#(I just think it's not an easy club to get into and membership has to be earned somehow or something like that)

[cfffrk]

+ little bonus

I think I accidentally created their son instead of Jeeves when I was drawing the first frame😭

[goldsainz]

# DREW STARKEY — ACTORS ON ACTORS !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ drew and you participate in variety’s “actors on actors” series.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ cursing, talking about nude scenes, probably inaccurate acting experiences.

003. NOTE !

✯ sorry to all the actors i stole roles from😭 also zendaya is used as a face claim for the social media but the writing is inclusive and has no descriptors of physical appearance… or at least i hope so.

word count : 5,4k (chat i got carried away)

The cozy studio was bathed in warm light, designed almost as if to feel like a welcoming living room. Two plush chairs faced each other, separated by a low coffee table adorned with a few carefully placed books and a small vase of fresh flowers. Everything about the space was crafted to exude intimacy and warmth, inviting open conversation.

Drew Starkey entered the room first, his usual calm confidence mingled with a tinge of nervous energy. He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly and scanned the setup, trying to ground himself in the moment. He was used to being in front of cameras, but this felt different. This wasn’t just about promoting a project or answering rapid-fire questions on a press junket. This was you.

“Hello,” Drew started, a smile gracing his features as he took in the fact that he was sitting right in front of his number one celebrity crush. His hand hovered awkwardly in a small wave, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Hi,” you said back, a giggle falling past your lips when you noticed his sheepish look. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual. Drew cleared his throat, laughing at himself, which made you laugh too. “Sorry, I’m… a little nervous.”

“Oh, don’t be,” you reassured him with a warm smile. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great, thank you. What about you?”

“Pretty good, can’t complain.” A laugh bubbled out of him, and subsequently, you. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made you think he was still pinching himself that this was happening.

The cameras rolled, capturing the easy charm and immediate chemistry between the two of you. 

Drew’s grin widened as he began. “First of all, let me just say—I’m completely starstruck right now. I mean, the way you completely own every role you take on... it’s incredible.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a bashful laugh escaping as you waved off the compliment. “Oh, stop it. You’re making me blush!”

“I’m serious,” he pressed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re like… the blueprint. If I ever get even halfway to where you are, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” you said, your voice teasing but your cheeks undeniably warm. “But thank you, that’s so sweet. And honestly, you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re incredible in Queer. You’ve got this natural charm that just lights up the screen.”

“Natural charm, huh?” He smirked, pretending to preen, which made you laugh again. “I’ll take that.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling. “You should, because it’s true.”

Drew’s gaze softened, the teasing giving way to something more earnest. “That means a lot, really. Especially coming from you. You’re like… Hollywood royalty to many.”

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “To many, huh? And are you part of this many?”

Drew’s eyes widened, and he laughed, a little caught off guard. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve got a lifetime membership to the fan club.”

“Good to know,” you teased, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair with an air of mock superiority. “I’ll have to start charging you membership fees.”

“Totally worth it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh, “So, we’ve both got some things in common, which I think is pretty cool.”

“Like working with Daniel Craig?” he asked.

“Yes! Honestly, I still reminisce about our time on set… he’s genuinely incredible, isn’t he?”

“He is, yeah. I found myself just admiring him and sort of forgetting I had to act too. He’s just… he’s on another level, for sure.”

“Daniel’s a master of his craft… Most of my scenes as Paloma in No Time To Die were with him, and at first I was so nervous because, like, what if I messed up in front of the Daniel Craig?” Drew let out a laugh at your words, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. “But when he noticed I was nervous he reassured me that it was all good. He’s just the best.”

“You’ve worked with so many high-profile actors.” You nod slightly at his words, as if it were the most common thing in the world. “Are you always nervous when meeting them, or was it just a Daniel thing?”

“It wasn’t just Daniel, no, but I think it depends. For example, when I did Oppenheimer with Cillian Murphy, for some reason I felt more relaxed… even though I had some nude scenes with him.”

“Nude scenes just make you connect, don’t they?” he joked, leaning back with a sly grin.

“They do, actually,” you replied, leaning into the banter. “You’d think they’d be worse, but honestly, with the amount of seriousness and concentration they take, it’s like you don’t have time to be nervous.”

“You clearly pulled it off flawlessly,” Drew said with mock solemnity. 

“You did too in Queer.” You compliment him, “I watched it a few days ago, and the chemistry you had with Daniel was just off the charts.”

Drew’s face lit up, a mix of pride and bashfulness crossing his features. “Daniel’s an amazing scene partner. He really made it easy for me to tap into everything.”

“Well, it shows,” you said. “It was such a raw and beautiful performance. I might’ve shed a tear or two.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush,” Drew teased, pointing at you with a playful squint. “But seriously, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Hey, give credit where it’s due,” you shot back with a grin. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel so real. Like when you’re in pain, we’re in pain. When you’re in love, we’re falling right alongside you.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to do with all these compliments. This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, crossing your legs and leaning forward slightly. “Well, I’m glad I could help. But now I’m curious—how did you prepare for a role like that? I mean, it’s so emotionally intense, no?.”

“It was a lot of journaling, a lot of talking with Luca about backstory and motivations,” Drew explained, his tone more thoughtful. “And honestly, I kind of drew from real-life experiences. Not the exact ones, obviously, but just feelings of vulnerability and… wanting to be understood.”

“That’s beautiful,” you said softly, your smile turning tender. “It’s amazing how much of ourselves we pour into these characters.”

“Exactly,” Drew agreed. “And sometimes it’s terrifying, but when it resonates with people, it feels worth it.”

“It definitely resonated with me,” you assured him. “And I’m sure with countless others too.”

“That’s really nice to hear,” he said with a soft smile.

“How was it for you to work with Luca? Because I remember it being one of the highlights of my career.”

Drew’s eyes lit up at the mention of Luca Guadagnino, and he leaned forward slightly, as if the memory itself was a magnet pulling him closer. “Oh, working with Luca was… incredible,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “He’s got this way of creating such a safe, open space on set. It’s almost like he’s not just directing—he’s inviting you into this world he’s building in his head.”

You nodded eagerly, your own memories of working with Luca bringing a nostalgic smile to your face. “I know exactly what you mean. He makes it feel like you’re collaborating on this deeply personal piece of art, rather than just executing someone else’s vision.”

“Exactly!” Drew said, gesturing animatedly. “And he has this way of pulling things out of you that you didn’t even know you had. Like, he’ll ask you one simple question, and suddenly you’re diving into this emotional rabbit hole.”

You laughed, tilting your head in agreement. “He asked me once, ‘What would this character, Maren in my case, dream about?’ and it completely changed how I approached the next scene.”

Drew’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “He asked me the exact same question!”

“No way!” you exclaimed, your laughter spilling out in disbelief. “I love that! It’s honestly such a deceptively simple question, but it opens up so many layers.”

“It really does,” Drew said, chuckling. “And then you’re sitting there like, ‘Okay, now I have to rethink everything I thought I knew about this character.’”

“It’s kind of genius, though,” you added. “He makes you work harder, but not in a way that feels forced. It’s like… he trusts you to figure it out, but he gives you these breadcrumbs to follow.”

“Exactly,” Drew said again, his tone growing softer. “I think that’s why his films feel so intimate, he gets the human part so right.”

You smiled, letting his words settle in the air for a moment. “I think that’s what makes working with him feel like such a privilege. It’s not just about telling a story—it’s about feeling it.”

Drew nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “And those are the moments that stick with you, you know? The ones where you felt something real, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Completely,” you agreed, your voice soft with sincerity. “Those moments are why we do this.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation settling in the cozy studio. Then, Drew broke the quiet with a grin. “Okay, but did Luca make you do those impromptu rehearsals at, like, the crack of dawn?”

“Oh my God, yes!” you burst out, your eyes widening. “I’d just roll out of bed with zero coffee and somehow be expected to pour my soul into a scene.”

Drew laughed, his face lighting up. “Right? It’s like, ‘Good morning, here’s your emotional breakdown for the day.’”

You laughed along with him, the shared experience adding another thread to the easy camaraderie forming between you. “But honestly, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“Same,” Drew said, his expression softening again. “For Luca? Anytime.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, your eyes locking with his for a moment before the warmth of the studio light reminded you both that the cameras were still rolling.

Drew shifted in his seat slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s kind of wild—hearing you talk about all these incredible experiences. You’ve been doing this for so long, and yet it’s like you’re just getting started.”

You tilted your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But yeah, I guess I have been in this industry for most of my life. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

Drew’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s crazy to think about. I didn’t even consider acting until after college. You must’ve been, what, ten? Eleven?”

“Eight, actually,” you corrected with a chuckle. “My first role was in this little indie film. I was basically just the kid who ran around in the background eating ice cream, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

He laughed, clearly amused. “That’s adorable. And now you’re the Hollywood It Girl. No big deal.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your laughter light. “Oh, stop it. But yeah, it’s been a journey. Growing up on sets definitely shaped me, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to have a more ‘normal’ childhood.”

Drew’s smile softened. “That must’ve been such a whirlwind. I can’t even imagine starting that young. I didn’t even think about acting seriously until high school.”

“Oh, I’ve read about that!” You said, your voice lighting up. “You were all about sports growing up, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted with a chuckle. “I was your typical small-town kid—baseball, basketball, you name it. I was convinced I was going to go pro in something, but clearly, that didn’t pan out.”

“Well, I think acting suits you pretty well.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, the real shift happened in high school when I joined a drama class. It was all Samuel Beckett and absurdist plays, which at the time I thought was the coolest thing ever.”

You leaned forward, intrigued. “So that’s what pulled you in? Drama class?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “And then I went to Western Carolina for college. I double-majored in English and theater, thinking, ‘If this acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll at least have a backup plan.’”

“That’s so realistic of you,” you said with a laugh. “Meanwhile, I was ten, telling anyone who’d listen that I was going to win an Oscar one day.”

“And look at you now,” Drew said, gesturing to you with an almost reverent smile. “You made it happen.”

You chuckled, a bit flustered by his admiration. “Well, not quite, just an Oscar nominee for now. But thank you. You know, I think your journey’s pretty incredible too. A double major? That’s no joke. And starting later in the game like you did… it must have felt like a slow burn, but it’s clearly paid off.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Drew said thoughtfully. “It was definitely a slower burn for me. I didn’t land my first real gig until I’d been auditioning for what felt like forever.”

“I think that makes your journey even more special,” you said, your tone sincere. “You came into it with all this life experience and maturity. It shows in your work, you know? There’s this depth to your performances that’s just… rare.”

Drew’s ears turned a little pink, and he laughed softly, glancing down at his hands. “Wow, you’re gonna make me blush over here.”

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “It’s only fair after all the compliments you’ve been throwing my way.”

He looked up, his grin sheepish but warm. “Touché. But seriously, hearing that from someone like you—someone who’s been at this for so long and is so insanely talented—it means a lot.”

“Well,” you replied with a playful tilt of your head, “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mutual fans.”

Drew laughed at that, the sound easy and genuine. “I can live with that.”

The conversation shifted into more comfortable territory as the two of you shared experiences, trading stories about acting and the film industry. Drew, now feeling at ease, leaned forward with renewed interest.

“You know,” he began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I've been thinking about how different TV shows and movies are, especially when it comes to the pacing and character development. Like, in a show, we have to maintain this ongoing energy for the characters over multiple seasons. But with movies, it’s a totally different vibe, right?”

You nodded, understanding immediately where he was going. “It’s definitely a huge shift. With TV, you’re given time to build on a character slowly. Every episode is another chapter, so you can explore new facets of them and keep the audience hooked for longer periods of time. But movies, they’re this intense sprint. You have to get everything across in just two hours or so, but in a way that feels just as layered and satisfying.”

Drew's eyes lit up with excitement, clearly passionate about the topic. "Exactly! You have to balance the action and suspense while still giving the characters these moments of vulnerability. Over multiple seasons, you can really let them grow and change. It's like a slow burn. But when you're doing a movie, you don’t have the luxury of that buildup. It has to be this concentrated emotional punch right from the start.”

“That’s one of the biggest challenges of film, for sure," you agreed. "In a film, every second counts. You can’t afford to waste a moment. But I think what’s also interesting is how both mediums can explore a character’s journey from different angles. TV shows can dive into their backstory in more detail, but movies... they really need to hit those emotional beats and leave an impact without dragging it out."

Drew smiled, clearly engaged in the discussion. “In TV shows you need that perfect balance of suspense, character development, and personal growth. And then, at the end of the season, you drop a huge bombshell that leaves people wanting more.”

You laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking about it. What’s the secret to keeping the audience hooked without losing the depth of your character?”

He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I think it’s about letting the characters evolve with the story. You need to make sure the audience sees the human side of your character, even when they're in these crazy situations. It’s what keeps people invested in the long run.”

“You’ve really got the process figured out,” you said with a smile. “But you’re right—it’s a different rhythm for TV. With a movie, you get to go deep quickly, but with a show, you have to keep it dynamic and varied. And let’s not forget, you need that cliffhanger at the end to make people binge-watch the next season.”

Drew’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re giving away all the secrets! Next thing you know, people will be expecting a cliffhanger every time they watch a movie."

“Well, movies and TV are both art, but they demand different approaches,” you said, “and you’re doing an amazing job balancing both. I’m honestly so excited to see where your career goes next. Both worlds are lucky to have you.”

He chuckled softly, clearly humbled. “Thanks. I think I’m just lucky to be a part of both. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a show that gets people talking for days?”

“Right? You’ve got Outer Banks, which has such a dedicated fanbase, and then movies like Queer that touch people in such a different way. It’s amazing to watch your versatility.”

He leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you. Honestly, your transition from action to more emotional roles is inspiring. I hope I can pull off something even close to what you’ve done with your career.”

Your smile softened, your voice sincere. “Well, you’re already doing it, Drew. You’re already there. It’s not just about the roles—it’s about the heart you put into them. And you’ve definitely got that.”

Drew’s smile faltered for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze softened, as if he were truly reflecting on what you’d said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms but keeping his eyes on you, his expression thoughtful.

“It's crazy, isn't it?” He began, his voice a little quieter now, “The idea of giving so much of yourself to something that feels so... intimate. But when it works, when the audience feels it too, there's nothing like it.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your voice a little quieter now. “That's the real magic, when the audience feels like they know the characters, like they're right there with them. It’s not about the plot twists or the fancy sets—it’s about the emotions that we build and share with them.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “Speaking of emotions, I just saw your new movie, We Live In Time,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s one of those films that stays with you, you know? It’s raw in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s also beautiful. How did you tap into that for Almut?”

Your expression softened as you thought back on the experience. We Live In Time had been a journey—a raw, almost therapeutic one. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, honestly,” you said, leaning back slightly, letting the memory settle in. “I think the hardest part was showing that moment where her whole world shifts. It was such a raw, profound type of emotion I had to channel in order to do justice to the character and her experiences.”

Drew sat back, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “I think that's what makes your career so incredible. You never just play a character. You become them. And you take us with you. Every heartbreak, every triumph, every moment of doubt... we feel it all with you. That's what makes your work so powerful.”

You met his gaze, feeling the depth of the conversation linger between you both. “It’s all about connection, right? Connecting with the character, with the audience, and with the emotions that we all share as humans. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make sense of time, love, and the moments we get.”

Drew smiled, his expression genuine and soft. “Well, you’ve definitely made sense of it for me. We Live In Time—it’s not just a movie. It’s a reminder to cherish what we have. And that, in itself, is something special.”

You smiled back, your heart full as you let the words sink in. “Thank you, Drew. That’s really sweet of you.”

You both shared a comfortable silence for a moment, before Drew broke it with a playful grin. “You know, it’s clear you’ve mastered the art of vulnerability on screen, but I can’t help but wonder—did you ever have moments on set where it was just... impossible to take things seriously?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, absolutely. In fact, as a kid, it was all impossible to be serious,” you admitted, shaking your head at the memory. “I remember this one time during a scene on set when I was probably around 9 or 10. We were supposed to be doing this emotional scene, and I had to cry on cue. But instead of crying, I couldn’t stop giggling. It was a dramatic moment, and my co-star was all serious and trying to get through the scene, but I just... lost it.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Giggling during a dramatic scene? What happened?”

“Well, my director, bless her heart, kept trying to give me these 'serious actor' looks. She was this no-nonsense kind of woman, and she had this way of narrowing her eyes when things weren’t going well. I tried my best to hold it together, but then my co-star—who was way too good at being serious—looked at me and just gave this super intense stare, and that was it. I burst out laughing right in the middle of the take.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “I can just picture that. You were probably trying to hold it together, but it must have been so hard with all that tension in the air.”

“I swear, the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became,” you continued, grinning at the memory. “It was one of those moments where you’re like, 'Why am I even here? I can’t do this.' But somehow, I got through it. The director had to take a deep breath, and we did a few more takes. Eventually, we got it done, but I think we all were on the verge of cracking up the whole time.”

Drew let out a laugh, clearly imagining the scene. “I can’t blame you. I feel like as a kid, you have no filter. Everything feels like a joke, and it’s so hard to be serious when everyone else is trying so hard.”

“You have no idea,” you said, your voice still light. “There were so many times I’d be doing a serious scene, and I’d start thinking about something random, like a certain meme or a funny sound someone made on set—and then, bam, it was game over. I’d be holding in a laugh like my life depended on it.”

Drew smirked, leaning in a little. “I totally feel that. I mean, as an adult, I still have moments where I struggle to keep a straight face. I once had a scene where I was supposed to be super intense, but the prop guy was standing just out of frame, and he made this ridiculous face at me—completely threw me off. I couldn’t stop laughing, and it ended up taking hours to finish the scene because we kept cracking up. Honestly, I think the crew started to get annoyed with us after a while.”

“See?” you said with a grin. “It never really changes. Truthfully, the older you get, the harder it becomes to hold it in. But then you look at the footage and realize how much fun you actually had, and that makes it all worth it.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Sometimes it’s the moments you didn’t plan for that end up being the most memorable. Like when you have a laugh on set, and suddenly you feel closer to everyone, even though you’re supposed to be in character.”

“Exactly,” you said, your smile widening. “There’s something so beautiful about those unscripted moments. It reminds you that acting is, at its core, about connecting—whether that’s through laughter or the heavy stuff. And even though I had my fair share of giggling fits as a kid, I think those moments taught me just as much as the serious ones. Maybe more.”

Drew leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It's funny how those little moments—like a laugh in the middle of a serious scene—can end up being the ones you remember the most. I think those are the ones that make the work feel real, you know?”

You smiled, your gaze distant as you reflected on the years of working on sets. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah, like those unscripted moments,” Drew added, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the sentiment lingered in the air. “They give the performance an authenticity that you can’t get from just following the script to a tee.”

You nodded, the words hanging between you like a shared understanding. “Exactly. And as a kid, I was so focused on getting it ‘right’—on being perfect—that I missed the beauty of just being in the moment. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how important it is to let go of the idea of perfection. It's in those mistakes, the wrong takes, the bloopers—that's where you find the truth.”

Drew's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “I think it’s key not to be afraid to show the mess, the imperfect parts of a character, because that’s what makes them human.”

A small chuckle escaped you, the warmth of the moment filling the studio. “Right? We’re all just a little bit of a mess, trying to figure it out, but that’s what makes the journey worth it. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving, and we bring that to our work. The growth, the mistakes—it all shapes us.”

Drew nodded, his gaze shifting as if reflecting on those same ideas. “Yeah, and the growth never stops, does it? Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something new happens, and it challenges you again.”

“That's the beauty of it,” you said, your voice quieter now, the bond between you both deepening. “The challenge is what keeps it exciting, keeps you moving forward.”

Drew grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we’re both lifelong students of this thing called acting, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a laugh, the lightness returning. “And just like any good student, we’ll always be learning. Who knows, maybe we'll even get better at not laughing in the middle of dramatic scenes.”

Drew let out a hearty laugh, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s going to take years of practice, honestly.”

You both shared a moment of genuine laughter, the warmth of your conversation filling the space around you. You leaned back into the chairs, the laughter still lingering in the air, a sense of camaraderie that made the space between you feel comfortable and open. You continued sharing stories, moving seamlessly from one experience to the next.

The conversation began to slow, the easy flow of stories fading into a comfortable silence, as you both shared an unspoken understanding. The light laughter that had filled the room now felt like a warm, lingering hum between you.

Drew shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze turning toward you with a subtle, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I really hope we get to work together sometime. I think it’d be incredible. It’s the kind of thing where I can already imagine what it’d be like. Just... easy, real. Like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your composure, offering a smile that spoke volumes. “I’d love that. If you receive a call from your manager these days… maybe I had something to do with it, so be prepared.”

The air between you both was charged, the quiet intensity of the moment not lost on either of you. There was something unspoken, something deeper that neither of you addressed outright but that seemed to hang there all the same. The connection was undeniable, yet it lingered in the silence, unspoken, but clear.

Drew finally broke the spell with a playful grin, his eyes flicking back to yours. “Oh, I’ll be ready. Can’t wait to see what magic we create together.”

You returned his smile, your heart racing ever so slightly, though you kept it hidden behind the ease of your words. “I’m sure it’ll be something incredible.”

As the interview wrapped up, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you both, an attraction that neither of you had to mention but was so clearly felt. The kind of connection that could only be hinted at, but would never truly fade. It was the kind of moment that would stay with both of you long after the cameras stopped rolling.

“Thank you,” you said softly as the final moments of the interview started to loom, your voice carrying a depth that reflected everything unsaid between you. “This has been amazing. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been talking for hours, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

He nodded, his expression soft but genuine. “I feel the same way. This has been one of the most honest and open conversations I’ve had in a long time.”

The crew began to pack up, signaling that the interview was at its end, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to break the moment. The usual chatter and movement around you felt distant, as if the two of you were in your own world for just a little longer.

“You know,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a hint of sincerity threading through, “I think we make a pretty good team even just sitting here talking. Imagine what we could do with a whole script.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, the words feeling right, but the undertone of something more—something unsaid—hung in the air. “Yeah, I think we’d be unstoppable.”

The moment stretched between you both, filled with the kind of comfortable tension that comes when you realize you’ve shared something real. Something that felt like it could turn into something more.

You both stood up, a final, lingering moment before the usual goodbye. Drew extended a hand, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary.

“Take care, okay?” he said, his voice warm, like the words carried more than just a polite farewell.

You shook his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. “You too, Drew,” you replied, your voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of meaning that mirrored his own.

As you turned to gather your things, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with that same thoughtful expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. The faintest smile curved his lips, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind.

“See you around,” he called out, the words simple but loaded with promise.

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his gaze one last time. “See you around.”

Walking away, you felt a peculiar lightness, as though something intangible had shifted, leaving you both exhilarated and curious. It wasn’t every day you met someone who made you feel seen in such a profound way, and as you left the studio, you found yourself smiling, a quiet hope blooming in your chest.

And for a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to wonder what could come next.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 3

Pairing: Millionaire!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Rating: E, 18+, Minors dni

Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You decide it's time to put yourself on Joel's radar.

CW: Age gap (Joel 45, Reader 22), dual POV. Specific warnings in small red below the cut, do not read to avoid spoilers.

WC: 10k. Sorry, grab a snack!

AN: I'm continuously surprised by the love, excitement and joy that this story brings anyone but me. That probably doesn't even make sense, I'm just lost for words, tbh. Forehead kisses to @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk, and @milla-frenchy for screaming with me or pre reading this for me. @lotusbxtch gets a forehead kiss and a tip of the nose kiss for deep dive beta reading this, she's solely responsible for every semi colon.

Series Masterlist || My Masterist

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates to be alerted for future chapters.

Content Warnings: Flirty, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual acts, kissing, mutual pining, reader being pinned against a wall, sexual tension, touching. Reader does have some description so may be considered more of an OFC.

The week after Joel removed you from his club goes by in a well-scheduled blur. You work your usual three days, cleaning mansions of people who don’t tip as well as Mister Miller. You pour yourself over LSAT study guides, practicing insane logic questions. You enjoy a coffee date with Jamie who asks you what happened the night at the poker game. You tell her a practiced lie that feels like acid on your tongue as it leaves your lips. You hate lying to your friends, especially her. You can feel that lie sitting heavily on the top of your stomach the entire time you’re with her, but you simply cannot afford to get fired with three years of law school on the horizon. You spend an evening with your roommate, Odette, watching Netflix and eating dumplings from her favourite spot, the only spot in Austin that has those little white paper boxes with the red writing. 

If you decide not to lie to yourself, on top of everyone else, you also spend at least an hour a day watching videos of women tied up and dominated, thinking of Joel goddamn Miller the entire time. Since learning his full name, and the name of his club, the Google searches you swore you’d stop doing have been much more productive. You’ve found multiple blogs and Reddit posts, not just about kink, but also about Joel. It turns out that he’s well-known in the kink and BDSM communities around the world, but is essentially changing the face of kink in Austin. 

One night, you get lost in a Reddit wormhole of women in Texas, and one in Paris, who have been a submissive for a man that sounds a lot like Joel. They don’t actually mention him by name but there’s advice on what he likes and doesn’t like, and how he never actually has sex with any of his submissives. It also sounds like some of these women pay him to be their dom, and, based on the conversations in the comments of one thread, it seems like he has a few submissives at the moment, and majority of their interactions happen at the club. 

 The club. Fuck, Jamie wasn’t kidding when she said JMK was exclusive. Anyone can join, assuming you can pay the yearly membership fees that, according to Reddit, are around $80,000 per year. From the minimal, cryptic information you find, Joel Miller is the main owner and he has two business partners. One you assume is his brother that you served the other night, but the third you are unable to find any information about. 

Since everything you find online is up to interpretation, it’s hard to say what is and isn’t true. According to one disgruntled poster, once you become a member at JMKink, there are a lot of rules to follow. Everyone has to get tested monthly; it’s highly recommended that women are on birth control; and even if you’re married to the guest you bring, men must wear condoms. You can’t just bring anyone in with you: every member and their guest has an app, and the only way to get that app is from a QR code and an assigned activation code. According to another poster, the app is full of waivers and consent forms. You can’t stop the shy smile that crosses your face when you remember how concerned Joel was with your consent the first time you met. 

The Monday before your usual every-other-Tuesday shift at Joel’s, you find a blog post about becoming a submissive, and it’s like it was written just for you. The writer explains how she had a hard time shutting off her brain and how, by the end of the day, she was so exhausted from making decisions that all she wanted was someone to tell her what to do for once. This led to her and her husband exploring a sub/dom partnership. Now, she feels lighter and freer; they’ve both discovered new ways to get pleasure outside of the idea of sex that society feeds us. Being a submissive isn’t always about orgasms or pleasure; it’s helped her build confidence, and she’s found that as they progress, that little voice that tells her she isn't good enough has stopped being so loud. 

After reading through the post a few times, you shut your rose gold laptop and stare at the wall behind your desk. You feel seen, heard even though you didn’t speak. At first, you found yourself feeling ashamed of getting off to these videos, like there was something wrong with you for being turned on by it, but it’s really that ability to let go of control that you crave, the feeling of someone else making the decisions for once. You want that, but more so, you think you need that, and badly.

As a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason,’ it all comes together for you. You aren’t even nervous as the thought consumes you. If Joel shows up at his house, tomorrow I’m going to ask him to teach me. 

On Tuesday, you do as you always do, following Joel’s instructions to a tee while listening to a podcast. However, today you only wear one AirPod in hopes of hearing that familiar and comforting engine rev that signals him either coming or going. Every creak or pop of the house causes your heart to flutter, but it’s never him. Much to your chagrin, Joel doesn’t come home. 

Inside the envelope is that expensive matte black paper again, ‘Thanks -JM’ neatly written along it. 

Great, you think to yourself sarcastically, we are on initial terms again. 

Twelve hundred dollars is tucked into the envelope this time, you roll your eyes after thumbing the crisp green bills. The first tip you ever got from him felt sincere, but after walking in on him, and everything since then, it’s feeling more and more like apology money. You shouldn’t complain; people would kill to make this kind of money, but everything would be so much easier if he’d just fucking talk to you.

Your fingers run along the thick, rich paper that he uses as company letterhead. You can’t explain it, but the paper feels like Joel. It’s rough and thick, yet has a vulnerability to it, like you could easily destroy it with just a pinch of your fingers and a flick of your wrist. Your mind flashes back to his club the other night. He was literally begging you to leave, you can still hear it, the pleading in his voice as he said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me”. Your fingers trail across the golden ink of his neat handwriting and then open the paper the rest of the way. At the very bottom of the page, in shiny black print similar to the JMK logo at the top, is a phone number. Your heart slams against your ribcage as your eyes scan across the numbers.

  When you get home, you unfold the note on your kitchen counter and pace the three or four steps it takes to walk the length of your small kitchen, never taking your eyes off the paper, looking at it like it’s a live bomb or like it’s going to disappear if you let it out of your sight. This is it: you could call the office, make an appointment or something. You’d probably have to lie, but you just need to see him; you need to make a case for yourself. Your stomach lurches, throat tightening at the thought of being in the club with him again. You open the freezer and grab the bottle of tequila, taking a big swig right from the bottle. It’s a cold burn and you clench your eyes as you swallow it down. Your body shivers involuntarily.  

You dial before you can talk yourself out of it and before you know it you have an appointment under a fake name to speak to Joel tomorrow afternoon before your study group meets. You take two more large gulps of tequila after hanging up the phone. 

Fuck, this is really happening. You take another large sip of the frozen tequila for good measure, your nose scrunching up at the taste. 

Joel’s office isn’t attached to the club, it’s in a smaller building across the street and that has seemed to tamp some of the nerves that are vibrating your very core. Still, you can stop from nervously smoothing the wrinkles that have formed on the short, flowing skirt of your white sundress as you sit on the red velvet couch across from Joel’s receptionist. She is a small woman with a chin length bob, she’s probably in her late fifties and you wonder if her kids or grandkids know that she works for the owner of a kink club, or maybe she’s part of the community too. You’ve done copious amounts of research; kink isn’t just for young people, and you suppose Joel isn’t exactly young either. For all you know, she very well could be a dominatrix in her spare time. 

She says your fake name in a soothing tone as she stands and walks towards the tall black door, pulling it open effortlessly. “Go on in, sweetheart. Joel’s ready for you.”

You smile at her sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously as you walk over the threshold to try to convince the millionaire whose home you clean to dominate you. The air in his large, bright office feels heavy and thick. Blood rushes through your ears as he looks up at you from his seat. He slips off his 1950’s style black horn rimmed glasses and places them on his desk. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he assesses you. Your heart lurches, knees trembling as you take a few nervous steps towards his desk. As his eyes meet yours you feel it again, that exposed and naked feeling that only his gaze seems to be able to cast. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, but it’s an unseasonably warm March day and even before leaving your apartment you were sweating in a mix of nervousness and excitement. 

You see his lips move, but you can’t hear him over the pounding of your heart. You stop just past the door, then hear it click shut behind you. Joel’s silky lips move again and this time you hear your name followed by a calm, “What’re you doin’ here?”

The words come out before you even think about them, you practically yell them at him, “I want you to teach me.”

His hand waves to the chairs across his desk. When you don’t move he harshly says, “Sit.”

You rush across his expansive office, the plush carpet feels luxurious under your shoes. When you reach the black leather chair you sit on the very edge of the seat, your knee nervously bouncing up and down in time with your heart.

“You want me to do what?” He asks hesitantly, leaning forward in his chair. He looks absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon sun - orange hues reflecting off his tanned skin, the few greys along his temples glistening like the moon on the ocean. He’s in a black dress shirt again, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. You noticed today that he’s wearing a black watch and a gold ring on his right ring finger. Between his accessories and the veins that line his toned forearms your mouth goes dry.

“I - umm, I want you to teach me.”

The last word has barely passed your lips when he scoffs out, “No.”

Your face falls, “Joel, please. I’ve been doing research and I’ve decided that, well, that I want to be…that.”

He places his large palms on the desk, the square black diamond in his ring glittering in the sun, and pushes himself up. You crane your neck to look at him as he slips his hands into his pockets, his eyes already locked on yours. His intense eye contact wraps you up in a weighted blanket of safety and comfort, which is a dangerous and vulnerable place, a place that has the ability to rip you in half, much like you could do with that company letterhead he left you. He walks slowly to the other side of his desk. Once in front of you, he leans back onto it, keeping his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black dress pants. 

“You can’t even say it.” He challenges. 

You furrow your brows, ready to confront him like you always seem to do. In the few interactions you’ve had with Joel, more often than not, it’s been him trying to tell you what to do, you fighting him over it, and then him ultimately winning. It’s infuriating, but not this time. No, this time you’re going to win. You have valid reasons to want this, and they’re all backed up by your research. You are leaving this office as his submissive. 

“I can too!” 

He shrugs his broad shoulders nonchalantly, “Say it then. You wanna learn how to do what, sweetheart?” 

You sit up tall on the edge of the chair, crossing your arms under your breasts, praying your cheeks don’t flush as you finally admit it out loud. “I want to learn how to be a submissive.”

“No.” One of his meaty hands comes out of his pocket, waving you off as he says it again.

“Please!” You plead, “I want to learn how to be a sub.” 

Joel actually squirms at the sound of you being so needy. He lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath and then whispers your name, “I can’t do this with you.”

Got him, you think to yourself, failing to fight the smirk as you lower your voice and sweetly beg, “Please, Mister Miller?” 

Joel ‘Your-Consent-is-Most-Important’ Miller is not a small man: his broad shoulders take up almost an entire door frame and he’s easily nearing six foot four, but at the sound of you calling him the one name he’s asked you not to, he moves faster than your brain can comprehend. You gasp as he lunges towards you, his hands landing on the arms of the chair, his wide shoulders pushing you back as he cages you in. Your exposed back hits the back of the chair, your short skirt riding up your thighs slightly. He is practically on top of you and for a second you can imagine that this is what having sex with him would look like. His knuckles blanch from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly, his eyes are practically black, and that familiar flush he gets when you challenge him paints his neck and cheeks.

His voice is deeper, thick with arousal, rattling your bones as he speaks slowly, “I said not to call me that. You can’t even…You can’t.” He shuts his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose. His tone softens as he opens his eyes, “No, I ain’t doin’ this with you, sweet girl.” 

You practically writhe in your chair. Sweet girl. He’s terrifying and commanding and so fucking beautiful like this. He obviously has a soft spot for when you beg, so you soften your eyes and stick out your velvety smooth bottom lip enticingly before whispering, “Please, Joel.” 

He lets out a groan as he pushes himself off the chair and walks towards the large wall of windows behind his desk, his hands resting on his tapered waist. He avoids your gaze as you sit up, squeezing your thighs together tightly to calm the need at your core. “Lemme set ya up with someone else. My brother Tommy. You were gettin’ him a drink at that poker game.”

“I remember,” you mumble, looking down at your hands like you always do when your lack of confidence gets the best of you. You can’t let that self-doubt creep in now, not when you’re this close. You look back towards his broad back. “But I really don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” He spins towards you, the lighting behind him gives him an almost ethereal glow. There’s absolutely no denying it, Joel Miller is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

You tuck your hands under your legs, simply stating, “I trust you.”

“You don’t even know me. I could be a horrible guy.”

You let out a sad laugh, shaking your head at him. He’s right, you don’t know him, but you have a feeling about him and you consider yourself pretty good at reading people. “You’ve never given me reason to think I couldn’t trust you. Even that first day. You were so calm and apologetic.”

Joel presses his lips in a thin line, eyes raking over you. You subconsciously slip your bottom lip between your teeth, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “How old are you?”

“Twenty two,” you immediately regret lying; the avenue of trust is of utmost importance between a submissive and their dominant, so you quickly add, “Almost, I turn twenty two on Friday.”

 “I can’t do this.” He croaks and you can’t help but feel a little bad. You’ve put him in an uncomfortable position and his voice sounds defeated. 

“Please. I always felt I needed more but,” you stand up and take a few slow steps in his direction. “But…I didn’t know what more was and I - I think it’s this.” You audibly swallow pleading, “Please. I need you to help me. I want you to help me. Teach me.” 

He holds his hands up and steps back as you inch closer. A silent call that signals you to stop or that he doesn’t trust himself, not here, not with you. “Jus’ let me set ya up with Tommy. You’re his type.” 

Your heart sinks and an acidic taste lines your tongue. Of course. You aren’t that tall, slender icy blonde girl he had strapped to his desk. No, you have curves, and stretch marks along your hips, your boobs are a B cup on a good day. He can get whatever woman he wants, why would it be you? You look down at your hands, pushing back the nonexistent cuticle on your right thumb. This nervous habit of yours used to drive your mom crazy, ‘you’re going to have no skin left soon’ she’d lecture, but you can’t help it. The immediate result of the nail bed looking clean and perfect is like a dopamine hit. It leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment. The problem is, the initial confidence you had about this decision on Monday night has dwindled and you’ve been so anxious about this meeting that every single finger has a nicely pushed back cuticle. 

It’s silent in the room for a while, you shut your eyes as you sheepishly ask,  “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

“No!” He says insistently and without hesitation. His hand runs through his beard, a faint scratching sound fills the room drawing your eyes open and away from the skin of your thumb. As they land back on him you wonder what his patchy facial hair would feel like between your legs or along the soft skin of your stomach as he kissed you. His voice softens, “That’s not it. I just - I’m sorry. I jus’ can’t do this, sweetheart.”

You feel your chance to become the woman you want to be slipping through your fingers. Your plan is failing and for once in your life you don’t have a Plan B, this is the only plan that makes sense to you. Sadness creeps into your throat, “Why?” 

“‘S not a good idea, sweet girl,” he answers, his soft brown sugar flecked eyes reaching out to yours. 

His face and voice seem to be at war with his words. He’s saying no, but there’s a sadness in his eyes and a caring undertone to his voice. You’re not sure how you know it, but him calling you sweet girl means something to him. “Because I’m not your type?”

He shakes his head, that same curl falling into his eyes as it did in his foyer the other day. “That’s the problem, you’re exactly my type.”

Hearing that you’re this beautiful man's type should feel like you’ve won the lottery, but the way his shoulders slump as he says it only builds that lump in your throat. As you swallow the sadness down, his eyes travel to your neck, watching as the muscles flex and relax with the motion. “I - then why?”

He lets out a long breath and as he walks to the door he says, “I ain’t havin’ this conversation. I said no. And someone who is cut out to be a submissive would just take that answer for what it is.” 

“You’ve made it clear that I’m not a submissive,” you counter and walk towards the door. He cracks the door open and you step in close to him, unconsciously taking in his leather and ash scent before adding, “Have a nice night, Mister Miller.” 

Joel

The door feels like a feather behind his hand as he slams it shut - your body, warm and already vibrating, trapped between him and the solid piece of wood that separates the two of you from his receptionist. He made himself a promise in his rear view mirror the other week; he had to cut this off, create distance. He needed you to be just his house cleaner. Because everytime he looks into your eyes he feels the same way he felt at seventeen when he met Tiffany in that garage. Everything about you oozes sweetness and innocence, his sweetheart, his sweet girl. He didn’t think he was capable of feeling that way again. And he definitely should not feel this way for someone who is younger than his own daughter.

His large frame looms behind you, forcing your chest and forehead to rest against the door. He uses his foot to spread your legs wide. A breathy gasp passes your lips as your hands scramble for purchase against the wood grain of the door. He keeps pushing your legs apart, wide enough for your short white skirt to ride up your creamy thighs. Thighs he’s imagined wrapped tightly around his head as he makes you scream. 

Joel takes a small step forward, caging you completely, making it so you’re completely at his mercy. He can smell the sweet scent of your arousal growing between your thighs; he knows if he reaches a calloused finger to the gusset of your panties they’d be soaked through. His cock is hard as steel, pressing against the zipper of his pants and the small of your back. You’re practically panting and he fights to keep his breathing steady when really he wants to mirror the quick, uneven pace of your breath. This is much more serious and intimate than when he had you trapped in the chair. This is dangerous. This could lead to more.   

His strong fingers wrap around your dainty wrists. He loves the way you don’t fight him as he pulls them above your head, gathering both your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them to the door roughly. His free hand draws a slow line down your arm, then along the sensitive skin of your neck, and down your spine. Goosebumps break out over your skin and you instinctively arch your back into him, a desperate whine passes from your lips between laboured breaths, and that sound nearly buckles his knees.  

His lips come to the shell of your ear, his beard tickling you as he speaks in a slow and commanding tone. “Do you feel what you do to me when you call me that. I’ve asked you not to. Multiple times.”

Your mint and lavender scented shampoo fills his nose as he nudges at you to tilt open your throat to him. He revels in how easily you oblige, cocking your head to the side like the good little girl he knows you are. He continues, lips just a hair away from your pulse point; he’s sure if he pressed his lips to it he’d feel how hard your heart is racing. “But I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I fucking love that you haven’t stopped.” 

Your soft skin is warm against his rough fingers as they continue their trail down your body, running over the firm globe of one of your ass cheeks. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard, distracting himself from the urge to spank you for calling him Mister Miller yet again. Finally, his fingers find a home on one of your thighs. He brushes lightly against your soft inner thighs, small little touches jumping from one leg to the other. The little involuntary twitches of your body and the needy little gasps of air you suck through your teeth has his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He’s aching for you in a way he hasn’t felt for years. 

“You infuriate me with your insubordination and it makes me weak,” he mutters. “Makes me absolutely insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about what’s underneath those clothes, and after seeing your perfect breasts and your little pink nipples… fuuuuck, baby. All I can think about is how good they’d look with my handprints tattooed on them after I slap them while you orgasm. Can’t stop thinking about how wet your little pussy must get. How tight she would be around my fingers as I claim her as mine. How fucking delicious she must taste. How goddamn sexy your cries of pain and pleasure would sound.”

Your whole body shudders against his. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you and he knows he needs to stop before he crosses a line, but the way your body responds to him is precisely how he likes it: pliant and ready. His mind reels with all the naughty things he’d like to do to you. If he reaches just a little bit higher he could finally know how you sound when you come, how silky your cunt is, how you taste. He runs the tip of his hooked nose down your neck, the light citrus of your perfume replacing the scent of your shampoo. 

“That what you wanna hear?” Joel continues. “How fucking weak you make me? How desperate? I can’t do this because once I start…I ain’t gonna be able to let you go. Ain’t gonna be able to stop. Never gonna be able to have any other little play thing. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. If I start this, this is it for me.”

Joel releases your wrists with a growl and walks away, carding his fingers through his curls and looking out at the cityscape as the sun begins to dip behind the tall buildings. He doesn’t look back, he can’t look back or he’ll fucking crack. He’ll haul you over his shoulder and take you into his club. He’ll show you everything right now and he won’t stop. His eyes flutter closed as he takes controlled breaths to slow his heart rate, the unmistakable sound of his office door opening and closing behind him. 

You 

You yank the door open and walk as fast as your legs will take you, your mind swirling, every emotion trying to win for first place. You’re painfully turned on, you can feel how soaked your panties are. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. It’s like it’s been carved into your brain. Only you. You jam at the elevator close button as your lungs scream for fresh air, and as you step out into the warm spring night you suck in breath for what feels like the first time since you made this appointment last night. 

Your phone vibrates in the small purse you have across your body. He doesn’t have your number, you remind yourself as you reach for your phone. Jamie’s name across your slightly cracked screen. “Hey!” 

“Are you ok?” her voice is thick with concern.

Your chest feels tight, “Ya, why?”

“You sound like you're out of breath.” 

You laugh a little, “Oh. I was..” fuck, what was I doing. “I mean I am walking. Like on a walk.” 

Even a toddler wouldn’t be convinced by your lie, and Jamie isn’t either as she gasps loudly on the other end before whispering, “Were you having sex?”

“No! God no!” Your clit twitches at the thought of how close Joel was today. “I’m on the street, can’t you hear the cars.” 

“Ok. You do need some sex though,” she laughs. 

“Jamie,” you sigh, “I have to get to a study group. What’s up?” 

She giggles devilishly. “Wellll - It’s your birthday weekend. I want to throw you a party at this really amazing club on Friday.”

“Umm, ya. Sure. Nothing too crazy though, right?” 

“Promise you can keep your top on this time, prude.” She says teasingly and you laugh. “It’s called Mystique. The owner is an old family friend and she gave us a sweet VIP booth and bottle service, all completely free!”

You slide your key into the door of your SUV to unlock it, “Ok. Let’s do it.”

“Good, because I already invited the girls.” You sigh and your phone buzzes in your ear as Jamie’s computer dings on the other end. “Oh, weird. Your regular every other Tuesday clean just requested for you to go on Friday. Weren’t you just there yesterday?” 

Joel. You say dreamily in your mind. 

“That’s shitty,” Jamie continues, “That’s your birthday. The shift is only 4 hours, but I can offer it to someone else if you want.” 

“No!” It comes out too eager and you remind yourself to chill the fuck out as you put her on speaker phone and open the app. “I mean, no, that’s ok. I need the money and my calendar shows 11 to 3, lots of time to get ready!” 

“Text me when you’re done with your study group and we’ll hammer out the details for Friday night. We didn’t get to celebrate you turning twenty one with your insane schedule -”

“Hey!” You exclaim, pretending to be hurt.

“Ya ya, I know,” her voice an amused sarcasm as she continues, “The master plan to graduate early. Which you did. So can we please make this the best celebration yet?” Even without being able to see your best friend you know she’s dancing excitedly on the balls of her feet while giving big green doe eyes. 

Friday rolls around quickly, and you aren’t sure what you’re looking forward to more; a much needed night out with your girlfriends or the possibility of Joel being home today. You’ve tried not to think about how his body felt against yours, but every few hours you found yourself with your hand between your legs, rubbing tight little circles on your clit until you came to thoughts of him, whispering Mister Miller like a church prayer.  

Pulling up to his house today feels strange. He requested an extra clean this week just minutes after you asked him to teach you how to sub and after finding out that your birthday was today. You haul your stuff into his house, letting out a frustrated sigh when you find it quiet and empty. You click open your app and he’s asking you to dust and vacuum the basement, as well as wipe out the fridge. You look down at the app confused. He’s never asked you to clean the basement, and the fridge? He doesn’t cook. The eleven thousand dollar fridge is basically just a decoration to fill a gap in the countertops. 

You pop in your airpods and head downstairs. The cozy white carpet of the stairs feels like plush clouds under your Keds. As you round the corner of the stairs you see everything that makes someone's house a home. So this is where he keeps it all, you think to yourself. 

The short hallway from the stairs to the large open concept basement is covered in photos of Joel at all stages of his life. The first picture that catches your eye is a teenage baby faced Joel and a beautiful young woman sitting on a hospital bed, she’s smiling at the camera as Joel looks down at the tiny bundle of pink blankets in her arms. He looks so happy and soft, and it ignites a small flame of jealousy. Not at the woman, but at the happy little family.

As your eyes scan all the pictures you see that baby at all ages. There’s a picture of her holding a trophy as big as her with little cleats and shin guards on. In another, she and Joel are holding a big fish, her toothless smile bright and brilliant, while something in Joel’s eyes looks sad even though his plush lips are curved up in a sexy smile. 

Another picture is of the little girl sitting on her mom’s lap; the woman doesn’t seem as vibrant in this picture. The next one to catch your eye is her holding a cupcake with a candle in the shape of the number sixteen, then him in a pressed black suit and her in her high school cap and gown. The last picture is similar, except it’s a college graduation photo. 

As you peel yourself away from all the pictures you haven’t managed to look at yet, you face the main living area, a large open concept space. There’s a cozy grey sectional facing the big screen TV, shelves of DVDs surround it and you can only imagine all the movie nights the two of them had down here. There's a pool table along the far back right side of the room and to the left are a bunch of guitars, both acoustic and electric, hanging on the wall. You walk towards the guitars, there’s a stool and a small table beside the amp. An open notebook with lyrics lays on the table and as tempting as it is to read it, you look away. This space is who Joel is and he’s obviously trusting or testing you by sending you down here. He did tell you that you didn’t know him, and that he could be a bad guy, but everything here screams wholesome family man. 

You dust and vacuum, then fluff the couch cushions and fold the blankets nicely. There’s an empty glass on the side table, so you grab that and wash it at the small wet bar before placing it with the other glasses. You take one last longing look at the notebook, it’s tempting but decide you are right to not read it. It’s none of your business what he writes and sings about. You picture him there, dressed casually in sweat pants and t-shirt, his large fingers plucking with a practiced finesse at the strings, you wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor with a cup of coffee and a book. The two of you being independently together on a Sunday morning. 

Thoughts of the two of you like that are dangerous; being his submissive isn’t being his girlfriend. You’ve been very good at compartmentalizing, mostly as a coping mechanism to your past, so you find a metaphorical little box in the back of your mind to stuff all those feelings and thoughts into. As you gather your cleaning supplies, you take one last look around. maybe this was his way of showing you that you can’t have a future with him, that he’s done with the kids-and-marriage part of his life. None of that matters to you; you don’t want kids and marriage, you just want a partnership, and the support and comfort that comes with it. You want to become a lawyer, and eventually a judge, and one day sit on the supreme court and defend everyone's civil and human rights. That’s the goal, the only goal.  

From this point on, any feelings for Joel Miller go in that box. If he ever changes his mind, he is my dominant and nothing else. You push the lid on the feelings box and run through your life plan as you head up the stairs. Law school and lawyer, then a relationship before judge and supreme court. That’s the plan, it’s always been the plan.

Once you’re in the kitchen, you pop open the fridge to see a single red rose. You lose a fighting battle with your face, smiling huge from ear to ear. You grab it and close the now empty fridge, bringing the rose to your nose to breathe in the sweet and powdery scent. The black and red envelope sits on the shiny marble countertop. You place the rose down and pop open the envelope. You pull out fifteen hundred dollars and a black business card. Your brows knit together as you inspect the card, flipping it over. A QR code for the JMK app, an activation code, and a note that says “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” 

You practically rip your phone from your back pocket and scan the QR code. You dance nervously on the balls of your feet as the app downloads. With shaky fingers you create a username and password, then type in the activation code. A bunch of permissions pop up, and while the baby lawyer inside of you screams that you need to read them, you’re too eager, so you hastily click accept on all of them. A profile with your newly appointed username splays across the screen. Right below your name it says “Beginner Submissive” and you roll your eyes. You upload the hottest selfie you can find of yourself to be your profile picture, smirking at what you imagine Joel’s reaction will be when he sees you in that tight fitting gold dress, a picture Jamie took of you on New Year’s Eve. 

On the top right of your screen are 3 little lines, you open the menu and have two options. ‘Assigned Dominant’ and ‘Limits and Waivers’. You are eager to fill out whatever Joel wants on this app, but none of this will feel real to you until you see his name as your Dom. You giggle as you click the first menu. Holy shit, you think as the new window loads, this is going to happen, he’s going to do it. 

Your heart freezes in your chest, and every ounce of excitement and happiness drains from you as you read ‘Assigned Dominant: Tommy Miller’.

When you get home, you open your JMK app again, looking at the assigned dominant screen in hopes you made a mistake. But there it is, clear as day, ‘Tommy Miller’. You lock your phone in frustration and toss it onto your unmade bed. Why would he do this? You’re sure that everything in the limits and waivers menu would have been a yes if Joel was your dom. But Tommy? Not that there’s anything physically wrong with Tommy. He’s definitely attractive, but he’s not Joel and you thought you made that perfectly clear. 

After you shower you've decided you’ve cooled off enough to continue in the app. Tommy is still not Joel, but you want this for yourself, right? And it’s not about pleasure or attraction, it’s about the escape, and more importantly, it’s about having someone to push you and help you grow.    

You click the ‘Limits and Waivers’ menu, a whole quiz comes up where you can rate your interest in different sexual and non sexual acts on a scale of one to five, and secondary checkmark if you’ve already done those things. You scroll through the list, this would be easy with Joel, all fives, all ‘highly interested’, or so you think. As you scroll through the list you get some real fetish level stuff - diapers, feet, scat play, being hung from hooks. You know enough not to kink shame anyone, but none of that interests you. As such, you rank them as a one, not at all interested.

You scroll back up to fill in all the stuff you’re more interested in. 

Spanking, five. 

Whips and Crops, five. 

Paddles, five. 

Nipple Clamps, five, fucking five hundred at this point. 

Bondage, another five hundred. Vibrators, five. 

Butt Plug, three - ya, that one surprised even yourself, but it’s Tommy, not Joel. 

The little box to click if you’ve done those things remains unchecked. You aren’t a virgin, but the small handful of college boys you’ve entertained had the same two or three moves, all of which left you unsatisfied. 

Odette bangs on your door, and you jump as your phone goes flying from your hand as she barges in. “Let’s get ready! Repeat twenty one, baby!”

You scramble off your bed to grab your phone before she does, one of your hands in a death grip on your towel, “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Oh god, you were watching porn again weren’t you?” She laughs as your cheeks flush crimson. She wanders to your closet and opens the doors, “We gotta find you something real hot for tonight, you need to get laid.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you sing nonchalantly, wandering to your vanity to run a brush through your wet hair.

A few hours later and you’re all ready to go. Jamie and Laren came over to pre-drink and do their hair and make up. The four of you blasted nineties Shania Twain while drinking rosé and doing shots of cheap tequila. You pick a floor length black dress with a slit that goes almost to your hip and drips low between your breasts and leaves your back bare. You leave your hair down, curling it loosely before applying minimal makeup, flirty false lashes and a vibrant matte red lipstick. The packaging says that it's guaranteed not to smudge for up to twelve hours. 

“We’ll test that tonight on drinks and men,” Laren says as she steals it from your hand and puts it on her full, pouty lips.

Jamie surprises you with a limo. Before getting in you swipe your JMK app open and save your half-finished preferences. Tonight is not about Joel or Tommy; tonight is about you, and you deserve to be celebrated.

The table Jamie managed to secure for your birthday is perfect. You’re just off the dance floor, but raised up so that you can see the entire club. The music is loud and the room is dark, dimly lit with light pinks and purples. As you settle into the booth a young icy haired blonde girl in small black shorts and a lacy bra wanders in. “Hey babes! I’m Jade, let’s get these bottles going! Here’s the menu.”

Her eyes fall to you as she hands the bottle service menu and you both freeze. It’s her, the girl from Joel’s desk. The thump of the music fades and all you can hear is her moans and cries, the squelching of her pussy as Joel finger fucked her hard and deep. Shit, fuck, why me. She smiles at you, “Oh hey! Good to see you again.”

A chorus of, ‘again?’ and ‘how do you know each other?’ comes from your friends, all of their wide eyes staring at you.

“We don’t really,” you rush. “Just a mutual acquaintance really.”

Luckily, she gets the hint and just nods along. “What are we getting to drink ladies? I’ve heard it’s on the house so pick something expensive!”

You pick a bottle of Clase Azul tequila, Jade saying she can make different cocktails with it so you’re not all just doing shots. After a few rounds you find yourself alone in the booth while your friends go to the bathroom. Jade sits on the black leather seat beside you. 

“Look, I just want to say that I’m sorry for what you saw the other week. Joel sort of forbade me from seeking you out, but if you’re in my section at the club I work at then I’m not really breaking any rules.” She’s even more beautiful up close, no fucking wonder Joel wants to give you to Tommy. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you. But you see it now, why he’d pass you along. You can’t compete with a woman like her, and from the sounds of it Joel has more than one gorgeous, tall, slender blonde at his beck and call. 

“No, it’s ok. I’m actually learning to be a sub soon.” You smile at her, trying to tamp down the jealousy that’s threatening to choke you.

“No way! Joel is amazing, I only see him like once a month now but you’re going to love it.” Suddenly your entire body feels like an open wound, and the lime and salt left on your hands from tequila shots burns through you. The back of your eyes burn, frustration and jealousy don’t mix well with Rosé and tequila. You blink a few times to stop the tears. 

“He actually set me up with Tommy,” you croak, “Said I’m more his type.”

Just as she opens her perfect pink lips you hear the unmistakable opening to your all time favourite Shania Twain song, and as if your friends appeared from thin air the four of you yell, “Let’s go girls!”. The icy blonde pats the top of the table in your booth with one hand and holds her other hand out for yours. You climb up onto the table, your friends getting on the chairs. 

Every insecurity dissipates from your body as you sing loudly with your friends, swaying your hips to the music. You surrender yourself to the genius that was Shania Twain and Mutt Lange. As you break into the chorus for a second time, a glint of silver across the club catches your eye. Standing on the other side of the dancefloor, leaning against the bar top, is Joel Miller. 

His eyes are locked on yours; he’s wearing brown dress pants and a white short sleeved button up shirt, the top few buttons are left undone and it pulls at his biceps perfectly. He looks so sexy and casual, hair pushed back as he swirls the amber coloured whiskey around in its glass. He smiles devilishly, shaking his head jovially at you as you put on a show for him. As the song ends he crooks his pointer and middle fingers at you, silently calling you over. The simple motion of his fingers makes your pussy flutter, wetness slicking your thighs since you decided to forgo underwear tonight. Risky choice with the high slit of the skirt but suddenly it’s feeling like it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to your girlfriends as they help you off the table. They call for more shots and you refrain from all out sprinting to Joel. 

“Quite the show you put on up there,” he says, grabbing your bicep like he did at the poker game and pulling you gently along with him.

“You didn’t seem to mind.” You twist your arm out of his grasp and stumble. You’re definitely well on your way to being drunk, but you don’t want him to know that.

He grabs for your waist to steady you. “Careful, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not. And even if I was, I’m celebrating, so I’m allowed to be drunk. Not allowed to be your sub, but allowed to be drunk.” His eyes darken and you know you’ve crossed some sort of undrawn line, but you’re at that reckless sass point in your tipsiness and you really don’t care. A saccharine sweet smile crosses your face as you plant your hands on your hips.

“You sure you wanna play this game, sweetheart?” He practically growls.

“I’m not your sweetheart, I’m Tommy’s,” it comes out poutier than you expect. You spin on the balls of your feet and head back to the dance floor. As always, you can feel his eyes on you as you walk away. When you approach the dance floor you see a handsome man about your age looking at you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms Joel is watching, you grab the hand of the stranger and say, “Let’s dance.”

As all young, drunk boys do, he obliges. You spin and press your back in this body, grinding your ass into him and keeping your eyes locked on Joel. How did he find you here? Why would he be out at this particular club, unless of course he’s keeping an eye on the icy blonde woman. She confirmed they only see each other once a month though, so why? Is he following you somehow?

The boy's hands move to your hips, traveling up your abdomen. You wink at Joel, pulling your hair to the side and tilting your head so the boy behind you has access to the same spot on your neck that he had in his office. Just as his lips start to lower Joel snaps. Got him, you think. He takes a few long strides onto the dance floor, pulling you away like you’re some sort of toy, like he’s a caveman coming to take what’s his. You let him pull you, yelling an apology to the boy on the dance floor.

Even though you’re happy to go with him, you can’t let him know that. “Joel, stop it. You can’t kick me out of here too.”

He takes you down a quiet, dark hallway, barely illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign. “I own half this place, baby. So I can.”

You twist your arm free from his grip, “You’re the bane of my existence, Joel Miller.”

“Why haven’t you filled out your app yet?”

You scoff, anger and annoyance starting to replace the happy feeling you had when he pulled you from the dance floor. “Are you stalking me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Doms can see where their subs are at all times if they accept the location tracker on the app.”

Shit, all those menus that you just clicked ‘Accept All’ to at the beginning. Of course your dom would be able to find you, depending on the relationship they can control everything you do. “You’re not my dom!” You state.

Joel rolls his eyes. “I know. Tommy told me you hadn’t filled it all out yet and where you were. So, why haven’t you filled out the app?”

You lean back on the railing along the wall and slide your feet from your heels, placing them on the cool tile of the floor to soothe the ache in your arches. Your hands come back to grip the railing. “It’s none of your business.”

“Sweet girl, in this case it literally is my business. The JM stands for Joel Miller.”

This time you roll your eyes and then mumble, “Because I don’t want Tommy. I don’t think I’m going to fill it out anymore.”

Joel leans back against the railing across the small hall from you, pinching the bridge of his noise in annoyance, “Please. For me, can you just fill it out?”

“For you? You made it clear you don't want me. I’m filling it out for Tommy.”

He crosses his arms, biceps bulging even more against the tight fabric of his short sleeved button up, if he’s not careful he’s going to go full incredible hulk on that shirt. Not that you’d mind.

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ and that’s also where you’re wrong. You’re fillin’ that out for you. If you’re fillin’ it out for anyone else, then you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.”

You let out an unimpressed sounding huff, “I’m not.”

His lips press into a tight line as he considers his words carefully; Joel is old enough to know not to argue with a twenty-one year old who’s had tequila. “Ok, you’re not. So then why do you want to be a sub?”

He watches as your whole body seems to deflate, there’s a shift, almost like desperation in your body. Sadness lines your eyes as they meet his and your voice comes out small and uncertain. “Because I’m exhausted, Joel. I - I spend all day making decisions, and studying, and learning about civil rights law. I’m always having to come up with a plan A, and B, all the way to plan Z sometimes. And then,” your head falls back to the wall as you continue speaking to the ceiling with your eyes closed, “Then I do it all over again the next day. I can’t shut it off, my brain. It just keeps going and going. It's so loud, so constant, so fucking overwhelming and there’s no escape.”

You fall silent and he steps forward, slipping his large hand behind your neck and bringing your gaze to his. You continue, fighting against the boulder that’s forming in your throat, “I don’t think I’m good enough. Or strong enough…Smart enough. I want to see for once that I am, want to see what I can overcome. For once,” you sigh heavily. “For once I just want someone to tell me how well I’m doing.”

Joel’s eyes fall to your lips, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Fill out the app.”

You take a deep breath. You feel lighter after finally getting to confessing all of that to him. That was your plan for his office the other day, but something about him flusters you and you were completely knocked off the rails by that special unknown thing Joel has over you. You whisper, “I don’t want to do this with Tommy. Please, Joel.”

Joel’s forehead comes to rest on yours, you can see the golden flecks in his dark eyes at this proximity. He smells like mint, and that same ash and leather from his office the other day. You should ask him right now why he let you in his basement today, but he speaks before you can. “Can you please, just for once, show me that you can listen?”

“Kiss me,” you hum, trailing your hands up his strong arms.

He stiffens under your touch. “What?” he asks dumbfoundedly.

“Kiss me and I’ll go home right now and fill out the app,” you whisper, inching your lips closer to his. 

“You’ll go home, fill out the app, and you will not touch yourself.” It’s not a question, it’s a deep command.

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you say, “What?”

He crowds his body closer to yours, pulling his face back slightly so he can take you all in. You’ve never seen this expression before, that flash of darkness from the first time you called him Mister Miller in your car has permanently etched itself into your mind, but it’s almost like he’s transitioned into full dominant Mister Miller now. “If you want to convince me to be your dom, it’s not going to be through just a kiss. So prove to me that you can listen, prove to me that you can be a good girl. ”

The wetness between your legs starts to coat your thighs at the sound of him asking you to be a good girl. You clench your thighs together as his forehead meets yours again.

He continues, his voice just as commanding, “If I give you this kiss, you’ll go home alone, you will not touch that dripping little cunt, and you will fill out the app.”

Your pussy is throbbing with need. You should have known better than to sass him so hard tonight. Someone as competent and experienced as Joel would know exactly how to punish his sub when they were acting up. You nod your head and hum in agreement to his demands.

“Ask me nicely.” He murmurs.

“P-please…kiss me, Joel.” Butterflies assault  the inside of your stomach.

You didn’t think it was possible, but he manages to crowd you even more, your entire body pressed firmly against his. Every skin cell is screaming for his attention, every nerve firing off signals making you hyper aware of anywhere he’s touching you.

“Ask me again using that name I told you not to call me,” He knows he’s playing with fire, but at this exact moment he doesn’t care, he fucking loves the way his preferred dom name sounds coming off your lips. 

“Kiss me, Mister Miller. Please?” It’s airy and desperate, your knees feel weak below you and it feels as if you can’t get a full breath in. The anticipation is killing you. 

“Why?” he growls. Growing up you were always afraid of dark spaces, but if there were any monsters in this hallway they’d be running scared at the timbre of his voice right now.

Your back arches instinctively into him. You’re safe here, Joel Miller is your safety. “Because I need you, Mister Miller. Please. Just one kiss…then I’ll do anything. I promise. P-please. I need to feel you on me, Mister Miller.”

Joel bends slightly, his hands come to the back of your thighs and he lifts you, slamming you against the wall. You squeal, arms flinging around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. He pins you to the wall with his hips and lets go of your thighs. Both of you are practically panting, his cock is hard as steel, pressing against his zipper and your bare pussy. Your skirt is covering you from exposing yourself to him but something about the glint in his eye when your bodies connect makes you think he might know you don’t have any panties on. 

His hands peel your arms from around his neck and he pins them with one hand above your head like he did in his office. You whimper and grind your hips against him. His free hand wraps around your throat, holding it gently. 

“No,” he growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have to stop your hips. “Say it again.”

He watches your mouth hungrily as you lick your lips and you fight back a moan. He can feel your pulse firing rapidly under his calloused fingertips. A needy whisper passes your lips, filling the miniscule space left between your bodies. “I need you, Mister Miller. Please kiss me.”

With that he slams his lips against yours. It’s a desperate and heady mess of tongue and teeth, your moans being swallowed by his greedy mouth. You tilt your head to allow him in more. His tongue devours every inch that it can reach. He nips at your bottom lip before diving back in. He takes whatever he wants from you and you let him. For the first time in years your brain is quiet. No anxiety about the quickly approaching LSAT, no thinking of whatever practice question you’re stuck on. That nagging fear of being rejected from all the law schools you’ve applied to goes silent. The worrying voice that tells you you’re not good enough disappears. Everything you are is replaced by whatever Joel gives. 

You grind down onto him as you flick your tongue against his; he’s so rough yet so very soft. His tongue tastes like mint and whiskey. You can feel your orgasm building, it’s going to happen embarrassingly fast at this rate. You feel light headed from lack of oxygen and the slight push of his fingers into the side of your throat. More, more, more, you yell in your head.

Joel breaks the kiss and puts you down on your feet, holding you steady as you find your legs again. His lips are puffy and even though it’s not the time to be thinking of this, you realize there isn’t a single drop of red lipstick on his face, so it really will last twelve hours without smudging. 

His thumb comes to your face, swiping along your bottom lip gently, “Put your number in my phone, sweet girl.”

He holds his brand new iPhone Max out to you and you tap your number in with shaky fingers. He sends a quick text when you hand his phone back and then he kneels in front of you, helping you back into your heels. As he stands his hand trails from your ankle, all the way up the slit of your skirt to settle on your clothed hip. “Go get your stuff and go home now, baby. There’ll be a car waiting for you out front.”

He pats your bum gently as you walk on shaky legs back to your VIP booth. You feel like a newborn giraffe as you make your way to your table. 

“Where have you been?” Jamie proclaims, holding up a tequila shot for you.

You wave her off, “I think I’ve had too much. I’m gonna go but I want you girls to stay. Enjoy your night for me.”

It takes a few minutes but you convince your friends to stay and that you’ll be fine and already have a ride arranged. As you exit the club there’s a gorgeous blacked out town car parked in front. An older gentleman in a suit looks at you and nods, “Good Evening, Miss. Are you the young lady Joel Miller has asked me to escort home?”

You nod back, trying to act like this is an everyday occurrence and not the most outrageous thing that’s ever happened to you. As soon as you get home you change into your most unflattering set of pajamas, hoping that if you feel unsexy then it’ll stop that insistent throb between your thighs. Joel was so fucking close again, and this time there was no underwear in his way.

You slide open the app, Tommy Miller is still set as your dom, but you go through the preferences carefully and answer as honestly as possible as to what you want. You try to focus on the questions even though you can still feel Joel's throbbing cock pushing against you, and his warm hands around your wrists and throat. You can still taste him on your lips. You shake the ghost of him off of you and remind yourself again what you want from this, aside from mind-blowing orgasms. 

You fill out every section and then hit save. Just as you are about to lock your phone and try to fall asleep your phone vibrates, the JMK app as a notification.

‘Your Assigned Dominant has changed to Joel Miller’

Your heart pounds behind your rib cage as you stare at the notification, your head feels fuzzy, possibly from the booze, or that kiss, but you can’t believe your eyes. You close out of the app and go back in, staring at where Joel’s name has replaced Tommy’s. Just as it all starts to feel real you get a text message from a number you don’t have saved. You click on the message app.

“No coming until I say so, I know you weren’t wearing any panties tonight. Messy little pussy ruined my pants. Go to sleep now, my sweet girl.”

Next Chapter

[qqueenofhades]

I love your essays; they are fascinating. Thank you for sharing your perspective! I have a follow up question, if you have the time or energy: in your last, you said, “It's a blueprint for a tiny group of extreme right-wing theocrats and fascists to get their way regardless of what the broader public says about it…”. Who ARE the tiny group of extreme right wing theocrats and fascists? Is it the politicians whom we see all over the news, like Vance and Boebert ands Haley and DeSantis? Or are they puppets whose strings are being pulled by donors behind the scenes, like…I don’t know, the Koch brothers and the Uleins (sp?)? I feel like whoever it is must have mind boggling amounts of money, to overcome the sheer number of people who don’t think like that, even people nominally republican who believe in traditional low taxes and small government, but are not completely bananapants. Or maybe that’s why they tagged trump, bc no one before him was willing to act like enough of an outright gangster to seriously move the needle…? How much more rich than disgustingly rich do they need to be?

Perhaps surprisingly, it's fairly easy to identify the Hall of Shame who are busily trying to end American democracy, not least because they have become increasingly open about it. Their motives are diverse but all terrible. The quick rundown is as follows:

First, the alt-right billionaires club such as Peter Thiel, Elon Musk, Harlan Crow, and Leonard Leo (the last two are some of the chief funnelers of dark money to SCOTUS; Crow is Clarence Thomas's sugar daddy). They have reasons ranging from grandiose delusions about "remaking" the world in their preferred image (not at all terrifying) to attaching themselves to fascist politics in order to defeat workers' rights and labor unions, who they view as a threat to their mega-wealth. Thiel is the primary sponsor of JD Vance and the alt-right cryptobros clubs that draw the young right-wing white men who also primarily form the membership of neo-Nazi and white nationalist groups. They want to end democracy in order to punish women, minorities, LGBTQ+ people, and anyone else who Nazis always hate. Crow and Leo have lavishly funded the corrupt SCOTUS in order to influence their preferred right-wing rulings, and there are undoubtedly more who we don't even know about. This is just the tip of the iceberg and I have no doubt that it's far, far worse than anything that has been publicly reported.

Next are the extremist right-wing interest groups that have cohered around and advocated for Project 2025, which is basically just the conservative-extremist wet dream put in one place and written down. They include the Heritage Foundation (the primary Project 2025 author) the Federalist Society and the John Birch Society of right-wing judges and policymakers, and Opus Dei, the secretive Catholic right-wing influence group who are straight out of a Dan Brown novel but are in fact some of the most consequential and powerful players in MAGA World. Their name means "work of God" in Latin, which is very much what they see themselves as doing, and their reach in DC is vast, particularly in the far-right evangelical and fundamentalist Christian groups that have attached themselves to Trump as a vehicle to push through their regressive-reactionary social and cultural politics, especially on abortion, women's rights, LGBTQ+ rights, and other things that they view as "unholy." These are the diehard true believers who really, truly think that it's better for the US to be a fascist theocracy espousing "Right and Moral" religious views than a flawed, pluralist, and secular democracy. Hard Yikes.

Thirdly we have the useful idiots, such as Vance, Ron DeSantis, Boebert, Greene, basically pick-a-Republican-politician-here, who are pursuing fascist politics out of careerism, opportunism, some amount of genuine belief, and exploiting the age-old fissures of American racism, nativism, xenophobia, and other original sins that have dogged the country since its founding. Of course, Trump himself is chief among these useful idiots, because he's completely willing to end American democracy and install himself as Dictator-for-Life if it exempts him from having to face the consequences for all the crimes he did last time (and frankly, his entire life, which is now catching up with him). I don't think Trump has an actual consistent or coherent policy bone in his body; witness how quickly he was willing to flip-flop on the Florida abortion issue depending on what he thought was useful (and then after the backlash he received from his base). He's a malignant narcissistic sociopath who is incapable of complex reasoning and long-term planning. His only and overriding interest is himself, he will do absolutely whatever he has to in order to save himself, and as long as he has his death grip on the GOP, everyone who wants to succeed in the party or even have a future in it has to slavishly kiss Don Corleone Trump's ring. That is why many lifelong Republicans have been breaking ranks to say they will vote for Harris, because "being a Republican's" one and only qualification is now "being utterly loyal to Trump." That's it.

These are all actors based more or less in the US, but we also can't forget the fact that basically the entire Republican Party is in deep, deep hock to Vladimir Putin and other foreign autocrats (but most especially and dangerously Putin). We just had the DOJ indictment of MAGA influencers who were taking Russian black cash by the bucketload in order to spread damaging lies about Biden/Harris and pump for Trump, and this is consistent with Russia's pattern of extensive interference in American elections going back to at least 2016. It is hard to overstate how much Putin hankers to end American democracy for many reasons. He is a former KGB agent trained in the black-and-white us-and-them logic of the Cold War where the US was the USSR's archenemy, his constant mourning for the USSR's collapse has been well documented, and it would be the absolute defining and singular achievement of all of post-imperial Russian history for Putin to effectively end American democracy with a second Trump term.

This is for the simple reason that Trump is utterly in thrall to Putin and will do whatever he asks, whether it's cutting off aid to Ukraine and forcing them to accept annexation by Russia, pulling America out of NATO and letting Putin set his invasion sights on Poland and the Baltic states, and anything else. That is genuinely terrifying but very likely if Trump was re-elected, aside from the end of American democracy and the worldwide ramifications it would have to empower fascist authoritarians everywhere. Putin is trying to achieve this through a combination of good old-fashioned Soviet-style dezinformatsiya, paying off MAGA influencers, putting the entire resources of the Russian state into defaming Harris-Walz, and recruiting useful idiots like his asset Jill Stein, who has extensive Russian ties and only pops up every four years for idiot leftists to spoil their vote and ruin Democratic electoral prospects. So. Again. Hard yikes.

So that's the quick rundown of the people who are vested in Trump and Project 2025's success and why, and as you can see, while they're all different, they're all terrible. But yes: that really is a very, very small group of people, relatively speaking. And a vote for anyone except Kamala Harris and Tim Walz is a vote to empower them and also to ensure that you will never have the chance to vote again, due to living in an authoritarian fascist regime. Choose wisely.

[wannaeatramyeon]

PLEASE MORE OF THE HOTUB MEETING THINGS ITS SO FUNNY AND I LOVE UR WORK FOR LOOKISM

Hey Anon! I responded to the other anon but I got inspired to write more crack. What is continuity, you ask? Well who the hell knows.

Men of Lookism: Bathhouse Meeting Part 3... with Guests

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4: Women of Lookism

What is this, a crossover episode?

As more naked bodies file in, the tension could be cut with a knife.

The establishment was supposed to close off the bathhouse for the rest of the night. Any further admittance being strictly forbidden. This has never happened before, there must be some scheduling mistake.

Even with the fights and squabbling breaking out from before, the easy air was no longer.

All eyes are on the men entering.

Recognition dawns.

Turns out, they are not out of place here.

Gun Park makes the first move.

"Warai Oni," he bows, "We finally meet."

Baek Seongjun returns the greeting with reverence, "Shiro Oni."

"The fuck is wrong with your eyes?" A rude voice cuts through.

"Taehoon!" Yoo Hobin scolds under his breath, elbowing him swiftly in the stomach. He'd much rather face the wrath of Taehoon, who would likely just kick him a few times, than the infamous Gun Park, who would probably murder him. "Don't you know who that is?!"

"Why the fuck would I know?" Seong Taehoon does indeed throw a kick at Hobin, who manages to jump out of the way in time. How dare that little asshole elbow him.

"That's Gun Park!" Snapper is practically vibrating with excitement to be in the same place as him. "He was voted most popular by a fricking HUGE margin!"

Gun smirks at the last part but of course his partner comes to rain on his parade.

"So what? His eyes are freaky, aren't they?" Goo Kim teases, materialising next to Taehoon and resting his head on his shoulder. "He's so ugly."

"Get off!" Goo pouts as Taehoon pushes him away.

"Hey," Jason Yoon nudges Johan Seong, "There's that Taehoon. Do you think we should say hi?"

Johan doesn't bother to look, making a move to get out of the water anyway. "Whatever. Any crossover was years ago."

"So what's your backstory?" Baek Hangyul asks the man sitting to his right.

"Nothing interesting," Jinho shrugs. "I'm just crazy."

"Same." Hangyul smiles at him, having found a kindred spirit.

Seo Haesu studies the menu on the wall, mind never too far from food, and wondering what he should eat next.

"Hi," he greets the guy now next to him, eyes also scanning the menu.

Johan looks over and nods.

"Welcome to the Sad Boy Simp Club!" Ryuhei throws his arm around Kim Munseong.

"Sup," Zack Lee says, joined by Xiaolong and Warren Chae.

"I... guess that's me." Munseong grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Can I join?" Wangguk overhears, thinking that he deserves at least an honorary membership.

Confusion paints Munseong's face. "I thought you and Rumi...?"

"Sort of. It's all very rushed. No one's satisfied-"

Xiaolong suddenly breaks off from the group "Sorry, excuse me!" having spotted someone in the distance.

Ji Yeonwoo feels strangely exposed as he walks nude into the room. Not that he's shy, but he feels vulnerable. Like someone is constantly watching. He heads for the water as quickly as he can, wanting to cover up.

Mangi relaxes in the water as Yeonwoo settles next to him.

Two bald heads belonging to Jerry Kwon and Brad Lee catches his eye. He smiles to himself, comforted by the sight of his bald brethren.

A set of doppelgangers meet up.

"Baek Seongjun!" Xiaolong calls out. The other blue haired man smiles politely at him.

"I'm sorry for stealing your design," Xiaolong, contrite, executes a 90 degree bow.

"Don't worry," Seongjun dismisses any concern or ill-will, "It's not your fault. Besides, I'm dead."

From afar, Eugene keeps a close eye on Yeonwoo, observing him from the moment the latter walked in. Almost a doppelganger of his own if his growth spurt would kick in and if he could put on 30lb of muscle.

Goddamnit. He wants a glow-up too.

[writingwithciara]

Love Boat ~Cam Cameron~

summary: cam takes the internship on the boat but before he leaves, y/n has something important to tell him

word count: 1.4k

pairing: cam cameron x bestfriend!reader

notes: okay so cam was the absolute sweetest person ever. i saw some people looking for some cam fluff so i decided to write some. this is a best friends to lovers prompt because that’s truly the best trope

masterlist

Most people dream about owning a beach house and staying there year round but very few people actually can say that’s what they do. Y/n lives in one year round. And to her, the best part is not being on the beach. No. It’s having her best friend live close by.

Cam was one of the only people who understood her completely. Their relationship was an open book and that was something they both loved about it. It was easy for them.

The only secret that was being kept was Cam’s. He was offered a summer internship on the whale-watching boat but didn’t know how to tell y/n without upsetting her. It was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. It became even harder when y/n came to him with tickets for a trip she wanted to take with him over the summer.

“I got two tickets for this cruise and I want to take you with me.”

“Me?”

“Of course you. Who else? Who better than my best friend?”

“I guess there’s no argument there, huh?” Cam chuckled awkwardly. Y/n looked at him and smiled. Cam loved that smile. “I got offered an internship on the whale watching boat.”

“What? Cam, that’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck and avoided eye contact with y/n. “You realize what that means, don’t you?”

“That you can’t come on the cruise with me this summer?”

“Yeah. I would love to go with you, but this whale watching boat means a lot to me. N-not that you don’t mean a lot to me too.”

“Cam, it’s okay. I’m really happy for you.” Y/n smiled again. “You’re living the dream. Your dream. Do you understand how proud that makes me?”

“Yeah I do. And thank you for being so understanding. I couldn’t figure out the right way to tell you.”

“Why’s that?”

“I didn’t want to make you upset. We spend every summer together and I thought you would hate me for not being around this year.”

“I could never hate you, Cam. In fact, I….” Y/n paused and Cam stared at her. “Nevermind. It can wait.” She shoved the tickets into her pocket and smiled. “When do you leave?”

“I leave on Tuesday.”

“That gives us 6 days together. We can cram a whole summers worth of fun into the rest of the week. If you’re free, of course.”

“For you, I’m always free.”

“Just not for the summer.” y/n smirked and checked her phone. “Our week of summer starts at 6 pm. Meet me at the country club tonight?”

“Yeah. For sure. I’ll see you then.” Cam smiled as he watched y/n get on her bike and ride away. That was way easier than he expected it to be.

Later that night, Cam waited outside the country club for 15 minutes before y/n walked out. She had a special membership that allowed her to use the club whenever she pleased, just as long as she cleaned up any mess she made.

“Hey. What do you have planned tonight?”

“Follow me and you’ll soon find out.” y/n smirked and walked back into the club. Cam followed her out to the pool. When Cam saw what she had set up, he grinned.

“Wow. This looks so cool.”

“You always talked about how cool it would be to sit in a kiddie pool while it floated in an actual pool and look up at the stars.”

“I think the last time I mentioned that was almost 2 years ago. I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“You’re my best friend, Cameron. I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten a thing you’ve said.”

As y/n climbed into the blow up pool, Cam realized he was more than happy that she was his best friend. It made it  so much harder for him to be excited about leaving her for the summer.

Over the next few days, y/n had so many fun activities planned for the two of them. By the last night, it became clear that Cam couldn’t even leave her. It would be too hard for both of them.

The final activity was all day laser tag and the rest of the night would be spent on the boardwalk. Y/n had won 80% of the laser tag so when it came time to play the carnival games, it was Cam’s time to show off. He won all the games and gave the prizes to y/n.

“Thank you, for all the stuff you planned out this week.” Cam sipped his root beer slowly and took a bite of his funnel cake.

“You deserve some fun once in a while.” She nudged his shoulder gently and looked at the wagon of prizes. “Thanks for all the prizes, Cam. Now I’ll have something to remember you by when you leave tomorrow.”

“Okay. Like years of friendship isn’t enough?” He joked.

“Of course it is. But you can’t cuddle up to memories, Cameron. That’s why I’m going to love these stuffed animals. Each and every one of them is stuffed with fluff and the warmth of knowing that my favorite person in the whole world won them for me.”

“You’re making this so much harder for me.” Cam started, nearly in tears.

“Cam, don’t cry. You’ll be back in 2 months. It’s not forever.” y/n was starting to cry too. Neither of them knew why it bothered them.

“I know. But what if something bad happens? What if the boat gets caught in a storm or what if a shark attacks us or something?”

“Hey, you’ll be fine. I know it will be. You’re going to be the best intern out there.”

“I’m scared though. I don’t want to be this terrified.”

“Cam, they’re just whales. They’re mostly harmless so you’ll be safe. I have the utmost faith in you, Cameron.” y/n held his hand tightly. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

“I’m really going to miss you when I’m gone.”

“Like I said, it’s only 2 months. You’ll be back before you know it & I will be right here waiting for you when you return.”

“I’m lucky I got a whole ton of pictures of us in my phone to look at whenever I miss you.” Cam smiled as y/n’s hand found its way to his cheek. He leaned in to the touch as she wiped away the tears that fell.

“Look, Cam, I’ve gotta tell you something. Something serious.”

“No, don’t speak.” His hand found the back of her neck and he pulled her in slowly. When their lips met, it was sweet and gentle. Completely on brand for Cam. He let her go and she sighed.

“I was going to say that I love you and it was okay if you didn’t feel the same way, but after that kiss, I think it’s safe to say that you do.” y/n let out a shaky breath. “Do you?”

“Yes. I do. I completely do.” Cam smiled and leaned back in. He was sure he was going to collapse if he hadn’t already been sitting on a bench. “You know, I think I’ve felt this way for quite some time but I wasn’t sure. Not until I got the internship and thought about being away from you. It killed me just thinking about it. That’s why it took me so long to say anything. I didn’t want to see the look on your face when I told you.”

“But you had nothing to worry about.”

“I had nothing to worry about.” Cam smiled and held her face close before resting his forehead against hers. “I love you so much, y/n. You’re my favorite person. I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t come into my life 6 years ago.”

“I don’t what I would’ve done either. I thank god for you every day, Cameron. For everything you’ve brought into my life. The happiness, the warmth, the kindness, the wisdom and most importantly, the love.” y/n kissed him again. and again. and again. She never wanted to stop.

taglist: @worldlxvlys

[fallencelsetial]

quastion. if you had to give each of the nu carnival guys a present, what would you give to each one? oh and let's assume monies aren't a problem here

To answer your Quastion. If Monies are not an issue, and I can just the boys whatever the hell I want, then-

Eiden: I'm getting this boy every single craft supply I can think of. Fabrics, yarns, tule, buttons, clays, pen, pencils. I'm getting him everything. He's so friggin talented and just an artsy boy. He'd definitely have an etsy or two on the side of his actual job.

Aster: You didn't say the presents had to be objects. Plus Asters got SO MUCH MONEY. Boy could get anything he wanted at any time. Hell. He's the clan sugar daddy. If I was getting him a gift, it would definitely be something practical. And Honestly, I'd probably just get him more staff. He's got so many things he's running, I'm sure he'd really appreciate the help, and especially, that he's not the one paying for it.

Morvay: Similarly to Aster, I wouldn't really get Morvay an object. What I would get him though, is food. He's a bit of a greedy boy. He's always getting yelled at by aster for sneaking out and feeding, and constantly getting overworked. I think he deserves a place where he can relax and indulge in his favorite things. I'm sure there's some club out there that has membership option and would allow him to just go ham.

Yakumo: Cooking tools seems too easy. I'm sure he's already got everything he needs. You know what? I'm actually gonna get him some alone time with Eiden. I'm getting them a vacation together. I'm gonna send him and Eiden off somewhere real private. Do you know how happy he'd probably be? Boy is so possessive. He'd be OVER THE MOON about having Eiden all to himself for like a week. And I'm sure Eiden would be happy about spending time with him too. Gross honeymooning ass bitches.

Edmond: I'm getting him all the porn and sweets he wants. Just because I know he's gonna be a bitch about it. I would know. I'm the same. "No, I'm not allowed to get this. People will look at me weird if I get that" and Now look at me. I have a whole shelf full of those books. I'm getting him all of it AND, He didn't spend any of his money on it so he can't feel ashamed about it. It was gifts. Now go. Be free.

Olivine: I saw a post somewhere about Oli not having any of his own clothes and how they would take him on a shopping spree and honestly same. And I'd help him pick out the sluttiest, most rebellious clothes possible. I was raised catholic. I know. I know how hard it is. We're going to get you so many things with Religious undertones so it feels safe, AND like you're breaking the rules at the same time.

Quincy: Gosh. He's such a simple dude. All forest man and shit. He probably would not accept anything that would make his life easier. Any more modern versions of tools he already uses would probably be rejected with a "This one works fine/better anyway" Getting a bunch of treats for topper might make him happy though. Actually might just get him something SUPER dad coded. Like a Flask/Canteen. Probably would say he doesn't need it, but would secretly use it anyway.

Kuya: We're getting him all the dumb weird shit. Mans has a collection of dumb weird shit. He's like Blade. Anything he finds intriguing he just keeps. I'm getting this man an old beat up Bakugan. "Check it out. It's opens when you place it on this card but ONLY on this card!" Do you know how psyched he would be??? He's so fucking simple. I'm getting him those boxes that show one character in one window, and another character on the other window.

Garu: I don't think he can have too many toys. I'm getting him so many more toys than what Eiden has already gotten him. Lots of meat too. Oh! And I'm getting him art supplies as well! His art fills me with joy. I love him.

Karu: ALRIGHT. I'm giving him play time. I'm buying/building him a whole play set. He wants to be ruler of everything and I am going to give him that. I am going to spoil the shit outta this puppy. I will get him his own little throne room. He's getting his own little kingdom where he is king, and EVERYONE BOWS TO HIM! He's also getting so much meat too. All Hail the Mighty Karu!!

Blade: I'm also getting him art supplies. Art supplies and Books! If we can find some that he hasn't read yet. Honestly the library is massive. Oooooh but if we go to a book store, there's bound to be new releases of something, and he'll read anything just to have read it, I'm sure he'd really appreciate that!

Dante: A vacation mother fucker. Shut up. Listen Child. I Don't want to hear it. Spa now. Break. Rest. Relaxation. Think of NOTHING. You know what? I'mma throw Eiden in there too. He'd probably help you a lot. Just like how Eiden would be a good part of the gift, for Yakumo, I feel the same goes for him as well. And also, Lots of gifts for Sooley.

Rei: Therapy. Notebooks. Lot's of notebooks. Replacement's for any Equipment he's broken. Some art supplies. Mostly charcoals for his sketches. All practical stuff too. I'd offer to fix some of his personal items, but...I think he prefers them dinged up and broken. Has a bit of a comfort in that. So the supplies would probably be most appreciated by him.

[scenetocause]

Could we perhaps have another snippet of climb up to ur lips in oscar’s pov?? Absolutely love the way u characterized her and to actually be able to see inside her brain now???? Brilliant.

i was like 'hmm dunno how much i have written' but actually it's like. loads. but have some post-miami:

Lando is phenomenally drunk. Drunk in a way Oscar’s never seen him before. Normally he has to tap out after a few vodka and lemonades, might make it to shots if the jägerbombs are heavy on the Red Bull but he’s given up drinking that for superstitious reasons dressed as the Monster sponsorship.

Tonight the energy of winning seems to be carrying him a lot further than that. He was hammered off the podium champagne before he even made it to debrief, basically had to be peeled off Oscar and given a can of Coke so he could suddenly snap into perfect mental form about tyre data for exactly 19 minutes.

That’s gone, now. Has been since at least club #2. And Lando is so, so happy and so, so wasted and extremely in Oscar’s lap, arms around her neck, singing along to what might be the song that’s actually on in the club or just whatever’s going on in his head. 

“Baby,” she tries, “do you want to go home?”

Lando blinks, looking up at her with huge, dilated pupils. “Obviously, yeah. But Monaco’s really far away.”

She blames the way she has to swallow a bit, take a deep breath, on the five drinks she’s had herself. Of course he thinks of home-home, not the hotel. The place where all their team gear gets mixed up in the same laundry basket and Lando complains about accidentally wearing her shirts when he looks swamped in them. 

The flat she used to worry wouldn’t ever feel like theirs rather than his, until she moved all her stuff in and then it just was. Or not just, even. Until Lando spent an entire week mingling it all together and taking five trips to Nice to buy furniture she didn’t ask him the price of, keeping busy sawing apart the old couch so they could get it down the stairs. 

Where all their protein powder bottles and sponsor-logo mugs and stupid fridge magnets and tangled charging cables and gym membership cards and parking permits end up in a big reef in the middle of the kitchen island no matter how often one or both of them tries to sort it out. Where they’ve just about mastered making toast without anything catching fire. Where they’ve definitely fucked on every surface, wild and easy for each other in equal measure. 

“Not Monaco, the hotel,” she manages, without choking up too much.

Lando huffs out a hot, gin-flavoured breath right into her ear. “Fuck the hotel.”

“C’mon, we can celebrate.” Oscar deliberately puts her hand on his arse, like she’s just trying to stop him falling off her lap - a valid concern, frankly - with enough pressure to give Lando a few ideas. 

His eyes are like fucking saucers, staring up at her through his electric shock of a fringe. “I’m allowed?”

This. Is sort of something she didn’t know about herself. 

[scotianostra]

Ooh, what’s Edinburgh like? Moving there next year hopefully, from Africa, and after a few quick trips I can’t say I’ve gotten too much of a sense of the city :(

I'm kinda biased, but it's a good place, quite small and easy to get around, the main bus serice is Lothian Buses, for a flat fare of £2 you can get from ato b on one bus, for £5 cash you can hop on and off, the best value is paying by debit card , what they call TapTapCap from as little as £4.80 per day and £22 per week, so if you are one 3 or more buses in one day it caps at £4.80, and £22 is the most you will pay fr a week. The bus service is very good and I use their bustracker, find it on Google Play "My Bus Edinburgh" The vast majority of Museums and Art Galleries are free, only charges tend to be if there are special exhibitions, like The National Museum of Scotland had a Doctor Who exhibition last year. There are two main train stations, Waverley and Haymarket, and several small ones and stops.

Most people don't realise that Edinburgh and the surrounding areas have some great beaches, Portobello is the best in the city, ad has plenty of places to eat and drink at there. Cramond Beachis a mecca for dog walkers, there is a Causeway there where you can explore Cramond Island, just watch the tide times. There are plenty of parks and green spaces, the city is officially the greenest city in the UK, with almost half the city (49.2%) being classed as 'green space'.

If you are relatively fit there are plenty hills to climb to get great views, some are very easy, Calton Hill, Corstorphine to name but two. Arthur's Seat offers different routes to the summit of varying difficulty, but you can actually drive so far up and just make the easy climb to the top, there are three man made "Lochs" around Arthur's Seat, if you're lucky you will see Otters at Dunsapie, Duddingston and St Margarets have plenty swas and ducks. For more serious walkers the Pentland Hills are a great place to explore, there is even a herd of oor Highland "Hairy Coos" up there. If you can ski, there is a dryslope on The Pentlands, the longest in the UK.

Pubs and clubs are a plenty, I have no idea of your age as you have decided to remain anon, but many places cater for students, prices vary, I pay between £2 and £4 for my drinks, although the touristy places will charge you up to twice this amount, over £6 for a drink is not unusual.

Of course we have the Festival, well there are several throughout the year, Edinburgh gets the tag of Festival City at times. The main one is in August and the population of Edinburgh is said to double in the time, licensed premises are automatically given an extension to their opening hours, some open to 5 in the morning.

It's a safe city  with a low crime rate, but as with other places you have to be aware of your own safety. If you plan on taking in the paid attractions The Castle wil set you back about £20, as will The Palace of Holyrood House. Opposite the Palace is The Scottish Parliament, you can visit thisfor free and sit in while it is in session. If you are planning on venturing around Scotland and like your history I recommend a membership of Historic Scotland, again I don't know your age, but prices start at under £3 a month and are less than a fiver for adults over 24. National Trust of Scotland also offer meberships from £3.35 to £5.80.

Can't really think of much more to put for now, perhaps my followers can make suggestions, or ask questions?

Oh and pack your umbrella get a waterproof jacket, even in summer we can get some heavy showers, naturally you will be aware it can get cold as well, invest in a decent winter jacket and layers to keep warm.

I hope this has been helpful.

[notmorbid]

the committed, pt. 2.

dialogue prompts from the committed by viet thanh nguyen.

how long have you been practicing that trick?

what makes you think i'm interested in going to heaven?

i'm always the problem.

the court of public opinion is not a real court.

if you listened, maybe you'd learn.

you think you're so smart, don't you?

i don't want your forgiveness.

you don't have to want my forgiveness. i'm just giving it to you.

i'm not sorry. hell, i'd do it again.

i need no nation but my imagination.

you're in a world of shit now.

this is not a country club. you can't just quit your membership and walk away.

a lack of a sense of humor is the greatest lack of all.

don't you see how much harder it is to do nothing, rather than something?

if everybody just did nothing, then nothing would happen.

i was wrong about you.

i knew you were still alive.

maybe you could take your finger off the trigger?

just take ___ and get out.

you know, we kind of make a great team.

what a spell you cast.

are you happy?

we all have to move on, but that doesn't mean you have to forget.

congratulations, you bastard. you're a father.

what do normal people say in a situation like this?

have i taught you nothing?

you deserve to make up your own mind.

love or death: what's the difference?

what took you so long? i've been waiting for you.

it's just a joke. take it easy.

you've been acting weird.

you don't get to ask questions.

have you looked in the mirror recently? really looked?

i wanted you to find me. why do you think i came here?

we have unfinished business. it's just not the business you think.

i believed i was doing the right thing.

it's time to do what has to be done.

there is no way to avoid the void.

where did you say you were from, again?

i didn't create the absurdity in this world, i just see it.

aren't you supposed to be defending me?

i'm the healthiest i've ever been, and i hate it.

you can't forgive the unforgivable unless you confront it.

forgive? who is there to forgive me?

who am i to ask for forgiveness?

for the record, please clarify.

i don't see what's so funny about it.

life is not the most important thing. principles are.

nothing is sacred, and nothing is everywhere.

i thought i had nothing to lose, but i was so very wrong.

[lexsang]

Can I ask what your take is on Sebastiaan and Sabretooth? I don't really know anything about the established groups beyond House Kheperu.

Sorry for the wait. Life and work have both been busy, and I also wanted to do some more research so that this could be more than just my opinions. But here we are!

So first of all, my opinions of Father Sebastiaan are mixed. I don't like the way that he does things, I don't think they are inclusive or representative of the whole community, but I also recognize that, as one of the biggest names in the community, he has done a lot to make the community what it is today, for better or for worse.

Sometimes people ask where to start with learning psychic vampirism, and the answer almost universally is Michelle Belanger's Psychic Vampire Codex, but Father Sebastiaan also has a number of books that are helpful too. However, all books on vampirism are either based on the writer's personal experience with it, which varies greatly, or their group's dogma, which can be misleading. It can be easy to read any of these books and believe the author knows exactly what they are talking about, the history of vampirism, etc. They don't, they only have a part of the whole picture, and Father Sebastiaan's part is entirely exclusionary of the sanguinarian experience. Without fail, in every one of his books, there is a section devoted to how sanguinarian vampirism is basically a sin in his eyes. His opinion is always rooted in how he believes that it is a guarantee for disease and in his own words "blood drinking is the most highly dangerous activity you can do" (From the end of this short vice documentary called 'The Real Vampires of 'True Blood'?' [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XmdsiyjbT0]). I can understand how people coming from an psychic/magical vampirism perspective see blood vampirism as a lesser choice. They see the act of drinking blood as a roundabout way to take in the life energy that is in the blood, so they see taking that energy in through psychic feeding as a better way to do it. That's not a problem, but the way that Father Sebastiaan does it has been a large factor that has led to the schism in the community, the ridiculous, elitist ideas coming from people on both sides, that only one of these vampiric experiences is the 'true' vampiric experience. And if he actually knew anyone from the sanguinarian side of things, he would quickly see how careful we are. We know that blood can carry diseases, so we test, and we communicate with our donors, easy.

I also personally have a problem with how his house, the Sabretooth Clan, deals with membership. In his own words, from his own site, he says that "Sabretooths are individuals that share the common experience of having had fangs made for them by Father Sebastiaan, which is known as the Rite of Transformation". And this I think is where the big issue, as well as the misunderstanding is. With other psychic vampire groups, like House Kheperu, vampirism is still something that awakens within you. It isn't a choice. That is and has always been one of the things that has made me feel so close to others that share my experiences. It is great to feel the good that vampirism can bring, but the part that makes me feel deeply connected to other sanguinarian, hybrid, and psychic vampires is that we all suffer in a way that no one else does. I can relate to that suffering and I can help others through it. To me personally, a receipt from a purchase of fangs from a guy in a cowboy hat that always feels the need to mention that fangs, a symbol that is, to me, synonymous with the mouth watering hunger I feel for blood and all of the pain I have gone through to see my own vampirism as a blessing rather than insanity, are a great sex toy, being the thing that gets you into his club, is an insult (that sentence feels like a train wreck, but hopefully it makes sense). I could go on about this forever, but overall, the way that he not only looks down on blood drinkers himself, but forces others to do the same, is disgusting. We didn't all bleed so much to be seen as less than others.

And I am no psychologist, but I do feel like I know where this elitism might stem from. We all know that White Wolf, the tabletop RPG company that developed Vampire: The Masquerade, had a large impact on the beginning of the community. Many vampires met through VTM when it became popular, including Michelle Belanger. Fantastic, a fun IP that has a few things we can sort of relate to in it, which gives the opportunity for people like us to have a fighting chance at finding others who might be able to understand us. But with VTM came a fantasy of big underground vampire houses with hierarchies, territory, etc. and that fantasy mixed with reality for some, it still does. Check out this documentary, called "World of Darkness" which can be found for free on YouTube for a deeper look into VTM, it doesn't directly mention the real vampire community, but sections of it are connected to the way that our communities started [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZbwivA3uj8].

And this idea of the vampiric delusion of nobility isn't just an idea that comes from research. When I was living in Arizona, I started really looking for community, meet up groups, anything. I found one other vampire that was living fairly close, and we joined out efforts trying to find or create a meetup group for the Phoenix area. I looked a number of times for established groups in the Phoenix area, but the little I did find wasn't active anymore. After a decent bit of looking, we were contacted by a group in the area, and instead of a welcome, a hello, or any kind of greeting I had come to expect that people suddenly meeting other people they have things in common with would give, we were told to stop trying to create a meetup group because they were the local house and we were infringing on their territory. Lunatic behaviour. Maybe if we were a part of their court system, that would make sense, but we weren't. In no world is one group of adults under the law of another just because they said so. It was basically kindergarten playground rules. I yearn for a world where, when you visit a city, you can contact the court there and find some connections. If someone is available, maybe you can go out for lunch, or they can show you around. We are all the same, psychic, sanguinarian, or otherwise, right? We have something that ties us together.

In all honesty, I don't mind the pageantry, the hierarchies (in moderation and for sensible reasons), or some of the flowery language. What I do mind is the misuse of these things, and large houses seemingly doing nothing to support their communities other than throwing events. Events can be fun, but 'vampire balls' seem to have become the face of the community and all we do. There are no teaching resources, there are no networks of butchers that might be able to supply clean animal blood, there is no effort to further knowledge, especially not in the realm of sanguinarian vampirism (luckily we have The Red Cellar and the Black Books).

This is probably long enough as is, and I could clearly go on a while longer, so my biggest problem with Father Sebastiaan is that he is seemingly always present for the things that have created rifts in the community, and distorted our use of community. And I'm fully within my rights to hate someone who looks at me and others like me, who have been so good and kind, as lesser, and filthy. I appreciate that he helped build the vampire community into what it is today, but we need people who are willing to care for, accept, and understand others to take the torch and carry it from here.

[rydengg]

What gets you more money percentage wise if we're buying /subscribing

the differences in percentages are honestly so small that it isn’t the deciding factor, or at least in my eyes it isn’t. i think every site has their payout pros and cons.

apclips arguably has the best percentage compared to other clip sites and i find i get the most out of the purchases i get because of that. i love it because it’s like the little lovechild godsgirls birthed before that era ended. it only pays out twice a month and i don’t get a SUPER ton of traffic there, but it’s an alternative porn site so it naturally isn’t going to have the same organic traffic as bigger sites. there are a few times a year where i don’t meet the minimum for a payout which can definitely be frustrating and a little discouraging. still it’s an option i absolutely encourage just as much as the others.

manyvids pays us out a lesser percentage but it has far more organic traffic. i almost never miss a payout when it comes to them so any purchase you make is gonna get into my pocket on time. my biggest gripe is that manyvids can feel cluttered and glitchy on the user side. these are pretty easy to deal with though so it’s the main clip site i suggest of the couple that i’m apart of.

it’s worth noting that i have two different membership types. my official website is all of my content created for the above clip sites. it also includes a little of the stuff that gets published to my more amateur style membership feeds: onlyfans, apfanclub, and manyvids fanclub. OF is my favorite of the three tbh simply because i can request a payout whenever i want. both my official website - which does weekly automatically - and my OF pay out more frequently. there’s some stuff on those feeds that never make it to my website since the “club” style sites have different content than my official website, so there are good reasons to choose either option.

i also send out new clipstore clips to all OF subscribers to unlock at a super discounted price when they go up for general sale on my clip sites.

aaaaaaaaand yeah. i think that covers it lol. i’m not sure how other SWs go about it but that’s the pros and cons from my POV.

[vernahateclub]

All post-wedding dialogue

I married Amirah and here are all the NPC lines after the wedding sequence

(captured during EA, might have changed since then. Also no Haru/Logan)

Andy: Nice shindig, Builder. Course, if it was me; organ music is a bit corny. I woulda done rock guitars! Twenty minute drum solo between vows! Dancers explode out of the cake, they're wearing- wait a sec, am I seriously talkin' about my own wedding right now? Get it together, Andy. Get it together...

Arvio: Anyone who doesn't believe in true love... well, it's a pity they missed this ceremony! Even one with a heart of stone would have melted after hearing your wedding vows...

Banjo: Meow!

Burgess: "Though you met in darkness, your souls are on in the Light..." Pretty good, huh! Heh, well. Not mine. Deacon of Meidi! But it totally reminded me of you two! You shine brighter than like... all the stars combined!

Catori: If your marriage was a business, I'd invest every last penny! Here's to wishing you many years of happiness.

Coco: Coo! Coo!

Cooper: Welcome to the club, builder! The marriage club! Now, it's not an official organization. We don't have membership cards. I mean, we have marriage licenses, which, I reckon for all intents and purposes could suffice as a membership card, but, well, to me that just wouldn't feel right. First thing you're gonna wanna get straightened out in your marriage is who sleeps on which side of the bed... (you realize there has probably never been a better time to slowly back away.)

Dan-bi: Congratulations, congratulations! And now, as this monumentous ceremony nears its close: time to get down to business... that's right, I'm talkin' about babies, baby! Good chance our kids'll be the same age... then they can have a best friend right out the gates! Well... you think about it...!

Deputy Captain: Meow meow!

Elsie: So what was it like standin' up there? Was it more... beauty of this miracle called life? Or more... Warmth of the Bright Sun in the form of finding true love amongst those closest to you? Ooh, I can tell the way you're lookin' at me, it's both!

Ernest: If I ever need to write about the perfect wedding, I'll always be able to draw upon this moment for inspiration. Congratulations, Builder

Fang: I pray for you to be forever... as two swans

Grace: You're going to have to give the rest of us dating advice at some point, Builder. It's not easy to bag a keeper like you did, eh?

Heidi: What a wonderful ceremony... Hey, extended family means expanded homestead, am I right! Just come by Construction Junction anyti- oh, shoot, I just did an ad spot at your wedding. Sorry! And congratulations again!

Hugo: Nothin' like a good start as a good omen for a happy marriage. Steer the course, Builder. You've got this.

Jasmine: Your wedding has been super fun, Builder! I love the flowers, too! I just wish there was someone here taking pictures... maybe that's what I'll do when I grow up; take pictures at weddings. Then you can relive this moment anytime you want!

Jensen: Hey, with this wonderful ceremony coming to an end, it's time to start thinking about your honeymoon! Why not take a train to Lucien! I hear it's nice this time of year.

Justice: Dang, Builder, you're a lover and a fighter! Not many people get to say that! Hence... you know, the whole nature of the phrase revolving around the idea that one must choose one or the other...

Krystal: Ah, shoot... I was really hopin' we could have someone from the Salvage Co. Who could make it through the ceremony without cryin' but... aw, here it goes...! Waaahhh!

Mabel: Oh, Builder. You two are like peas in a pod. Like bread and butter. A real match made in heaven! Oh... I can hardly contain myself...!

Macchiato: Meow!

Matilda: I must say, in all my years, I have never read for a more earnest and unwavering couple. I wish you the best, but can say you hardly need any thoughts or prayers; your love is one that will surely last a lifetime.

Meerkat: Squeak! Squeak squeak!

Mi-an: You two look amazing together! And just think, all of this started with you hopping off that train platform oh so long ago... we've come so far and built so much... some of us building even... relationships!

Miguel: Keep your wedding vows, Builder. Take them home, put them somewhere safe. If ever things are hard, look at them again and try to recall the splendor of this moment. Congratulations.

Mort: Congratulations, Builder. You know, I always say my greatest achievement was convincing Martle to marry me. I wish you two the same happiness.

Nemo: Ruff! Ruff ruff!

Owen: Whew... I said I wasn't gonna cry... Oh, who am I kiddin', here come the waterworks... wahhh...! You two... are just so beautiful together... sniff...

Pablo: Love the outfits! You two match in just about every way possible! Seeing you two... oh... it makes me want to almost think about maybe considering having thoughts about one day... thinking about getting married.

Pebbles: Marry! Marry! Marry! When my ma and my pa gon get married...?!

Pen: Heyyy, you actually went through with it! I was kinda hoping to see someone get left at the altar, but... this while 'magical moment' thing kinda works, too. Congratulations!

Qi: Excellent work, Builder. Though, new to the sport, I'm quite confident that you're winning at wedding-having. I can honestly say I have never seen anyone so skilled at weddings before.

Rian: Hey! Me an' Dan-bi got married here, too! I guess not that much of a coincidence, it's the only place in town... but we've got that in common now and uh... I dunno, maybe gettin' married here is good luck or somethin'.

Rocky: Aw, man... I'm gettin' all warm and fuzzy inside... I... nah, Riast, I ain't cryin'... I'm just... talkin' in a really high voice for some reason...! Congratulations...!

Trudy: The family is the foundation of our society. It makes me proud to see someone like you putting down roots in our humble town. I'll keep trying to make our town a better place for you and your loved ones!

Unsuur: Wow, this wedding is great. You should get married every day.

Venti: I was clapping for you guys so much my hands hurt. Clap clap clap. Ow!

Vivi: I am just so glad with how the attire turned out, you two look absolutely to die for. Riast, it really has been an honor to be here and to be able to contribute on your special day. Congratulations! Now go and enjoy yourself, your grandma said so!

X: I want a brother! I want a sister! More birdies! More birdies!

Yan: Heyyy there newbie! Thanks again for the invite! Say, you're out of shrimp cocktails. And those tiny hotdogs. Aaaand... well, pretty much all of the hors d'oeuvres; I stuffed 'em all in my pants for later! So yeah, very happy for you la dee da dee da, go get us a re-up on those hors d'oeuvres! I'm starvin'!

Zeke: I used to be the guy to pronounce couples. Saw a lot of 'em stick together, a lot of 'em fall apart. Sometimes, only way to know if a shoe fits is to slip it on. Here's hopin' to many comfy walks for ya, Builder.

(I don't know what Amirah says as a wedding guest, but here's what she says as a bride)

Amirah: My only regret is that this moment couldn't have come sooner. Today, I feel our love emboldened by a new spark... I love you more than I ever thought possible, Builder. Thank you for this day..

[lacenvs3000w24]

nature 'n me 💏 (unit 01)

Sanctuary. When I think of my relationship with nature, it’s this word that is enduringly intertwined with the concept. I treasure my relationship with nature because of the absolute sense of belonging that it grants me. It’s easy, I think, to feel insecure in the day-to-day, to constantly feel a need to prove yourself, to prove that you do belong. In this way, being with nature has always offered me an unmatched sense of clarity and calm. Nature Club™ is “no membership required” & “no prior experience needed”.

Of course I belong, because everyone does. In other aspects of life, I think that that sentiment, in an entirely genuine sense, is pretty hard to come by. It’s also so so easy to get caught up in the “me me me” rumination. Getting outside, being in the fresh air surrounded by green, that is where I feel like I can really truly think, and also where I feel like I don’t necessarily need to. The tunnel-vision of my own life opens up, and there is so much more to see and appreciate. Being in nature is being in a place larger than my own life, or than anyone’s - it’s being in the place where everything connects.

Nature feels like family, and it feels like home.

images sourced from Pinterest (left) Photographer: ГОРЮКИНА ИРИНА (AIRIN GORUKINA) (right) Artist: Hannah Eddy

The idea of nature being a sanctuary for me, for my thoughts, goes back to being a kid. In childhood, “going outside” was much less of a deliberate act, I think. Even then (though I maybe didn’t realize it), it was the one place where my mind could run wild and free - where it was entirely up to me to ‘preoccupy’ myself. Really, this just meant being alone with my thoughts, but not in a spooky existential way. Instead, I was free from the constraints of media (TV, internet, even books) and entertaining myself meant dreaming up imaginary and fanciful stories about the twigs, pebbles, and plants around me. I grew up right across from the St. Lawrence River in southeastern Ontario. For as long as I can remember, this was my happy place. It was my own personal taste of wilderness, a place I could feel the breeze coming off the water, where I could sift through the treeline and lose track of time. As a kid, my family didn’t really prioritize typical outdoorsy activities, so this was my own way to seek that out. This is where Mother Nature and I signed our BFF contract.

image (without text) sourced from https://www.brego.net/lord-of-the-rings/horses/horses-of-rohan/

So yeah, nature does give me perspectives that feel impossible to access through screens and pages. Still, I think these forms media are actually what really sparked our friendship. Little me did everything possible to convince herself that no, she’s not riding her bike on a path in the treeline, she’s actually Legolas on horseback, halfway through an epic journey in Middle Earth. Lord of the Rings and other fantasy movies and novels had all the elements of wondering about and appreciating nature. Even now, that childhood magic still trickles in here and there during hikes, ski trips, and time spent in the sun. Later on, more realistic depictions of nature had me hooked. I remember watching “Gorillas in the Mist”, a fictional telling of Diane Fossey’s story, in my grade 10 science class. The thought of being immersed in a rainforest for weeks on end was one I couldn’t (and wouldn’t) shake. Then came my discovery of Jane Goodall's work and David Attenborough-narrated nature documentaries. I’m now a fourth year zoology student, and in the spirit of full disclosure, I have to admit that all of those played a huge role in my choosing this major. As I said, my family wasn’t huge on raising a bunch of little naturalists, so I honestly think I have these forms of media to thank in giving me my sense of place and sparking a lifelong interest in the wonder of the natural world.

image sourced from https://www.britannica.com/biography/Dian-Fossey

These days, somewhat unfortunately, I think making time to get outside has to be more intentional. The responsibilities pile up, we get busy, and all of a sudden we’ve spent the better part of a week cooped up in classrooms, libraries, and apartment rooms. Nature and me are like long-distance best friends sometimes. Even though I haven’t visited home for too long, I know she’ll welcome me back, and the love will still be there 💚

[f8ie]

This is pancit! I have signed up for the Great North Run, a half-marathon that has been on my bucket list since I was a kid. I have been living in the North East for most of my life, yet I only learned today that the GNR is the world's largest half-marathon, with people from all over the world taking part even Mo Farah and other famous athletes.

There are four ways to participate:

Join the AJ Bell GNR membership for £70 for three years. This will secure your place and you get a shirt.

Enter the general ballot for £59 to be placed in a draw. If you are not chosen, they will refund the money.

Run for a charity, which is what I did. I had to pay £30 to sign up and raise at least £500 for the chosen charity, which in my case is the British Heart Foundation (BHF). I've always wanted to run for them, for a special person who went through congenital heart disease, and I've been volunteering in their shops since I was a teenager.

Sign up as an Elite runner - You have to have a finishing time of 1 hour 30 minutes (for women) to even make it onto the list.

For option 3 I've set up a JustGiving page. To fundraise I was thinking of sell my stuff, my mum's home made greeting cards, bake banana bread, sell plants, and make little cat crochet keyrings.

We are all encouraged to join the TeamBHF on Facebook.

***Update for March: After signing up, I was connected to Full Potential, a personal coaching company for all BHF runners. I had to fill out a Google form to provide my current health status, including how much exercise I do in a week, etc. They responded with a very comprehensive guide and a daily schedule for my training. The schedule includes information on running, rest days, types of runs, and strength training, covering the period from March 13 to race day, with an additional 2 weeks for recovery afterward. I used Google Calendar to map out all of my training to remind me and use Strava to collect data on my workouts and runs. I used my Apple watch to time my pace and heart rate. I also used Nike Training Club for my strength training exercise (my favourite is Bettina Gozo and Brian Nunez).

Somewhere in the middle of my training, around July, we had a Zoom call with Full Potential's Keith and Debbie. They asked about our progress and if we had any questions. It was a great opportunity to feel like a part of Team BHF. Throughout the training, we received numerous reminders and updates via email about what we needed to do. Weeks before the race day, I experienced some discomfort in my right hip. I contacted Full Potential, and Keith called me to discuss my hip. He advised that I rest and take it easy for two weeks before the race day.

During this training period, I felt well taken care of as a volunteer running for BHF. Full Potential and BHF were easily contactable and they reply very quick. Although I was disappointed that the T-shirt didn't arrive on time, in hindsight, I should have followed up earlier and faster, considering they were dealing with so many people.

SEPTEMBER: In the weeks leading up to the race, I had recurring dreams that I wouldn't be able to run because I forgot my bib. I was very anxious because I was bringing the car to the UK through the ferry for the first time and was filled with dread about crashing and not being able to participate. Thankfully, we arrived safely on Saturday after a 4-5 hour drive. Had a carb loading night eating bacon carbonara with my family. I was just really happy that we are complete for the first time after 5 years :). *RACE DAY*

I had breakfast at 7:30 am, which consisted of apple and cinnamon oatmeal. We arrived in Newcastle around 8:30 am and parked in Eldon Square. However, I learned that this was too early, as the race was scheduled to start at 10:45 am, but the massive crowd caused a long queue (I was in section J which is the last), and I didn't get to run until 1:00 pm. By the time I started, I was quite hungry.

Arriving in the venue there was so much hype that my family was encourage to also take part for next year. Everyone was just so cheery and we were blessed with a nice weather... in my opinion a bit too hot that I was concern I might black out. I received a free hot drink from Greggs, one of GNR's sponsors, but I gave it to my parents because I didn't want upset my stomach. I didn't bother bringing a water bottle since there were plenty of water stations along the route to keep me hydrated. In my pockets, I had Rowntrees fruit pastels for a quick energy boost. Since it was sunny, I decided not to bring my waterproof jacket. I timed my consumption, having 1 or 2 fruit pastilles and sipping water every 3 miles. Overall, I drank at least 3-4 bottles of water and didn't need to use the toilet.

There were many portable toilets, especially at the starting point of the race (not the beginning of the queue), and buses were available to transport our belongings to South Shields. Fortunately, I was with my family, so they carried my stuff.

At the very start of the race, there were so many people that it determined my pace because it was just too crowded. Some people were even carrying random items like a washing machine, a cardboard airplane, dressed up as a rhino or carrying a model of the Tyne Bridge as their personal challenge.

I tried to mentally document every mile:

1 - Going too fast 2 - Still fast and feeling confident that I can maintain this pace 3 - Feeling a stitch, so slowing down. 4 - Trying not to get too upset about slowing down 5 - Getting tired, so slowing down more but trying to stay positive 6 - The stitch moved from the left to the right side of my body, and I had my first Rowntrees 7 - Saw people needing an ambulance twice, which made me a bit scared that I might need it too 8 - Developed a bit of a tummy ache, considered going to the toilets but saw the long queue and changed my mind

Saw the British Heart foundation bus - (so every charity has it's bus dedicated to it) there is a photographer that takes photos of all those running in behalf of them - they distinguish who they are by the tshirt that the runners are wearing, which I was not able to get on time. So they were not able to take a photo of me. 9 - Left side of my body is hurting and feels heavy, particularly my chest. Shaking and stretching my shoulders to awaken my left side. 10 - Questioning my life choices, wondering why I'm putting myself through this. 11 - I'm almost there!!! There are shower places which you can go through like a car wash to give you a bit of a cold wet breeze which I didn't like. Some kid had a water gun and i moved away because I don't actually like getting wet but somehow he still squirted water on my eye. 12 - Questioning why is this mile so long? 13 - Just sprinting and closing my eyes until I reach the finish line. I heard people scream my name which gave me a little bit of push to sprint. Reached the finish line. My head is throbbing, I kept walking, feeling all the pain in my legs. I want to see my family so I can go and eat all the carbs I can think of.

After finishing the race, I can say that my overall experience of the GNR was amazing! The crowds was buzzing and you can really feel the people coming together to celebrate this event. People coming out of their houses offerings sweets, beer, orange slices and even sprinkling water to combat the summer heat. I truly enjoyed it and I believe it was very well organized and a great example of excellent event planning. (I mean it's been going on for 42 years). I knew where to go both before starting the race and after finishing it. There was an app that allowed my family and colleagues to track my progress by showing which miles I had completed, my pace, and the estimated time of my finish.

After crossing the finish line, there was a clear path to follow. First, there was a water station, then you received your medal, followed by a giveaway station where you lined up based on your T-shirt size (only 3 choices). In the giveaway bag, you received popcorn, an energy bar, and your finisher T-shirt. Then you were directed to the photo wall, and you could easily locate your family as the meeting points were organized by letter.

Unfortunately, it rained so heavily minutes after I finished that it flooded South Shield's metro. It caused a congestion as everyone just want to go home all at the same time. I wanted to experience the Apre-Run Zone or just get a massage but it was just too wet and we just wanted to go home. In hindsight if I ever get to do this again. 09:00 - eat breakfast 10:00 - arrive in Newcastle 10:45 - be in line 13:00 - run! BOOK A HOTEL/B&B in South Shields to avoid that chaos if ever it rains again. One might want to park there because at least you are in the car when it rains but seeing the traffic it was probably faster to walk 3 miles and get to the nearest open metro.

Overall I am glad I am able to cross this off my bucket list. I will probably not do this again alone, but if any of my family members are up for it I might do it with them. I have learned so much triaining for this and in the future I hope to be able to do the London Marathon if given the chance.

[teenpattiindia]

The Best Websites for Card Game Lovers in 2023

Playing card games online is becoming more popular each day. Here’s a longer look at the top card game sites this year, with “Teen Patti Stars” being everyone’s favorite.

Teen Patti Stars

Why It's the Best

This is the top site for many players. It’s simple, friendly, and has a ton of games to choose from. Even if you're new to card games, their easy guides will help you start. Plus, you can make friends and chat with other players.

Teen Patti Gold

Everyone's Talking About It

Teen Patti Gold has been around for a while, and there's a reason it's so loved. Every day, you get little gifts just for coming back to play. The designs are easy on the eyes, and you always find someone to play with.

Teen Patti Royal

Feel Like Royalty

If you want to feel fancy while playing, this is the place. It has a special design that makes you think of grand castles and big tournaments. And guess what? They do have big game rooms for those who love challenges.

Teen Patti Master

Never Get Bored

With so many game modes and challenges, it’s hard to stop playing here. And every game feels fresh and new, so it’s hard to get bored.

Teen Patti Life

More Than Just a Game

Here, you’re not just playing; you’re hanging out. You can chat, make new friends, and even customize your profile. It's like a fun community for card lovers.

Teen Patti Palace

Big Wins Await

Do you like taking risks and going for big wins? Then check out this site. It's all about the thrill and excitement of big games.

Teen Patti Live

Real Fun with Real People

It’s like playing cards at a friend's house. The live feature means you’re playing with real people and can even see and chat with them.

Teen Patti Club

VIP Feel

Become a member, and you get some cool benefits. Special games, extra gifts, and a feeling of being part of a special group.

Teen Patti Yes App

Colorful and Exciting

This site stands out because of its bright designs and animations. Everything feels lively and fun, perfect for those who love cheerful vibes.

Teen Patti Cash & Teen Patti Joy

Play and Get Rewards

Two sites where playing gives you real rewards. On Teen Patti Cash, you can win real money. Meanwhile, Teen Patti Joy gives out fun prizes, from gadgets to gift cards.

To Wrap It Up:

2023 is a great year for online card game players. "Teen Patti Stars" might be the top pick, but each of these sites offers something special. If you love card games, you've got lots of great places to play and enjoy!

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

Q: Why is "Teen Patti Stars" ranked as the top site?

A: It's because of its user-friendly design, a large number of game modes, and its great community of players. Many people find it the most enjoyable and easy to use.

Q: Can I win real money on these sites?

A: Yes, some sites, like "Teen Patti Cash", allow players to win real money. Always make sure to read the site's terms and conditions before playing.

Q: Are these websites safe to use?

A: All the websites listed are popular and have many users, but always make sure to have a strong password and never share personal information with other players.

Q: Do I need to download anything to play?

A: Some of these platforms might have apps, while others can be played directly on the web browser. It's always a good idea to check the website's instructions.

Q: Can I play with friends on these websites?

A: Absolutely! Most of these platforms have a 'play with friends' feature, allowing you to enjoy games with people you know.

Q: How do I start if I'm a beginner?

A: Websites like "Teen Patti Life" and "Teen Patti Stars" offer guides and tutorials for new players. Just head over to their beginner's section to start learning.

Q: Are there any fees to join these platforms?

A: Most of these platforms are free to join, but they might offer in-game purchases or memberships for additional features. Always check the website's details before signing up.