Tumpik
#i love that this website only has one joke
thatonefandomjumper · a day ago
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I feel like a big part of Heroes of Olympus was influenced by audience reaction. 
I don’t think I’m grasping at straws here. I genuinely just don’t get why some decisions were made if this wasn’t the case.
The plot of the books themselves has always felt very muddled to me and that’s why it always feels like it’s supposed to be a story about characters and relationships, but it just kind of isn’t. Sure, on a surface level, yes, and we get some very lovely character dynamics, but it also feels slightly artificial in a way? The plot was built first and the characters thrown into it, but there wasn’t much thought given too how the characters should be with each other. Even the romantic ones.
Though I feel that I could tie this idea into pretty much every part of the books, there are two things that I personally think of the most while discussing this idea.
For one, there’s Octavian’s entire character.
I have always been confused as to what exactly Riordan wanted from Octavian. He really feels like a plot device most times, made solely for the purpose of stirring conflict between the Greeks and Romans. He as an individual never really mattered. Now, there are some very cool people on this website that have managed to squeeze a decent character out of the scenes we got, but with the way he was written, that in itself is a challenge, as post SoN, it feels like the only intent behind his character was to make him as unlikable as possible. He really was a real character in SoN, despite weird decisions here and there (The killing Gwen scene for example was purely to establish that the doors of death weren't working, and to make Octavian unlikable, but Octavian himself really didn’t have any motive for the killing. It benefitted him in no way.)
In SoN, Octavian is manipulative and well spoken, but after that, he is portrayed as some sort of dim witted idiot, clouded by his desire for personal glory.
The only way I can rationalize this shift in character is in the truly visceral reaction the then fanbase had to his character. They loathed him, taking not a second to rationalize his actions, but simply hate. It also made it so Octavian became the but of a lot of jokes. Those jokes characterizing him as his idiot and megalomaniac that it he shown as in Mark of Athena, House of Hades and Blood of Olympus.
I always suspected Octavian was supposed to serve some sort of grander purpose, or his role in HoO was supposed to be at least a little more dignified or dare I say sympathetic, but there really was no turning back with how hated he was, making Riordan embrace it rather than giving him actual human qualities.
Then on the other hand, there’s also Leo and his relationship with romance in general.
I’ve touched upon it in my Caleo essay (That I kind of wanna redo with more points and evidence to back up my claims, because I am unhappy with certain aspects but I still stand by all I said) that Leo is a character that was written in such a way that getting a romantic partner before resolving certain things would actively detriment the development of his character, including healing from his trauma. The way he was written was just not meant for romance and I will take this to my grave. I’m not saying there was no room for romance, but the way they went about it was... very bad. (A girlfriend will fix my problems. That is his mindset. But he doesn’t grow out of it. Instead he gets a girlfriend. A girlfriend that he treats as a fix to his problems when she is not. A girlfriend that is bad to and for him in so many ways.)
But it is very interesting to note, that especially after Mark of Athena, the speculations and demands for Leo’s future girlfriend went absolutely crazy. I can’t speak from experience but from the tweets from Riordan and fanarts from that time that I've seen it was at least to the point that he took active notice of it. 
Besides Nico and Reyna, there weren’t really any other characters just lying around to pair Leo monogamously up with (I doubt Riordan be willing to make any characters besides Nico explicitly queer at the time and then in the next book he decided to pick up one of the background characters and said, you will do, when pairing Nico up with someone. )
There are many more examples I could go into. The universe suffered in many ways from this. Sure, it’s not the only problem that were detrimental. I believe Riordan had a plan from the beginning with all the main plot points of the series, but I feel he didn’t exactly know where he was going with the characters besides the basics. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the HoO characters. That is why I spend so much time talking and thinking about them, but the issues with the series and characters are so many that it’s borderline ridiculous.
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nightmare-b4-christmas · a year ago
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Men want so desperately/are so dead set to pit women against each other that they grasp at straws in order to accuse us of doing it
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wilbursoot-updates · 2 months ago
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Wilbur and Tommy's book, "TommyInnit Says...The Quote Book" will be released on October 13 according to their publisher's website! Description:
A laugh-out-loud Best Of selection of TommyInnit’s most zany and crazy quotes plus much more, curated by Wilbur Soot – a must-have collectible edition for every TommyInnit fan.
‘In all honesty, I think I’d be a pretty bad shark‘ ‘What if God was just legs?‘ ‘There’s only so many green up arrows you can get before your heart becomes one big red YouTube down arrow’
Ask any teenager and they will have heard of TommyInnit and Wilbur Soot. For the last three years, Tom Simons aka TommyInnit, has been mouthing off on the internet to anyone who will listen. So far, that’s over 40 million followers. And Wilbur Soot, his surrogate big brother, has been right by his side.
Known and loved for his funny and absurd sayings, Tom has covered a wealth of topics, from Minecraft to America, and from dating to pet-care. And his fans can’t get enough. Now, for the first time, you can read his wisdom, jokes and missteps in TommyInnit Says… The Quote Book: a funny, collectible edition of TommyInnit’s most abstract and absurd sayings and quotes which will appeal to his millions of fans. Curated and edited by Wilbur Soot, it will be the perfect Christmas gift for Inniters everywhere.
Featuring: *A Day in the Life * Tommy’s Educational Segment * Life Advice from Wilbur * Love Poems * Insights into Tommy and Wilbur’s world … and much more.
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doubleca5t · 16 days ago
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the only compliment I could think to give you is that you’ve got more audacity than almost anyone else I’ve seen on here. you are probably the single most obvious fetishist on this website, and yet you insist you’re not, and that it’s feminists who are the perverts, meanwhile you love to talk about sex clubs and your tit job and all of your furry girldick friends. we’re not sexualizing you, you’re doing it yourself, and you won’t gaslight us the way you’ve gaslit your poor girlfriend
Ok well this one has a lot going on so lemme pick this apart a little at a time
I will happily accept the title of "most obvious fetishist on tumblr dot com" both because I think its funny and because the way radfems use the word "fetishist" it basically just means "trans woman attracted to women" so I can't really take it seriously as an insult coming from you
I don't think radfems are perverts. I think they are overly fixated on the genitals and sex lives of trans people, which sets up some easy jokes by which to call them perverts. Significant difference.
I don't deny being a very horny person, I just don't happen to think that's a bad thing. I know you do but, again, I do not take your opinions on this particularly seriously.
Accusing me of gaslighting my girlfriend is ridiculous. What am I gaslighting her into? Thinking I'm a woman??? I was literally so nervous about dating her specifically because she's a lesbian and I'm a trans woman but she was very supportive from day one and made it extremely clear to me that I did not have to convince her I was a woman, she already saw me as one. I try to keep a measured tone with these anons but honestly anyone who drags Frenzy into their grievances with me can go fuck themselves. She's her own person and she can make her own decisions. If you're gonna talk shit, keep her out of it.
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villainessxassassin · 2 months ago
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hello!, may i ask on how the dorm leaders react to finding out that their S/O still thinks babies came from the stork?
Had a lot of fun writing this, like a LOT of fun.
Dorm Leaders x reader
warnings: there might be slight vague mention of "the birds and the bees" wink wink
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Questions you from which source you got this information from
He loves you but is worried by this misinformation you've been taught
Tells you it's basic knowledge to know that a human baby can't possibly be something delivered to your doorstep by some random bird you call a stork
ah but once you start defending your childhood belief with eyes filled with sparkles he can't help but just stand there and take in what you're saying, mind-bogglingly
Might break the news to you at another time eventually, but right now he's contented and smiling at having you rant on and on about baby delivering birds
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Tells you you're childish. period
A lot of teasing will happen im telling you this now, but not anything too extreme because you're his s/o and all that and he loves u ig <3
He's contemplating whether to tell you where they actually came from or just let you be
He'll play along at the start, wanting to know out of pure curiosity (but won't tell you ofc) why you're so fascinated with this story and still believing in them
Will agree with what you're saying (because if it makes you happy then it makes him happy but again he won't tell you that) but at some point on he will have to tell you where babies actually come from
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What?
I hc he doesn’t know that there’s stories about babies being delivered vis storks
Azul will probably make you rumble about the storks
He thinks it’s interesting though if babies really are delivered with that method (show him the movie storks)
Even though he hears your story out he’ll still knows that it’s only a story and that’s not how you get a child, he’s contemplating if he’ll tell you the truth but your face is making it hard not to break your heart.
Well if you have more childish beliefs he won’t stop you from believing what you were given to believe, but he will tell you someday in the future.
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Believed it too when he was little, and probably still does
I mean he has a lot of siblings so at one point in his life he must have believed storks were bringing them in one after another
(i headcanon he doesn't know about the birds and the bees and ya'll can't stop me👹)
Joins you in your excitement when you explain the story to him
The both of you are laughing and smiling while exchanging your own theories to add on to the topic
Pretty wholesome if you were to ask me, and if anyone were to tell you otherwise about the storks, the both of you would be covering your ears while running in the opposite direction
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Tired of your bullshit end of story
I’m joking ^^
He gives you that 'are you serious?' or 'you have to be joking look'
No hesitation that he’ll straight up tell you that storks delivering babies are only made up in children story books or movies.
When he see’s the crestfallen look on your face he becomes slightly guilty.
He might start explaining how human biology works or change the topic
In the end though he’ll still love you despite your childish beliefs so it’s all good.
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Will make fun of you, lightly, playfully ( i hope)
Gives you this deadpan look he does whenever he gets the ugliest items in a game he plays
If he's too lazy busy to explain he's just gonna look up some random website with an in depth explanation for where babies come from
In another case where you want Idia to tell you directly, that's a whole different story. The ends of his hair tinted a light pink, only getting darker the more you push him to explain further
In another other case where he's just really embarrassed to say anything, he'll just agree with whatever you're saying
I mean if it makes you happy then that just another bonus point for him
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Hmmm? A bird delivering a baby to someone’s doorstep you say?
Malleus had heard of that story before
He knows however that it’s only a story that parents tell to their children...
But oh well he’s like Azul who’ll let you ramble about your beliefs he’ll just nod along as well because of the sparkles he can see when your talking, be it beliefs or your favorite topics
He just finds it cute and endearing
oh and if someone makes fun of what you believe, he’ll defend you with all his life ^^
(i know we be out here making fun of s/o reader for believing in smthing like this when i myself used to be a hard believer of it too :'))
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lectern-fullcauldron · 5 months ago
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A-Z hermit index
hermit summaries: looking for a hermit? here's some (all 26)
bdubs: perfect redstoner. artist. he'll build the most beautiful house you've ever seen as a backdrop for a joke he's doing. he'll see a rake lying on the floor and ask 'is anyone going to step on that so it hits them in the face?' and not wait for an answer. he'll shout at horses and hermits alike (don't tell etho). he's painting with blocks for fun rn
cubfan: he's insane. he takes on massive projects and completes them. he'll build a wall out of ancient debris if the aesthetic calls for it. he knows the game like a master, he'll use it to bemuse you. he's invented biomes, he's invented machines, he looked at parkour and decided it looked like fun. he'll drop anything to help a friend out
docm77: cower before this croc wearing dad. he really wants to be scary. pranking people makes him laugh so hard he snorts. he has the technical world in his ear and mojang's dev team on his heels. he doesn't know how to make a video shorter than an hour. he loves to roleplay to the sound of heavy metal. he'll rap at you. dork
etho: minecraft god. menace. interiors only. does what he wants. speaking of llamas... he won't turn up if it's work. he will if it's hanging out. his block palettes make a regular minecrafter cower in fear. he made a google-searchable storage system for fun. he avoids minecraft tax like the plague. has his own minecraft update
false: queen of heads, hearts, and body parts. the server's designated pvp-er. master builder. will dig down to bedrock. it calls to her, she can't help it. a little quiet, a little shy. dry sarcasm. mayor of falsewell, sheriff. always down for an unsuccessful shop if there's a pun
gem: gem is great! do you want a birch tree with that? people look at her and find themselves doing redstone for her and bringing her things. she's very sweet. she'll kill you. she's building a birch tree in someone's base right now, i can feel it. she's a landscaper, a builder, an artist
grian: this man is Trouble. half builder, half mischief machine. if he sees something he's not supposed to touch, he's got his fingers in it. he's stealing diamonds. he's starting wars. he plays the long game with his lore. he's desperate to resist authority. he will not build the back of anything. he'll break redstone. if he thinks something will be funny, he's convinced to do it
hypno: cryptid. menace. he's a little quiet because he's off figuring out how to get the others to sell him their souls. he's in charge of the website. he'll build a nice little home. he's great at hiding things
impulse: this man is in charge of villagers and sorting systems. he is rich with emeralds. he'll redo a build if he doesn't like it. he joined the server to build them a witch farm. buy his totems of undying. he is kind and generous. he's always willing to play along with whatever nonsense is happening. he loves to laugh
iskall: iskall has a whole catalogue of noises. he likes to montage them. he wants to build a big farm. he wants to say hallo to a block of gravel. he wants to laugh at mumbo. his shops are not about the profits, but about the redstone experience. he likes to domesticate biomes. he built a villager cannon. one day he'll finish a pvp arena. IskallMAN is hermitcraft's superhero. his hobby is making stress laugh
jevin: he covered a megabase with buttons once. jevin goes hard. he has a habit of building fidget spinners. he wants chaos. he will antagonise cleo. he has the energy of a small yappy dog whilst also being determined to help his friends and have fun
joe hills: poet. the guy who conquered death. it's fine. joe's channel is like watching a comedy of endless disasters. next problem. he's building block for block replicas of buildings. he's the original new guy. he's in charge of Hermits Helping Hermits. he'll label nether hubs and give out boats. he'll fight a war with poetry and prank with de-escalation. howdy y'all. keep adventuring
keralis: he's got those big eyes. he's building things too realistic to be in minecraft. he'll pull out his miette voice and make the joke about the German coast guard. need money? papa k's got you. want money? no he's got no diamonds. he's broke. so sorry. he wants to win everything. xb always beats him. he refuses to call anyone by their screen names. shashwammy and bubbles and brian and princess and bumbo
mumbo: it's quite simple, really. he wants to build redstone doors and industrial districts but people keep dragging him into trouble. he's got grian and iskall to drag him into mischief. he loves massive storage systems and control panels. he keeps ending up in charge of things. he will not come to meetings. nothing makes him happier than looking at redstone circuitry on coloured lines
pearl: running on not enough sleep, always. here to cause trouble. she'll turn things upside down. she's a master landscaper. she'll build something massive like it's nothing. she'll commit to the bit. what if the base was bigger? what if she turned it around? she likes doing interiors. she'll build a mountain for fun. unhinged
rendog: head of the drama club. he loves cinematic effects. he loves lore and using his brother's music. he's got a whole dressing up box of characters to play. he can sniff out a story happening and will dive over to throw himself into it. he'll build wonders off camera and pretend it was someone else. he's in charge of the log business, always
scar: landscaper. trouble maker. he doesn't know how to do things in moderation. every build has a story. his cat is in the game. he builds beautiful things and flies into them. he doesn't light things up. he dies again and again and again and again. he loves to put on the costumes and play a part. he's a conman. he'll buy your attic. he's ready to cause trouble. he's shooting people with his bow
stress: she's a builder. she makes things gorgeous. her favourite colour is magenta and her favourite volume is loud. she's shouting at her villager geezers. she's laughing at iskall. she's afraid of the nether. everything she does has an edge of unhinged-ness. she's bright and loud and happy
tango: he's a technical player. i'd call him a minigame maker, but they're bigger than minigames at this point. the tangler, boom box, decked out, among us. he looks at minecraft's mechanics and makes them fun. he launches anvils and builds piglin ferris wheels. he's in charge of iron farms. the rule is that they have to be funny. he wants to help his friends. he wants to make them laugh
tfc: he's deep in the mines. he's the server's hermit. he has a rumbling laugh. he's left in shock by the overworld when he rises. he plays slow. he indulges the others. he died laughing at cleo's ingenuity during demise when he could have easily saved himself. the hermits sent him a new computer. he's got prox mod now
beef: he likes to make maps!! he's very cheerful. nobody bought eternal sunshine. he's a NHO member: etho, beef, bdoubleo, doc. he's a determined builder. he'll make a story. he'll run from the mobs spawning in the city he's left dark for the aesthetic. he sells wool. he collects records
wels: he's a builder. he's a knight. he bites off more than he can chew. he takes his time and builds beautiful things. you think he's in hiding, he's just biding his time. he'll build medieval houses and rant about tennessee's driving conditions. he's cheerful and kind
xb: he's building shapes again. he's beating keralis at minigames. he's kind and helpful. there's gore in his bunker. he's moved so far away he's living on a whole other server. the world is ending but he's built a post-apocalypse anyway
xisuma: he has opinions. he's the admin. he's a little strange. he wants to design his own farms and buildings. he wants to have fun. cleo is going to bully him so bad at HHH. evil x turns up sometimes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. he wants to unravel the game and make new things and learn things. he watches over the others with fond confusion. cleo hasn't forgiven him for the fish
zedaph: mad scientist. he looked at minecraft and then decided to do his own thing. minecraft is the tool for his madness. he wants to fling objects. he wants to build gunk tanks. he wants to stare into the eyes of sheep. he'll build redstone machines that are effectively ineffective. he'll build a working clock. he'll study his friends like bugs. he'll build a golf course if the mechanics demand it
cleo: queen of puppets. the armour stand book is hers. she demands heads. she'll break joe's legs. her dioramas are in high demand. betray her and she'll burn the world down. she's soft really. she's always helping. she wants to build gore and monsters and laugh. joe is living in her base again. she'll kill him (she joined the server hiding behind him)
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kaftan · 8 months ago
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Can you share the names of some of your favorite literary magazines?
I sure can!! Disclaimer: these are all for literary fiction‚ because I personally only really enjoy litfic when it comes to short form writing. But they’re amazing‚ and if genre fiction is more your thing you’re sure to find it by just… looking at suggested accounts on twitter. I hate to bring up the t word‚ but that’s where all the writers (and more importantly‚ the publishers) are.
(Also: all of these litmags have websites where you can easily read what they publish without paying a cent. You can also buy physical or digital issues from most‚ I believe‚ if you want to financially support them. Editing is not a lucrative business!)
Onto recs:
Jellyfish Review: has to take the #1 spot. But I might be biased because the editor who runs the official twitter is just really‚ really funny and good at promoting it. Still‚ it’s the source of some of my favorite flash fiction—just gorgeous‚ inventive stuff. Here’s one that I’m sure I’ve recced before: Vagabond Mannequin by K.B. Carle
Milk Candy Review: this one’s for very short flash fiction. I think their word limit is 750 words? Anyway‚ really amazing stories. Here’s a good one: Scheherazade Tells the Tale of the Northern Shrike by Katie DePasquale
Cotton Xenomorph: fucking AMAZING poetry‚ I’ve barely looked at their other stuff sorry. But I have so many of their poems saved‚ I posted a few before I remade. Let me dig up those links and get back to you. Also I just think it’s really funny that the editor picked the name from a twitter meme that gives you a randomized litmag name. (EDIT: aha! Here!)
Pidgeonholes: simply fantastic‚ and on the fancier side for a small literary magazine (lol). I just checked and they actually also publish speculative fiction‚ so there you go! Love love love their poetry also.
Okay Donkey Magazine: chef’s kiss. Self described as a magazine “for the odd, off-kilter, and just plain weird.” Really good flash fiction & poetry‚ here’s a story I loved from them: Bear by Shayne Terry
No Tokens: I… I can’t not give them a shoutout‚ seeing as they published one of my poems. Little old me! Joking tone aside‚ I really like the stories and poetry they house. Check them out.
❗️Lightning round of some other literary magazines I like‚ sourced from my twitter following list lmao:
Heavy Feather Review‚ Barren Magazine‚ Longleaf Review, Riggwelter Press‚ Passages North (this one’s a national magazine that published an author I adore), Cease Cows
❗️Not Actually Litmags‚ But Check Out These Publishing Presses Because Fuck The Big Five:
Graywolf Press (extremely legit‚ they publish The Good Shit)
Copper Canyon Press (less of a reputation‚ but they also publish Good Shit)
Salò Press (published one of my FAVORITE poets who I discovered online‚ Katherine Osborne‚ her stuff is insanely good)
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ssa-atlas-alvez · 9 days ago
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it’s that one ‘anon’ with the super silly requests dropping in for the first time in a hot minute, i hope you’re doing well! currently having a great time catching up on all of the fics i missed.
as a request/suggestion may i propose to you: rossi pressuring hotch to try out online dating or some kind of online method of meeting someone to talk because he hasn’t dated anyone since haley, and he doesn’t really have friends outside of work. penelope overhears this and, being her slightly mischievous and incredibly smart self, works some of her magic to get him to match with a friend of hers who she just KNOWS would be the perfect fit for him. she’s completely right of course, but it does make for some interesting interactions when hotch finally introduces the person he’s been seeing to the team and penelope has to pretend she is 1. completely shocked that her best friend and boss are dating and 2. totally not responsible from their coincidental/miracle meeting (bonus if the reader figured out penelope had done something early on, so hotch and the reader already know and deliberately try to make her squirm) (male reader please)
Word count: 1096
Rossi had won the argument. After a week of pestering him, he had finally won and Hotch set up an online dating profile. 
“Nice to meet you,” You looked at the man in front of you. He was hot. 
You shook his hand with a smile, “You too,”
First dates were usually… awkward, to say the least, this one, however, went smoothly. You were in a nice Italian restaurant as you were getting to know each other. And, as it turns out, you had a lot in common: you both loved reading (particularly Stephen King), both your favourite Christmas movie was Die Hard - followed closely by The Grinch, you were both allergic to strawberries,  “So, what do you do?” You asked, curiously.
“I work at the FBI,” Hotch answered, “The Behavioural Analysis Unit,”
You nodded, “Wait, do you work with a Penelope Garcia?”
“I do,” Aaron nodded and you gave a small laugh. “Do you know her?”
“She’s my best friend,” You explain, “She convinced me to start dating online,”
“My friend Dave did the same to me,”
Your eyes widened and you grinned, “Did Penelope happen to be close by at the time?”
“I’m not sure, she came in a minute later,” There was a small pause, “She set us up, didn’t she?”
“She most definitely did,” You answered. “She probably hacked the website,"
“That wouldn’t surprise me,”
“I’m so having words with her…” You laughed nervously, “I’m so sorry,”
“Why?” Aaron asked, but smiling, “I’m having fun,”
“That’s good, because so am I,” You grinned. "We can't let her know that we know,"
Aaron nodded, "Sounds like a plan." 
"Are you ready to order?" A waiter asked, approaching the table. You and Aaron exchanged a look before nodding.
“What do you do job wise then?” Aaron asked, when you had both placed your order.
“I’m a grade school teacher,” You said with a nod, “Come to think of it, our jobs are quite similar,” Aaron gave a laugh, butterflies swarmed your stomach.
“I have a son, he’s in 1st grade,” Aaron said.
“Ah,” You said with a nod, before joking, “Enjoy it while it lasts,”
And that was how the night went, the pair of you talking and talking. Not noticing when people began leaving the restaurant, or when they started wiping down the tables to close. In fact, the only reason you did notice was because a waiter approached the pair of you, informing you that they were closing. You both apologised profusely as you pulled out your wallet to pay. After a heated debate on who would pay, you split the bill 50/50, each leaving a generous tip.  
And so, you reluctantly had to part ways. You made sure to give him your phone number, telling him to call you, before you left. 
When you got home, you text Penelope about the date, commenting on how well it went. She phoned you immediately and you explained how he was the perfect gentleman, how much you had in common, and how you were seeing each other again.
Dave grinned when he saw Aaron the next morning, a spring in his step and a smile on his face. "How was the date?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Aaron rolled his eyes briefly at the gesture, "It was good," He said, "We've got a lot in common and we're meeting up again next week," 
"Come Hell or high water I will get you to that date, Aaron," Rossi declared, Aaron laughed, cheeks feeling hot. 
The pair of you continued dating and you never seemed to get over the phase. Soon enough, Aaron was asking if you wanted to meet his team. Naturally you agreed.
"So, Aaron," Aaron turned to Rossi, knowing what was coming by the teasing tone of voice. "Will we be meeting this mystery man tonight?" 
The team gave an 'ooo', Aaron laughed as he nodded, "You will," He gave a groan when everyone cheered, eager to see who had made their friend so happy.
Aaron had told you to dress casual, so you did, blue jeans and a black t-shirt - both close fitting, but not as though they were going to rip if you moved. Even though Aaron had reassured you that you looked amazing, you couldn't help but clench the bottle of wine nervously as you walked up to the door. 
"Oh my God! (Y/N) what are you doing here?!" You turn to the voice, pretending to be shocked.
"Penelope?!" You both quickly embrace before turning to Aaron, "You know Penelope?"
"She's on my team," 
You turn to Penelope, "You know Aaron?!"
"He's my boss," 
"He's your boss?!" You exclaim.
"I was going to introduce myself but it looks like you're in the middle of something," A blonde haired woman said.
"No, no," Penelope said, turning to you, "Pretend you don't know me and carry on," 
"Oh, er, okay," You said, turning to Aaron with a shrug.
"Everyone, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is everyone." He said, "This is Rossi - or Dave, Morgan, Reid, JJ, Emily, and Garcia," 
You shook each and every one of their hands with a warm smile and a 'hello', Penelope included. "It's so nice to meet you," You said go Penelope who rolled her eyes at you with a smile. 
"I'm guessing you know each other?" Rossi asked sarcastically.
"Nope, never met," You said with a shrug, "Nah, she's my best friend," 
"I thought I was your best friend," Aaron joked. 
Penelope hit Derek's arm, "Did you hear that? Bossman just joked. I didn't know Bossman had jokes," 
You snorted, resorting in a half-assed glare from Aaron. Penelope went silent for a moment, studying you before her eyes widened. "Oh God, you know don't you?"
"Know what?" Spencer asked. 
"Yes, Penelope, we know," Aaron answered, Penelope covered her face and groaned, causing you to laugh. 
"I was so subtle!" 
"If you say so," You teased. 
"Slow down, what do you know?"
"That Penelope hacked the dating website so we'd match," Aaron answered, JJ and Emily shook both their heads with a smile. 
"You have a dating profile?" Morgan asked with a smirk.
You winked, "Not any more,"
"On a scale of one to ten how angry are you?"
"Two and a half," You answered, "I wouldn't have gone if you set me up on a blind date so I'm kind of glad you hacked it," 
Aaron grinned, snaking his arm around your waist. "Aww," Penelope looked at the sight in front of her. Her best friend and her boss. Wait. "Does this mean if you marry him you're going to be my boss-in-law?"
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thebibliosphere · a year ago
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Why did you write two versions of Hunger Pangs?
What’s the difference and is one more “valid” than the other?
I get a lot of questions when people find out I wrote two versions of Hunger Pangs (Phangs). To answer that second question first, the only difference is that one contains explicit sexual content, and the other merely alludes to it.
The Flirting with Fangs edition (red cover) contains multiple scenes that depict sexual acts, either solo or partnered. (link)
The Fluff and Fangs edition (blue cover) is less explicit. I say less because while the scene(s) fade to black, some elements of physical affection are still shown, along with a fairly involved conversation about consent and kink. This is in the latter half of Chapter 28, and as noted on my website, you can skip this part if it makes you uncomfortable and not miss anything important to either the plot or character development. (link)
Both versions contain heat ratings and content warnings on my website. I can’t put it in/on the books themselves because Amazon is going after authors for mentioning content warnings (link), so when in doubt, check www.joydemorra.com or send me a message!
And no, one version is not more “valid” than the other. Both are canon. If it helps, think of them as parallel universes running side by side down the narrative timeline. The plot and character development remain the same; the scenes have just been altered to accommodate reader preference. 
Then why do this at all?
As stated above, I wrote two different versions primarily to accommodate reader preference. When I first started writing Hunger Pangs: TLB, I was widely known on Tumblr for being “that erotica editor.” (link) I used to be a ghostwriter for my publishing house, too, so chances are some of you have already read my work under another author’s name*. A large chunk of my professional life has been spent writing sexually explicit content. It’s what I was then known and popular for, so it never occurred to me that anyone who was sex averse or didn’t enjoy reading about sex would be interested in my work.
And then those exact people started messaging me to let me know they were super excited about my work, couldn’t wait to buy a copy and would just skip past the sex parts that made them uncomfortable.
And that didn’t sit right with me. 
Phangs is a bit of a weird project. It was started via a Tumblr shitpost (link) and grew from there. It was funded entirely by the support of my Patreon, which people kept supporting even after it took me years longer to finish it than initially planned because my health took a proverbial nose dive into the tenth circle of hell. It is not an exaggeration to say my Patreon and Tumblr kept me alive during that time. You kept our lights on and put what little food I could eat into my fridge. You supported me both physically and emotionally during one of the worst times of my life. And during that time, I wrote the entire Phangs series, assuming it would be edited and published posthumously**. It was both my swan song and a parting gift. A means of saying thank you for all your support over the years and the fervent hope you’d feel my love on every page. Because never doubt this, I wrote Phangs for you. Phangs is a love letter to fandom from start to finish. It’s written specifically to appeal to fandom and all the things we love about it.
So when people told me they were going to buy it but skip parts of it, I felt the need to make sure they were getting equal amounts of content for their money. So the “fluff” version of the narrative was born, replacing the sex-based scenes with more emotional and “fluffy” but still intimate interactions that keep the character arcs and plot intact.
For the first book, I tried to keep the scenes as similar in theme as possible. That’s why Chapter 28 still features a frank discussion around kink and consent, as a large part of Vlad’s character arc is learning that his wants and desires matter, but more importantly, so do his boundaries. But I also purposefully wrote it so that you can skip away after that conversation and not miss anything in the lead-up to the fade to black/implied sex scene. As the series progresses, the scenes may differ more as I play around having fun with it. But the fact remains that the characterization and plot will always stay true.
It’s merely about what kind of reading experience you want.
Do I expect other authors to do this? Absolutely not. This is a labor of love. The “fluff” version being popular is merely a bonus that enables me to keep writing. So thank you. I’m off to keep working on the next story.
 *Before anyone asks, no, I can’t tell you who. I signed NDAs that are still in effect.
**Jokes on me, I guess because I lived, and now I have to edit and rewrite all 500-f*cking-k of it. 
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bokutosdove · 11 months ago
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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ♡ | 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑.
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warnings: choking, masturbation, mention of knife play and gagging, oral, cum eating, dacryphilia
note: it’s an eren brainrot sort of day so y’all already know … i couldn’t help myself </3
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— first off: masturbation king. one time he touched himself so much in the same day that he was sore after
— really enjoys watching hardcore porn
— more specifically, eren likes the amateur videos you can find on twitter. he can’t stand pornhub or other professional websites because the videos are so fake and scripted. something about a homemade tape hits different for him
— but after he meets you, jacking off to your photos and cumming on his phone screen becomes his first choice <3
— one time he had 4 orgasms in a single sitting while hooking up with you. pussy was that good
— most men only have crotch-centric orgasms, but eren??? he has full-body ones that make his thighs tremble, abs flexing and eyes rolling back. it makes sex all the more addicting for him
— 100% without a doubt has a fleshlight. he bought it as a joke in Spencer’s at the mall, but after trying it one day on a whim, it became his fave sex toy
— when you’re busy with class and can’t come over, he uses it and pretends it’s your cunt. it’s not as tight as yours or as perfect, but it gets the job done
— has tasted himself before. after jerking off and getting thick ropes of cum on his fingers, he popped one in his mouth out of curiosity. not a big fan of the taste, but you love it, so it doesn’t matter 😩
— will still cum inside you and then eat it out anyway, slurping your cunt clean and making you orgasm at the same time
— eren likes to be choked. he is an adrenaline junkie; his blood pressure rises when your hands wrap around his neck, lightly cutting off his breathing as he plows into you
— the whole thing is intoxicating. he literally can’t get enough of it
— knife play advocate. that is all.
— gag kink ✨
— watching you deepthroat him and then choke, your throat convulsing around his cock… it’s such a turn on for him. just knowing that he’s big enough to make your eyes tear up is such an ego boost
— speaking of tears …
— DACRYPHILIA ‼️
— this man loves seeing you cry as he messes with your abused clit and fingers your pussy
— the way tears roll down your cheeks and ruin your mascara, making you look totally fucked-out… he MELTS. the bastard is putty in your hands and can cum without being touched at that point
— creampies are one of his favorite things too
— watching his seed roll out of your quivering hole and down your ass is enough to make him want to fuck you all over again
— dips his fingers into your hot cunt to shove his cum back in <3
— not on birth control??? that’s fine too. eren isn’t the type of guy to coerce you into having sex without one because it “doesn’t feel as good”
— he will literally pull a condom out of his wallet and roll it on without zero hesitation. your pussy is too good to complain
— his favorite sex positions ➤ this , this , this , this
— surprisingly vocal during sex !! he’s not afraid to be loud. lots of groans and moans come from him, especially when he first enters you
— his darkest fantasy is watching any of his friends fuck you, like armin or jean
— phone sex lover. calls you up for a mutual masturbation session at least once a week, getting hard at the sounds of your soft moans over the line and making himself cum at the same exact time as you
— experimented with a guy at a party once and lowkey liked it, but keeps it a secret bc he doesn’t want to admit he might be bisexual🧍‍♀️
— his favorite foreplay activity is taking his dick and sliding it between your folds, the cockhead catching on your clit with every stroke. gets the both of you worked up so fast. he bites his lip so hard that he almost draws blood … the sight of his cock getting shiny with your juices is just something else
— a boob type of guy. doesnt matter what they look like
— they can be small, big, average, perky, droopy, who cares ⁉️ NOT HIM
— eren loves them all and will go FERAL over tits any day
— doesn’t give a shit about pubic hair either. whether you trim/shave or not isn’t important to him
— if eren tries to go down on you and you mention that you didn’t shave, he’s just like “🤨 and what ab it???”
— hair or not, eren eats your pussy and enjoys it
— summary: eren is a horny guy who is always down for a nasty, good fuck :)
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blackpinkofficial · 5 months ago
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BLACKPINKOFFICIAL is closed.
As of today blackpinkofficial will be officially closing.
I’m so proud of the work that all of the staff, new and old, have done to make this blog what it is. We wanted to create a space where tumblr blinks could find quick and easy updates on BLACKPINK and we’ve done just that. It’s been an honor but... we’re not the same staff that we were back when BLACKPINK were active. In fact, I (admin Aly) am the only person that really updates anything lately. I’ve tried scouting for mods but no one is really wanting to update, which I’m not complaining about at all!
There comes a point in time where everything must eventually come to an end. While this ending is very bittersweet for us and it’s going to take some time to get used to not updating BLACKPINK’s every move, I think it will be beneficial in the long run. Those that have worked on this blog have come from all walks of life just to update on four amazing and talented girls and I think that’s something to celebrate as we close things down.
On a more personal note, I’ve been working on blackpinkofficial since the spring of 2017 and working as an active admin since the winter of 2017. Five years of my life has been dedicated to not only BPO but BLACKPINK! I will never stop loving the girls, that’s one thing you can count on, but it’s time for me to move on. With a full time job and college courses on top of that, there’s just no time for me to update you all anymore.
I want to say thank you to those that have followed us for years and to those that have just stumbled across our blog recently. It’s because of you guys that blackpinkofficial has over 97k followers! I so desperately wanted to wait it out until BPO hit 100k with you all but sadly we won’t be making it that far anymore. You have no idea what this blog means to me. It’s been like my baby since I became an admin. Every morning I check our inbox, then I check our Twitter update list to see what I need to update or if I need to update. I know I’ve made a lot of jokes here and there about YG and I hope that those jokes made you guys laugh. There have also been moments where I’ve come across as mean or rude and I apologize for that. 
I know we all have been waiting and waiting for a comeback. We always seem to have to wait and it’s very exhausting but waiting with you all made it somehow worth it. BLACKPINK have brought together almost 100,000 of you on this website and I hope that you continue to support them, we know that we will. 
Again, thank you! I hope you all are happy in whatever the future holds for you.
Signing off,
Admin Aly.
Note: this blog will be kept up for archive purposes. we will no longer be updating.
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blu-joons · 7 months ago
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When You’re A Bookworm ~ BTS Reaction
Jin:
You watched closely as Jin joined you on the bed, reaching across to his bedside table and picking up a book, much to your surprise beside him.
“Namjoon thought I might like this one,” Jin smiled, as if everything was normal between you both.
“You never read,” you laughed as you watched him turn the first page, “has your phone just not got enough battery to play on tonight?”
“I want to get into reading like you.”
You looked quizzically back to Jin, surprised by his sudden enthusiasm. “What’s the book even about?” You asked Jin, struggling to figure it out as you decided to inspect the back cover for yourself.
“Namjoon just said I’d like it, past that, I really don’t have a clue what it’s going to be about.”
“What if it’s rubbish?” You challenged, “maybe it’s a prank.”
Jin’s eyes widened, turning the book so that he could see the blurb. “I hope not, I was serious earlier when I told him to pick a book.”
“Are you sure that you want to read?” You asked him, “you know that reading by myself has never bothered me too much.”
“I’m interested, I think it’s pretty cool too.”
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Yoongi:
You looked suspiciously to Yoongi as he handed you a parcel, watching as you unwrapped it, letting go of a gasp as you tore the packaging away.
“It’s the right one, isn’t it?” Yoongi asked, watching on anxiously as you took the book from the box.
“How did you know?” You laughed, turning the book around so that you could check its condition, “it’s the sequel to the one I finished.”
“I managed to find it online for you.”
You made your way over to Yoongi, wrapping your arms around his waist, “I can’t say thank you enough, I’ve searched everywhere to try and get my hands on this, and then you go and find it so easily.”
“I know you loved the first book, there was no way that I could leave you without the sequel.”
“That’s my night read sorted,” you laughed, “this is so kind.”
Yoongi smiled back down at you as you rested against his chest, “I thought I’d order it because it might win me some boyfriend points.”
“It’s definitely done that,” you agreed, “you must have looked on so many websites to try and get a copy of this.”
“I did, but it was most definitely worth it.”
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Hoseok:
It was only a matter of time before Hobi appeared beside you, resting his head against your shoulder to subtly curl up beside you, with his arm across your waist.
“Is it a good book?” He asked, trying to break the silence that was between the two of you.
“It’s alright,” you laughed, knowing exactly what he wanted as he innocently smiled up at you, “I was enjoying it at least, before you came.”
“You can just pretend I’m not here.”
Your head shook, knowing just how needy Hobi could be, and exactly what his smile was trying to tell you too. “I have been reading a lot today, I guess five minutes doing something else wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Are you sure that five minutes is enough? How does half an hour sound to you instead of that?”
“You really want me?” You teased, “are you this desperate?”
Hobi nodded confidently back at you, “I love watching you read, but sometimes I wish I was your book with your attention instead.”
“I guess I can leave this for later,” you smirked, marking the page of your book, “have you got something in mind?”
“Cuddles, that’s all I want from you.”
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Namjoon:
You smiled softly as a figure dropped down beside you on the sofa, looking to your right to see Namjoon joining you, a book in his hand too.
“If you can’t beat them, join them,” he joked, placing his bookmark on the cushion between you.
“What are you reading?” You enquired, struggling to tell what it was just from looking at the title, “it looks interesting to say the least.”
“I’m not really too sure to be honest.”
Your eyes rolled at his honesty, expecting nothing less from Namjoon. “How are you going to know if you’ll enjoy it if you don’t even know what it’s about? What if it ends up being a romcom, or something girly?”
“I asked the lady at the bookstore for something historic, and she told me that this would be good.”
“Do you trust her?” You asked, “because I’m not so sure.”
Namjoon thought back with a sigh, “she did have a weird look on my face, I wonder if she thought that I was buying for you.”
“Everyone in that bookstore knows that you’re my boyfriend,” you reminded him, “it wouldn’t be he worst conclusion to draw.”
“Maybe I’ll find a different book instead.”
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Jimin:
Your eyes looked down as a head rose up, coming between you and the pages of your book as Jimin settled in the middle of your chest to take a look.
“I’m here too, remember,” he joked, having been starved of your attention for most of the night.
“Sorry, this book is just so good,” you replied, as his eyes tilted up to look at you, “I want to put it down, but I just can’t yet.”
“How much longer will you be?”
Your shoulders shrugged as you checked how much was left of your chapter, “I’d love to tell you that I’ll be done soon, but part of me is tempted just to finish this book tonight, I’ve never read something so gripping.”
“If I leave you alone for tonight to finish it, will I be able to have your attention tomorrow night?”
“I’ll put it down,” you spoke, “you obviously want me now.”
Jimin quickly stopped you from putting the book down, “read it, I’m only messing with you, I don’t mind busying myself.”
“Thank you,” you smiled as Jimin pushed himself back out, “I’ll make sure that I finish it, and then I’ll be all yours.”
“Don’t worry, I’m holding you to this tomorrow.”
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Taehyung:
You looked around in confusion as Taehyung led you into the spare bedroom catching on straight away to the bookshelf that was nee against the back wall.
“It’s yours,” Taehyung smiled as you looked to him, shaking your head in disbelief at what was there.
“When did you get this?” You laughed, taking a few steps towards the shelf so that you could admire how fresh the wood was on it.
“Your other one is full, isn’t it?”
Your head nodded, impressed that Taehyung had even paid attention, noticing a few of your books on the bottom shelf. “I don’t even know what to say, this is so lovely Taehyung, I don’t even have the words.”
“Your books will get dirty on the bedroom floor; you need somewhere to put them to keep it safe.”
“You’re the best,” you chuckled, “this is beyond belief Taehyung.”
His smile grew, relieved that you were happy with it, “I surprise myself by how easy it was to put together this afternoon.”
“You built it?” You quizzed, doubting him slightly, “you mean to say that you built a whole bookshelf all by yourself?”
“Well, I might have had a bit of help.”
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Jungkook:
A chuckle came from Jungkook as he left the bathroom, finding you sat in bed, reading through the next chapter of the book that you were halfway through.
“I leave you alone for five minutes,” he joked as you looked up to see that he had finished washing.
“Sorry, I’ve been itching to know what happens next,” you explained, pulling the duvet back so that Jungkook could slide in beside you.
“Do you want to carry on reading it?”
As he rested his head down on the pillow, you looked around the room to see how much light was in the room. “Won’t you struggle to get to sleep if I leave my lamp on, it’s bright in here, and you need to rest.”
“Trust me, I’m tired enough I think I could sleep under a torch, you carry on reading your book.”
“I’ll tell you what happens tomorrow,” you smiled, “it seems promising.”
Jungkook nodded in agreement back at you, “don’t stay up reading for too long, you need to get some rest in you as well.”
“One chapter, that’s all I’ll read,” you vowed, “but if you can’t sleep, tell me and I’ll put it down sooner to darken the room.”
“Y/N, the room is perfect, I promise.”
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---
Masterlist
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greenorangevioletgrass · 10 months ago
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wildest dreams (t.h.)
“nothing lasts forever, but this is gonna take me down.”
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masterlist | kofi
pairing: tom holland x domme!reader
summary: tom sets out to blow off some steam at a bdsm club during the far from home press tour in bali... and gets so much more.
word count: 8,275
warnings: language, drinking, shenanigans, harry and sam make a cameo, d/s dynamics, dominatrix!reader, a lot of yearning, a lot more smut! (specific warnings under the cut!)
notes: here we are, folks! it started with a gossip blind item and now we’re here. this wouldn’t have come to fruition if it weren’t for @shipping-not-sailing and @tommysparker ily guys <3 enjoy!
smut warnings: [degradation, punishment, pet names, slight pet play?, spanking, use of riding crop, light bondage, dirty talk, edging (both sexually and emotionally lmao), oral (f), unprotected sex, very brief anal fingering]
***
Amazing. Brilliant. Show-stopping. Next level. Just the best.
Spread over four cities and about a million interviews for this one movie, Tom has heard all the possible compliments known to man. And it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate them —too much ego-stroking just makes him feel uneasy. He’s not really saving the world from super-villains and global catastrophes. Hell, he’s not even the real hero of the job; he just runs around playing pretend in tight spandex, while the stunt team and VFX do a lot of the weightlifting. It makes him feel undeserving of the praise. 
Of course, being Tom Holland, he’d sooner be caught dead than coming off as less than enthusiastic (or worse, downright rude) during his press junkets. Sometimes professionalism is about taking it in stride. So he smiles through the interview, once again joking about how much Marvel keeps him out of the loop when asked about a spoiler for the next Spider-Man movie. If there will be any more of it.
“I mean, I would love to do more. I’d play Spider-Man for as long as I can, if I’m honest. But, uh, let’s hope Marvel and Sony feel the same, too,” he replies diplomatically.
Meanwhile, his mind wanders to what he should do to unwind when the day is over. He could go swimming —the villa he’s staying in has a private infinity pool overlooking the sea. Or he could grab a few drinks and check out a club; he is in Bali, after all.
“Congratulations on a job well done. It’s really the best Spider-Man movie so far and you’re the best Peter Parker ever, and once again. Thank you very much, Tom.”
The praises hit him like bricks, and it takes him everything to not wince as he shakes the interviewer’s hand. “Cheers, mate. Nice meeting you.”
Tom knows just what to do to unwind. Truth be told, he’s been thinking about it since the world premiere in LA, but surrounded by all his friends, there’s no way he’d have the time or space for this. Besides, he figured he could save this for a rainy day. 
And if that rainy day happens to just… happen in the vacation/party capital of the world, he sure isn’t complaining.
The room goes into a lull in between interviews, and Tom uses this to send Harry a link captioned,
Tom: can u sus out this place for me mate? thanks
He sees Harry reach into his pocket on the corner of the room. The redhead leans against the wall and pauses, probably opening the website and skimming through the content. His eyes widen for about two seconds until he looks around, making sure nobody’s watching or peeking at his screen and composing himself.
The website’s shows ‘The Edge of Uluwatu’ on the header in a clean white font against the sleek black background. But the layout is about the only thing that is simple about this. The homepage boasts a slideshow of artsy, provocative pictures of a riding crop bitten between a woman’s red-stained lips, teeth bared like a vixen. Another woman with her stiletto heels against a man’s face, a la Margot Robbie in The Wolf of Wall Street, except the man is half naked and wearing a leather collar around his neck, the very rope tugged by the same woman herself. Another picture of arms bound behind their back in an intricate shibari tie, gentle hands fastening it.
Harry manages to keep a straight face as he types up a reply.
Harry: what the fuck????
Tom: just ask ade man, cmon pls 🙏
Harry glares at him, but Tom merely glances at the person in question. Ade, Tom’s liaison officer in Bali, is a young woman not much older than the lot of them. She has a warm smile, but something about her also screams a solid ‘Do not fuck with me’ vibe. In summary, Harry has no idea whether she would laugh in his face or tell him to piss off.
Harry scowls, but comes up to Ade at the craft service table anyway. He picks up a bottle of water as he gathers the word (and what’s left of his pride) in his head.
“Hey, Ade. Listen,” Harry clears his throat, his voice feels scratchy. His heart all but drops to his knee when she turns to him, “We don’t have anything scheduled for Tom tonight, right?”
“No. Unless you want me to set something up for you…?” Ade offers, already taking out her phone out of her back pocket. Ever so efficient, she might just be better than Harry at this job.
“Um, I was thinking of checking out a club…”
“Sure! What vibe are we looking for? Signature cocktails? Great live music? Private beach area—”
“Have you ever heard of The Edge in Uluwatu?”
It takes Ade less than two seconds to catch on, but God, if it isn’t the longest pause Harry has ever felt. “Uh… yeah. It’s not so much a ‘drinking and dancing’ kind of nightclub as it is a, how do you say it… a gentleman’s club,” she smiles politely, meaningfully to make sure he understands.
Harry makes a mental note about how he’ll kick Tom’s ass for what he’s about to ask Ade. He squares up and says,
“I know. I was wondering if it’s legit, as in proper and — um,” he looks around the room to make sure nobody’s listening in, “kink-friendly.”
Ade raises an eyebrow as it finally dawns on her what exactly this Linguine-looking dude is looking for. She must’ve thought he’s one hell of a kinky boy. But she nods in all seriousness. “Oh, it is. Yeah. We get a lot of VIP guests going through there —actors, musicians, businessmen… they’re very discreet. Real class.”
That went down easier than I hope, Harry muses. “Cool! Um.” he shifts on his heels. Already bracing for the worst, he’s not sure what to do with himself now. Should he explain himself? Does he need to arrange something? How the hell do you make an appointment at a club like that?!
“I’ll arrange a car for… 10.30 tonight, is that okay?” Ade gratefully, kindly puts him out of his misery and pats the poor boy on the back as she goes to greet the next interviewer.
“Well?” Tom looks up expectantly as Harry walks past him.
“How do I say this…” he stuffs his hands in his hoodie pocket, “I want a big fat raise and a new camera.”
Tom simply laughs. A small price to pay for a naughty good time, really.
***
The Edge seems like any other luxury resort on the island. Tucked behind winding roads and lush greens on each side, the handsome minimalist villa sits on top of a cliff, with waves crashing against the rocks down below. A spacious foyer, tastefully decorated with local sculptures and warm lighting, greets incoming guests, where they’d be escorted into one of the rooms on either wing of the building.
But of course, the rooms aren’t ordinary hotel rooms. Behind each door is a suite professionally decorated into a theme, from sensual French boudoirs to classic sex dungeons and medical suites to cater for clientele with every kind of taste.
Currently, Y/N is sitting in the Moulin Rouge-inspired room-- lush purple walls and rich red sheets and Bohemian decor- fixing up her sheer dressing gown in front of the vanity mirror, making sure her wine-colored lipstick and batwing eyeliner are flawless. 
She receives a text message from the front desk. ‘Your client is here. On the way to you now.’
And from there, it’s just a waiting game.
Y/N would drape herself on the daybed sometimes, or sit by the massive four-poster bed, or hang back at the break room to make them wait an extra minute or two. Play up the dramatics of this gig.
But tonight… It feels like a low-key night. She’d read the dossier of her incoming client —someone new. Nothing too extreme, as far as kinks go. It should be an easy enough session to cap off her shift. So she stays seated on the plush bench and plays with her hair while she waits.
The door makes a soft beep as it reads a key card from the other side, and Y/N sees her client’s face before he does. He spots her on the other end of the room and scrambles to close the door behind him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were already here, I—”
Y/N raises a hand, promptly stopping this boy’s rambling. She doesn’t speak right away, and the tension is thick in the air. One might think she does it to tease him-- when in reality, she does it for her own benefit.
She only fell asleep watching Spider-Man on Netflix last night, after all.
“It’s alright. I just thought I’d… freshen up.” she finally turns around and stands to her full height, heels and all. She approaches her new client and offers her hand.  “Tom, right?”
“Yes.” He takes her hand and kisses the back of it.
She stays cool and unfazed as she takes a better look at his face, now certain this is the same face she saw in the movie last night.
“Charming,” she remarks with a half-smile. “I’m Mistress Ivy.”
“Nice to meet you, Mistress Ivy.” he nearly bows before her, and she thinks it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen in a while.
“Please, make yourself at home.” She motions over the entire room, choosing the daybed by the window to sit, fully knowing it makes her look like a painting of Venus.
Tom visibly gulps, glancing at the chaise and then back to her as he waits for her permission.
She gestures at the empty spot next to her and watches him sit down, keeping an appropriate distance between them. Like a good sub, Y/N notes.
“So what brings you here, Tom?” she crosses her legs and notices him looking.
“I, uh… I want to be punished.”
“Mm. And how do you like to be punished?”
“I… like to be spanked. And tied up. And degraded and called names.”
Y/N nods and smiles knowingly, noticing his clear and concise answer. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Always good to know what you want,” she reassures him.
The two of them talk some more about the technicality of their session, and Y/N finds herself studying Tom a little further as he relaxes into the conversation. Flustered, but bold. Eager, but respectful. She briefly thought he was a sweet kid in the movie (she’d probably have a crush on him as a high schooler, she mused), but that’s about it. But now that he’s in front of her, she begins to see much more.
Tom is more on the petite side, but all lean and taut muscles, if his forearm and the lining of his fitted shirt and dress pants were anything to go by. He carries himself with such ease in his own skin— grounded and grown up, but not enough to get rid of the earnest air about him. His big doe eyes and the slight bump in his nose makes him all the more endearing.
She’s starting to think maybe she’d have a crush on him now, too.
“I gotta say… you look like a sweet boy,” Y/N muses as she makes her way towards the chest of drawers across the bed. “I wonder what you did that warrants a punishment, darling?”
His eyes darken and his cheeks redden at the pet name. “I… fuck. I’ve been an insufferable little shit all day,” he confesses.
“And a foul-mouthed one at that, too,” she notes, “Watch your language.”
“Right. Sorry.”
She looks at him pointedly. “‘Right sorry’ what?”
“Right, sorry, Mistress.” Tom looks down, though he can’t help stealing a glance at his alluring domme across the way.
“I thought you’ve done this before. Or should we start easy for a cocky pissbaby like you?” she coos mockingly, her head tilted to the side, still calm as can be.
Tom promptly straightens up. They’re not fucking around anymore now. “No, Mistress. I can take it. I promise.”
She takes one more appraising look at him. “We’ll see. Why don’t you strip down to your underwear while I choose the toy I’m gonna use to play with you, hmm? Can you do that, sweetheart?”
He normally likes the more brutal names, but the way she says ‘sweetheart’ feels like poison, and he can’t get enough of it. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Go on, then.” she turns away, as much as she’d like to watch him peel all those layers off of him. It’s so easy to forget how much this dom/sub dynamics is a test to her patience, too.
Tom slips out of his clothes in about 3.6 seconds, and he’s never been more thankful for his military training for an upcoming project. He stands up straight in front of the sofa, hands crossed in front of his lap to conceal his semi-erection.
“Are you wound up already?” Y/N glances down at his clasped hands.
“No…” He doesn't know how to answer that.
“You’re only gonna get in more trouble if you lie to me, baby…”
His head couldn’t decide fast enough if he wants to get in her good graces or get the punishment he’s been craving, and he ends up stammering around like an idiot.
She rolls her eyes impatiently. “For God’s sake. Are you or are you not hard right now?”
His first instinct is to try and will his boner away, but the more he does it, the more he imagines the punishment that awaits him.
And the harder he gets at the thought of that.
And stupidly, mindlessly, he still looks at her for an answer with, “No…?”
“Hands to the side, then. Let’s see it.”
Fuck. He slowly unclasps his hands, hoping for one last miracle that his erection would magically go away somehow. But of course, there he is, pitching a tent underneath his boxer briefs before even doing anything.
“Oh, you’re just looking for trouble, aren’t you?” she chuckles darkly. “I was gonna put you over my knees, but now I’m not sure I want your hard, leaking cock pressed against me.”
“No. Please, Mistress, I—” he drops to his knees, ready to crawl his way to forgiveness.
But she raises her hand, and he immediately halts. It’s amazing how her presence arrests his attention immediately; no raised voices, not even a curse word out of her. And yet he feels more deliciously tortured than he ever imagined he’d be tonight.
She doesn’t say anything for the longest time either. Just… studies him. His brown curls, even browner eyes, and his chiseled chest —rising and falling with each bated breath.
“Look so pretty on your knees, like a puppy,” she sighs. “Well, come over here, then. On all fours. Off you go.”
He makes his way across the room, and Y/N indulges in the workings of his back muscles as he crawls to her feet. Tom stops just inches away from your legs, remembering his place for once.
She makes the first move to run her fingers through his hair, and shivers at the touch just as he does. “Got anything to say to me?”
He looks up at her, “I’m sorry, Mistress.”
Y/N is mustering up all of her willpower to not give in to those big brown eyes. “Sorry for what, puppy?”
“I’m sorry for, for…”
“For being a pathetic little whore?”
Tom moans and hums.
She tightens her grip on his hair, tugs it back so he looks her in the eye. “Say it.”
His eyes shut and he takes a deep breath to brace himself. “I’m sorry, Mistress, for being a… pathetic little— whore who… couldn’t keep his own cock in check in front of his Mistress.”
Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up; she wasn’t expecting the second half of that sentence. But needless to say, she was pleasantly surprised. “That’s much better, isn’t it? My sweet, pathetic little whore.”
Tom nuzzles her leg, the side of his face rubbing against the sheer fabric of her dressing gown as she softly scratches his scalp.
“Ready for your punishment, whore? Mm? Are you?”
The looming threat underneath her soft, dulcet voice is driving him mad, and he can only nod and murmur ‘yes Mistress’ and ‘thank you Mistress’ as she orders him to bend over by the foot of the bed.
“Tell me,” she starts, “In a perfect scenario, what would your toy of choice be for your punishment?”
He grips the sheets hard. The only thing worse (or better, arguably) than the punishment itself is the anticipation. The sizzling moments of silence in between. There’s nothing he wants more than to look over his shoulder and see what his Mistress is up to. But something tells him she’ll deny him even further if he does.
So he swallows and says, “Your open hand,” his knuckles white at the thought of her sweet, soft hands on his body.
“Is that right?” there’s a hint of a smile in her voice.
“More than anything, Mistress.”
“Well. As much fun as that sounds, it’s not a punishment if you get what you want, right?”
He’s in deep fucking shit.
“But it’s not my punishment, so I can get what I want…” she croons. “And I want to use this on you.”
Tom gasps as soon as he feels it touch the back of his neck. It’s small and barely textured, the edges ever so subtly scratching his skin as she runs it down his spine.
“You’re gonna take it, aren’t you? You’re gonna take it anyway like the pathetic little whore you are,” she whispers in his ear.
He shivers and whimpers out a ‘yes Mistress’ more desperate than the last.
And then comes the swift swoosh of the riding crop, and then a snap.
Sharp and stinging against his backside.
He bites back a moan, unsure whether he’s allowed to make any sound.
“How do you feel?”
‘So good, Mistress, oh my God…”
Another strike lands on his right cheek, harder this time.
“Where the hell are your manners, huh?” she whips him on the other cheek.
“I’m sorry. Thank you so much, Mistress…”
“That’s more like it. Enjoying yourself, pup?” Y/N swipes the crop down the dip of his lower back and she swears he nearly buckles down.
He feels another lash on each of his inner thighs, where his boxer briefs meet his skin, “I am, Mistress, thank you,” and he finds himself arching his ass higher for her.
And for her only.
And this woman, with all her power and her pride, only scoffs at his response. “Well, you shouldn’t be. This is a punishment, remember?” Her smooth, honey-sweet voice is a stark contrast to the nasty cracks of leather against Tom’s skin.
She strikes him one, two, God knows how many more times. And for him, it’s both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time. It sends him singing to the high heavens, yet it’s not enough to keep him floating in the air.
And like Orpheus and his star-crossed lover Eurydice, he eventually succumbs to his temptation. He catches a glimpse of Mistress Ivy, with her wine-colored lips between her teeth, the bell sleeves of her black dressing robe flowing over the motion of her arm. She looks…
Magical.
And as quickly as she sends him up to the clouds, she yanks him back to the ground with one sharp glare.
“No, no, no.” She turns his face away with her riding crop, letting it sit under his chin. “You don’t get to look, baby. You just get to take what I give you, okay?”
He faces forward and fixes his posture again, though not without a whine.
But once he’s had a taste, he can’t go back. With every lash, he moans his thanks. His pleas— for what, he’s not entirely sure himself. 
“Please, please, please. Mistress, I…”
“What do you want, pup?” Y/N ceases her strikes and slides her riding crop right between his legs, right against his stubborn cock. Fluttery, feather-lightly. Fucking threatening.
Tom bites his lower lip to contain his needy whines. “More…”
“More what?”
“Just— more.”
He’s starting to lose balance on his feet and focus in his eyes, teetering on the edge of subspace, and Y/N motions towards the bed.
“Take off your pants and lie on your back in the middle of the bed.” she sends him off with a soft pat on his rump, and returns to the chest of drawers.
There’s a lull, but Tom likes it. He savors the precious moment of relief, to breathe and rest his shaking knees and sore ass —and oh how it tingles when his bare skin meets the silk sheets.
But most importantly, he gets to watch his Mistress take out a couple of silk ropes and walk over to the headboard, with the robe floating behind her. She sits by his side, palm open for him to surrender his wrist to, and he nearly swoons at how gentle her touch really is. His soft binds might as well be sandpaper compared to how deft and delicate she works them around his hands.
“You’re very pretty,” he pipes up quietly.
She smiles a little, “Thank you,” as she fastens the dark red rope on his other wrist, one against each side of the bedpost, and he swears it’s almost… tender.
Almost. 
“Don’t think you’re getting away easy just by a little flattery, though,” she deadpans, and stands up on the side of the bed.
Y/N has to remind herself to slow down. Enjoy the moment. The view of this pretty boy, arms spread and restrained, carved up by the gods, entirely in her mercy. Fuck, she loves her job sometimes.
She tugs the string around her waist and lets her dressing robe slip off of her shoulders. The heat is starting to get to her— whether it’s from the exertion or simply from the tension, she’s not sure. But she loves putting on a show, and she loves seeing the wind knocked out of him even more.
Tom’s cock flexes at the sight of her and she thinks, gotcha.
“You’re enjoying this little punishment way too much, aren’t you.'' She lands an experimental whip on his pec, eliciting a strained groan out of him.
“No, Mistress…” he shuts his eyes hard, brows furrowed, like he’s trying to convince himself.
Crack! Another lash on his inner thigh. “Then what’s this, huh?” she whips higher one time, and then another, inching closer towards his erection.
He’s shameless squirming from the impact now. “I can’t help it, Mistress, please!”
“Please what?” The whip slides under his strong jawline.
A whimper, and then… “Punish my cock. Please.”
“Oh, this?” her riding crop moves swiftly along his curving member. “This desperate, pathetic cock of yours? In your dreams, slut.”
She slaps him across the face, and it is a miracle that he doesn’t cum right then and there— and quite frankly, it’s quite remarkable that she’s still able to stay calm and focused. His torso is her canvas, and with every strike, she paints it a little more red, a little bit every time. His tip leaks pearly tears as it envies other parts of his body that she deems worthy of her attention.
Little does he know, the rest of her world long faded away until it’s just him.
Sweat beads on her forehead, and the handle of her whip practically melds into her palm, now an extension of her limb. The way he squirms at every touch sends shivers down her spine. Oh, how badly she wants to feel his skin burning on her naked palm.
And by the way he strains against his binds and arches after every lash while chanting Mistress, he seems just as desperate for her, too.
“What is it, my little slut? Have you learned your lesson?” Y/N asks in a saccharine-sweet tone.
He tugs his wrists up. “I’ll be a good boy, Mistress, I swear.”
“That’s more like it, pup…” she smiles in satisfaction, reining in her punishment for the finale. “How about we do 5 more lashes, and then we’ll get you out of these ropes, hmm?”
But he turns away, his jaw flexing as he processes your words. “You haven’t… you haven’t punished my cock once— please?”
Y/N’s ice cold facade has melted for the most part, and it takes her everything to not give him… well, everything.
“Such a good little whore, asking for his punishment…” she coos condescendingly. “But you can’t cum, alright? Not during, not after. Can you keep your cock in check for me, puppy?”
“Anything for you, Mistress,” he sighs, resting his head back on the soft pillow.
It’s not like she didn’t want him to cum. If she had it her way, she would’ve straddled his lap and jumped his bone in a heartbeat. But the club applies a strict no-sex policy, and it weighs her down in the back of her mind like a distant, persistent alarm.
The last five lashes are the most torturous of all— not just for him, but for her. His cock presses stubbornly against his toned abs, the wide patch of skin now glossy from precum, and the two of them put all their mind to counting down the final moments of the punishment, distracting them from the one true temptation.
For Tom, it’s coming undone from her ministrations. For Y/N, it’s letting him do so.
Five. Four. Three.
Two. 
One.
For a split second, Tom is actually convinced he’s gonna lose his mind as the orgasm teeters on his every nerve ending. And then…
Nothing.
It dissipates until it’s nothing but a dull ache, and by then, he feels a gentle tug on his wrist. One and then another. And then he’s free, though he makes no effort to test it.
“Tom?” The same sweet voice from earlier calls out. Quietly. Carefully. “You still with me?”
The bed dips next to him, and he finds himself reaching out. “Mistress?”
“Hey…” there’s no malice in her voice anymore— no mischief. “You did so good for me, baby.”
He feels her hand on his wrist, rubbing gentle circles with her thumb, and he feels like he just won the lottery. “Thank you,” he breathes out.
Her soft fingertips travel up to his shoulder, soothing his tender skin with her palm. On his chest, his flushed cheeks, on his pronounced hip bones, and taut inner thighs. Falling asleep has never felt so easy, but he fights the urge to meet her eyes.
Her kind, curious eyes looking down at him — studying him, much more earnestly this time.
“Are you alright? Do you need anything?”
“Would you…” he swallows, just realizing how spent his throat is from the whispering and the whining and the begging, “Would you lie here with me, just for a sec?”
And Y/N wants to cry in relief. “Of course.”
She climbs into bed next to him, too close to give him space, but too far to alleviate the yearning between them. His hand is on his chest and she rests her palm on top of it, and if their legs get tangled on the sheets, neither of them say a word.
***
Two showers, eighteen hours and countless interviews.
That’s how long it’s been since Tom’s little recreational activity last night, and he’s still not able to get it off of his head. He’s running on autopilot, answering the same questions over and over again, all the while terrified he might blurt out something he’s not supposed to.
He doesn’t even realize he’s shaking hands with the last interviewer of this press tour leg until the person had left the room. Barely remembers getting into a car. Stepping out at a beach club and having a drink with Sam, Harry, and Ade.
“You alright, mate?” Sam frowns, snapping him out of his reverie.
“What? Yeah, sure.” Tom expertly waves him off. “It’s just been a long day, is all.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to go scuba diving tomorrow!” Harry groans, but then turns to Ade. “I mean, ‘surfing’, for the record. We are going surfing tomorrow.”
Ade laughs. “You know I was assigned to be buddies with you guys to make sure you don’t get into anything stupid, right? Marvel’s not letting you off the hook that easily.”
“Exactly, we’ll take what we can get,” Sam retorts without missing a beat. “And hey, you also get to break the rules with us a bit.”
The twins exchange mindless banter with their chaperone, but Tom simply laughs along. His mind is elsewhere.
“I’ll get the next round, alright?” he gets up from his seat and heads towards the bar. He signals the bartender over, finding an empty spot between a massive Viking-esque dude and a woman in a pale blue sundress at the bar.
“Hi, can I have four more Guinnesses, please? Thanks.”
Tom keeps his head down, wary of getting noticed, but he can’t help feeling a pair of eyes boring into his side.
“Holy shit.”
Her voice should have set him off. He should have ducked out before the patrons mobbed him for selfies and Spider-Man-related questions, but something about her— her timbre, her inflection made him stop.
And when he looks up, he’s convinced he was making shit up in his head.
“Mistress Ivy, I… wow. Hi.” He knows he shouldn’t say it, but otherwise he wouldn’t be able to tell if it’s true or his mind is playing tricks on him. 
She laughs, and oh God, what a sweet laugh she has. “I don’t go by that out here. I’m off the clock, see?”
“Well, nice to meet you, Mistress Off-The-Clock. I’m Tom.”
“Charming,” she grins, saying the exact thing she said last night— because she means it. She offers her hand, “I’m Y/N.”
The irony of shaking hands, again, after everything they’ve been through the other night is not lost on them, as they each hold back a smile.
“So, uh, what brings you here?” Tom asks, gingerly scratching the back of his neck.
“It’s my night off,” Y/N motions at the beer bottle in her hand.
“Oh, same.” He regrets responding so quickly— now he has no idea where to go with this conversation. All he knows is he doesn’t want this to end yet. So he gambles his life and says,
“Do you wanna get some air?”
She raises her eyebrows, and he could recognize that look anywhere. That amused, knowing look she makes every single time he does something bad last night. “What about your four Guinnesses?”
Tom looks at the new, full beer bottles in front of him, and back at his table, where the trio is talking and laughing without a single care. So he faces her again. “They’ll be fine.”
It’s always strange to run into a client outside of work, but Y/N has to admit, this time, it’s not… unwelcome.
“Shall we?” Tom tilts his head towards the beach, and with that, she leads the way out.
Y/N takes off her sandals as soon as they step off of the deck, and they walk for a little bit. Arms accidentally grazing as they move away from the hustle and bustle of the bar, closer towards the gentle waves and quiet rustles of leaves. They walk and walk until the crowd feels distant and they sit under a palm tree with their toes buried in the sand.
She watches him become himself —confident and earnest at the same time. He doesn’t say much about the glitz and glamour of his work (he doesn’t think she’d be impressed by it anyway), but she likes how he lights up when he talks about home. He is every bit as fascinated about her work and her completely unrelated university major. It’s refreshing, and a painfully easy non-first date. And she’s completely right that she would have a crush on him.
In fact, she might already have.
Tom takes a swig of his beer, partly in amazement of her academic achievements, and partly in good-natured self-deprecation. “Aw man, I could never do what you do. School was rough for me. My parents put me through Catholic school for a while and—”
“Catholic school, huh? Is that why you turned out so… perverse?” her smile grows wide and naughty.
“Hey! Don’t kinkshame me,” he nudges her elbow, quietly impressed that he didn’t spontaneously combust at the touch.
But she’s always one step ahead of him, and God, he loves that. She leans back on her forearm and lies on her side, looking like Venus under the moonlight with wits as quick as Hermes.
“I’m not! I’m just… wondering if the whole punishment and degradation thing had anything to do with your, uh, upbringing.”
“No!” He answers a little too quickly, and questions himself. “I mean… I don’t think so. Wait, do you think it was…?”
“I mean, who knows, maybe you were called into the headmaster’s office one too many times…” Y/N side-eyes him as she drinks.
“Ew, that’s gross!” he makes a face, and he rolls onto his back laughing in feigned disgust.
They inch closer together like gravity, and soon they’re lying face to face, not quite touching. Almost.
“Okay, okay, okay. How did you get into it?”
“Well, my ex-girlfriend kind of roped me into it,” he chuckles at his own little pun. “We started off easy —some spanking, some light bondage… and then worked our way up.”
Y/N nods in approval. “A woman with great taste. I respect that.”
“She is, yeah. The relationship didn’t work out, but at least I figured out what I liked, right? What I need sometimes…” he trails off.
It quiets down, and she almost doesn’t want to ask. But he meets her gaze, and it’s almost like an invitation. You’ve broken down the walls, no need to get courteous at the door anymore.
“And what’s that?”
“I need to... let go, that’s what I fuckin’ need to do sometimes,” he laughs wryly, “I get super stressed out about work and, you know, keeping things together for press tours and all this, so… getting my ass beat and brought down a few pegs feel grounding somehow. Weird, I know.”
“Not at all,” she reassures him softly. “I mean, shit, it’s what I do for a living.”
“How did you get into it?” Tom turns to her, his smile almost cocky and challenging. It’s infectious, and she can’t help smiling back. 
“Similar story, actually. An ex-girlfriend put me up to it— sweetest little sub, shame it didn’t work out. But she was the one who suggested I do this professionally, actually.”
Y/N has this way of telling so much by saying so little that endlessly amazes him. It takes him a few seconds to even choose what to process first; the fact that she had a girlfriend (which low-key blew up his straight boy mind, in the best way) or that anyone would have that experience with her for the first time and think of sharing it.
He is shocked, baffled, envious, and ultimately, thankful for it all. If it weren’t for that tiny suggestion, he wouldn’t have been here, lying under nothing but the moon and the tree, unveiling the most naked parts of himself with her in every sense but one.
“Well. You’re very good at it,” Tom finally, lamely remarks.
But she closes the gap between his hand and hers, and taps his wrist once. “Thank you.” her eyes bore a piercing gaze, but he can’t seem to meet her halfway just yet.
“I hope it’s not inappropriate of me to say, but… I haven’t stopped thinking about last night.” he toys with the sand under his fingertips, pliant to form yet stubborn to grasp. It’s a bit like this little encounter that way.
She hums, quiet and content. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. If I’m being honest... neither have I.”
He only looks up then. “Really?”
“Yes.” She meets his eye, devoid of mischief— just pure, simple, maybe a little funny truth.
They gravitate closer and closer towards each other, finding it increasingly harder to maintain this space— and for what? When their lips meet, it feels like connecting two missing pieces of the puzzle, and the more they touch, the more they make sense. The more they become one with the earth they’re tethered to and the sky over their heads.
But they’re insatiable. They’ve tasted pure bliss and they crave more, more, more.
Tom just barely pulls away from her sweet lips, his hand cupping her face like he’s afraid she might turn to dust. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
“You’re my client. I shouldn’t…” she leans her forehead against his, nuzzling his nose, even as she says it. She doesn’t want to let go and she knows it.
“I was,” he corrects her. “I mean, I’d hardly be in Bali much anyway, right?”
“Such a smartass,” she rolls her eyes, although she doesn’t fight the smile on the corner of her lips. Or the voice in her head that says, keep going until I’ve run out of reasons not to do this with you.
“I know. I was hoping you’d do something about it?” he pouts and plays up those big brown eyes, and she’s gone.
“Behave, puppy.” she goes in for another kiss, and then—
There’s buzzing in Tom’s pocket.
It’s jarring and sobering and he groans.
“Shit. I’m so sorry. One second.” he picks up the call. “Harry? Yeah, I’m just outside…”
Y/N gets up to give him some space —some room to back out before they go forward with this. Nothing would have happened, and they can go back to their own lives. No harm done. No hard feelings.
But Tom sees her stand up, immediately at a loss of her warmth in his close proximity. Brushing white sand off of her legs, akin to some bronze sculpture of a deity he doesn’t know the name of. The wind blows in her hair and her sundress, and for a moment, the moonlight hits her side profile just right. And there’s just no way he’s leaving her for anything tonight.
Harry’s voice sounds distant and distorted with background noise, and Tom cuts him off immediately. “Listen. We have the morning off, right?”
The younger boy pauses. Then tuts. “It’s that girl, innit?”
Reducing this insanely beautiful and sexy and smart person to just ‘that girl’ feels like an understatement, so Tom just chuckles. “Bro, you have no idea.”
“Ugh, fine. But if you’re late tomorrow, we’re going scuba diving without you,” Harry relents. “Take care. Don’t do anything overly stupid.”
“Bye, mate. Love you.” he hangs up the phone, and gets on his feet to catch up with her.
“Well?” She stands tall, straight, and they both feel her walls building back up to brace for what’s coming next.
“It’s my brothers. They’re going back to the hotel.”
“Oh.”
“Told ‘em to go home.”
“Oh.”
She’s quiet for a moment. Then, as sure as day, she offers her hand,
“Well then. Shall we?”
***
Y/N’s house is a stone’s throw away from the beach, tucked in a quiet street just off of the main road. The wooden gate opens up to a carport, where her silver city car and scooter are parked. Next to it is a small swimming pool against a wall covered in wisteria and climbing jasmine, with one pavilion on either side.
They walk past the first pavilion, a bright and spacious living area that opens right up to the pool. A guitar is propped against the couch, and Tom briefly pictures Y/N serenading herself on slow nights.
“Wow. You have a really nice place,” Tom remarks as she welcomes him into her second pavilion, an eclectically decorated bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pool.
“You sound surprised.” She pulls him in, nuzzling his nose with hers.
“I just didn’t expect it to be so…”
“Not sex dungeon-y?”
He grins just a breath away from her lips, “Kind of?” and closes the gap once again.
Their lips are bound, but they feel untethered. There’s no nosy fan or paparazzi or club policy threatening to interrupt their time together. And God, he wants all the time in the world to worship this girl’s everything.
In that moment, Y/N tugs the halter ties on the back of her neck, and her little sundress falls to the floor. Tom feels it slip through his fingers and then his hands meet her skin. Soft. Warm.
He tears himself away, just to take a good look at her. “Shit…”
And there she is. No piece of clothing on her body (not even panties, Christ), and no fucks to give in her confidence or her boldness— and why should she? She’s the most alluring creature he’s ever met. 
“Like what you see?” she hums, backing him up until he’s sat on the edge of her bed.
He forgets how to use his voice for a moment, and just nods dumbly.
She doesn’t hide her amused, enamored laugh when she lets him pull her into bed. Nor the happy sighs when he peppers kisses down her neck. All over her soft chest.
“Can I… Just wanna—” he nips at her diamond-hard nipple and she moans at the sharp sensation. 
“What do you want, puppy?” she lazily runs her fingers through his messy curls.
“I love it when you call me that…” he groans, moving onto her other nipple —gentler somehow, like he’s thinking. “Wanna… fuck, I wanna taste you. Please?”
She’s definitely just as wound up as she is, yet still she can’t resist teasing him. “Oh? Have you been thinking about it since last night?”
“Fuck yeah I have. I didn’t— fuck…” he feels her thigh rubbing at his stiff cock through his pants and he nearly blacks out. “Kept thinking if you were wet when you were punishing me. Wanted to eat you out as a thank you.”
She bites her lower lip. “I’ll let you in on two things.”
He perks up, paying good attention even in his state of arousal.
“One... I was wet since you crawled over to me,” she whispers in his ear, and feels the shiver running down his spine. “And two… I wouldn’t mind that delayed gratification.”
And with that, Tom’s eyes turn pitch black as he slithers down between her legs. He spreads her thighs and dives right in— burying his face in her wet pussy.
“Holy fuck…” Y/N gapes, his mouth flooding her senses in the best ways imaginable.
And in all honesty, she has imagined how Tom eats her out a lot. She imagines him soft and tender, maybe a bit shy, but definitely eager to please— but not like this. All pussy drunk and ravenous and shameless in sucking her clit and fucking her with his tongue. Too out of it to even ask for permission like he usually does. The only thing coming out of his mouth is just muffled groans as he devours her. 
And fuck, does he devour her well.
His ministrations make her clench around nothing, and she’s fully ready to get bossy. But before she even makes a sound, she feels a finger slipping inside, and another. Long. Skillful. Beckoning her closer to orgasm.
“Yes, ohmygod. Like that, just like that…” Y/N rambles on as he strokes that spot inside her.
He curls and curls his fingers in as she falls apart, and he kisses her clit for good measure. She feels her pulse under his mouth and then everything else blurs into a haze of pleasure.
But then he doesn’t stop. He continues laving at her clit and slobbering on her weeping cunt for every drop of her arousal, pumping it in with his digits, and it sends her shaking again. 
“Baby…” she gasps, pulling his hair like it’s the hardest thing to do, “Slow down.”
He wills himself to unlatch from her pussy, but even then, he still kisses down her inner thigh. “You taste so good. Wanna make you feel so good forever, too.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” she smiles, “But what about you, huh?”
“Don’t care,” he murmurs into her skin.
But she pulls him up so he’s hovering on top of her. Chin glistening with her juices, hair sticking out in all directions, lips sucking his own wet fingers clean… he’s the prettiest little thing she’s ever seen.
“But I do.” Y/N’s hand traverses down his body, feeling his stiff cock painfully strain against his pants. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about your cock all night. You’re not gonna deprive me of that, are you?”
He vehemently shakes his head.
“Then take these off and get over here.” she sends him off with a cheeky smack in the ass, and Tom gets out of his remaining clothes even faster than last night.
He sidles up next to her and she wastes no time kissing him, tasting herself on his tongue. 
“Fuck…”
“What is it?” she wraps her hand around his hard length, firm but not too tight.
He swallows. “Wanna be inside you. Wanna— shit— wanna make you feel so good.”
He’s so gone for her pussy, and she would tease him if she didn’t find it so fucking endearing. “Go on, then.”
Tom stops, like he’s not sure he heard it right. But she puts his cock between her legs, teasing her own clit with his tip, his arousal melding with hers, and he nearly loses his mind.
“Go on. Make me feel good, puppy.”
She kisses him one last time in agreement, in challenge, and something snaps within him. He props himself up, hovering on top of her as he lines his cock into her opening. So warm, so inviting. So…
Right.
There’s no words. No games. Just the overwhelming feeling of warmth and fullness and familiar body ache that takes their breath away. He fits her so perfectly —filling her and stretching her like she’s never felt before, she can’t imagine it getting any better than this.
Until he draws back and plunges himself in again, and she realizes… it does.
Tom feels like he’s possessed. Driven by blind, searing lust that just keeps burning and burning. He can’t get enough of how breathtaking she looks writhing in pleasure. Can’t get over how amazing she feels around his fingers and his cock and his body. Knowing that he’s serving his Mistress well.
And Y/N knows that, too. She makes a mental note to reward him with lots of kisses and more, but that comes later. Now… now she’d just sit back and enjoy how pretty he is, with sweat-damp curls framing his boyishly handsome face. His mouth hangs open, making way for those gorgeous moans. Lean hips rutting against hers, every thrust driving pleasure home to her.
She traces her hand along his jawline, admiring his profile from underneath him.
“So pretty— so good for me…” her thumb caresses his lower lip. 
“All for you,” he breathes out, taking it in his mouth and sucking on it.
And as she gazes at his sunken cheeks, she fantasizes about him sucking on her strap-on before she returns the favor (another mental note she makes).
She finds her clit with her wetted finger, but he stops her.
“Wait. May I?” He looks at her with pleading eyes, kissing her wrist tenderly. “Please?”
Honestly, who is she to refuse such a request? She nods with a breathless chuckle, edging closer to her high as he draws patterns on her swollen bud.
Her mind is hazy with orgasm, but she has another idea. Her hand moves up his thigh, towards the swell of his ass, and she doesn’t miss how his breath hitches at the touch.
“May I?” she asks, trailing over the line of his backside.
He groans, eyes shuttering closed. “Yes,” he barely utters.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, please.”
“Yes, please… what?” Her nails are digging into his soft flesh, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t come right then and there.
Instead, he drops his head onto the crook of her neck. Mouth greedy on her skin, hands and hips picking up pace. Y/N strikes his ass once, quick and sharp and hard, and he blurts out,
“Yespleasemistress, Christ!”
The next thing he knows, her deft hand is splitting his cheeks and finds his taut ring of muscles and nothing else matters. Just their hands, stroking and coaxing each other, as they bring themselves closer. Towards each other.
Towards bliss.
Y/N finds Tom getting dangerously close, and captures him in a searing kiss. “Come for me, Tommy.”
He bursts into a nothingness of pleasure with her name on his mouth, and with that, she follows him into beautiful agony. Feeling full and whole and happy.
They lie there for God knows how long. There are no words; just lazy kisses and labored breaths, and bodies melded together. Y/N strokes Tom’s hair, his head resting on her chest, listening to her steadying heartbeat. Both of them trying not to count the hours until the sun rises and this encounter has to end.
If it ever does.
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olderthannetfic · 5 months ago
Note
Hi! Long-time lurker here! Your blog is honestly a breath of fresh air for me, and I always feel so supported (and vindicated) reading your stuff, both about fandom and about sexuality. Thank you for taking the time to run it!
I have a take (vent?) about antis because I’m in a really weird position relative to them, and I apologize in advance for the length.
Like, the only children in need of protecting I’ve ever seen online are the antis themselves (and mostly in need of protecting FROM themselves). I honestly cannot comprehend how anyone can be so viscerally terrified and indignant about everything all the time. And I used to think they’d calm down at least when they find something they enjoy, but God was I wrong.
I ended up writing the most popular (by far) T-rated fic in my anti-infested fandom. It’s escapist sunshine-and-rainbows, everyone-gets-along, people-are-sometimes-not-just-giant-bag-of-dicks multichap fluff. And so half the antis are camping in my comment section. I had to turn on comment moderation because of the bizarre shit I get. Some of the highlights are:
- 200+ word comment which is just bashing other fic authors. Not a word about my fic. Just bashing M and E and darkfic writers, usernames and all. (Some are my discord friends. Some I'd never heard of.)
- Telling me all the ways in which my fic is “healthier” than those other fics that I don’t even know of?
- Multiple comments telling me how “terrified” and “borderline traumatic” it was when they thought I was about to start writing “smut” in that one chapter. (Like helllooo if smut traumatizes you, maybe stay away from the smut dispensary website? Or even better, seek help? You have much bigger problems than my fic.)
- Three different people informing me that it was “disgusting” what I implied with that one throwaway joke - the implication being that the character had a one-night stand with someone before they met the love of their life.
- One that just said how they thought this was going to be incest (Why would you think that right off the bat!?!?!? In a properly tagged fic?) and proceeded to tell me how incest is bad.
- Bashing my beta reader because they’re a very well-known kink writer (hellooooo that’s the person who helped me write the fic you claim to like?? And who I’ve known for years?)
- Forbidding me to link my beta reader's ao3 profile and even thank them in my fics because “someone might click it expecting more of the same and find their disgusting shit instead” and I’m “popularizing them” (Wut. Their monsterfucking tentacle porn fics are more popular than mine anyway.)
- At least one commenter who has tried to bully my (all-adult) discord server friends for writing stuff they don’t like.
And the overall tone of a lot of the more passable comments is just so… desperate and frantic and eager to tell me how morally correct my fic is? Or I don’t know, to be seen doing it? I don’t want that, and I don’t know how to tell them how uncomfortable all that makes me. I don’t think they really even like my stupid fic, they just like moral outrage and enjoy showing what an unproblematic fic they support. It gives me hives. I love reading the “problematic” stuff they hate so! I love it! I just suck at writing it!
I didn’t write this fic because I wanted it to be “moral,” I did it because I work with people and I live in a multigenerational household and for me, escapism is sitting all alone in a quiet room in front of a screen for some time and imagining a world in which people are different from what I have to put up with all day.
On top of that, most of my anti posse seem to be teens and very young adults, and they clearly assume so am I. (Why, I have no idea.) Some day soon I’m afraid I’ll say something to give away my age and get crucified for god knows what. So I just keep walking on eggshells.
Like, I get being unhappy when you see something you hate, but if you keep fixating solely on that even when you encounter something you claim to like… then you DO have a problem and you ARE the child that needs protecting. I’m sorry that the adults in your offline life failed you so, so badly, and I wish I could help, but I can’t, and even if I could, you'd dox me if I tried.
So yeah, that’s where I am with antis. So sorry for the endless vent in your inbox, I just don’t have any anonymous space left where I could get this stuff off my chest. I honestly don’t know where those people get the energy, I’m tired just looking at them.
--
Monsterfucking tentacle porn fics, you say...
What? I was listening! I swear!
No, but for real, this is a common problem, and that kind of reader will always assume you're similar to them until they see direct evidence otherwise. I too pity them and am concerned by their obvious issues. That cannot be a fun way to go through life.
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jwnchstr · 7 months ago
Text
Through the Years
summary: daniel ricciardo having a crush on you ever since 2014.
warning: fluffy, safe love. might contain grammatical errors because no proof-reading.
characters: daniel ricciardo x you
other fics masterlist | f1 masterlist
*  *  *
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     2014
     the year when you met daniel ricciardo when he started driving for red bull. despite being new, he was already hot in the red bull team. though that’s not the reason why you, a professional F1 photographer, had to commercially take pictures of him.
     he was scheduled to do a commercial filming that day and you’re one of the crews who was involved for the filming and photoshooting. you’re the only girl in your team and the new red bull driver couldn’t keep his eyes off you.
     he instantly got a big crush on you as soon as he saw you in the photoshooting room and continues to flirt with you throughout the project that took around a week to finish. being young and energetic, daniel was not shy to show his interest towards you and was determine to make you like him the way he did to you. the laugh, the snide remarks, the side look. he certainly doesn’t care what people think about him.
     but not thinking about relationship that time, you ignored daniel.
*  *  *
     2016
     he was still driving for red bull and has got several wins and scored tons of miraculous points. his team was so proud of him and celebrate him every time he’s got the podium. and you’re there to witness their smiles of victories.
     and not just daniel, but you hardly photographed every driver and teammember being sad or brokendown. they’re so well-trained to hide them and you and other photographers respect the boundries.
     during a press conference in monza, you and your journalist were assigned to be there. you were tasked to ask as many questions as you can, get as many information as you can, take as many pictures as you can from the drivers for your website. for sure, as soon as daniel noticed you there, he couldn’t stop looking at your direction.
     and for some reason, he was extra funny and extra energetic in the press room. he smiles and laughs a lot that even his fellow drivers noticed it.
     “daniel seems a lot more funnier, have you noticed?” lewis, sitting in the middle commented on him. verstappen on his other side nodded in agreement. “i don’t think that has got to do only with the winning.”
     daniel didn’t deny it, but good thing he wasn’t being perfectly honest about his feelings as well. you definitely did not want the attention from these people. you’ve been working in this industry that long to know that these are the least trusted people.
     then, it was as if daniel was waiting for the moment when the host picked your journalist to ask him a question. you remember your journalist asked a short question that required a short and simple answer. lewis and max were being good kids, answered the questions short and firm. until it’s daniel’s turn to answer.
     “thank you. and please tell the woman beside you that she’s pretty,” he ended his answer. 
     there was a choir deep of laughters in the press room. as tons of pairs of eyes turning to your direction, your cheeks turning pink. it took a million ounce of energy to make yourself stay put inside the press room instead of hiding yourself outside.
     “i see someone is smitten by you,” your jounalist commented. a side look and a mischievous smile planted on her face.
     “shut up.”
     the press conference continued as normal as it can be aside from the drivers making jokes on the medias and on the race. they were good towards one another, but fans and the medias love to twist things up. you were relieved when daniel try to flirt with you in the conference room after that. however, as soon as he met you outside, the flirty daniel returned.
     “you can ignore me now, but give me five more years.”
     “what’s in five years?”
     “i’m going to get you in five years,” he said before leaving for red bull motorhome with his teammate.
*  *  *
     2017
     you’ve been ignoring him for three years now. oh, how time flies so fast. though not that you’re counting on it. you only realise that it’s been three years since you met daniel ricciardo because it’s also been three years since you’re working as F1 professional photographer. indeed, the day you met daniel, the day daniel started his career as red bull driver, was also your first day as F1 photographer.
     by this far, you’ve met many friends and have become friends to most of the F1 crews and other F1 photographers. other journalists who are involved with F1 are also your good friends since you’re working in the same line. taking pictures and sell pictures, and attracting fans and attracting more people to be F1 fans are your job.
     you have to admit that 2017 was kind of one of your best years. you made a lot of money with your pictures. you attracted new young fans with your pictures. you photoraphed a lot more backstage scenes and that might be the biggest factor with the money you make that year.
     wait, maybe not. maybe photographing the drivers and their partners is the biggest factor with the money you made that year. the couple photos that include daniel with his girlfriend. he’s the funniest guy on the grid. of course, he has a lot of fans and they’re desperate to know daniel’s partner.
     indeed, daniel got himself a girlfriend in 2017. as he should, though. he’s only wasting his time chasing after you when it’s obvious that you’re not looking for a relationship right now. he gets less flirty with you, respects his girlfriend, big time. though both of you still have a decent conversation from time to time.
*  *  *
     2018
     you’re still in your best year, but not for daniel. this is where everything started to fall apart for daniel. his career with red bull started to shake. everyone was putting a big pressure on his shoulders, pushing for remarkable scores and wins, but he’s just driven apart. to top it all, it’s the year where he broke up with his girlfriend.
     it might be the end of his relationship with his girlfriend, but it’s the start of friendship between you two. you don’t know how, but when daniel seek for your advise how to move on, though you’re clueless with this thing as you were never in a relationship before, you agreed to help.
     on summer break, you proposed a vacation. instead of going back hometown, you suggested a middle-class vacation that includes economy seats on the plane, staying at hostels with other trevelers instead of staying in the private suite, discovering new places by instinct instead of a tourguide. daniel was quite scared to do them knowing how popular he is.
     “c’mon. you wanted to move on and getting healed. i promise no one knows you in prague.”
     “prague? y/n, we’ve got only a few weeks for summer break. think i better sit with my mum and dad at home.”
     this girl broke his heart that bad, huh? you thought yourself. seeing him not smiling and being serious most of the times make you realised how daniel loved his ex-girlfriend so much.
     “if you’re too worried, you can bring michael. and your parents, too.”
     daniel was quiet for a few seconds, though at last, he agreed to do what you suggested. that night, you excitedly booked two return tickets, planned and drafted an itinerary for your vacation, booked some rides and tours in prague.
     with the day approaching, daniel was quite not being himself. one day he was excited to go, asking you to accompany him to shop for new clothes for the vacation. so much like an ordinary person going to a european trip after a year of working hard and saving up. the next day was fidgeting and doubting and afraid that he’ll ruin the vacation.
     “so what if you ruin the vacation? we can try again until you’re totally healed. i’ll always be there for you, dan.”
*  *  *
     2018, after a few months
     the race was back and you’re in monaco. monaco is just as fun and exciting as what other people describe it. but it’s not only about the race, though. it’s the weather. the culture. the place itself. everything about monaco screams party!
     daniel regained his motivation after the vacation, thanks to you. he enjoyed prague as much as you. and being a normal treveler, traveling normally as not-celebrity-ly, was refreshing for him. though both of you knew that there were still people who recognise him in prague, but they decided to ignore him. and that’s what he likes the most.
     he tried to do his best in monaco and won fifth place for red bull while his teammate won the podium. but what does he care? he just got back from one of the best vacation ever with his best friend. he came back winning fifth. he’s most probably the happiest man alive right now. like he couldn’t ask for anything more.
     he tried to look for you after the race, but you’re out there somewhere too far to reach because you’re busy taking pictures of people on the podium and the teams who’ve won. something inside daniel stirred.
     he almost forgot that he has a huge crush on you back then.
     until now.
* * *
     2019
     you're probably lying if you said you didn't notice how daniel was trying to avoid you because, though this sounds embarrassing as you're trying to continue be daniel's friend after the vacation in prague and all those times to help him move on from his ex-girlfriend. now, after all those effort, daniel is trying to push you away?
     daniel is good guy and you know that by heart. after seeing him that close, you know something isn’t right.
     he's less likely to come and look for after races like how he used to. he went for the crews or his coach michael instead. at first, you thought he was merely giving you and your work some time together before you reunited with him, but after being rejected a few times when you tried to hang out with him, you have to be honest that you’re hurt.
     some times, he was mean to you, though he hated doing that to you. he'll tell you to bugger off while he's spending his time with michael and his friends after work. he rarely asks you to join him for lunch in the canteen anymore. when you visited him at him at his bus, he’ll quickly lock himself in his bus and ignore you.
     he doesn't ask you to take pictures of him anymore. until michael came to you and explain to you what's actually happening because michael hates seeing you getting hurt.
     since then, you took a step back. you avoided daniel just as much as daniel avoiding you. until when daniel realised that being a part hurts him more. later that year, he came to apologise, though still not expressing his feelings at all. even if he did, you're not sure how to react. but right now, you think it's enough to be back as friends.
*  *  *
     2021
     daniel had gotten matured throughout his career in F1. in 2014, when he was still a fresh meat, he tried everything to get what he wants. he tried the hardest to get you. he’s not scared to show his emotion. he’s almost not scared to voice out his thoughts.
     but daniel had also gone through many ups and down in his F1 career, though he’s still that funniest guy on the grid, but he’s less likely to show interest towards anything now. whenever the medias started to ask personal questions, he’ll always streer the conversation away, though still doesn’t care if people are going to think that he’s being rude.
     this also happens to him towards you. while you’re still the you he once knew, but as daniel mature, you realise how quiet he’s become behind the scene despite what he shows on scene. also how good-looking he’s become since you first met him in 2014. and how honest he’s become towards you.
     “let’s get some dinner after the race,” daniel proposed while both of you were just chilling at his bus.
     “we still have free food in the F1 hospitality, daniel. why waste money on it?” you replied as you watched people come and go around the paddock. you should be taking their pictures, showing the fans what happened after races, but not right now. now, you just want to sit with your friend and talk about silly things.
     daniel chuckled. “you have bulked of money and yet here you are thinking that it’s wasting money to buy food when there’s free food in the canteen. c’mon. let’s just chill tomorrow.”
     “you haven’t won to chill tomorrow, dan.”
     “i don’t about care the race. i just want to spend the time with you.”
     now, you hung out with daniel here and there between races and your off-days. and you were always casually asking if he’d taken his dinner or lunch so you’ll ask if he wants to join. but this. why does this sound different?
     “by having... dinner?” you pulled a face.
     “are you this clueless every time your supervisor delegating a task?” he laughed. “okay, let me rephrase that. let’s go on a date after the race. i saw this nice restaurant yesterday on my way back to my hotel. thought of you bringing you there.”
     “you’re asking me out on a date? are you serious?”
     “2016. after the press conference in monza. remember when i said i’m going to get you in five years?”
     you heart drummed in your chest. you have forgotten about it until he mentioned. “uh-huh?”
     daniel smiled. “well, this is me keeping my promise.”
*  *  *
     you weren’t really paying an attention on daniel ricciardo. sure, you knew that he had a big crush on you. he made sure you know. he showed it. he said it. but not liking the attention and not wanting a relationship, to ignored him.
     you might sound like a villain, but when he finally found a girl, you’re quite happy. because it means less attention from mr. ricciardo. however, you’ve got to say that the vacation with daniel to prague changed everything.
     you saw how funny and how intelligent he was up close. you saw how responsible he was. his thinking skills and how he could work under pressure was undeniably amazing. you learned his perks and learned how to accept him how he is.
     you’ve been single for all your life because your job requires you to travel a lot so finding love was not on your priority list, until you realise how matured daniel has become. also how caring he acts towards you when no other humans at the paddock cared enough about you.
     maybe that’s the reason why you opened up your heart for him and agreed to have a date with him that night after the race.
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teuthisdreams · a month ago
Text
My Own Brief Dalliance with Loab
Content warning for disturbing imagery, unreality, body horror
There is a ghost in the machine-
Okay, that makes it sound very spooky. There is an image of a lady with very red cheeks and wrinkled, sallowed face, found by @supercomposite in the depths of exploring negative prompts - asking the computer what the opposite of something is.
And she seems to live next to pictures of gore and body horror and blood.
Cite her image as an image prompt Midjourney version 1, and while most image prompts only merely inspire the resulting output, this lady's recognisable features will recur - and will often bring blood and gore with her.
And maybe she disappears, but reiterating and playing with the descendant images- she can reappear, suddenly. Her name comes from a random jumble of letters in one of the original pictures.
The following links have uncensored images of this lady and her effects, and warnings for unreality, disturbing imagery, body horror and so on do apply: here is the twitter thread with some click-to views and here is a tumblr post.
Now, the initial images of her, apart from the weird fur clump and the fleshy fingers, don't seem so scary to me. There are people out there with rosacea and other features similar to hers, and the people who have experimented with her are drawn to the celebration of her macabre effects more so than to mock her appearance.
If you are perturbed, I suggest thinking of her as the Final Pam from the McElroy's Monster Factory.
She's a coincidence who just happens to live next to Gore Street in Negative Weight Town, and under the cut, I'll show you my very brief dance with Loab, because I thought she could do with a swim.
Warnings for, again, body horror, unreality, disturbing images, eyes, mutilation, etc, under the cut.
This is a celebration of the horrific!
Let me reiterate the warning, because this has freaked out a lot of people and tradcaths on Twitter, and I don't find her that freaky but I believe other people might, so, again, I say:
body horror, unreality, disturbing images
But also I want to reiterate that I don't think the original Loab pictures are that bad! She is just a lovely lady who has an interesting address in latent space and an interesting impact on image generation.
So I married a picture of the ocean that I generated earlier for a different reason
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Underwater, dark sharklike shadows, deep blue water, thalassophobia, ocean depths, looking up, dark colours, deeps, aesthetic, elegant, hyper realistic, elegant, intricate, glass paint, overglaze, hyper detailed, smooth, sharp focus, illustration, trending on artstation, oil painting by John Constable and J M W Turner and Joseph Wright of Derby, diffuse lighting
To Loab (who, I reiterate, was found by @supercomposite by looking for the opposite of Marlon Brando, and then the opposite of the opposite.)
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Yes, you can just stick this image in Midjourney's text prompt to explore the latent space with Loab yourself! Let her take your hand, though I suggest using --version 1 for the greater effect.
So, let us see what she has brought me to:
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She was a little unwilling to go for a swim, but I managed to coax her into the water.
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So then I decided that she needed a beach vacation, and looked on Unsplash the public domain website to find a lovely beach!
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She did not want to go to the beach.
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Looks like she wanted to go to the hotel from the Shining instead?
But combining Drowned Loab from above with the beach tempted her a little to play along
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But look, I'm mostly in the gay boats trade here on teuthisdreams dot tumblr dot com, and I wanted to see her opinion on rainbow boats
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A beautiful painting of 🏳️‍⚧️🏴‍☠️🏳️‍🌈⛵🌅 by rhads and Dan Mumford and Montague Dawson and Leonid Afremov, digital art, volumetric lighting, artstation::3 ⚓🌊⛈️ ::1
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She seems a little willing to get into the piratical dramatic mood, at least!
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No joke, the sort of blind mask and the hair in the wind is actually really cool.
So I take this image, and I take a stained glass sailing ship
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A ship with stained glass sails, from this post
And I add in the original Loab
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And I accidentally run this on Midjourney Version 3, which dilutes the Loab slightly, but damn that last one, I love her
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So I run this again on the right version
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and find variations of that last one
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She appears to be trying to hold the Loss meme in that first one
And here is where I stop.
But I'll tell you that experimenting with Loab truly demystified her. She's a point in "latent space", the land of vectors of the neural network where the connections and knowledge of the AI lives, and she's far away from the usual positive prompting.
She lives in the opposite of the opposite. Here is a sensible if not long twitter thread talking about her from a mathematical point of view, for the curious.
Some people on Twitter call her a demon, a fairy, a contagious meme, or even worse, a creepypasta or made up Alternate Reality Game. Some draw comparisons between her name and that of the demon Ba'al, though I submit that if she had been named after a different mishmash of random letters, she'd have been linked to a different demon instead, and there are a lot of demons in the Ars Goetia.
To me, she's just a nice lady who lives next to interesting horror and grotesquerie, a quirk of statistics transformed by mathematics. While I do enjoy horror, I won't visit her too much because my overriding interest in boats and boat history distracts me, but she is a lovely hostess for the grotesque.
Perhaps I'll pay her more of a visit closer to Halloween!
And if you do decide to draw inspiration from her too, I encourage you heartily to do so!
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headspace-hotel · a year ago
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What changed for me was that I stopped seeing the sacred as elusive and fragile, suited only to carefully maintained habitats.
The Christian viewpoint of sex as a sacred thing means it is weighted with devastating meaning; it carries the impact of losing something forever, of altering oneself permanently for good or for ruin. From this point of view, sex is a good thing, a holy thing, but if not done in the right way, with the right person, at the right time, its holiness shatters. It is because it is sacred that experiencing it imperfectly is so bad and profane (and so easy to do).
i have had many friends with a Christian upbringing who think this way. Their expectations about sex are often very unrealistically high, and at the same time, I feel that they deserve to feel more comfortable with their mental concept of sex.
but this post isn’t about sex, not really; it’s about good things and sacred things and holy things and how we’re taught that they are so easy to break. the body is a temple, therefore implicitly profane when treated wrongly, when adorned wrongly, when shared without the proper rites.
why do we think that sacredness, especially the kind of sacredness that relates to the body, is so easily destroyed? the body is remarkable for its resilience, its capacity to care for the spirit that lives in it and to close wounds and to carry scars. I think a scarred body is sacred. I think a tattoo that has no particular special meaning is sacred.
if we believe in the sacredness of life, perhaps we should believe in the endless, tenacious resilience and adaptability of the sacred.
I still think that sex is sacred. I think that handmade blankets are sacred, that meals cooked by people who love you are sacred, that messages scribbled on desks are sacred, and that dandelions growing out of cracks in the sidewalk are sacred too. I think all of our misshapen attempts to love are sacred.
The fact is that no set of moral rules about sex has ever been able to create love, or even preserve it. this is what led me to these thoughts—purity culture wishes to “preserve the sanctity of” sex, but abuse, controlling relationships, sexual trauma, those terrible things are not treated with the same solemnity. Sex before marriage is a deep, corrupting transgression, but it seems no fundamentalist man who has sexually coerced his wife or criticized her body has felt the chill of wild fear from realizing you have desecrated something holy.
and if we thought about this differently, we would realize how it could be, perhaps should be. that a man tearing down his lover’s self esteem or trying to exercise control over her body does not just “fall short” of his obligation to her, he profanes her. When invited into intimacy with her, he is stepping onto holy ground, and when he hurts or coerces her, he is spitting in God’s face.
but no. the thinking of purity culture treats the sanctity of sex as something that must be created under precise circumstances, a specific act that must be done Correctly, rather than a consequence of something deeply sacrosanct about loving and closeness or maybe even about bodies or touch or being alive and experiencing.
it got me thinking about what are the common qualities of things I think are sacred? They are all very ephemeral, very hard to describe. Someone said on this website that tearing apart a loaf of warm bread with your hands is sacred, and I agree. I think certain acts feel like holy rituals not because they are repeated regularly, done in a certain way, or connected to religion, but because they are clear, vivid reminders of being alive in a world where you care and are cared for.
I don’t think ritual should mean symbolism and detachment. I think ritual is an act of maintenance. The maintenance of love or something loved.
What is that quote about how love has to be made and remade every day? It’s like that. I think ritual, love, and bread are very interconnected. Bread was one of Jesus’s favorite metaphors. This is one of those things that makes it difficult to completely turn my back on the Christian faith. It has been corrupted completely in the modern church, but Christian rituals originate mostly as basic acts of care.
Of course we’ve lost a lot of things. One thing we’ve lost—and we probably didn’t notice what we were losing—is the sensuality of ritual, like how communion typically no longer involves tearing apart a warm loaf of bread and instead tiny cups of wine and individualized crackers. We’ve also lost the ability to truly contemplate that Communion is supposed to be eating the flesh of God, who is feeding himself to us. There is no good way to make that feel impersonal and detached and not-intimate. As an artist I never found much inspiration in comparing cannibalism to sex, but I find it resonant to do something worse, which is to compare Communion to both of those things. “Isn’t it weird that Christians are basically cannibalizing God” is actually quite a bit closer to the point than probably anything evangelicals have said about it, because it is in fact very weird. You are eating God, but you are tearing him apart in your hands and he is warm.
The symbolism is not abstract and ephemeral. Eating is an act of love toward the body. An act of being alive in an animal, mammal sort of way. In this light the fundamentalist Christian attitude toward sex comes into a difficult clash with the rest of the basic components of the faith. Under purity culture, remaining “pure” before marriage, “keeping” sex sacred, involves a psychologically damaging level of detachment from the physical wants and needs of the body—not only can you not have sex, you can barely permit yourself to think about it, or to explore and get to know your own body.
This is very particularly harmful toward women, of course, for whom deep-seated anxiety and lack of knowledge about one’s own body is likely to make sex un-enjoyable at best and painful at worst. But when you tell teenagers that they cannot masturbate, you are telling them that their lover must figure out what forms of touch are pleasurable before they themselves can. Not only is this just depressingly inefficient, and vaguely traumatizing in its implications, it is so much the opposite of what intimacy is that the words to explain it barely exist.
Purity culture, in accepting exclusivity as the primary characteristic of “sacred” sexuality, cannot escape seeing bodies as property and sex as territorial, related to ownership. Though it would deny that “your body is meant for sexual intimacy with one person under one circumstance” implies ownership, it shows intimacy outside of that person and circumstance as denying them something.
Sex and sexual pleasure is referred to with language that implies it is a resource. The language of “sharing” or “giving away” intimacy, or of “saving” it, is complete nonsense when you try to apply it to anything else. How can you “save” or “give away” being hugged by your friends, or staying up late with them laughing?
I once sat with a friend in a Waffle House at 10pm, when the place was totally empty and we could talk freely with the lady behind the counter. And this is, interestingly enough, one of those experiences that I identify as “sacred” but can’t explain why. Waffles are sweet and dense and soaked in butter, and the world outside is icy and dark, and the lady behind the counter sends me home with an extra tall cup of orange juice, for free.
Have I “spent” that experience, like currency, by experiencing it? Have I lost something by having had it, in the same way that someone “loses” their virginity, supposedly? I know for sure that whatever is gone now that the experience is over was something I never “had” in the first place, and none of us was “giving” anything to anyone else (even though I was given the orange juice)—again, because what part of it did any of us firmly own?
When something is sacred, even if you’re very clearly doing something for someone else, it is something you or you both or you all are simply there for, like being caught outside in a thunderstorm.
Teaching that an orgasm not given to you by your future life-partner is somehow stolen from them really denigrates the orgasm. And teaching that enjoying (or really, knowing anything about) your body on your own is denying something from your future life partner is nonsense.
“Virginity” is an idea with a very gendered history, typically, a woman “loses” her virginity” to a man, not the other way around. It is, of course, a nonsense concept; there are jokes about what happens to a person’s virginity when it is “lost,” but the jokes actually raise very good questions. If the person you are having sex with “takes” your virginity, that should mean they now have it, and the total number of virginities in the world never increases or decreases relative to population. But instead, they just disappear. Not only is it sexist, it’s vaguely reminiscent of the stock market.
The whole idea of the desire to have a say or involvement in your partner’s entire experience of pleasure and intimate love is frankly revolting to me now. If I viewed my partner as tainted because I was not the first to have sex with him, I would have to believe that whatever he can share with me is somehow finite. I would have to view that intimacy as a linear transaction. I would have to view sexual intimacy as a quantity of thing rather than an experience, and the feelings my lover’s body can feel as basically possessions.
How could I claim exclusive ownership of my future lover’s pleasure, their enjoyment and understanding of their physical body, their experience of love, their desire for love? Why the hell would I want to do that? Recognizing that they are a whole person means realizing I can’t “have” or “possess” any of them. That would—ironically enough—be treating my lover as an object.
The conclusion is this: the viewpoint of sex that supposedly preserves its sacredness does the opposite by treating it as a limited, transactional quantity contained within specific acts, and as something that is valuable based on its technical adherence to rules.
Sex is supposed to say something about our relationship with God, a living symbol of how God loves humans, is what they will say—but I can think of nothing more damning than trying to imagine what idea of God someone would get if all they had was the way Christians talk about sex.
They would conclude that there isn’t very much of God to go around, and that God is only interested in a handful of people who do everything right. God is fragile as spun glass and to even approach him should be frightening, should make you question your worthiness, because you might shatter the only connection with God you will ever have into a million pieces if you touch him wrong.
I do not believe that. I have no answers, only questions, but my major break away from the mainstream Christian faith must have come when I saw sacredness as existing in things that grow back and things that scar and heal and things that bloom again, rather than in things that break once.
Love is not something that breaks once. You are not something that breaks once. You are a dandelion in sidewalk cracks that will relentlessly grow back, and so is the love that is out there, coming to us ineffably in the shape of orgasms, waffles, and thunderstorms and leaving us changed, but not less.
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