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#hmmm this probably qualifies as

rbbrbikerthorp · 1 year

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Graduating Law Student Transformed Into A Skinboi

It’s the culmination of several months hard work; yet I can chalk up another successful transformation.

As you look at him now, you don’t need me to tell you there’s no way back to the life he once imagined. I have taken away everything he used to be and I have remade him into what will be more appropriate life for him to lead.

You can see the total adulation, respect and appreciation for what I have turned him into. He knows he’s a skinhead now, no questions, no dissent, no complaints, no regrets - just a proud skinhead.

-------------------

Let me tell you just a little about who I am. I’m a gay skinhead in my late forties, living in a nondescript English town in the Midlands. I’ve been one since my early teens. As a young teen in the Eighties I’d hang out with skins in their late teens/early twenties who used to incentivise me to encourage my classmates to become new members of ‘their skinhead gang’. With any money they’d get from work, whether that was stacking shelves, apprenticeships, or learning a trade, they’d buy stuff like ciggies, lager and cider, on occasions, even tickets to the footy and offer these things around as ‘rewards’ to new lads.

And it worked. Word got around that you could do cool things when you became ‘one of us’. We looked out for one another, and if any of the members got into ‘trouble’ we’d be right there with them. There were what could be described of as ‘terms and conditions’ for members to comply with: DMs (black or oxblood) had to be worn in and out of school, 10 hole, preferably and with coloured laces. Outside it was boots plus black or red Harrington (Crombies were also allowed) over a Fred Perry top along with tight, shortened jeans and heads shaved as short as they could get away with. ‘Start ‘em young and keep them for life’ was our mantra.

Enough of the past, so back to the present.

I had been planning my next project. I had three potential ‘candidates’ to choose from; two would be left to carry on blissfully unaware how close they came to being transformed. One ‘fortunate’ lad would be taken by me and given a completely new life.

Some weeks ago I was in a coffee shop when one of potential lads I’d been tracking entered looking rather flustered. It was a perfect opportunity to take a good look at him. “Around twenty, height five ten, maybe five eleven, footballer’s build, dressed in a sharp looking suit - must care about his appearance - hmmm that bodes well for his future life”. The great thing about making coffees to order is that I was able to more fully assess this candidate - and I liked what I had seen. Eventually he got what he came for - four coffees in one of those egg box-like cardboard trays - and left. I decided this lad would probably be my preferred choice.

To confirm this I followed him discreetly all the way to the five floor building, which happened to be the offices of a law firm. He was way too young looking to be a qualified lawyer, so I concluded he was possibly still in law school, combining his studies with some ‘on-the-job’ work. If I step in, I could save him from a life of tediousness: of clock watching, pen pushing, keyboard strokes and general stress. I’d give him a simpler life as a skinhead. He would be waving goodbye to the potential of a five bedroom house, Mercedes and Rolex, but he’d have a proper job. He’d have proper mates and would live a modest life. A skinhead life. Yes, I decided there and then - this lad was the one.

For the next few weeks I tracked all his moves. Where he went, who (if anyone) he met with, what modes of transport he used and most importantly the hours he put in studying and working.

Two days a week he was not in law school. On those days he would leave his digs around 7:40am, walk to the end of the road and wait for the number 17 bus, which would turn up about ten to eight. Traffic depending, the journey to the main bus station took 25 minutes. He would walk from there to the office, some days stopping at McDonalds to get breakfast, sometimes not. Regardless, he would always get to the office for 8:30.

The end of the day was different and seemed less structured. The lad must have been focussed on his future career because I would see an exodus from the building around 5:30pm, but he was never part of that ‘first wave’ in fact he never emerged before 6 and sometimes it was almost 7 before he’d walk out of the main entrance. When he did leave, like most of his generation, he’s be focussed on his phone, distracted from what was going on around him. At that time of the evening the area was pretty much deserted. As this lad was going to be my next project I needed to see what he did after work. So, like a shadow I followed his movements at night.

I discovered that he didn’t have that many friends. A couple of random nights he’d go to the Pure Gym which was just on the edge of the town centre. sometimes he’d be accompanied but mostly he went there on his own. At the weekend he didn’t seem to do much. Occasionally I’d note him board the bus into town, returning several hours later with one or two shopping bags from places like JD Sports, Hollister or Flannels. I didn’t see him go into a pub or bar, nor did I see him smoke but that would all change when I’d finished with his transformation.

I had all the knowledge about his movements but the next question on my mind was how to capture the lad and how to get him back here without causing too much commotion. I started mulling things over, a thought jumped into my head. My mate Mal has a 1997 Ford Transit van that he says I can use whenever I need to. Perhaps I could use the van as a distraction. I finished putting my plan together and decided on next Tuesday (one of the days he always attended the office) would be the day when the lad would become my boi.

I’d need to get him a few bits to wear. From previous projects I had become pretty good a sizing a lad. I wouldn’t know his shoe size but I’d take a guess. Back home I fired up my laptop to see how quickly I could get stuff. I logged into eBay first and found most of what I needed. I selected the ‘buy now’ option to make sure it could be delivered in time for my new guest to ‘arrive’.

So I had his clobber on order - Tuesday couldn’t come around soon enough.

-------------------

Tuesday night came along and I’d parked Mal’s van on the same street as the law firm about twenty or thirty yards along from the entrance so any security cameras or nosy security guards couldn’t see what was going to conspire.

I checked the time, 5:15pm. Good I was pretty confident I’d be ready for when he emerged from the building after all his colleagues had left.

It got to 5:30 - suddenly there was an exodus of dozens and dozens people. I watched out for him looking in my wing mirrors. Good, as predicted the lad wasn’t one of them. When the rush had died down I needed to time my next move carefully. It was 6:15 and no one had emerged from the building for over a quarter of an hour. I made my move. I pulled the lever, which opened the bonnet on Mal’s van. My pretext for getting into conversation with the lad would be that I was having trouble with the engine and I needed to stand in front of the van whilst someone turned the key. That was something anyone could do.

Sure enough just before half past, the lad emerged with a ruck sack on his back. I’d been standing by the wall looking like I was waiting for a breakdown service to attend to me, but I wasn’t.

I called out to the lad, who as I had seen countless times was looking down at his phone, "Oi mate - I’m 'avin a bit of trouble, can you help?”

The lad looked up, “Erm me, you need a hand?"” he queried

“I’d appreciate it, my van’s playing up and I can’t get hold of the breakdown service. If you could spare me two minutes, I might be able to get it going.”

He looked around and then said “Sure, but I’m not sure I can do any good. I don’t know anything about van mechanics.”

He must have been surprised to see the way I was dressed - DM's. bleached jeans, olive green bomber jacket and beanie hat covering my shaved head.

He cautiously walked towards me, everything was going to plan.

“Don’t worry lad, I’ll take care of the engine. All I need you to do is jump behind the wheel and turn the key but not before I tell you to, okay?”

The lad simply nodded and climbed into the van.

I spent a few moments checking the engine, an engine that in truth was working perfectly. I had pulled the distributor wire, so I knew nothing would happen when the key was turned. Timing was of the essence, because you really can drain the battery if you continuously try to start a van disabled in this fashion.

I spoke to the lad, “nothing appears out of place - go on and turn the key. The engine kind of turned over, but stalled and died. “Shit”.

I kept the charade going for several minutes. Spending a minute or two between each key-turn pretending to fiddle with the engine and then telling the lad to turn the key, knowing it wouldn’t start.

With a frustrated look on my face I came round to the driver’s door and said, “I think I’m going try call the breakdown service again and hope they can get to me tonight” He just kind of nodded at me as I rubbed my hands briskly. “Before I do there’s one more thing I’m going to try that I need your help with,” and before he could reply I continued to speak, “It’s a bit parky this evening. D'you fancy a drink? I got a flask of coffee in the back.”

There was a risk that he would decline the offer, but I’d got him invested in my problem so he simply nodded.

“C'mon then"

The lad jumped out of the drivers seat and followed me round to the back of the van. I got the flask out and poured me some coffee onto two plastic cups. I lifted the cup to my mouth and held it there as I watched the naive lad take a sip "That's it mate - drink it all down"

“It’s really nice,” he told me, so I poured some out another cup. He took a few gulps more, then the cup fell out of his hand.

-------------------

The lad knew nothing more until he came around later tied to a chair. At first he didn’t know what had happened only that he had a blinding headache. As he became more conscious he could see there was someone sitting across the room from him. He became lucid enough to realise it was me, the same skinhead with the broken down van that asked him for help. The same skinhead with a lit cigarette in my mouth. The lad then realised all his clothes with the exception of his underwear had been removed. He was also fully aware of the ropes that were restraining him. He started to struggle and started to hurl verbal abuse at me. I was mildly surprised; I thought a trainee lawyer might have had a better grasp of English.

I said nothing, I stood up walked over to the lad and stuffed a dirty football sock in his mouth. “That’ll stop you making too much noise. It’s late, I’m going to bed. You’re my ‘guest’ for as long as I want to keep you, g'night”

-------------------

The next morning, the lad was woken by cold water being thrown in has face.

I left the room and came back with a pair of clippers. The lad’s eyes widened, I could see him begin to panic. A muffled "no" came from his sock-filled mouth. The cold teeth of the clippers slid across the middle of his head from forehead to crown, the first clump of hair slipped onto the floor. The lad started to struggle so I said “if you struggle you will get cut now that’s fine with me but you might not like it”. My grip changing aggressively as I worked around his head moving front to back, and all around the sides. I rubbed all over his head, happy with my work I turned the clippers off. The lad now had a zero crop. I walked into the bathroom and returned with a bowl and shaving kit.

I put down a bowl of warm water, can of shaving foam and an old fashioned razor. Again, he started to struggle against his bonds. He was saying something but I just ignored and started wetting his stubble, after-which I worked the shaving foam into his stubbly scalp. Then, more for effect than anything else, I picked up a cut-throat razor. Once again I explained that if the lad didn’t keep still he might lose a lot of blood before he was finished. This time the lad was motionless. I have to say for the duration of his head shave, he really didn’t move a muscle.

The last stroke of the razor was the longest and the best. I wrapped his head in a towel to remove the last bit of foam. Then drizzled some balm and messaged it into my freshly shaved scalp. I took the bowl and stuff back into the bathroom. Happy with my work I sat down on a chair across the room from him. “Now, let explain what is happening to you. First, I’m only going to release you if you accept these rules. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will not move unless I tell you to. You will do what I say without question. From now on until I tell you otherwise you call me Boss. Do you accept these rules boi?” He just nodded - I’m pretty sure he’d agree to anything just to get the stale sock out of his mouth. I carried on setting out the rules, “I’m warning you now, disobey me and you will again be restrained on that chair and you will also get a severe punishment is that clear?”

Forlorn looking he nodded again.

“Now listen to me. Your old life is over. You have been chosen by me to become a skinhead. I will turn you into a proud skinhead, eventually you will be inked and then pierced to my specification but in the meantime you are going wear skin gear.” Today you begin a new life with me. Now, the first thing I need is your signature on a few pieces of paper…you know just to make everything legal”. I handed the lad a pen but he didn’t take it straight away, “now I’ve told you there is an easy way with you accepting the new life I’m offering you or we can do it the hard way. It doesn’t bother me - now sign the documents or you’re going to take one hell of a beating.” Reluctantly the lad took the pen I was holding and signed his name on the papers and handed them back to me. [The signed papers would give notice on his rented flat, would inform his lecturers that he was quitting law school and he was resigning from his placement at the law firm].

I wheeled a mirror into the room so he could see his denuded head. “You look like a man now and I bet you feel better don’t you?” Not knowing what else to do, he simply nodded back. I reinforced my previous statement of intent, “so you’re my new project boi and when the time comes to leave me you will leave as a skinhead. A booted, inked and pierced skinhead, living by the skin code.” I finished my monologue and left the room to go make myself a drink and so that he could mull over what I’d just told him.

-------------------

I came back into the room about half an hour later. “It’s time to begin boi.” Pointing over at five pairs of black boots with different coloured laces I told him the first lesson will be how to look after your boots.

In my hand I had some black polish, what he realised was the work shirt he’d been wearing and a shoe brush. I dropped them by his feet and said “ok boi get over here and start shining the boots”. Understanding the previous warning I’d given him, there was no way out of this. He stood up from the chair walked over to where the boots were lined up. He timidly asked me “which ones Boss?” I was pleased he called me Boss without any prompting, ”all of them,” I responded. “Start with the ones in the middle, the ones with the white laces boi.”

He picked up the boots I’d instructed him. He opened the tin and dipped the rag into the black polish. He spent the next few hours shining all five pairs of boots. Every time he looked up to say he was finished, i would shake my head and give him a slap.

Now I know a thing about retraining lads, especially lads from good homes who tend to have a natural obedience because of their upbringing. I carefully balance the use of ‘fear of pain’ and ‘reward’. So long as the boi lives in fear of me and the pain I could inflict upon him, I can focus him on being rewarded for complying with my orders.

I looked at him, totally focussed on the boots. I thought about what might have been for the boi if I hadn’t decided to take him under my wing, I’m pretty sure that in his head he had his life mapped out ahead of him - someday becoming a partner in a law firm earning three-maybe four hundred thousand a year, marrying and having two or three kids. I step in and disrupt that to give him a new purpose, a more worthwhile purpose and a the opportunity to work in a proper job. Perhaps as a labourer, a refuse collector, joiner’s apprentice - who knows? What I do know is that he never, ever thought of being a skinhead; but soon he won’t be able to imagine life as anything else.

In all it took four hours of polishing the five pairs of boots before I said, “that’s enough for a first effort. You have one more pair to do later, they’re the ones you’ll be wearing!” I could see him shudder. “Now let’s get you dressed proper.”

I handed him a black Fred Perry shirt with yellow trim. “Put it on boi.”

He took it without questioning me, “yes, Boss.” He slipped the black polo over his body, I’d guessed the right size because it fitted perfectly. Next I told him that skinheads didn’t wear ‘poncy’ underwear, they go commando or wear a jock. “You are going to wear a jock and in time you’ll find out why.” I grinned, he had no idea about that devious part of my plan. I passed it to him and he looked at it - clearly he’d never worn one to play sport. “Take yer pants off, throw ‘em over there and put that on.” I remember he turned a shade of crimson. “Look boi, you ain’t got anything different to me, just get to it.” He saw me ball my fist, so he dithered no more and put the jock on.

You’ll wear that day after day untilI tell you to take it off. Next I told him to get the white football socks and put them on. Now for your bleachers. They’re gonna feel tight but that’s the way they are meant to be. This was the part I was looking forward - seeing the boi in tight bleachers, which I’d had cut so they barely went over the knee. And him seeing himself shaved and wearing skin gear for the first time.

I watch him stand up to pull them on. They were very tight and left nothing to the imagination. He told he felt they were too tight and felt weirdly short. I told him it’s how they are supposed to be. He was about to sit down when I told him to stay standing. I walked over to him and attached a pair of yellow braces to the waist of his bleachers at the back, over his shoulders and clipped them to the front.

“Nice - you’re looking the part boi,. but there’s something missing...”

“Are you going to make me wear a pair of those boots?”

“Haven’t you forgotten a word boi?” I clenched my fist again.

“Sorry....I mean BoSS, are you going to make me wear boots BoSS?”

“No, you have to earn the right to wear your boots, boi”

Pointing over to the wall, I instructed him to look at himself in the mirror. I told him he was well into his journey to becoming a skinhead.

I was surprised to see a bulge growing in his bleachers. “Interesting”, I thought. I felt that things were progressing at the right pace. I turned and left the room, leaving the lad to his thoughts.

-------------------

Breaking down a lad and rebuilding him as a boi in the desired image isn’t easy. If he was going to be a skinhead, he would have to behave like a skinhead and to believe there was no other way. To do this I ordered him to shave his head with foam and a razor every single morning. He would have to wait for me to inspect his work, only when I was satisfied would I allow him to get dressed. He would spend his day looking like a skin: wearing bleachers, Fred Perry, braces and football socks.

He still wasn’t allowed to wear boots. My goal was for him to learn the importance of boots to a skinhead: a highly visible sign that the wearer doesn’t give a shit about what anyone else thinks of them, they look menacing, and says ‘don’t mess with me’ because if you do, you’ll be the loser. I wanted him to beg me to wear the boots I’d got him, and I knew it would only be a matter of time until he was begging for permission to be booted. Until then on the occasions when we needed to go out, I made him out on some old workie overalls and on his feet he’d wear a pair of cheap and nasty black canvas plimsoles (remember the ones you might have worn in school?).

I didn’t know what his orientation was. In doing my research I’d not seen any evidence of girlfriend, or a boyfriend for that matter. I guessed that he might be so focussed on career, that he had suppressed any sexual urges or thought he’d wait ‘till the right person came along; then marry and have kids. Well, I had other plans. I wanted a boi to have ‘fun’ with and when I decided the time would come to let him leave he’d have absolutely no interest in women and he’d be looking for a skinhead partner or follow in my footsteps, finding ‘a lost sheep’ to convert into a proud gay skinhead, swelling the skinhead ranks.

-------------------

I returned to the room, “ok boi get over here.” He walked over towards me. “It’s time for you next lesson boi, you’re going to learn the art of bootlicking; you’re going to worship my boots. Boots are going to be the focus of your world and you don’t stop till I say. Get to it and I want to feel your tongue pressing hard.” Every so often I’d say “stop” and the boi would think he had done, but it was just to allow me to get a drink or go to the loo. I’d return and tell the lad to continue. I wanted him to get used to the position, being subservient (for the time being) and fully compliant with my instructions. Growing to love the taste of the leather, eventually becoming addicted to it. “Good boi”, I’d say every so often.

After a couple of hours of kneeling at my boots I told him, “that’s enough for a first effort now start on the other one”. The boi’s shoulders dropped but he did not say a word just started on the my other boot. After two more hours of bootlicking I allowed the lad to take a break. I got him some food but I made him eat it sitting on the floor by my boots.

The routine created for my new skinboi was expedited day after day. I would wake him at 6am in order for him to shave his head. I’d check the shave was to my satisfaction. Then he’d dress: black Fred Perry shirt, white football socks, bleachers, white braces. Then it would be down to work polishing all the boots in the morning, worshiping my boots in the afternoon and sometimes going outside with me dressed in full skin-gear and him in workie overalls and plimsoles. The monotony and repetition was wiping away his old life, soon all he would know is being a skinhead.

I also introduced him to the ‘joys’ that only a man can give another man. "Boi, Get over here, and get down on your knees." I watched my boi nervously get down on his knees. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him forward so his face was in my crotch. I held him there so he can revel in the joys of his Boss’ scent. After a few minutes I told him to unbutton my bleachers. He was reluctant at first, but I was insistent. He knew I could meter a severe punishment, so using his fingers in he starts undoing the buttons, one by one. He looked up into his eyes knowing what was about to ensue. He opened his mouth to speak, but I said, "Ssh.. boi.. this is a necessary part of your training." He takes hold of my waistline and pulls down my bleachers, forcing my jock down too. He doesn’t break eye contact with me as my tumescent manhood strikes him on the chin. My balls are big and hang low. All he can do is stare. I’m pretty lucky, at least 8 inches long, and thick enough that his hand will be able to wrap around it, but only just.

With my hand still on the back of my head, I say to him “open up boi.” He hesitates, but seeing the expression on my face, he complies. I know he’s scared about what is going to happen. He was probably thinking about that ‘normal’ life of wife, kids and career. But looking at him, I can see there is some level of arousal. I now enter his now willing mouth. The underside of my manhood rubs against the top of his tongue as he lets it rest in his mouth for a few seconds. I pull his head forward so I can force myself deeper into his throat. It's half way in before he gags on its length. Laughing, I pull out, "Pretty big eh? Don't worry. We'll work on that.” I put it back in his mouth and he begins sucking again. It isn't long before I notice how turned on he is by all of this. Something must have clicked in his mind. Perhaps he wasn’t sure of his sexuality. Perhaps he was naturally submissive and was finally responding to the changes I was making to him. I’ll never really know. He is now sucking with vigour; even trying his hardest to take me in his throat and make his Boss happy.

"What a good boi. You like sucking your Boss’ dick don't you?"

He nodded. I could tell from looking into his eyes he was happy he was making his Boss happy. I smiled, “you’re going to be getting as lot of practice from now on boi. In fact when you finally leave, you’ll have no interest in women anymore - that’s if you had any in the first place. A skinhead like you is going to be into real blokes, who love aggro, sp[it, piss and hard sex. Now get up.”

I stand him up, turn him around, and walk him over to the sofa. “Strip,” I order. He hesitates for a moment, but seeing the expression on my face, he obediently takes off his Fred Perry, drops his bleachers, and pulls down his jock. What i assume to be his untouched hole is fully now exposed to me. I lean him into the sofa, putting his knees up on the cushions and face into the backrest. As I stand behind him I’m pretty sure he can feel something rubbing on his bum cheeks. I’m pretty sure he knows what it is. My hands are exploring his arse, rubbing and massaging all over.

Then I do something he wouldn’t be expecting. I lean forward and bury my face in his arse. I’m ravishing his hole with my tongue, and I know he will have never had a feeling like this before. He’s now moaning into the cushions as my tongue explores my hole. Satisfied with my work I pull back. I hear a squeak of disappointment, but it doesn't last long. The next noise that emanates from the lad is a ‘yelp’ in response to me sliding a finger into his wet boi hole. His bum clenches as I slide my finger in and out.

“How does that feel boi?”

Breathlessly he responds, “it feels amazing. Don’t stop. Please.”

I reach around him and start jerking him off my, using the precum leaking out of the head I keep a steady pace in order to distract him from what I’m about to do. I insert another finger into his hole, then a third. I know he could have never dreamed about the pleasure he’s experiencing at this point. I kept this up for ten, twenty, maybe thirty minutes - I can’t remember. When I gauged that he was almost at the point of no return I asked him a question.

"Are you ready for me to finally mark you as mine, boi?

At this point I knew he didn’t want this ‘world of pleasure’ I was giving him to end, so he vigorously nodded .

“Do you want to screw your tight little virgin boi hole? Speak."

"Please. Yes. I need your cock. Please take my boi hole," he whimpers.

I rub the head of my cock against his hole. His hands reach behind him and with both hands he pulls his cheeks apart giving me full access. Slowly, I push forwards applying pressure on his hole. Then, the pop. I’m in.

He yelps, “ow, ow, it hurts, no! He tries to rise up. But then I place a hand on his back, forcing him down.

"Shh.. boi..give it time, The pain will go - you'll learn to love it"

I keep the head of my hard pole in his hole for a few seconds without moving it to get him accustomed to it. Very slowly I start to move back and forth. I’m very steadily stretching his hole more and more. But then I notice a change in the noises he’s making.

I spoke up, “see boi, that initial pain begins to get replaced. Replaced by this, full feeling and eventually that makes way for an unbelievable pleasure. A pleasure only a man can give you.” I rock back and forth, putting more of my cock into his tight arse, When I pull back he’s started to push back; he’s moaning each time more is pushed inside him, until finally I feel my sack up against his arse.

"You like that boi? All of your Boss is in your arse. And my what a tight one you have boi."

"Ohh.... It's so good," in his state of ecstasy is all he can summon up.

I begin pumping back and forth, pulling out to the point to where the tip of the head is all that is left in his arse and then pressing all the way back in.

"Tell me you like it boi. Tell your skinhead Boss what you want me to do. Tell me now boi!"

"Boss yes!.. You feel so good inside me. Please don't stop. Please. Please fill me with your pure skinhead seed"

I pick up the pace to the point where I’m pounding his arse. I continue to penetrate him over and over again. I’m hoping to reach that special place every male has. I tell him to turn around because I want him to be looking at me when I deposit my seed. I start again, pumping in and out, over and over. His eyes roll back into his head as I go all the way down. I can tell he’s experiencing a new feeling. Soon he’ll be at the point of no return. The point where man sex is all he desires.

"You feel that boi? I’m massaging your prostate"

"Oh my god Boss. That feels so good. Please don't stop."

I’m thrusting into his arse, back and forth, slowly at first then picking up the pace. He grabs his cock and starts jerking it.

"Yes!” he says, “please keep going. don’t stop!"

I keep pumping away, when I hear him say, “I’m going to cum.” I pull his hands away. “You have to ask permission to cum boi.” I say sternly.

“Please may I cum, please Boss?” he begs.

“I’ll let you cum when you tell me what you are boi.”

“What, what do you mean?” he queries.

“Tell me what you are boi, tell me you’re a skinhead! Tell me you’re going to live your life as a proud, gay skinhead. You’ll spread the word and convert others to the skinhead life.”

“Yes, I will,” he responds, eagerly.

“Not good enough boi, tell me what I have turned you into, now!”

Breathing heavily as I continue to plough in and out of his arse he responds, “oh, okay. I’m a skinhead, a gay skinhead. I proud, gay skinhead. I’ve been shown how to live as a skinhead, how to dress in skin gear, how to polish and lace my boots correctly. How to shave my head. How to live my life... from... now on as a skinhead.”

“Yes boi, you are a skinhead. For now you’re my skin boi. There are some final changes I have to make to ensure there’s no return to your old life. Now cum for me.”

Streams of cum land on his chest. I feel his are clinches around my cock as I keeps pumping away, reaching the point of no return. Marking him, filling him with my essence. I look deeply into his eyes and can see complete bliss.

I slow down, then pull out. Our lips meet and lock together.

To reinforce his new gay skinhead life, we repeat these sessions, day after day. Me on top and him on the bottom. Because I want him to convert others to the skinhead life, I need to allow him to top. So in some sessions we switch and he gets to experience what it’s like to penetrate another man. We always shag in skinhead gear and our sessions get more exciting as he gives himself to this new life I’ve created for him.

-------------------

A couple of weeks later, I woke up to find my boi had got out of my bed early and was already in the bathroom. I opened the door to find him shaving his head. I smiled at him and he smiled back: success!

I waited for him to come downstairs wondering how he would be dressed. Sure enough he walked into the room, with the exception of a pair of boots he was dressed in his skinhead gear.

I looked up, “hello boi, what are you?” was all I asked him.

“I am a skinhead Boss, living by the skinhead code” he replied

“Good boi.”

Quickly, I made a call to a friend to book a four-hour appointment.

I came back into the room, "boi, get the black boots with the white laces, and put them on. Lace them as I’ve shown you.

“Yes Boss”, he replied excitedly.

We’re going into town to make some final changes to the way you look. We are going to make sure everyone knows what you are. Tell me again, what are you boi?”

As he laced his boots he repeated his mantra. “I’m a skinhead, BoSS.”

“Yes boi, and after today there is going to be no way back. Now, get a move on and finish lacing those boots because we have an appointment booked.

I watch closely as he ladder laces his new black boots. I’m admiring the skin boi I’ve created. In the next hour he will begin the final part of his transformation. He will stay with me for some time so that I can fully reinforce his skinhead training. When I decide he’s the finished article, I will tell him to go find himself a partner, perhaps a normal lad he can transform into his own skinboi perhaps someone who is already leading a skinhead life.

As I look at my skinboi standing in the doorway, I start thinking about what my next project will be...

#skinhead #ranger boots #shavehead #bleachers

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 years

Text

Demon!Geralt Geraskier AU premise/concept

(not a full full fic, just some fun)

Jaskier is a music student at an ivy league university. He has been disowned by his wealthy parents, so he is broke and working as a janitor to help pay his way.

One sunny morning, he is cleaning a frat house. The house is quiet, because all the frat boys are sleeping off hangovers from their epic Halloween party. There are broken glasses, stray bras, and empty bottles everywhere.

Ever since he was cut off financially and started cleaning dorms and frat houses, they don't invite him to parties anymore. It's fine. He is fine with it.

As he walks into the kitchen, one of the boys who used to be a friend (or so he thought) passes him groggily in the hall on his way to the bathroom. Jaskier feels a slight flush of embarrassment and decides to start cleaning in the basement.

When he descends the stairs to the basement, he takes in an odd scene.

There are abandoned velvet...robes? Everywhere? And more broken glass. There is a black circle painted on the ancient stone floors (Jaskier is gonna take a picture of that before he starts, to prove he didn't fucking deface university property) and burned down candles everywhere.

He takes out his phone and just as he snaps a picture, an abandoned robe in the center of the circle moves. Fuck. He jams his phone in his pocket. The guy is probably just sleeping something off, but what if he passed out down here? None of these fucking douchebags would have helped him. He better make sure he's ok.

He pulls aside the robe, to find a muscular, stark naked man, curled into a ball. The man startles when he feels the robe move, and he sits up. His hair is white and his pupils are golden. And when he sees Jaskier, his body flushes pink, and, wait....are those? Scales? Red scales?

The man swiftly arranges his hair and Jaskier realizes something disappears when he does that.

"Do you have...horns?" Jaskier asks stupidly.

"No. I do not have horns. Not any longer."

"Are those scales?"

Jaskier reaches out a finger and gets his hand slapped.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

The man doesn't reach for his robe. So Jaskier picks one up and holds it out. The man takes it but doesn't put it on.

Jaskier clears his throat. "Your friends are all sleeping up there. They can probably find a better place to sleep than on some rocks."

The man tilts his nose up ever so slightly. "They are not my friends."

He stands up and Jaskier's throat goes dry as he just keeps....standing. The man is huge. Like. Not normal huge. Enormous.

Jaskier looks down as the man puts on the robe. "Then why did you come to their party?" Jaskier lifts the broom in his hand. "I'm getting paid to be here at least."

"They summoned me."

"Summoned?"

Jaskier stares at him for a moment in silence. The man just stares back.

"Are you a--"

"A demon, yes."

"Shit. That's. That's cool. I've never met a demon."

"You aren't afraid?"

Jaskier scratches his temple and considers. "Well. According to my parents, Satan is my father and I'm going to hell when I die. So. Seems like I sort of....maybe...belong to you."

"Hmmm." The man seems to be amused, but it is hard to tell.

Jaskier holds out his hand. "Jaskier. Nice to meet you."

"Really?"

"Why not?"

"Well. It's usually less nice to meet you and more here are my demands."

"They summoned you to demand something? What do people usually demand?"

"It's usually fuck or fight. I don't know what these guys wanted because they wandered off before I got here. They were pretty wasted."

"Fuck...or..."

"They want me to kill someone for them. Or they expect me to fall in love with them and fuck them. Or some combination of the three."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, you're very attractive, Mr..."

"Geralt. It's Geralt."

"You're insanely attractive, Geralt. I feel uniquely qualified to say that since I have seen you stark naked. But it does seem rather....presumptuous to expect that any demon that shows up is going to want to fuck you."

"I do not think they care what I want."

Jaskier shuddered. "Fucking creeps."

Geralt grunts listlessly. He arranges the robe around him. The black velvet is stunning against his skin. These douchebag frat boys might be pricks, but they do have an eye for fabric.

Jaskier stays silent for a moment again, listening for noises upstairs. "I think they're still asleep. Why don't you get out of here. Go home."

"I cannot. I am bound inside the circle. And even if I could get out of the circle, I am bound to this plane until they release me. There is a ritual where they release me back home. Back to hell."

Jaskier lays down the broom and rubs his chin in thought.

"Can I let you out?"

"Yes. Just scuff the circle."

Jaskier immediately scuffs the circle, and Geralt sighs in relief. He steps outside of the strip of black paint and stretches his arms, then his legs. Jaskier is thoroughly transfixed by the rippling muscles and thighs thick as tree trunks.

"I cannot leave this area though. I find that I can get about a mile away before I start to fade. I cannot leave. And if they realize their ritual worked, they will find me."

"But the only way they will do the closing ritual is if they realize it worked."

"Exactly."

"You are in a pickle, sir."

"Indeed."

Jaskier clears his throat and scuffs the floor with his foot, even though the paint is scuffed enough. "You can come stay with me. Hide out. I am staying in a hostel now, but it's a private room. We could sneak you in."

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course. And I've already raided their pantry. I have bags of food under the window outside I can just swipe on the way out." Jaskier grinned. "We can eat like kings."

Geralt chuckles. "I do enjoy human food occasionally. I don't need to eat, but it is pleasurable. But Jaskier."

"Yes?"

The demon scrunches his face, affecting a ferocious threating expression. "His power over me does not extend to you. You cannot compel me to do anything. In fact, I can kill you with a thought. Just a mere notion. You'd be dead. Rotten. Bones clattering to the ground. All that before I even speak."

Jaskier sucks his cheeks in for a moment as he thinks. "Well, do you kill people for being annoying?"

Geralt shakes his head. "No."

Jaskier grins. "Then I'm safe."

They sneak upstairs together and slink through the halls. They hear voices in the living room and Geralt startles. The sight of a demon the size of a dragon trying to crouch back into corner is one Jaskier will not soon forget.

Two of the frat boys are awake and chatting. "Did you see fucking Julian come through here?"

"No. What's that dickswab doing here?"

"He's in the basement cleaning."

"He's the cleaning lady?"

"He's poor now. His parents disowned him."

"Why?"

"Why the fuck do you think?"

The boys dissolve into laughter and Jaskier feels his neck flush hot. For some reason, it is extra humiliating to be laughed at in front of a large, powerful, gorgeous, actual demon.

"Come on, Geralt," he says. "There's another exit.

As they change direction down the other hall, there is a shriek and a gurgle from the direction of the living room. Even though they move fast and are outside in just a moment, Jaskier hears the screams through the open window.

"Percy's dead!"

He looks at Geralt in shock. Geralt shrugs. "Percy wasn't at the ritual. I'm not bound to him."

"I thought you didn't kill people for being annoying?"

Geralt fidgets. "He isn't dead. They're being dramatic. It's just a bit of...pain." He watches Jaskier, brow furrowed. "Do you--do you-- still want to help me?"

Jaskier doesn't need to think about that one. "I do. But you need to learn some manners. There are a lot of assholes in this place and even some living in the hostel. If we leave a trail of bodies, they'll find you very quickly."

Geralt nods.

"Good. Now. How do you feel about cappuccino?" He lifted a bag that jangled. "They have one of those fancy machines. I'm borrowing it."

Geralt grunts again. Jaskier has already figured that one out. It is agreement.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #demon au

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suspendingtime · 6 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I've been tagged by @stars-of-kyber and @andthebubbles. 😁 So although I feel barely qualified, I guess I best do this...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

7. 🤗

I started about 2 months ago, so... and yes, they're all Kanthony. Initially just started as a way of contributing to Anthony Week 2023, and I didn't even expect that I'd actually do all 7 days.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

13,370.

Currently ranging at 661 to 3,779 per fic. Rookie numbers!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

So far, just my beloved Bridgerton.

But there have been a couple other shows that have tempted me...

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Astride - 166

Nursery - 118

Hunt - 105

Yours - 94

Temptation - 88

Having published a handful with various ratings, it's quite interesting to see the kudos, bookmarks (private vs public), and subs ratios! Much to think about.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes.

Why... I sort of have a need? Idk, when I see a comment it's hard to just leave it hanging there and not to reply. Like irl if someone looked at something I made and verbally commented on it... and I just stared back blankly not saying anything. 😐 This is how it feels to me on the receiving end at least haha. And my replies saying various forms of 'Thank you!' is probably quite repetitive, but hey ho.

Plus comments give you that lil hit of dopamine; from both povs as a writer or reader. Being on the reader side for most of my Ao3 activities I tend to comment on most of fics I read, I can't help it - I must tell you what I loved about it and why, and there's a pleasure in reciprocating that back too. Look, now I've written half an essay on the subject, gaaah. (I've not been on Ao3 as much as I'd like to recently, and because I opened it to scoop out the stats for some of the questions above I can now see that I have some unreads... and the need is happening.)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm *thinking really hard*, I don't think any of them have an ending that is all that angsty. If I had to choose, maybe Temptation?

The pattern I've shown so far in my posted works is that it's gonna be 90% fluff. Though that is liable to change. 😆

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Nursery?

I'm not sure, cause they've all ended on a pretty optimistic note so far. But that one has Kate and Anthony with a few of their kids, so it's the furthest on the Kanthony HEA timeline.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Ummm 👀 I may have dabbled in some smut.

What kind... hm, the kind where both people are panting for each other, and end up caving because they literally can't hold their horniness in anymore (this totally explains why I went feral for Bridgerton S2, ha). Another pattern I seem to have is making Anthony a submissive man puddle.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not yet, but I do have some crack ideas I may explore.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, I very much doubt it.

How often does this happen to people?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I'd certainly be all for it if anyone ever wanted to translate any works of mine. 😊

If I was proficient enough to write in other languages, then I would probably try publishing the different versions from the get go.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Kinda?

Nothing formal, but there was a lengthy comment thread on Reddit some months ago where myself and another user went back and forth re-writing the script for that stormy library scene 😅 (not so much re-writing what was already there, bar the last few lines, more of a continuation in a universe where Kate hadn't fled).

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Must I even answer this? Kanthony, c'mon now.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There's only 1 work that I have, where I've actually started a chapter 2. And I have all the faith that I will finish it. ✍️🤓

Other potential WIPs, that are currently just posted as one shots, only exist in my head... who knows if they will see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

This question feels illegal to be asked.

I have no idea, I'm very new to this whole writing thing. At least in terms of fiction, so I'm not sure what I'd consider my strengths to be. I feel like I need some more practice before I can get a real sense of this?

I would say that dialogue usually comes very quickly to me, and it's having to fill in the bits around it that takes more brain muscles. So that might indicate something.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything apart from the answer to the question above.

But really I think it's remembering that there is a world outside of the main couple happening, and trying to describe the details there. Also other general 'setting the scene' stuff like clothing, weather etc etc. I usually just want to jump straight in with some random dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

On writing it... no thoughts; not done it yet!

If I needed to for some unknown fic reason in the future, I'm sure I'll be apologising profusely in the author notes for trusting Google translate and probably butchering whatever language it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Still just the one so far, Bridgerton. 😌

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Hunt 🥺🥹 I was a lot of feels, and just very indulgent tbh.

I also really enjoyed my shortest one, Obedient, which was in 2nd person (hadn't done that before). The writing of that one was just really fun and I idky but I've reread it quite a bit!

__________________________________________________

I'm woefully looking at my Ao3 bookmarks (which has grown exponentially since joining Tumblr), full of things that I've not got round to reading yet. So I'm tagging partly based on stuff hanging out on top of that pile: @islemeadow, @ladykettlechips, @hydriotaphia, @eleanor-bradstreet, and the smut aunties @colettebronte & @fayes-fics 😋 (if y'all wanna do it, ofc. I tried to find those who hadn't been tagged/done it yet, sorry if you've actually already done this and I've just not found it).

#20 questions for fic writers #tag game #fanfic writing #fan fiction

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literary-illuminati · 10 months

Note

do you have any recs for completed web serials? i went into pgte, worth the candle, pale, and now the flower that blooms nowhere before each was finished without realizing. i guess also books would be good but i like the length and energy of something published in installments

hmmm, If you've read Pale I'm assuming you're already at least aware of Wildbow's other works? And I mean PGtE technically now qualifies! :P

But hmm, okay, I'm not sure any of these are really total and unqualified recommendations, but stuff that's complete and that I finished without resenting the effort I was putting in to finishing it-

The Last Angel: Extremely over the top space opera about the mad-with-grief/rage AI dreadnought that's the last relic of human civilization after an alien empire destroyed Earth and deported the remainder of the species to a reservation on the far of the galaxy then thoroughly obliterated their history and culture. Story is fine, love the worldbuilding, cursed by how much information is in author answers to the dumbest commenters in the world. There's a sequel which I didn't both reading. Main characters are lesbian rep of the 'clearly written by a straight guy but, like, he's trying his best' variety.

Unsong: In a world where the Apollo mission crashed into the crystal sphere surrounding the earth, a young man in California works methodically vocalizing and recording the results of random collections of syllables for a company attempting to discover and patent the secret names of God. Sadly basically the entire book goes downhill from that utterly sublime premise. More clever than good, really, but the chapters of worldbuilding by chains of esoteric word association games are a lot of fun. Nonezero amounts of real r/menwritingwomen shit, IIRC.

Shadows of the Limelight: Renaissance Europe, but being famous literally gives you superpowers in direct proportion to how famous you are. Messy, but actually followed through and kept its nerve on some big reveals, which I appreciate. If you liked Guide (and especially liked hating the heroes in Guide), you'll probably enjoy?

An Unauthorized Fan Treatise: Read this one two weeks ago so will put together an actual review sometime soon. Story of a murder mystery involving genre tv actors as told through the creepily obsessive essay series of a fan proving two of the leads of her favorite show are fucking. Don't regret reading it, but was left feeling that the entire third act was nothing but one long series of missed opportunities.

Anyway going to throw open the door to suggestions from people who actually read more than two web serials at any given time!

#mourning-ted #web serial #meta

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bright-and-burning · 2 months

Note

max/charles/checo

i laughed more than a little receiving this ask. hmmm… makes somewhat sense given today’s qualifying but like not really. and feels like perhaps too much bottom vibe (@vegasgrandprix has made me an omega checo truther)… i would click on a fic depending on the description (bc i will open any fic w an interesting description and the ship would intrigue me in a “now how is this going to work” sense. which could maybe be called compelling but really is more like curiousity), but this probably falls under doesn’t makes sense doesn’t compel me

#i am not very compelled by max in general except for when ppl r insanely good writers n im like sigh you’ve done it again #what a fascinating combo you’ve given me #ask #ask meme #this stumped me genuinely it falls into a very nebulous area of me tilting my head like a dog going huh.

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somuchwhatever · 4 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Got tagged by @somewhereapart, and I figured y'all may be sick of seeing me just post fic so here ya go.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

305,612

3. What fandoms do you write for?

AO3 tells me I've written for Battlestar Galactica, Buffy, General Hospital, Law & Order: SVU, Law & Order: OC, Lie To Me, Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, and The West Wing. And I honestly can't think of any others outside of just ficlets I've tossed into the wild over the years.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Flinktober 2022 (EO, SVU/OC)

i remember skies (EO, SVU/OC)

gala (EO, SVU/OC)

bizarre love triangle (EO, SVU/OC)

Chautauqua (EO, SVU/OC)

I did not include one that was cowritten with a bunch of other people because I will always assume the kudos are for them.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

As often as possible. If someone takes the time to comment, I want them to know that i care enough to acknowledge and thank them for that kindness and effort. Especially when I write mostly for a fandom where I've seen people specifically state that they will read works but NOT comment on them as some sort of punishment for whatever random/imaginary fandom sins the writer whose free content they are enjoying has committed. That's just dumb and unkind, so I make the effort to let people know their comments are appreciated, even if it takes weeks to circle back.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm. There are several chapters in the first flink posting that would qualify, but I'm going to go with my largest Sam/Jack (SG-1) fic, Gravity Sings. It's hard to pretend it's not angsty when you've literally killed off half the planet.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmm. Not really sure. I'm a sucker for fluffy endings, so I tend to write them quite a bit. Maybe waltz or Chautauqua?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Occasionally, but I shut it down quickly. If you come up in someone's space where someone is providing you free entertainment and be rude? Don't expect a pass from me about it. The scroll bar isn't difficult to use, and neither is the back button. I use it frequently on poorly-written works or things that may be well-written but just aren't my thing. What I don't do is sling entitlement issues around demanding things be written to my satisfaction (unless you employ my beta services, in which case, you asked for it!). :D

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I never really did prior to the first flink experiment, and I created that experiment purely to practice writing smut. Well, I take that back. @rgrdsalxndra would be the first to remind me I'd often cockblock Elliot and Olivia by having them dream-smutting without real-life release. But I started that project with the express purpose of getting better and more comfortable with writing smut, so I'm making that the hinge point.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Because SVU and OC are different shows, I write them regularly. But if you mean out-of-universe crossovers, I've only really written one, R.E.M. (SGA, BSG, Buffy). It was based on a prompt from an LJ friend, "Elizabeth Weir, Kara Thrace, and Buffy Summers walk into a bar..."

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware. There are much better people out there to steal from. Also, I always assume if something is similar to what I've written, it's because fandom truly does become a hivemind at some point. Nothing new under the sun and all.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware. If I had to guess, I'd say Gravity Sings would be the most likely candidate since SG-1 fandom is probably the most global and that fic has been around much longer than any other likely candidates.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Wrote Wet Dream with much better smut writers than myself in a group chat, and a bunch of us in SG-1 fandom way back in the day once built an SG-1 AU loosely based on The Big Bang Theory called The House That Jack Built, and I have several entries in that little universe.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

How does anyone pick this??? I love them all for different reasons. I will say EO has a grip on me nobody else ever has, but then they have that 25 year slow burn that is just absolutely and sickly delicious.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Glazed and Fired (SGA) was originally the first part of a 5 Things fic that got away from me, and I had always intended to go back and finish it but eventually just put it away for good. I fully intend to finish my others (Skies, I'm looking at you).

16. What are your writing strengths?

Grammar. Economy of language (this is also sometimes a weakness). Getting into the head of characters who are typically very closed off.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel my writing is way too mechanical. I'm also still not comfortable writing smut. I always walk around with a sense of imposter syndrome with my writing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm literally one class shy of a degree in French, and I had to write many upper level term papers in that language, but let me assure you I have zero plans to ever write in another language. I sincerely applaud those of you who do.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Stargate SG-1

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Geez. It probably changes regularly, and I'm hesitant to say because my faves are never anyone else's. all i ever wanted (a rather dark Elliot-centric fic) holds a very dear spot in my heart just because of how my muse just grabbed a keyboard and churned it out. This is not a popular opinion, and hardly anyone read it, but I still love it a lot. And just because it was the first fic I wrote that was widely recc'd, I have a soft spot for Things Not Dreamed (SG-1), a Sam & Jack & Daniel fic written from Daniel's POV.

tagging in a no-pressure way (and sorry for any double tags):

@morethanwords229, @whatbecomesofyou, @samwrites99, @rgrdsalxndra, @shut-upjohn, and anyone else who wants to do it!

#fanfic #ao3 #memes #writing #writer stuff #sg 1 #buffy the vampire slayer #lie to me #l&o svu #law and order oc #law and order svu #battlestar galactica #stargate atlantis #stargate sg1 #west wing

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chanbig · 2 months

Note

For the ask game!

8, 9, 12 for Big!

thank you @jeffsatyr hehehe

for the ask game!

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

tbh i havent seen much about him that i hate in the fandom 🤔 but since i just watched kinnporsche recently i didnt get to see what people thought about him from week-to-week, which i can guess was probably negative at points, since he and porsche dont get along (fandom bias for the mc will always prevail). I think the main thing from fandom is about him being mean to porsche and how it's unfair/bullying. personally i agree with this post by @kinnbig about this. I think his anger about being replaced by someone so incompetent and rude as porsche is understandable, since big had trained for a long time to be kinn's head bodyguard and porsche just walks in and takes the job and basically doesnt care about doing a good job, which has to be a slap in the face for someone as loyal and dedicated as big. for a show where people treat each other terribly sometimes, i think big enjoying porsche's punishment (which, lets be real, is probably on par with other punishments from the Theerapanyakul family) is relatively tame and understandable from a character standpoint. so i dont get the hate. but then again im a big enjoyer LMAO

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

since big comes across as very buttoned-up and never casual, i think he is probably extremely clean/organized in his personal space, so i would probably drive him up the wall with my mess and chronic lateness. then he would probably clean my stuff up and id get mad because i really hate when people move my things around. we would kill each other within the week. sorry babygirl we are just incompatible 😔

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

hmmm beyond him being a bit of a neat freak, im not sure if it qualifies as a headcanon, but i think he would like having his hair played with/brushed/pulled (in a sexy way) but he will never EVER admit this. its why he keeps it long when everyone else on the team has short hair--but he also doesnt let anyone touch his hair. in fact, since he comes across as very Dont Touch Me in general, the other bodyguards dont touch him casually or jostle him around like they do with each other. it just started off that way when he arrived at the compound because i think he was more reactive and less controlled then, and now its too late to change. even if he could acknowledge that he wants gentleness, he cant make himself ask for it. its a tender spot that he covers with anger, and i think he would react to someone touching this tender spot as if they had pressed on a bruise--with pain.

OKAY its a whole hc now 😂 and i need to write it immediately

#ty!!!#kp #ask game #big kinnporsche #for organization

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sunnylittledisposition · 4 months

Note

Something that never fails to make you horny?

Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?]

What is your favorite part of your body?

What do you wear to bed?

When was the first time you masturbated?

Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside or in public?

Do you own any sex toys? (Can we see it?)

Are you a squirter?

do you have extreme kinks?

What are your top 5 kinks

Oh wow

Someone is an overachiever but thank you so much these are some really fun questions!!

Good job 🩷

I'll try my best to answer them all but forgive me if I miss anything hehe

1. Something that never fails to make me horny.... that's tricky it can vary with different partners. But I'm also a very needy girl so it doesn't take much to get me excited. I love some good flirting, teasing, the build up, having a partner that you're able to have quick witty banter with. I guess that's a pretty basic answer but with each partner it's different 😋

2. Yes I love to taste myself... I guess maybe a little sweet I'm not sure. It's like trying to describe the taste of water to someone hehe I just taste yummy in my opinion l... but I may be a bit biased. Never be afraid to put your fingers in my mouth so I can taste myself on you 🩷

3. My favorite part of my body... that's very hard I'm a very ummm not not confident person. I know I'm not ugly because I receive compliments I guess I just don't view myself the same way others say they view me. I guess I would say my hair maybe? Idkkk

4. What I wear to bedddd... hmmm it's probably not the answer everyone was hoping for hehe I usually sleep in matching jammies, shorts and a tank top or my favorite is just a big oversized shirt 👕

5. High-school

6. It was back in high school as well... let's just say we were on a road trip and got a little restless 🫣

7. I do own sex toys and I only would share that with someone I really like and trust 🩷

8. I am a squirter but I find it kind of embarrassing...

9. Hmmm extreme kinks. I'm not sure what qualifies as extreme so I guess you'll just have to wait to find out ;)

10. And last but not least top 5 kinks...

I guess I'll just say the obvious ddlg and the others I'll save for my partners 😋

Thank you so much for your questions you did such a good job... sorry if I didn't answer them all 🩷🩷🩷

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ladyofspoons · 3 months

Text

hmmm… the thoughts…

executive dysfunction time…

got lots to do today… had plenty of time to do it when i woke up…

aaaaand all i have done is sleep and eat and scroll and play a little viddo game

but because i’ve managed to play game, and drive to get food

makes me feel that perhaps i’m not really depressed or executively dysfunctional

and perhaps

merely lazy

perhaps because i was able to do something

even if it wasn’t the thing i needed to do

but because something got done

then perhaps i could have done something else

and then maybe

i could have taken care of myself a little

done the dishes, taken a shower, brushed my teeth, put on lotion, cook, do the homework that has been sitting there waiting for me for a week now and is about to become overdue even though it’s the first assignment of the semester and it’s super easy and i could do it at any time

i could do it at any time

i could

do it at any time

but i didn’t

because i’m not really trying, evidently, then i must be unworthy to claim that i’m depressed

i don’t want to be one of those people claiming mental illness for clout or internet points or attention

but i do want attention

just, the kind of attention i want is not the kind that i need, and it feels unearned, because nothing has gotten done today

i’ve lain on the bed, and on the couch, and on the bed, and on the couch

and on the bed

and on the couch

and now here i am

back in bed

writing what might qualify as a poem, but certainly lacks any polish or flavor

it wasn’t necessary supposed to be one, a poem

just a text post

maybe something akin to a journal entry

and there’s no reason, either, for me to be feeling this way

nothing went wrong today

nothing except my brain i suppose

or did i imagine that?

for attention

as an excuse

another way out of the things i don’t want to do

i want somebody to pull me out of this, but i can’t accept their help

what have i done to earn it? i didn’t even try today, why should i ask someone else’s energy to do my tasks

and yes, my friends will probably rush to help

but i’ll never feel like i deserved it

here i am

laying in bed

cuddled up to a plush shark, covered in blankets, head resting soft on a pile of pillows

feeling alone

and cold

running out the clock, until i have to go to work

and using that obligation as an excuse for failing to make any progress whatsoever

my partner, my friends, maybe even my parents will all ask me what i did today, how i’m doing

and i’ll tell them lie to them

like i always do

“oh you know, i’m fine,” i laugh lie

“just busy,” another lie

“lots of work,” a half truth “so i couldn’t finish that schoolwork,”

that chore,”

that task,”

that thing that would help,”

that thing that you’ve been asking about for months,”

every time, a lie

or at least that’s what it feels like

but it’s second nature at this point

as natural as breathing, hell, moreso

why

i don’t want to hurt these people

even posting this will be a challenge

i know they’ll see it

and they care about me, and want to help

but if i let them solve my short term problems, the long term ones pile up

i’m so used to lying about what’s happening in my life, just to avoid disappointing the people who care about me, who have invested time and emotion and resources and love, into me

and i don’t want them to give up

to know that it’s all been a waste

to understand that while there is, something wrong with me, something broken inside that makes life just that much harder

i have a hard time noticing

amidst my own self sabotage

“i’m broken,” i lie to myself “i can’t do this as easily as everyone else,”

an illusory comfort, allowing laziness, forgiving my complacency and removing any reason to change

“i’m fine”

incapable of distinguishing lie from truth within my own mind, i tell these people

and greatest sorrow, they believe me

i tell them i’m not fine enough for them to believe it when i finally say that i am

not a single person has ever noticed

not even myself

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formulatrash · 11 months

Note

Do you think George really could have got third? He was angry about it but Mercedes looked too slow. Idk whether to believe the upgrades worked

hmmm, well. "idk whether to believe the upgrades worked" will be roughly where the team is, too, tbh. Monaco is a terrible circuit to assess anything on, since it's nothing like any other F1 circuit and clearly things like the straight line speed and DRS advantage deficit aren't going to get any kind of airing on a track that small.

for what it's worth, I thought Merc looked quite strong in Monaco, especially given neither George or Lewis is especially good round there. it was George's one shocker in F2 (he qualified 3 billionth and crashed both races) and he's only ever been alright-ish in F1. Lewis has won a surprisingly low number of times there for the number of times he's won anywhere else which, in the case of Lewis, is like saying "hey, guy's probably only like third-best ever at this circuit" but like, not one of his best by his own, uniquely high, standards.

that said this was obviously a silly and goofy year of Monaco with a lot of on-track overtaking. moving forward more than one place in Monaco is always a bit of an achievement and although some of Merc's progression was Carlos slipping back, clearly they weren't hopeless in any of the conditions.

compare that to, say, AlphaTauri and McLaren where Yuki was miles ahead of Lando for most of the race and then completely lost control of the car in the wet, you can easily see the diference between Merc and a midfield team for overall stability and race execution. or if you look at Ferrari, whose car was tricky in the dry and borderline undrivable in the wet or intermediate conditions, Mercedes certainly seem to have taken a step ahead of them.

was third nailed on if George hadn't done that particular goof? idk, he might have done a different goof. it's easy in the heat of the post-race, pre-debrief media sessions to fixate on the sliding doors moment where you saw something slip away and I'm not going to pretend I'm booting up ATLAS to run the data on whether Esteban could have caught and passed him otherwise. especially since that's only data; what if Esteban had also goofed?

at the end of the day, even in Formula 1 racing is done on track. George, as it happens, could not get third because that isn't how the race played out and you can't do a flashback IRL - just like McLaren's call to pit Lando was an obvious sign there was a huge storm cloud incoming because hindsight really do be like that.

on the plus side for Mercedes fans, Barcelona is the track that teams love testing upgrades on so the team got them out for that. clearly, as you can see by the various patchwork carbon fibre pieces involved in the photos, there was a bit of rushing to do this and smaller teams like McL are still waiting for theirs for three races. getting the upgrades to Barcelona, even without the Imola data, is a big win for Merc and I'd expect to see at least a clear direction in terms of what they're doing and how they're developing for the rest of the season and next year from this point on.

#f1 asks

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mortuarywriting · 12 days

Note

How about 13 for the ask game?

- Dragon

wip ask game!

13: Your characters are stranded on a deserted island. What happens?

This'll depend on what qualifies as my characters!

Assuming canon are out and fine? I think my readers would probably flounder a n- wait. no. self indulgent au hmm OKAY Self indulgent au: would do about as well as someone who watches the primitive technology youtube channel does, which is to say- has an approximate knowledge. Depending on ecology would absolutely die. Will definitely lose weight Isekai: depends entirely on if the island is in the COD-universe because the nonzero threat of a titan rocking up may kill them first. Probably wouldn't do that well, so about as average as they can be. dragons!: Sunshine would be absolutely fine for reasons that will be disclosed At Some Point. Bartender: would poke around the island and then Would Simply Not Be There Cooke: not his preferred environment iirc and while he'd probably get a bit hungry he could maybe? ask mom for help? hmmm that's something to ponder. Unless he's with all of the above- in which case he's gonna be very well fed.

#rambles from the morgue #bartender and cooke are weird don't mind them #thank you for asking!#i need a friend tag

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no-psi-nan · 11 months

Text

I was thinking about Cherry Magic, a manga and TV series based on a myth that says staying a virgin until you're 30yo grants you special powers. In the series, the power obtained is specifically telepathy.

So then I was thinking, hmmm what if this but the Psychickers?

Well, Aiura definitely isn't qualified for this kind of magic so XD

I can definitely see Toritsuka still failing to get laid at age 30 tbh, but making this situation Torisai would not be very fun because Saiki would immediately notice that Toritsuka has gained telepathy and would help relieve him of that just out of pure pity hsfjdlshfks. Especially since Saiki says that a normal person with telepathy would quickly go insane!

But wouldn't it be interesting if local ace Akechi Touma developed this cherry magic? Saiki can't properly read HIS mind, and he would probably hold onto his sanity for much longer than the average person. And he wouldn't want Saiki to find out about this and feel obligated to fix it.

Especially if they were already dating, it would be interesting if Akechi tried to like, be a tiny bit more seductive while also worrying about consent and not giving away what's going on and trying to find other ways to alleviate the mental load / remove the magic.

Then again, the easiest solution here is for Akechi to tell Aiura what's going on and get that fixed so he can go back to cool chill ace times with his bae so hsfjdlshfks. Aikechi for the win!

#nopsi's promptsies #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #sknpn #the disastrous life of saiki k.#akechi touma #akechi posting #saikechi #aikechi

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lucianleblue · 1 month

Note

Someone called Dream a Cowboy :)

Btw, you’re very pretty :)

Hmmm.. I don’t know if Dream necessarily qualifies as a cowboy, but he probably was at some point or something. I wouldn’t be surprised with his age.

Also, thanks! You all are so sweet.

#blue talks #asks!

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kdhume · 1 year

Text

I feel like people don't want to understand that if you contract covid now you can still get long covid.

That you have a better chance of not dying or being hospitalized if you're fully vaccinated but the probability of getting long covid increases every time you get covid.

That you could become disabled for an indefinite amount of time at any point, but especially from covid.

That you might not realize you have long covid until months after you contract covid.

That people with long covid get worse when we contract it again, even if we were previously recovering.

That millions of us are newly disabled from covid and millions more probably don't realize that they have it yet.

That only the very worst cases have any chance of getting disability support in the US.

I'm getting better. That means I was able to work 16.5 hours in the last two weeks, do 7 minutes of stretching and very light bodyweight workouts every other day, and make myself food some days instead of ordering in or not eating. My long covid has never been bad enough to qualify for aid, I'm just lucky enough to have family able to support me. If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to rest enough to recover, possibly ever. I still wake up some nights feeling half dead and think "hmmm, maybe this is it. Maybe this is the aneurysm/blood clot/heart attack that's going to take me out." And it's not fear talking, it's just a thing I have an increased likelihood of now.

I feel crazy. I feel gaslit. I feel like I'm living in a different reality than y'all. Millions dead, more disabled with no recovery support, and y'all are just walking around in crowds with your faces showing. You are not immune. I wish you were but you aren't. Put your goddamn mask back on.

#Long covid

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edda-grenade · 4 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thanks @inaconstantstateofchange for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

275k (damn, i hadn't realized it was that much overall)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

primarily dragon age (i've dipped into a few fandoms wrt fic writing over the years, but dragon age has been a mainstay for ages now)

and most recently, a for me unhinged amount of bg3

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

GET IT KIDS

The Common Tongue (Of You Loving Me)

Clean-Shaven

Slow Burn (that title is massively false advertising fyi)

Kintsugi

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i Want to respond to a lot more than i actually manage to do >.> unfortunately the comments that are super lovely and involved are often the ones where i get super intimidated about answering bc i want to make it a Good ReplyTM ^^'''

basically if you've ever written me a nice comment, be assured that i swooned over it, even if i never got the spoons together to reply

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Good Men, Fall To Dusk, hands down. p sure that's the only one that could qualify as an actual tragedy

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

oh hmmm. the majority of my fics tend to end happy overall, but i think Mirror on the Stage, Star to Star, Sun to Sun, and The Common Tongue (Of You Loving Me) are like… the most Joyful?

okay also honorable mention to Rites of Remembrance for having a very horny and very joyful ending XD

8. Do you get hate on fics?

so far, thankfully not! like, a handful of thoughtless comments over the years, but no Hate

(psa: "hey wouldn't it make more sense for this premise if you'd written a completely different fic instead" is a shit comment to give to anyone, alright)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

oh so much

a lot of kink and character/relationship-exploration-y stuff especially! and also i've been called the pegging monarch, so there's that XD

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not really, i tend to have a million AUs instead XD i did write a tiny bit of the hobbit/pacific rim fusion fic ages ago on tumblr! that's probably a contender for the craziest one

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i think so XD someone def asked if they could translate one, but off the top of my head i don't remember if they ever got around to it

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yep! once a few years ago, and more recently just So Much of the trio au

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

saar/solas <3 i've just accepted that they're my forever blorbos at this point (and yep to no one's surprise i did put them in bg3)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the rest of the rites verse fics tbh. i still love my space cats, but whew. no more spark to write in that fandom

16. What are your writing strengths?

i write really good smut and really good horror 💪

also people keep telling me i'm p damn good at characterization, which is good bc to this day i feel like i'm making it up as i go along

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

semicolons em dashes run-on sentences my beloved

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

if you want to, go for it! granted, i'm coming at this mainly from a fantasy language perspective bc that's what tends to come up in what i write, and i'm v much a fan of picking apart fictional languages

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh god that's lost to the ages. Might have been yu-gi-oh???

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

ohhh man HM. toss-up between The S͍̈́o͓̖̖̺͆ͩͣ̑ṋ̻̭̉͋͑g̓ͥ in the Halls and a matter of love, i think? song in the halls was the first time i Really wrote horror (and had SO MUCH FUN WITH IT), while matter of love is, uh. really fucking personal. it means a lot to me. so, yeah!

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