Cynical Reply
COHORTS IN CYNICISM
happy bunnyisms
22 November 2009 @ 01:13 pm
qaficons @ 2009-11-22T20:17:00
22 November 2009 @ 08:09 am
![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
noteverything ♥ ♥I hope you have an amazing day filled with joy and fun and people you love. *hugs*
22 November 2009 @ 09:37 am
*Happy Birthday to my lovely big sister*
Wishing the happiest of birthdays to my most darling noteverything. *hugs*
Please know I am thinking of you today, as always, and I hope your day is as wonderful as you are. I am blessed to have you as a friend and sister. *hugs you some more*
I love you!
♥
( I haven't drooled over Brian in quite a while, but don't you think his eyes look greener here? :D :D :D )
noteverything. *hugs*Please know I am thinking of you today, as always, and I hope your day is as wonderful as you are. I am blessed to have you as a friend and sister. *hugs you some more*
I love you!
♥
( I haven't drooled over Brian in quite a while, but don't you think his eyes look greener here? :D :D :D )
Current Mood: 
cheerful
cheerful21 November 2009 @ 08:28 pm
Cute nephew story
So, my little 4 year old nephew's other aunt, his mom's sister, took him to the Academy of Science the other day. In the kids' education area, a naturalist had a boa and was telling the kids about them. Every question he asked the kids about boas, my little nephew's hand shoots up, and he knows the answer -- what they eat, how they eat, where they come from, everything. So the guy asks if he has a boa, and my nephew says, yes, he has two, named Crawl and Yellow. I'm sure the guy was hugely impressed, both at my nephew's vast knowledge of boas and the fact that he had two of them at home at such a tender age. What my little nephew failed to mention, and the guy never found out, is that his boas are...
21 November 2009 @ 11:01 pm
New Stuff
I don't like to share stuff when it's in its early phases for a lot of reasons. For one, it usually takes a couple false starts before I start rolling. Two, creating expectations in other people can steer me off my course before I have one. Three, I can't ever promise until I'm at least a third of the way in that the story will even work. All of that is still true, but for some reason, I want to talk about these guys.
They nagged a bit, made me write out the first few pages while I was still trying to finish No Souvenirs, but that's not why it's so different. For starters, the characters are much younger, twenty-one and twenty-two, though since they have such train wrecks as back stories, life has aged them. And because of their respective train wrecks, they have really weird ways of looking at the world.
So here. It doesn't have a title, and this may not be the right place to start the story, but for anyone who wants to know, this is what is eating my brain. And at a hell of a clip, too.
Chapter 1
John Andrews' first experience with public education was as a twenty-one year old freshman at the University of Albany. In his first class of 500, give or take the people standing, a girl passed out, two other girls made out and a drug deal went down two rows behind him. By the end of the week, John had learned that college was a lot like training camp. Less weight training, still lots of bad food.
In that week, seventeen different flyers for parties, clubs, and political rallies came flying under his dorm room door. Each of them went up on the otherwise empty bulletin board in his room, except the one from the Disabled Students’ Association, which had been hand-delivered. The guy with the hearing aid had been the only one who'd even noticed—or at least said anything about John's cane. That flyer in eye-hemorrhage inducing orange went immediately into the trash.
John didn't need it, or the Disabled Students' Association or the handicapped room the university had given him—though having no roommate and a private bathroom was a plus. John wasn't exactly disabled. He didn't always need the cane—unless he made a quick move and lost his balance, but it didn't happen all the time anymore. He just couldn't drive. Or watch a tennis match. Or look out of a second story window.
Or ever get on a dive platform again.
One of the flyers he’d saved was for a get-to-know-you meeting for some environmental club. Everyone wanted to save the planet. Maybe that was something he could do. Life: Plan B had to start somewhere.
Four-fifty-six Madison Place was somewhere downtown and it took him two buses and a walk down a couple of dark blocks to get there. John had discovered walking was easier in the dark. No contending with the blurs from bright light, less noise. And even if he did stagger, fewer people were around to see him trip over apparently thick air. Now that he was on the right street, it wasn't hard to tell which house it was. Lights on, music blaring bright enough on its own, and the added confirmation in the form of a young man puking off the front porch. Getting to know the members of the environmental club apparently required large amounts of alcohol.
John propped his cane up behind some definitely non-recycled trash on the porch and went inside, remembering just in time not to shake his head in disgust. He didn't have a problem if people wanted to play beer pong and call it a club meeting. He just thought that if they were going to call themselves Students for a Greener Tomorrow they might use non-plastic cups and recycle their empties.
He hadn’t needed any pills today. No headaches. No heaving. He could probably have a beer. It wasn’t as if he was driving. And hey, at least the cups were green.
John negotiated his way to the keg. He’d been to his fare share of parties, all over the world. The Germans were always had something going on in their dorm at any event, and if they didn't the Brits did. The Brazilians threw a two-week long celebration during the Pan American Games, though John's memory of it was a little fuzzy because he'd gotten knocked down to silver by two freaking tenths of a point and had decided that it was a good time to experience being spectacularly drunk. The resulting hangover had been the benchmark worst experience of his life—until he found out how bad things could really suck. He found a wall to lean on and watched the beer pong game.
John was aware of the look for a full minute before he began the slow process of turning to see who was aiming it at the side of his head. He hoped it wasn’t someone trying to remember where they knew him from. It usually turned out to be from the cereal box. He’d already suffered through five tearful--on their part--encounters with girls who thought it was so very tragic and how could he bear it and what was he going to do with himself now.
John wished he knew the answer to that last one.
He turned, and sometimes it didn’t matter how slowly he did it. Something clicked over in his brain and the world burst into glittering confetti and kaleidoscopes—two things he’d never enjoy again. Nausea set his stomach on the spin cycle and pain sparkled silver and white through his head. The flashes of color slowed, settled into refracted light. Almost like a bad 3D effect, bending the edges of whatever he tried to focus on.
And in this case it was a guy’s face. The pain faded and took the nausea with it, which John thought was only fair since they always came as a each other's date. But the weird scattered crystal effect kept going on for a full minute, white with red and black streaks, as John tried to focus on the guy's face.
Red lips, dark for a guy, but the color didn't look artificial, more like he bit them a lot. Hair a warm brown, almost shaved on the sides and spiky on top. His eyes—now that the broken glass effect had faded, John could finally see his eyes—or maybe this was another weird thing from the fall and whatever it had done to John's head, because those dark eyes looked back at him like John had every answer in the world. Like John was Jesus and a Gold Medal and the guy holding a check for a million dollar-endorsement all at once.
John's hands got cold. And then the dark gaze dropped to make a long slow trip back up John's body, pausing for a long stare at John's crotch where the even the loose fit of his Dockers couldn't hide what that attention was doing to John's dick.
The guy noticed all right. His tongue swept over his full bottom lip. A sauna-heat rushed over John's body, pricking his skin even as it melted his bones. Jeez. Was it really this easy? After all that sneaking around and crap with Roald on tour, here you could just have a guy check you out at a party and that was it?
John might not have a lot of experience, but he knew what this was. Cruising. He’d even seen the 1976 movie with Al Pacino. It hadn’t worked out too well for the characters in that movie, but it wasn’t 1976 anymore.
So. In the middle of this party with straight couples slobbering on each other and people half-passed out on the beer pong cups the one gay guy had found him. And it hadn't even taken a flyer from whatever gay student organization they had here.
No, John didn’t have a lot of experience but he had seen a lot of movies, though not as many of the kind that would help him out in this situation as he'd like. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets so that his fingers framed his dick and met the look in the other guy’s dark eyes. He smiled and walked up to John, steps nowhere near as steady as his gaze.
“Wanna get out of here?”
John would have nodded, but that would have gotten the whole kaleidoscope going again, so he blinked. Apparently that was good enough because the guy knocked back whatever was left in his cup—which didn't smell like beer—and tossed the cup away.
No way was John getting into a car with this guy. Sexy lips, eyes and seriously ripped arms or not. His life might suck right now, but he wasn't ready to become a drunk driving statistic.
"I don't have a car."
"Me either."
John thought of the long bus ride back to his dorm. "I live on campus, uptown."
The other guy hooked his finger through the belt loop on John's khakis and pulled him close enough that their hips touched. The guy's breath hit John's cheek, warm, almost enough to burn with the fumes from whatever had been in that cup. "I'm right around the block. Okay with you?"
A hot guy's hand was a few inches from John's very happy dick, and his lips were even closer to John's ear. Like any second he'd be kissing him and yes, it was okay with him. This guy wasn't Roald and apparently didn't give a shit if anyone else knew he was gay. And since no one was handing out endorsements for brain-damaged former gold medalists, neither did John.
Belatedly, John realized the guy was waiting for an answer. "Umm, yeah."
"So let's go."
They nagged a bit, made me write out the first few pages while I was still trying to finish No Souvenirs, but that's not why it's so different. For starters, the characters are much younger, twenty-one and twenty-two, though since they have such train wrecks as back stories, life has aged them. And because of their respective train wrecks, they have really weird ways of looking at the world.
So here. It doesn't have a title, and this may not be the right place to start the story, but for anyone who wants to know, this is what is eating my brain. And at a hell of a clip, too.
Chapter 1
John Andrews' first experience with public education was as a twenty-one year old freshman at the University of Albany. In his first class of 500, give or take the people standing, a girl passed out, two other girls made out and a drug deal went down two rows behind him. By the end of the week, John had learned that college was a lot like training camp. Less weight training, still lots of bad food.
In that week, seventeen different flyers for parties, clubs, and political rallies came flying under his dorm room door. Each of them went up on the otherwise empty bulletin board in his room, except the one from the Disabled Students’ Association, which had been hand-delivered. The guy with the hearing aid had been the only one who'd even noticed—or at least said anything about John's cane. That flyer in eye-hemorrhage inducing orange went immediately into the trash.
John didn't need it, or the Disabled Students' Association or the handicapped room the university had given him—though having no roommate and a private bathroom was a plus. John wasn't exactly disabled. He didn't always need the cane—unless he made a quick move and lost his balance, but it didn't happen all the time anymore. He just couldn't drive. Or watch a tennis match. Or look out of a second story window.
Or ever get on a dive platform again.
One of the flyers he’d saved was for a get-to-know-you meeting for some environmental club. Everyone wanted to save the planet. Maybe that was something he could do. Life: Plan B had to start somewhere.
Four-fifty-six Madison Place was somewhere downtown and it took him two buses and a walk down a couple of dark blocks to get there. John had discovered walking was easier in the dark. No contending with the blurs from bright light, less noise. And even if he did stagger, fewer people were around to see him trip over apparently thick air. Now that he was on the right street, it wasn't hard to tell which house it was. Lights on, music blaring bright enough on its own, and the added confirmation in the form of a young man puking off the front porch. Getting to know the members of the environmental club apparently required large amounts of alcohol.
John propped his cane up behind some definitely non-recycled trash on the porch and went inside, remembering just in time not to shake his head in disgust. He didn't have a problem if people wanted to play beer pong and call it a club meeting. He just thought that if they were going to call themselves Students for a Greener Tomorrow they might use non-plastic cups and recycle their empties.
He hadn’t needed any pills today. No headaches. No heaving. He could probably have a beer. It wasn’t as if he was driving. And hey, at least the cups were green.
John negotiated his way to the keg. He’d been to his fare share of parties, all over the world. The Germans were always had something going on in their dorm at any event, and if they didn't the Brits did. The Brazilians threw a two-week long celebration during the Pan American Games, though John's memory of it was a little fuzzy because he'd gotten knocked down to silver by two freaking tenths of a point and had decided that it was a good time to experience being spectacularly drunk. The resulting hangover had been the benchmark worst experience of his life—until he found out how bad things could really suck. He found a wall to lean on and watched the beer pong game.
John was aware of the look for a full minute before he began the slow process of turning to see who was aiming it at the side of his head. He hoped it wasn’t someone trying to remember where they knew him from. It usually turned out to be from the cereal box. He’d already suffered through five tearful--on their part--encounters with girls who thought it was so very tragic and how could he bear it and what was he going to do with himself now.
John wished he knew the answer to that last one.
He turned, and sometimes it didn’t matter how slowly he did it. Something clicked over in his brain and the world burst into glittering confetti and kaleidoscopes—two things he’d never enjoy again. Nausea set his stomach on the spin cycle and pain sparkled silver and white through his head. The flashes of color slowed, settled into refracted light. Almost like a bad 3D effect, bending the edges of whatever he tried to focus on.
And in this case it was a guy’s face. The pain faded and took the nausea with it, which John thought was only fair since they always came as a each other's date. But the weird scattered crystal effect kept going on for a full minute, white with red and black streaks, as John tried to focus on the guy's face.
Red lips, dark for a guy, but the color didn't look artificial, more like he bit them a lot. Hair a warm brown, almost shaved on the sides and spiky on top. His eyes—now that the broken glass effect had faded, John could finally see his eyes—or maybe this was another weird thing from the fall and whatever it had done to John's head, because those dark eyes looked back at him like John had every answer in the world. Like John was Jesus and a Gold Medal and the guy holding a check for a million dollar-endorsement all at once.
John's hands got cold. And then the dark gaze dropped to make a long slow trip back up John's body, pausing for a long stare at John's crotch where the even the loose fit of his Dockers couldn't hide what that attention was doing to John's dick.
The guy noticed all right. His tongue swept over his full bottom lip. A sauna-heat rushed over John's body, pricking his skin even as it melted his bones. Jeez. Was it really this easy? After all that sneaking around and crap with Roald on tour, here you could just have a guy check you out at a party and that was it?
John might not have a lot of experience, but he knew what this was. Cruising. He’d even seen the 1976 movie with Al Pacino. It hadn’t worked out too well for the characters in that movie, but it wasn’t 1976 anymore.
So. In the middle of this party with straight couples slobbering on each other and people half-passed out on the beer pong cups the one gay guy had found him. And it hadn't even taken a flyer from whatever gay student organization they had here.
No, John didn’t have a lot of experience but he had seen a lot of movies, though not as many of the kind that would help him out in this situation as he'd like. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets so that his fingers framed his dick and met the look in the other guy’s dark eyes. He smiled and walked up to John, steps nowhere near as steady as his gaze.
“Wanna get out of here?”
John would have nodded, but that would have gotten the whole kaleidoscope going again, so he blinked. Apparently that was good enough because the guy knocked back whatever was left in his cup—which didn't smell like beer—and tossed the cup away.
No way was John getting into a car with this guy. Sexy lips, eyes and seriously ripped arms or not. His life might suck right now, but he wasn't ready to become a drunk driving statistic.
"I don't have a car."
"Me either."
John thought of the long bus ride back to his dorm. "I live on campus, uptown."
The other guy hooked his finger through the belt loop on John's khakis and pulled him close enough that their hips touched. The guy's breath hit John's cheek, warm, almost enough to burn with the fumes from whatever had been in that cup. "I'm right around the block. Okay with you?"
A hot guy's hand was a few inches from John's very happy dick, and his lips were even closer to John's ear. Like any second he'd be kissing him and yes, it was okay with him. This guy wasn't Roald and apparently didn't give a shit if anyone else knew he was gay. And since no one was handing out endorsements for brain-damaged former gold medalists, neither did John.
Belatedly, John realized the guy was waiting for an answer. "Umm, yeah."
"So let's go."
21 November 2009 @ 07:21 pm
The windy rambly thoughts of Xie
So, I've been working on Directions today.... it's so good to feel the fic flowing again. :)
I am going to try to finish it this weekend and send it for beta, although I may need next weekend to get it done. I should probably wait until after the Thanksgiving weekend to post it, shouldn't I?
In other news, I have bunnies for a Xena/Gabrielle fic, a Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer fic, and a Michael/Ben fic, and NO ONE but me really wants to read any of those things. It makes me sad, yo.
Although I also have a Drew/Emmett bunny and I know at least Travis likes to read those!
I am going to try to finish it this weekend and send it for beta, although I may need next weekend to get it done. I should probably wait until after the Thanksgiving weekend to post it, shouldn't I?
In other news, I have bunnies for a Xena/Gabrielle fic, a Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer fic, and a Michael/Ben fic, and NO ONE but me really wants to read any of those things. It makes me sad, yo.
Although I also have a Drew/Emmett bunny and I know at least Travis likes to read those!
21 November 2009 @ 02:38 pm
Last night I was working on icons for 
queer_as_xmas and was able to get quite a few done for submission. You will be able to see those once they are revealed in a few weeks. I was inspired though and kept going this morning.
Comments and Credit always appreciated. Please do not alter in any way
Upload icons to your own computer/server NO HOTLINKING!!!
How to credit here
( Icons under the cut )
queer_as_xmas and was able to get quite a few done for submission. You will be able to see those once they are revealed in a few weeks. I was inspired though and kept going this morning. Comments and Credit always appreciated. Please do not alter in any way
Upload icons to your own computer/server NO HOTLINKING!!!
How to credit here
( Icons under the cut )
Current Mood: 
accomplished
accomplished21 November 2009 @ 06:09 pm
Wanna bet that mpreg is real? LOL!!!
OMG PEEPOLL,mpreg is real and I have the evidence!!!!
*iz a dork*
(Don't be afraid to look under the cut.It isn't THAT bad.REALLY!!)
( So,to make a long story short.... )
Talking about Xmas...have you been naughty or nice? *giggles*
If you would like to get a Xmas card from good old Germany with lots of teh love on it/in it, all you have to do is to PM me or email (qafmaniac@googlemail.com) me your address.
If you gave it to me last year I still have it BUT if you've moved to a new place I totally,as in TOTALLY NEED your new addy. ;)
*pokesvl_redreign♥ and not_yet_defined♥*
*goes back to play with my new mpreg!ass!baby*
ARRGHH,see?He really needs a name!
*iz a dork*
(Don't be afraid to look under the cut.It isn't THAT bad.REALLY!!)
( So,to make a long story short.... )
Talking about Xmas...have you been naughty or nice? *giggles*
If you would like to get a Xmas card from good old Germany with lots of teh love on it/in it, all you have to do is to PM me or email (qafmaniac@googlemail.com) me your address.
If you gave it to me last year I still have it BUT if you've moved to a new place I totally,as in TOTALLY NEED your new addy. ;)
*pokes
vl_redreign♥ and not_yet_defined♥**goes back to play with my new mpreg!ass!baby*
ARRGHH,see?He really needs a name!
Current Location: home...playing with my new "baby"
Current Mood: 
crazy
crazy21 November 2009 @ 02:30 pm
IJ Holiday Sale
We are starting this years InsaneJournal holiday sale. From now until the end of the day Friday, November 27 we are going to be holding a sale on Self-Committed[paid] accounts and Extra Userpics.
The prices are be as follows
Self-Committed[paid]
1 Month -> $5
6 Month ->$15 $10
12 Month ->$25 $18
Extra Userpicx
6 Month ->$10 $5
12 Month ->$20 $15
Then on Friday November 27th from 8am until 4pm (Eastern US time) we will be running a very special sale on Permanently Insane accounts.
The prices are be as follows
Self-Committed[paid]
1 Month -> $5
6 Month ->
12 Month ->
Extra Userpicx
6 Month ->
12 Month ->
Then on Friday November 27th from 8am until 4pm (Eastern US time) we will be running a very special sale on Permanently Insane accounts.
21 November 2009 @ 01:43 pm
21 November 2009 @ 06:00 pm
Episode 106
So sorry I didn't post the reminder sooner, but tomorrow, Sunday, at 8pm CET, we will be marathoning 105! Hope to see everyone there!
ETA: I'm an idiot. Its 106 not 105. *face palm*
ETA: I'm an idiot. Its 106 not 105. *face palm*
21 November 2009 @ 11:28 am
Brian/Justin 5 animated Thanksgiving, 5 animated B/J Humor Sex
21 November 2009 @ 08:10 am
Icon post because.....
vl_redreign wanted bedhead!Brian. ;)Teaser:
( More bedhead!Brian... )
Do we need some sexy bedhead!Justin now?
What do you think? ;)
Current Location: home...hopes that breakfast will be ready soon
Current Mood: 
hungry
hungry20 November 2009 @ 11:22 pm
No really I should be. I have to wake up in about seven hours to be awake enough to work. But theatre does that to a person--so I still have some time before I'm calm enough to sleep.
Anyways...
1. My mum apparently doesn't like to hear about me using birth control. Why? Something about how it just seems odd to hear coming out of my mouth...maybe it's more that she never thought I'd have actual sex...
2. I have insurance until the end of December...so yay! I can get my teeth fixed and I can look into seeing if the state insurance will pay for the non-hormonal i.u.d. Which would be awesome if they did.
3. Black Friday...how I loath thee. Why? Because on this bad commercial day...I have to be in to work for 4 a.m. until noon. O.O Why?? There's a good bloody reason my availability starts at 10 you fucking idiots! I don't work the night before, but I'm considering that just maybe I won't sleep the night before because what would the point be? I'd have to be awake by at least 2:30! I also only work three days next week--Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday. Tuesday's not too bad, but Friday (4 to 12) and Saturday (7 to 2) will fucking kill me. If I have to work the Sunday after that Saturday I think I might just call out from sheer exhaustion.
4. See above. So upset and frustrated. Also...I might have to make some wheat germ bars because well the only thing my managers will likely have provided for the lowly employees is fucking donuts and super sugary pastries.
5. Alas soon the play ends--tomorrow night actually. I'm not sure yet if I'll make it to the cast party, but I do have to work, go home to shower and eat and then get back to the theatre tomorrow night. Luckily, I do not have to work Sunday.
6. I can clean house (because my mum isn't) and do laundry on either Sunday or Monday. Bonus!
7. My first pay check is less than a week away!!
8. I will still have foodstamps next month. They have to wait for four paychecks before making a decision so yay!
Anyways...
1. My mum apparently doesn't like to hear about me using birth control. Why? Something about how it just seems odd to hear coming out of my mouth...maybe it's more that she never thought I'd have actual sex...
2. I have insurance until the end of December...so yay! I can get my teeth fixed and I can look into seeing if the state insurance will pay for the non-hormonal i.u.d. Which would be awesome if they did.
3. Black Friday...how I loath thee. Why? Because on this bad commercial day...I have to be in to work for 4 a.m. until noon. O.O Why?? There's a good bloody reason my availability starts at 10 you fucking idiots! I don't work the night before, but I'm considering that just maybe I won't sleep the night before because what would the point be? I'd have to be awake by at least 2:30! I also only work three days next week--Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday. Tuesday's not too bad, but Friday (4 to 12) and Saturday (7 to 2) will fucking kill me. If I have to work the Sunday after that Saturday I think I might just call out from sheer exhaustion.
4. See above. So upset and frustrated. Also...I might have to make some wheat germ bars because well the only thing my managers will likely have provided for the lowly employees is fucking donuts and super sugary pastries.
5. Alas soon the play ends--tomorrow night actually. I'm not sure yet if I'll make it to the cast party, but I do have to work, go home to shower and eat and then get back to the theatre tomorrow night. Luckily, I do not have to work Sunday.
6. I can clean house (because my mum isn't) and do laundry on either Sunday or Monday. Bonus!
7. My first pay check is less than a week away!!
8. I will still have foodstamps next month. They have to wait for four paychecks before making a decision so yay!
Current Mood: 
blank
blank20 November 2009 @ 07:29 pm
qaficons @ 2009-11-21T01:18:00
20 November 2009 @ 11:08 am
Emmett Wallpaper
I know I have been really absent lately, RL has really gotten out of hand. Since my daughter and her two children have moved into our apartment, things have been really chaotic. Please just nudge me every once in a while to remind me that I have a life outside of grandchildren. It seems that I have become the baby sitter once more.
I was going through some of my older graphic post over atpfodge over on LJ and realized that I've never posted this wallpaper that I made of Emmett anywhere.
Enjoy.
I was going through some of my older graphic post over at
pfodge over on LJ and realized that I've never posted this wallpaper that I made of Emmett anywhere. 
Enjoy.
Current Mood: 
bitchy
bitchy20 November 2009 @ 12:24 pm
Hi! My name is Minxie…
…and I'm a submissive. As in, a contracted and collared sub to my husband, Matt. D/s, BDSM, leather, lifestyle, call it what you will. It is what it is.
Originally, I intended to post something like an introduction because, as my fandoms branch out, there are new people on my flist. And I tend to be loud and opinionated when it comes to head exploding kink fics. Figured offering some insight to me might help explain the tangent rants I sometimes have. Along with the fact that most, if not all, of my fics have some display of power dynamics, no matter how subtle.
I'm sure those of you who know me best find that to be an understatement. Heh.
This has morphed, through conversations with friends, into not only a hey, this is me post, but also one that, for lack of tact on my part, is a whoa! let's think about this before you write it post. Mainly because BDSM comes under enough fire without having misleading works of fiction floating around out there stirring up more trouble than they're worth.
And, honestly, not trying to be a bitch, but if a piece of fiction disregards the basic principles of safe, sane, and consensual they really are more trouble than they're worth. They set a stage for others, those not in the scene, that can lead to misunderstandings, arguments, and, most important, serious injury.
Not cool.
Not when it takes just a few lines of dialogue, or even implied conversation to lend believability and credibility to the work.
To that end, I've started a list. ( Which is actually quite funny seeing as I despise lists. )
Got questions? Ask 'em. I'd rather you ask me something embarrassing than you make my head go splodey in the next fic I run across.
* * *
Whoa! Additional Lifestyle discussions taking place...
irana is talking about consent, SSC, and RACK. You can read that post here.
snapesgirl_62 is talking about polyamory. You can read that post here.
Originally, I intended to post something like an introduction because, as my fandoms branch out, there are new people on my flist. And I tend to be loud and opinionated when it comes to head exploding kink fics. Figured offering some insight to me might help explain the tangent rants I sometimes have. Along with the fact that most, if not all, of my fics have some display of power dynamics, no matter how subtle.
I'm sure those of you who know me best find that to be an understatement. Heh.
This has morphed, through conversations with friends, into not only a hey, this is me post, but also one that, for lack of tact on my part, is a whoa! let's think about this before you write it post. Mainly because BDSM comes under enough fire without having misleading works of fiction floating around out there stirring up more trouble than they're worth.
And, honestly, not trying to be a bitch, but if a piece of fiction disregards the basic principles of safe, sane, and consensual they really are more trouble than they're worth. They set a stage for others, those not in the scene, that can lead to misunderstandings, arguments, and, most important, serious injury.
Not cool.
Not when it takes just a few lines of dialogue, or even implied conversation to lend believability and credibility to the work.
To that end, I've started a list. ( Which is actually quite funny seeing as I despise lists. )
Got questions? Ask 'em. I'd rather you ask me something embarrassing than you make my head go splodey in the next fic I run across.
Whoa! Additional Lifestyle discussions taking place...
irana is talking about consent, SSC, and RACK. You can read that post here.snapesgirl_62 is talking about polyamory. You can read that post here.20 November 2009 @ 10:22 am
For graphic makers, I found an automated-effects website: http://www.lunapic.com/editor/. Check it out and let me know what you think! Do you know of any other websites like this?
I took what I made on the website, messed around more with PS, and added a BJ pic, to get this:
I took what I made on the website, messed around more with PS, and added a BJ pic, to get this:
20 November 2009 @ 01:53 pm