new, usually a few lines about what she thought, but sometimes, the whole card is full of words, and once or twice, there’s notebook pages torn out and stuffed in the card, and Cat reads every word, more than once.  Those letters always end up in her collection of favorite fanmail, alongside pictures of kids and families dressed as her characters, fanart of her heroes, and letters that brought a tear to her eye.

Charity Malkin was successful, but reclusive.  Cat had fun lurking on the official Charity Malkin forums, posting only occasionally, typically to end discussions that had gotten out of hand, or to critique particularly bad grammar.  Her favorite section was the creative writing boards, and encouraged everyone to contribute.  It was considered high praise to have TheCharityMalkin leave a comment, even when she only left a few words, because she rarely left more than that.

But Cat wanted to be able to interact with her fans more directly than through an internet filter, and began planning her reveal.  A press release would be boring, and a media campaign wasn’t the right strategy.  Inspiration struck when Supergirl landed on her balcony.

Supergirl hadn’t taken much convincing to agree to her plan, not that Cat expected it would.  Two weeks later, Supergirl landed in front of the children’s hospital for a publicized meet and greet.  A camera followed her as she met the kids and answered their questions.  Eventually the kids were assembled for storytime, and Supergirl introduced her friend, Charity Malkin.  The camera barely left her face as Cat read her new book, about an alien who came to earth, and how she had managed to adjust to life on a new planet.  The kids clapped for the book when she was done, and Cat warmed because she knew they weren’t clapping just because of who she was, because most of them still didn’t recognize her.  It was a change Cat didn’t know she would appreciate so much.

The video was sold to everybody pretty much immediately.  Cat let the media run with it, and refused to answer her phone, except when Lois called for a comment, and Cat only did that because she knew nothing either one of the said would be fit for print.

Cat kept writing, though she slowed down production somewhat now that she was public.  She refused to do a full book tour, but instead, she would fly out and did public readings and Q&A sessions in bookstores whenever it struck her fancy.  Charity Malkin also spoke at fan conventions, where she lectured on writing and storycraft, and gave maddeningly obtuse answers whenever she was asked about a spoiler.

It’s the happiest she’s been in years.

anonymous asked:

So I'm pretty much as a beginner of knitting as you can get. I can knit and purl, and own 1pair of 4.5mm knitting needles. I've been knitting for less than a year in between studies. I've got the basic scarf down pat I think, is there anything you can suggest for me?

Here are some easy options that take 4.5mm needles and are worked flat.  They should allow you to branch out a little from scarves and will introduce some new techniques such as lace or seaming.

Easy Fingerless Mitts by Roxanne Richardson - FREE!

Fancy Mug Cozy by Kirsten Hipsky - FREE!

Orchid Cowl by Jo Strong - FREE!

THEORY! *Spoilers*

Okay okay okay, so I have a theory (duh Maddi you already stated that)! I think Hiram is the one who shot Fred, I mean think about it. Hermione said it herself, those two working together would be a disaster, and after discussing it with Hiram she gave Fred the option to buy out but he refused. Hiram gave him the easy option but Fred didn’t take it, so he had to take matters into his own hands. He knew Fred was going to be at Pops, so he staged a robbery, and when he saw Fred, he took his shot. Jughead himself said it wasn’t coincidental too, but idk man. That seemed shady af, them talking about how Hiram was coming home, then the deal, and then Fred getting shot. I see you Riverdale writers, I see you.

You Compleat Me(ld)

So I am one of the folks who loves meld. Brisela is the big angel horror I’ve always dreamed of. Hanweir is my favorite legendary ooze that can’t actually be a commander. Chittering Host is… the easiest pair to get a lot of copies of and actually play a deck that gets to meld things consistently.

And personally I’ve felt Phyrexia could make great use of meld tech and just really make some creepy stuff. But I’d want it to be Phyrexia’s main schtick in this take and meld as is just doesn’t work as anything more than a creepy sprinkle on top of a set.

The solution is to make cards that can meld with more than just one specific counterpart, but how do you accomplish that?

(Image of two handmade cards, one basically Vampire Nighthawk and the other a sort of Sabertooth Outrider)

Here we have your normal ole creatures. A cute vampyr and a mean looking kitty cat. You might recognize them, save for a few bits of text down there at the bottom, Phyrexianize and Test Subject.

Phyrexianize would read something like:

Phyrexianize COST (COST, sacrifice this creature and a creature with test subject: Return them from your graveyard to the battlefield melded.)

The specific rules text, cost and stuff could all be tweaked. The important bit is that you have the action of phyresis here being to meld the card with Phyrexianize with a card that has Test Subject.

Test Subject just serves as indicator text for Phyrexianize to care about. That gives it something to look at other than the specific name like the current meld cards (it might work better in this case as a supertype or maybe a subtype). It also insures that you have a specific subset of cards that can ever be combined with the Phyrexianize cards–a bigger subset than our current meld cards, which name one other specific card (the smallest subset you could have really), but still a specific couple of cards, which is important because you get this…

(Image of the backs of the two handmade cards pushed right next to each other with a blank art box that combines over two cards, along with name and type lines that run across both cards)

You’ll notice a few things here that are all very intentional.

1. The name and type lines run the length of the first card so that it’s very obvious that the last bit overhanging onto the second card is a part of each of those. The name is hyphenated with the last word and would conceivably fit any noun there quite easily. It could be a Phyrexian Vampyr-Cat, -Dog, -Phelddagrif, you name it. Also I know I’m spelling Vampyr incorrectly and also that Phyrexian is not and likely never will be a creature type, but it really helps fill out the type line on the first card so it looks natural. It needs the room on the second card to fit the rest of the type.

2. The power and toughness are displayed on the left and right of each card, pushed together so each card contributes half and when melded the P/T is now displayed in the “center” of the melded card. What I did here is make the backside double the power and toughness of the respective creature contributing that part. That’s just an easy take on it, there are different options here though.

3. Each backside features all the rules text abilities from the front sides (minus Test Subject and Phyrexianize since those are no longer relevant). So combining the Flying, Deathtouch, Likelink with the First strike, Trample get you a creature with all those abilities.

Challenges:

I see the main challenge as the art. How do you make multiple pieces of art that can be convey a semblance of what the creature used to be, look different enough to be recognizable across the table, and yet also combine in an aesthetically pleasing manner with the other half which could be any one of a number of other pieces of art? I mean the two concepts I’ve brainstormed so far basically boil down to this:

A.

(image from a children’s mix and match dinosaur book)

B.

(image of Two Face from Batman)

Which to be fair I bet Magic artists could do some good work with, but I’ve only ever seen these very cartoony examples of this sort of thing and this would absolutely not fit Magic’s creative tone.

Actually, I think the art is the biggest challenge. There are likely some rules hurdles to figure out (I don’t know if meld supports this sort of use) and I imagine the development of these would be difficult. Otherwise my biggest concern would be complexity but I also think it’s so damn cool as to be worth that cost.

I’m also really attached to the particular flavoring of this as Phyrexians trying to perfect themselves. Take an essentially hopeless subject (Test Subject, that term probably isn’t the best but it fits for now) and use it’s best parts to make a better specimen even better.

Planet Dancetime: Social Skills and Functioning Labels

If you’re allistic, it might be difficult to imagine what life is like for an autistic person. That can make it difficult to write from an autistic perspective. In order to help facilitate understanding, I, Mod Aira, have come up with an extended metaphor that I hope will be helpful. This is the first in a planned series, and it will cover some of the basics of social interaction as well as the harm that functioning labels do.

Please note that this series is written from my perspective and according to my personal opinions and experience. It will not necessarily reflect the reality of all autistic people, but it is one authentic perspective.

Imagine that tomorrow, you wake up on another world. It’s called Planet Dancetime. The people there look just like humans, except their social rules are insane. They do a complicated dance while they talk to each other, and all communication is carried out in this dance-talk. At first, you can’t make any sense of it, but slowly you start to puzzle some of it out. When you speak to a woman, you have to stand on your right foot the whole time. When you speak to a man, you have to stand on your left. If someone is non-binary, you have to stand on your toes. You also have to touch the shoulder of the person you’re talking to every ten seconds exactly. If you don’t follow this rule of *precisely* every ten seconds, you’re being very rude. When you’re telling a happy story, you have to wiggle your shoulders, starting with the right side and working your way left. Sad stories are the opposite. For *angry* stories, the wiggle is in the eyebrows. You also have to indicate your emotional state and age at the time the story happened by a complicated motion in your fingers set to a specific beat, and your *current* emotional state by the particular angle at which you hold your elbows and wrists.

There are still countless other rules here, more than you can figure out. The Dancetime people are constantly making strange gestures and movements. The crazy thing is, it seems to be effortless for them. How can they possibly keep track of all these rules? You decide to ask someone.

The response is not positive. You get the most disdainful look you’ve ever seen, and the explanation, “It’s obvious. Just use common sense.”

Well that isn’t helpful. How could they possibly conceive of this system as being obvious? And if it’s so simple, then why can’t they explain it?

At long last, you come to an epiphany. Of course this system isn’t simple. In fact, it’s so complicated that the only way for them to manage it is for their brains to handle it subconsciously. A massive amount of their brainpower is devoted to decoding, remembering, and carrying out all these convoluted rules. And their bodies are naturally conditioned for it, too. They can stand on one leg for hours without any effort – it’s just the way they evolved. But you can’t. Your brain is busy doing other important things that these people hilariously can’t do (more on this another time), and it’s not about to take over all those extra responsibilities now. You have no easy options, and you’re stuck here now, so you have to make a choice.

Option one is to say – hell with it. Maybe you just don’t have it in you to do this – you just can’t get your head around it, and it’s impossible for you. Maybe you have a physical issue that prevents you from dance-talking, or you just don’t have the type of memory required to learn dance moves, or the multitasking ability necessary to count and talk at the same time. Or maybe you just decide: I’m not going to bother with their stupid rules. I’m going to stand on two feet when I talk, and I’m not going to count to ten silently in my head while I’m talking so I can time the shoulder-touches properly – I mean, who could even do that? I’m just going to be me, and they’re just going to have to deal with it.

This does not go well for you. When you fail to follow their dance-talk rules, these people freak out. Some of them are angry – how dare you insult me with your non-dance body language? Even worse, it turns out that some movements that you make entirely naturally which have nothing to do with conversation, or some aspects of your normal, natural body language, are actually grave insults in dance-talk. You can’t figure out which things you’re doing which are so wrong, and no one will explain it to you. Many people think you’re extremely rude. But some of them are scared or worried and are determined to figure out what’s wrong with you. You are quickly surrounded by “experts” who want to help you. After all, you couldn’t possibly survive without the ability to dance-talk. You obviously suffer from some kind of hideous disorder. You try endlessly to explain that you can talk just fine without the dancing, that there’s nothing wrong with you, but they won’t have it. If you talk without the dance moves, they ignore everything you say like it’s some kind of incomprehensible babble. If you can’t dance-talk, then you obviously have a disability, and you need to be cared for. You’re obviously not intelligent enough to communicate, so you’re automatically not intelligent enough to care for yourself. You wind up in an institution with the others who have been diagnosed with “low-functioning human disorder”, also known as “severe humanism”. The nurses look at you with pity in their eyes and don’t bother talking directly to you. You hear them talking (as though you’re not there) about the tragedy of your extreme human-ness, how terrible it must be to live that way, and what a burden you are to those around you. You try to scream: it wouldn’t be terrible if you’d just leave me alone! But your screams, lacking their accompanying dance moves, fall on deaf ears.

So let’s consider the other alternative. You can try to puzzle out the dance-language and see if you can fit in well enough to get by. Not everyone has this option – I mean, the dance-language is obscenely complicated, after all. But maybe you’re one of the lucky ones. Maybe you have a good memory for movements and are good at figuring out or guessing when to use each one. So you give it a shot. And after a lot of trial and error, you start to find some success. Your dance moves are still a bit off, and you get funny looks pretty frequently. Eventually, you get “diagnosed” with “high functioning human disorder” and told you should be fine as long as you put in enough effort. You ask that maybe someone teach you some of the dance moves, and you are rudely dismissed as being lazy or pretending to be disabled so that you can get more attention.

This is the same reaction you get every time you make a mistake. And of course, you will always make mistakes. There will always be days when your legs are simply too tired, and you have no choice but to stand on two feet for a while. Sometimes, when you’re trying to talk about something, you just can’t spare the brain power to count to ten over and over again, and you miss a few shoulder-touches. Sometimes you’ll get the wrist and elbow angle just slightly wrong and give entirely the wrong tone to a conversation. And sometimes you encounter a social situation you’ve never learned the moves for, and there’s no possible way for you to do it right.

Every single mistake is met with indignation. How dare you insult us that way? You apologize and try to explain that even though you’re pretty good at it, this dance-talk still doesn’t come easy for you. It doesn’t help. Your explanations are written off as lazy excuses. Everyone knows you are perfectly capable of using dance-talk. You do it all the time. The fact that you’re not doing it now obviously means that you are doing it on purpose. You are intentionally insulting those around you, and they don’t appreciate it.

The looks, the stares, the muttered insults, they eat away at you. You are doing your best, damn it. You are doing infinitely better than should ever have been expected of you. You put so much energy into the most basic conversations, you don’t even have enough left over to care for yourself. You haven’t been eating well, with no energy to cook. You suffer from constant anxiety – fear of the next mistake – when (not if) will it happen? How will they react? But no one appreciates that. No one helps. No one explains the mistakes you’ve made – and usually, you have no idea what you’ve done wrong. You’re expected to just figure it out on your own, and are punished for each misstep, because damn it, you might be technically human, but they’re not about to let you use your humanness as an excuse for rude or lazy behavior.

You feel the constant underlying threat all the time: if you can’t dance-talk like the rest of us, if you stop trying or make too many mistakes, then we’ll change our minds about you. We’ll change your diagnosis to low-functioning human disorder, and stick you in the institution with the others. We’ll never speak to you again. We’ll never look at you as a person again. You’ll just be a lump of flesh that we have to feed and bathe. So you’d better try harder.

The best case scenario you can hope for is that people will find out you’re human and say, “Oh, wow! You barely look human at all! You should be so proud of yourself.” Human is an insult. Not human is a compliment. That’s the world you find yourself in now. And sometimes you start to wonder – are they right? Is being human really a disability? Is there something wrong with me? Now you can add a fight against depression to the list of things you have to deal with. There are days when you wonder if the effort will ever be worth it. You feel hopeless and lost.

All because dance-talk doesn’t come naturally to you.

Now, disclaimer, here: this is a simplified analogy of how functioning labels can feel, and the ridiculous basis on which they are assigned. The reality is a little more complicated and there are more factors, some of which we’ll explore later. And as always, we repeat: everyone’s experience is different, and not all experiences are reflected here. This story is designed to help those who are not autistic start to understand what life is like for those who are. This really is how it feels for a lot of people, myself included. These are the choices I feel I have. I can relax and give up and just be “me” without apology, and then I am liable to lose everything – my job, my friends, my life. Or I can try to fit in and act like the others, at an enormous energy cost, and often not have the strength left over to take care of myself. They call me “high functioning”, but they’re ready to take that shiny little badge away at any moment – and they would have taken it away long ago if they saw how I am at home at the end of a stressful day.

A far, far better situation would be to do away with the functioning levels entirely. Judge each person based on their individual attributes, and try to understand that under other circumstances, they might be very different. Sometimes I can talk, and sometimes I can’t. Acting “normal” takes a lot of energy, and sometimes I don’t have enough left to do it. But I’m still able to live independently, and still have many strengths and abilities – many that “allistic” people typically do not have.

So please, when you’re thinking about writing an autistic character (and good for you! hooraaaayyyy!!!!), don’t think of them in terms of high- or low-functioning, in terms of “severe” or “mild” autism. Instead, think of a list of traits, what they’re good and bad at, what comes easy and what doesn’t. Your character is as individual as you are.

Happy writing!

-Mod Aira

Don’t take the easy option in life. A good example I use is your school years. If you cheat on every test or you get someone else to do all the work for you…when it comes to the exams or tests…you will fail.
Because you cheated.
Plain and simple.

You don’t know HOW to do the work because you have never really done it yourself. The same applies to fitness and health - you cannot cheat your way through it because you will fail every time.

Work hard and you will not only be where you want to be, but you can help others too. This is what I did and now I am able to teach and help YOU 💙 www.kaylaitsines.com.au/guides

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Daily life of a Shinigami
  • [Early hours of day--Shinigami Dispatch Society]
  • William: *begins day by keeping tabs on all of today's scheduled deaths for later*
  • Grell: Will~! Wiiiiiil~..
  • William: *eye twitch and quick adjust of glasses*..
  • Grell: I know you can hear me, Will~ The job I have assigned to me is way out of my league! Couldn't I have..something else? A tad easier perhaps?
  • William: The job you have assigned is the job you will carry out for the day. You'll never get any better if you always take the easy route. There is no option for switching out a job for another! You'll have to make-do with what you have.
  • Grell: (So cold~ I love it!) Oh alright~ I suppose I'll just..go over here then.
  • *slides in beside Ronald* Ronnie! I need to ask a favour of you-
  • William: *from across room* Don't try to ask Knox to do your bidding either!
You'll always have me to dance with...

snoopygirl11 over on AO3 asked for some Batjokes recs, and since I take indoctrinating people into liking my ships very very seriously, here in no particular order are my ten favourite Batjokes fics.

(This is a mix of movie and comic verse, so I’ve marked the recs with either a c or m to indicate which continuity they take place in).

  1. Innocence by Madni: C. A heartbreaking fic focussing on the effects of the death of Jason Todd on Batman and Joker’s relationship
  2. The Beguiling of Bruce Wayne by lucius_complex: M. Joker decides to seduce Bruce. Hlarious, heartbreaking and adorable, this is one of those fics that leaves for desperate for more
  3. And I, I Will Poison The Skies by AlexTuesday: C, WIP. The ultimate slow build fic, since it begins with them are children, this is one of the most interesting and original AUs for them I’ve ever read.
  4. An Experiment in Posthumous Subsistence by trill_gutterbug: M. The dead walk in Gotham city, and the last thing the survivors need is Joker on the loose.
  5. Interrogation by etothepii: M. Nothing deep or meaningful here, just some really hot well written sex.
  6. Beneath the Surface by ScintillatingVoid and Wardriven: M, WIP. An interesting character driven narrative, spiced up by some fantastic sex scenes and my favourite ever civillian (or is he) Joker.
  7. We Don’t Need No Stars by AlexTuesday: C. Making their second appearance on the list, this is the wonderful AlexTuesday’s take on how Jim Gordon views the relationship between Joker and Batman.
  8. His Love is Viral by Madni: M. This is such a ridiculous use of knowledge of Batman’s secret identity, I’m prepared to believe Joker would do it.
  9. burn it down till the embers smoke on the ground by messageredacted: M. A darkly claustrophic character piece, that never once takes the cheap and easy option in terms of plot or character.
  10. Saviour by Madni: C/M. And interesting plot, and plenty of appearances from other Arkhamites (which I always like). Joker is a little too sane, but it’s still a very enjoyable slow burn of a fic.

You could also try my own humble additions to the fandom, my batjokes week fics and my Batjokes AU

Way I see it, we got two options.
One, we take the easy way out.
It’s quick and painless.
I’m not a fan of option one.
Two, we fight.
There are a million ways we could’ve died today.
And a million ways we could die before tomorrow.
But we fight for every second we get to spend with each other.
Whether its two minutes… or two days… we don’t give that up.
I don’t want to give that up.
My vote?
Let’s just wait it out.
You know, we can be all poetic and just lose our minds together.
—  Neil Druckmann, The Last of Us

On Sunday, I hit 6 weeks since my surgery!

On Monday, I trained for the first time in 6 weeks. Pretty much cold turkey because I don’t go to a traditional gym and I hate running. I thought it was going to be a shitshow. The truth? I retained most, if not all, my cardiac function (based on an hour’s training), lost maybe 5% flexibility which is negligible given how bendy I am and my stability didn’t seem to be affected and I did try a 360 roundhouse to test my theory. No issues.

However, when I got home I had and still have a bit of soreness near my left incision. My doctor said this is normal so I’m still taking it easy (don’t train on Tuesdays anyway) and considering my options on/for Wednesday (ladies only class, mixed class or don’t go at all). There’s strengths and pitfalls to each so we’ll see where my body is at.

My total weight loss since surgery is 7lbs. I was 146 for the most part and now I’m 139*. I have lost a bit of muscle but it was largely body fat which is why it hasn’t come back. Assuming I get the okay from my doctor, I’m going to start a mini bulk in a few weeks because I don’t feel strong. I’m noticeably thinner and I’m just not happy at this weight.

Honestly, I need to recover from this recovery. XD

*I’m almost 6′

I Can’t Take This Anymore [klance]

just some frustrated pining and first kisses! hope you enjoy :)

read it here on ao3


Lance is – well, he’s frustrated. And having a bit of a crisis. Frustrated because of the crisis. Also, completely at a loss as to what to do.

He’s lying on his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, cogs turning as he tosses his bayard up in the air then catches it. The repetitive motion isn’t doing much to bring him closer to a solution, but he continues to do it.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Up and down – it slips past his fingers and smacks into his nose.

¡Mierda!” he hisses, the bayard clattering to the floor with a dull noise, and that’s pretty much a perfect analogy for how things have been going for him lately. He gets to his feet and half-heartedly kicks the inactive weapon, pacing slowly as he runs his hands through his hair and mutters angrily under his breath:

Keith estúpido, con su estúpido cabello y su estúpida cara. Que cabron.”

Keep reading

EP 10 and the Tendori Scene

I’ve seen a few people very confused about their scene on the rooftop. Mainly being, “fucking really Chidori?!”

Honestly, my first reaction was “CHIDORI REFUSING TO REJECT TENGA PROPERLY BECAUSE IT WOULDN’T HELP HER FEEL BETTER WOW WHAT THE FUCK GIRL”. Yeah, I did a lot of genuine shouting this episode. I suffered a lot.

But I didn’t want to believe that Chidori was that sort of person, so I went back over the scene multiple times and did some digging:

  • The gist of what Tenga was saying was that it must be harder to not be able to answer someone else’s feelings. He cares about Chidori, we know this, so he was basically asking Chidori to flat out reject him so that it would be easier for her. Tenga speaks from experience, as he has yet to respond directly to Nico.
  • Chidori didn’t understand his reasoning and logic. She said that that feeling wasn’t hers.
  • I understand this as Chidori not wanting to take the easy option, as that wouldn’t actually be easy for her. It wouldn’t make her feel any better so she wants to take the time to think about it and answer him properly.
  • Due to the type of person Chidori is, (she shares others’ pain, we saw this during the test of bravery episode when she spoke about Katsuhira having his money stolen), rejecting Tenga - thus hurting him - would hurt her as well.

Long story short, Tenga thought it would be easier on Chidori if she were to just reject him outright, and Chidori disagrees with that.