#And yet I can’t use them for my own wank fuel

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

I love the smut I write but I can’t masturbate to it 😔. I’m a victim of cringe culture. Can’t do it without feeling like I’m stroking my own ego.

*ba dum tss*

[capriccio-con-espressione]

Checkered Skirt

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1330 words

Warning: Sub!Hendery, Dom!Reader, Spanking, Cross-dressing, Use of pet names, Oral sex (male receiving), Pegging, Overstimulation, Sexting at work, Hendery is whiny and horny

A/N: This fic is based on an ask as well as this pic (tho slightly altered). Originally planned to make this a brief drabble but I went overboard again, anyways I hope sub!Hendery feeds the lust of the sub!idol community and mine. 

  When is Mistress coming home to take care of her needy pup’s problems?🐶

  A message from Hendery popped up on your phone screen while you are still bombarded by tedious paperwork you just want to rip through, exactly like how much you want to rip off your boyfriend’s clothes, and his whiny messages certainly aren’t helping.

  Be back in half an hour. Stay put. You warn

  😣😣😣. Came Hendery’s immediate reply. How about this?

  A sinful photo then leaps into your screen, in which Hendery posed in front of the mirror in his black leather collar with “Y/N’s pup” inscribed on it, and he is dressed up in a dark checkered shirt with a matching mini skirt barely covering his crotch, not to mention his hard-on. A pair of black knee-highs accentuated his lean figure wickedly perfectly, and the fact that he is kneeling on the around with his slender legs spread wide open, his hand around his clothed shaft, just fuels your frustration even more.

  Fuck you. You reply, irritated by the provoking sight.

  Language 😜. You feel as if you can hear his mischievous laugh even you are a screen apart. You always disciplined me for this, so why are you breaking your own rule?

  I follow no fucking rules in my house, pet. You sharply retort. But you’re right, you’re so getting properly disciplined again for this. You’d better be in your position once I am home. Understand?

  You then ignore his message affirming your order since you are in fervent need of getting your work done as quickly as possible now, and you swear your fingers have never worked this hastily on your keyboard before. Soon you find a shortcut to complete your workload, and in no time you are at your doorstep, satisfied by the sight in front of you.

  Hendery is on his hands and knees, his barely clad butt poking out as he’s gazing up at you with a naughty glint in those large piercing eyes, as well as a paddle between his grinning lips, his cock glistening with need.

  “Well, well, well.” You crouch down to his level. “Whose pretty puppy is this hmm?” You coo as you take the paddle out of his mouth, grazing his jawline with it.

  Before he can respond, you give a harsh yank on his hair, taking no time to force him up, dragging him to bedside table and quickly bending him over, before securing his torso onto it.

  “You don’t whore up while I am at work.” You hiss into his ear before landing a smack on his skirt-covered flesh with the paddle, the fabric buffering the sensation before he gets the taste of the real deal you’re up to, teasing his senses as well.

  “You don’t talk back to me like you know better than I do.” You chastise in between rough fervent spanks. “Last, “ You lift up his skirt, toying with the hem while caressing his freshly beaten flesh. “your Mistress follows no rules since I am just superior by nature, get it, slut?”

  “Ow-! Y-yes, Mistress-ah!” Hendery’s reply is interrupted by another sharp smack plus a lick on his buttock, as you proceed to suck and nibble on the supple flesh as if you’re enjoying your favorite meal, while your boyfriend is already a moaning squirming mess at the humiliating yet intimate feeling.

  “Mistress hnnnghh you feel so good…ahh...”  

  “Really?” You breath on the back of his cock. “But do puppy whores like you deserve to feel good hmm?” You inquire before lashing out with your paddle again.

  “Ah-no! Ahhhhh...I don’t deserve...ahhhhhh!” 

  “Care to explain why you don’t deserve to be pleasured?” You purr while caressing his hot skin, pinching his inner thigh from time to time, earning grunts from your sensitive boyfriend.

  “B-because I...I’ve been so bad…”

  “Bad is an understatement.”

  “Hahh...cuz I’ve been a horny pup wanking in heat...mmmm” His voice trails off into incoherent noises once you muffle him with a deep kiss, your palm lightly and sensually spanking him as he erotically moans along with each slap.

  “Such a depraved little pup…” You lovingly peck him before untying him and flipping him over on the table. “I’m gonna destroy you until those pretty doggy eyes of yours are all glossy and hazy...crying out to your Mistress for mercy…”

  “Destroy me then. Mistress.”

  You then bend down to moisten his shaft with your tongue, with your fingers busy lubricating his entrance before gradually adding them to stretch him. Hendery’s mesmerized, moaning loudly as he’s both serviced and humiliatingly intruded.

  When you finally reach up to unbutton his shirt, he attempted to take off his skirt. “No, keep that on, I prefer you partially nude, looking so disheveled and vitiated…” You continue as you exposed his nipples, planting sloppy kisses on them with one hand caressing the region still covered by the skirt, toying and pulling with the fabric, while the other hand is still busy fucking him deep and slow.

  Soon you are fully equipped with your strap, driving deep into his prostate with your free hand tangled in his silky strands, pounding into him hard and fast. 

  “F-ffuck puppy harder pleeaase…” Hendery pants as he pleads, fueling your pent-up lust even more as you pick up your pace, causing him to moan out even more lewdly. When he’s closer and closer to his peak, not only did he clench tighter against your ruthless cock, but also his sock-clad legs are wrapped closely around you, the smooth fabric turning you on as you can’t help but compliment how pretty he looks right now.

  “Such a beautiful fucked-out pup…” You lock your gaze with his, watching his expressions that are overwhelmed by extreme pleasure, before diving in for another round of wet sloppy kisses again. Sounds of contacting lips and entwining hips are interspersed by a few smacks on his ass, driving both of you insane and nearing your edge.

  Shoots of hot white liquid are followed by a series of broken cries, but you still relentlessly drill into him like a hungry beast ravishing its first ever meal in days. Hendery’s teary but also surprised gaze locks into yours, yet he can do nothing but indulge in the building pleasure over and over again as he cums twice in the next few minutes.

  “Please...please Mistress I can’t take it anymore...you are too good…”

  “I thought that’s what my filthy pup wanted hmm? Getting its insatiable needs completely filled…” You say as you wickedly pump his now ultra-sensitive dick.

  “Ahh-no! Please Mistress I-I am s-sorry for... riling you up earlier pleeaasee…stoppp” Hendery’s pain is evident in his struggle with words.

  “Really? Isn’t it my puppy who begged me to destroy him?”

  “Y-yes I was a s-slutty pup...but now Mistress please spare me I can’t take no more…” Hendery begs with tears that threaten to fall

  Satisfied with his realization of his proper place, you release your grip on his cock and replace it with soft, reassuring kisses all over his body, before wiping away the excess fluids on his belly as well as his tears, then you go on to remove his cum-stained clothing.

  “This is a reminder that you should never wear skirts again unless you want it wild and rough just like today…” You smirk as you present the dirtied spots on the checkered skirt to him.

  “You’re such an insufferable pervert.”

  “Look who’s talking!” You fail to hide your triumph behind your feigned indignation in your tone, before ditching those clothings in the laundry bin and returning to cuddle with Hendery back on the bed.

  Though there is total silence between you, your now tired boy’s arm is wrapped around your waist the whole time before he finally drifts off to sleep, leaving you mesmerised in thoughts of how lucky you are to have a man that is so compatible with you as your boyfriend.  

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Werewolf Creature!Fic

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Embers by shiftylinguini Rated:  Explicit Words:  41216 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, First Time, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Omega Harry Potter, Werewolves, Heat Companion Harry Potter, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Masturbation, Knotting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Scent Marking, Scent Kink, Come Marking, Dirty Talk, sexual negotiation, H/D Career Fair 2017 Summary:  Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Heart Like Neon by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill) Rated:  Explicit Words:  41103 Tags: Sex Work, Sex worker Harry Potter, Rentboys, rentboy Harry potter, Past Harry/Ginny - Freeform, past Draco/Theo, Harry/OMC - Freeform, Trans Male Character, Trans Female Character, Switching, Transphobia, Tattoos, hung harry, POV Alternating, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Rimming, Comeplay, Watersports, Duelling, Facials Summary:  Bored of being The Chosen One, Harry discovers he rather likes sex and becomes a professional. He’s good at it, and part of why is that he can read people. Not minds, not Legilimens, but their whole self, and he can give them what they don’t even know they want. Enter Draco fucking Malfoy, enigma to everyone, including himself. Harry can’t help but want to break into him, to figure him out. And Draco, thinking he’ll fuck Potter on a lark, has no idea what he’s in for. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Who we are in the shadows by Quicksilvermaid Rated:  Explicit Words:  99714 Tags: Dubious Consent, werewolf instincts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, child trafficking, Brief Claustrophobia, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Past minor character death, Past Child Death, Bigotry & Prejudice, prejudice against werewolves, internalized prejudice, Murder, Stabbing, Poison, Hallucinations, Creature Fic, Werewolf Harry, Werewolves, Auror Harry Potter, Case Fic, Masturbation, wanking, werewolf attack, Aural Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Biting, Marking, Claiming, Scenting, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Edging, Secrets, Lies, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Loyalty, Loyalty Bond, Bonding, Angst, Domestic, Falling In Love, Enemies to Lovers, Self-Acceptance, Emotional Growth, Angst with a Happy Ending, References to Auror Brutality, H/D Erised 2019, Comeplay, Wall Sex, sex without lube, Identity Porn, Secret Identity Summary:  What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Elusive Mate by 0idontknow0 Rated:  Explicit Words:  25786 Tags: Rating: NC17, Fanart, Creature Fic Summary:  Harry had done it (a) to save lives and (b) because the idea of him being Malfoy’s mate was clearly ridiculous, but now he had to tell Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Finding A Place To Call Home by marysiak Rated:  Explicit Words:  54747 Tags: Alternate Universe, Creature Fic, Werewolves, Post-Hogwarts, Rough Sex, Top Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry Summary:  Feeling directionless after the war, Harry is unexpectedly torn out of his own universe and thrust into another, where he must hide out with Remus Lupin, Teddy and Draco Malfoy as Severus Snape and Hermione try to find a way to send him home and save both his and his unwitting doppelganger's lives. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 as much a light as a flame by p1013 Rated:  Explicit Words:  6303 Tags: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Mating Rituals, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Knotting, Scent Kink, Mating Bond, Outdoor Sex, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Art, Claiming, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary:  His mother paints a wolf on his chest, its eyes bracketing his heart, and its muzzle pointed towards his groin. His aunt fills in the spaces around his waist and ribs with symbols he's lost the meaning of in the wash of whatever plant had been mixed in with the steam. They move after her brush leaves his skin, turning from incomprehensible marks to his name to wolf to home to hunt and then back to misunderstanding again. His legs are painted in patterned bands, starting from his ankles and ending at his upper thighs. His groin is left unmarked, the pale and empty skin meant to leave no doubt of the Claim once he makes it. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Burning the Ground by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill), traintracks Rated:  Explicit Words:  10256 Tags: A/B/O-ish dynamic, Were-Creatures, Knotting, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Bondage, Blow Jobs, sex on the floor, Rimming, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Mildly Dubious Consent Summary:  "Strap him down," someone said, and Harry felt the rage thicken inside him -- the viscous fear. Magical bindings pulled taut around his wrists . . . He felt a wand touch his arm and then a sharp bite as something punctured the skin, and a sweet, cool tonic rushed his veins. His breathing slowed. His eyelids drooped. The ceiling went grey and dark. And then he heard a woman's voice sigh, "Someone, get Healer Malfoy." ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Omega's Binding by Madriddler Rated:  Explicit Words:  49405 Tags: Hogwarts Sixth Year, Alpha/Omega, Omega Harry, Werewolves, Knotting, Fluff and Angst, Anal Fingering, Size Kink, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Watersports, No Horcruxes Summary:  After a violent encounter, Harry Potter is turned into a werewolf. An Omega Werewolf, to be exact. Now dealing with heats and the ability to get pregnant, Harry must learn to live with his new forms and life, while a desire for revenge fuels him. Will he be able to resist his heat and vengeance? Or will he fall into an instinctual lust, and look for his Alpha? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Light More Beautiful by firethesound Rated:  Explicit Words:  81255 Tags: Hogwarts Sixth Year, Dubious Consent, Potions Accident, Post-Hogwarts, Aurors, Returning Home, Owls, Drinking, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Shower Sex, Masturbation in Shower, Knotting, Rimming, Falling In Love, Case Fic, Loss of Virginity, Acronyms, Motorcycles, Christmas, Quidditch, Pining Summary:  Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter's help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn't been enough to dim Draco's obsession with him. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Run With Me by dragontara Rated:  Mature Words:  16738 Tags: Animagus, Creature Fic, Werewolf Draco, Animagus Harry, Bottom Draco, Bonding, Knotting, snarky Draco Summary:  Draco and Harry meet in the Forbidden Forest in their wolf forms falling fast and hard and eventually bonding with each other. Unfortunately bonding in their animal forms doesn't mean they are happily bonded straight away in a real life too. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Taro Milk Tea with a side of Depression by VeelaWings Rated:  Mature Words:  1073 Tags: Pre-Slash, Screenplay/Script Format, Conversations, Veela Draco Malfoy, Werewolf Harry Potter, Guidance Counselors, in therapy, Depression, Self-Hatred, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Morbid Humor, Inappropriate Behavior from a Professional, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  Draco sat through twenty grievous minutes of Ministry-mandated group therapy for Newly Registered Magical Beings & Creatures — then promptly stormed out. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Blood Moon Rising by noelleification Rated:  Mature Words:  38322 Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Wolfstar is canon, Sirius Black Lives, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Adoption, Slowburn Adoption, Drarry might happen at some point, idk - Freeform, Remus and Sirius adopt draco, Remus and Sirius as dads, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, So much angst, seriously get ready for angst, Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Harry Potter but it's ridiculously gay, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Disaster Draco Malfoy, Trans Hermione Granger, Because we don't support TERFS in this household, Yearning, Sirius and Remus are in love but it doesn't mean they're smart enough to know it yet, so get ready for them to pine for awhile, uhhhhhh just have tissues ready I guess, I'm gonna try my hardest to make you cry, You're gonna suffer..., But you're gonna be... happy about it?, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, traumatized Draco, Draco Malfoy Has Issues, Tonks is best girl, Tonks as lesbian wine aunt, Tonks has big sister vibes, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks Never Happened, Everyone is LGBT, because fuck jk rowling, Found Family, Whump, this shit hurted, Parental Remus Lupin, Parental Sirius Black, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, this shit gets dark yall, just be prepared Summary:  Draco Malfoy is cursed. Ever since Fenrir Greyback ripped him to shreds, Draco has transformed into a monster every month on the full moon. The change is painful, and living with Lucius Malfoy might be worse. But Draco is strong. He doesn’t need anyone, especially not Remus Lupin. Remus Lupin might be the only person in the world who understands what Draco is going through—but he has enough on his plate, between the still-raging wizarding war, the publicized nature of his status as a werewolf, and his best friend, Sirius Black, who Remus might think of in a more-than-friendly way. He certainly can’t take in a seventeen-year-old Death Eater—can he? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Howling Good Time by FleetofShippyShips Rated:  Explicit Words:  5819 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Established Relationship, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Full Moon, werewolf/human sex, Transformed Werewolf/Human Sex, Knotting, Consent Given Prior, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Morning After, Aftercare (delayed?), Scent Kink, Fluff, (hahaha both literal and emotional), Don't copy to another site, Come Scent Kink (i.e. some post-sex bum sniffing) Summary:  They’d talked about this, and Draco had agreed that he would try it for Harry, once Harry had convinced him he was utterly serious and not fucking with him. The timing, however, was entirely up to Harry, and he'd decided tonight, this full moon, was the night. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Am I a werewolf? by a_reader_and_writer Rated:  General Words:  1230 Tags: Werewolves, Curses, Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Dramatic Draco Malfoy, Boyfriends, Fluff and Crack Summary:  Draco is hit by the werewolf curse. The healers send him home and tell Harry and him to watch the symptoms. Of course this isn't as easy as it sounds with our drama queen Draco. ❤️ Read on AO3

[thosequeenboys]

Tell Me  (Joe Mazzello x Ben Hardy)

Summary: Joe and Ben are thrilled to have secured the perfect egg donor and surrogate to help them begin their family  Together they share an intimate experience to start the process.

A/N:  The brief scene described is a pre-cursor to my Love is Love is Love series.  This story has been swimming in me for a while (groan, sorry).  Thanks @warriorteam1924 for helping to bring it to light.

Warnings: Masturbation and some related corny jokes and a desire for a family

The desk with sharp angles and numerous charging stations reflected efficiency and productivity. It reminded Ben why he was in this stark hotel room, having arrived down South in the dark, after a very delayed flight.  Efficient and productive described the task at hand.  

Ben’s mouth turned up in a tight smile as he thought of the pun.  ‘Task at hand. Let’s get to it then.’

Ben removed his clothes, leaving only a t-shirt and boxers and washed his hands well in the bathroom. He grabbed the tissue box on the way out, placing it on the bedside table.  He fingered the tightly sealed bag in his backpack on the bed.  He gingerly opened it and took out a sealed cup, which he placed on two folded tissues on the side table.  

He turned down the covers and crawled on the bed leaning into the soft pillows. The trip left him exhausted.  He felt tense and anxious, which fueled more tension and anxiety.   Somehow, this part of the process wasn’t discussed in the videos.  It had seemed natural, easy, when he and Joe discussed it. And, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. In fact, sometimes Joe asked him to do it as he perched on his heels at the foot of the bed.  He watched almost in a trance, his breathing deepened and his eyes glazed over. Ben’s arm muscles contracted as he found his rhythm and gained speed.  His bent knees leaned open toward the bed.  His hips thrust steadily into his tight hand. Finally, his lips parted, his chin pointed up and he let out a satisfied moan as he reached his pinnacle.  Joe was half-way there himself, red and panting, as he watched the thick white liquid pool in the crevices of Ben’s abdomen.  Ben swiped a nice amount through his fingers before he moved down the bed and rested back on his own heels.  Ben’s other hand maneuvered Joe’s boxers just low enough to allow him to finish Joe off quickly.  Joe’s moans started with the first wet touch, his arm resting on Ben’s shoulder to steady himself.  It felt gloriously dirty, and Ben reveled in the fact that it turned Joe on so much.

Yet that erotic image wasn’t motivating Ben to be productive.  Or efficient. At that moment, all their all preparations, their excitement, their planned future  floated away in isolated bubbles.  He huffed and leaned over to the backpack and took out his phone.  A Joe FaceTime. Joe came into view, laying sleepily in their bed.

“Hey.” Ben’s voice was firm and low.

“Hey, Babe. Dang sorry about the flight delay! You settling in?” Joe sounded positively upbeat, as he sat up and turned slightly to punch the pillow.  

“Yeah. They left everything for me when I checked in,”  Ben carefully stuck to the facts.

“Good, good,” Joe said soothingly, and added with a clinical tone.  “You can use the room refrigerator and take everything to the clinic tomorrow in the cooler on your way to the airport.”

“Yeah.”  Ben sighed and paused.  Joe stopped himself from jumping in, as he usually did.  He let the silence have its place.   He sensed there was something else Ben wanted to share, something not easy for him to do.

“I,” Ben started and then stopped, looking down.  

“It’s ok, Ben. Take your time.”  Joe’s soothing tone encouraged Ben to continue.

Ben took a breath. “You know, I do this often. I mean, not that often,” he allowed a slight smirk.

Joe couldn’t resist, “Yeah, you’re an old hand at it, I know.” He cracked up, amused at his joke. Then he became quiet.

“…but now,” Ben continued, his emotions no longer in reserve, “…it feels… different.”

“How does it feel different, Babe?” Joe asked softly.

Ben looked down. “This isn’t just a wank.  To get off.  To have that rush, relieve tension.  It’s creating a life.  My child. Our child.”  He raised his head and looked directly into the screen.  The man Ben loved and shared life with looked at him so lovingly with empathy.  That look popped the floating bubbles and let their dreams settle back into Ben.

“Yeah.” Joe acknowledged. “It IS different.  It’s intense. And it’s beautiful.  Do you…do you want me to help you?” Joe asked, staring at Ben.

Ben nodded, feeling more relaxed by the offer.  “Yeah.  I do.  Joe, tell me.  Tell me how I’m gonna make our baby.”

“Ok,” Joe said, speaking softly, “Take your boxers off so you’re comfortable. Get the cup ready next to you on the bed.  Then let me see you hold yourself.”

Ben opened the cup and positioned it next to his waist. He slid his boxers off.  He licked his hand and placed it around his cock and started to move along the shaft slowly, closing his eyes, keeping the phone propped in his left hand.

“God, you’re so sexy,” Joe moved his phone closer to take in his gorgeous husband.  “That’s good, that’s perfect.”  Joe swallowed,  “I…I can’t picture my life without you.  Our lives together.  And now, we’ll have another exciting part to add to it.  A part of you.”  Joe paused.  “You’re going to make a beautiful baby.  Just like you.   Gorgeous and sweet.  Fun and brave and passionate.  And smart. So smart.”

Joe paused. “You’re doing great, Love.  A little more, a little faster…”

Ben picked up the pace and opened his legs, letting his knees drop and his feet form a diamond in the bed. He found a steady rhythm and opened his eyes to look at Joe.

Joe looked concerned. “Is…is this ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, go on,” Ben choked out with a tinge of urgency.

Joe continued, “You’re gonna make a baby so beautiful for us.  A baby just like you.  For us to raise together.  I love you so much, Ben.  I want you to make this baby of ours.  Come for me, Ben.  Make our baby, Love.  Your beautiful baby.”

And with that, Ben grabbed the cup and leaned to the side, pumping and guiding his cock. As the ropes spewed into it, he watched and panted.

“God. THAT was beautiful.” Joe’s eyes started tearing.  “You did so well.  Just perfect. You made us a baby!  Well, ok, half of one.”

Ben held up the almost-full cup. “Pretty good aim, I think,” he quipped.  “Hang on,” he said, as he dropped the phone into the bed.    He grabbed some tissues and wiped the cup and himself.  Closing the cup tightly, he rose to put it into the frig.  He washed his hands and returned to the bed and Joe.

“Feel better?” Joe asked.

“Yes. Much! Though I have a few more rounds to go tomorrow.”  

“Well, give a holler if you need,”  Joe beamed.

“Thanks…What you said, Joe, it was just…lovely.  Just perfect.  I love you.” Ben said.

“And, I, you. Truly, madly, deeply do (1),” Joe said with a wink.  “Get some sleep, Ben.  Good night, Love.  Can’t wait to welcome you home tomorrow.”

Ben’s eyes blinked slowly. “Good night, Joe,” he said sleepily.

 @captaincoffeegirl515 @laminy @bohrapbois @heybuddy-drabbles @benhardypout

Note:  (1)    Truly, Madly Deeply by Savage Garden

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 3

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e (eventually)

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 3,385 for this chapter (12,653 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Dan has been dreading the seemingly-inevitable call from his family, now that filmed interviews are being uploaded and live interviews are starting in the next few days, so he’s almost disappointed when it never comes.

Surely his parents know he’s in London. There’s promotion for his show on a couple different channels they watch, and his dad has always been fairly good at keeping up with entertainment news. Adrian follows him on Instagram, but - and Dan isn’t proud of this - he can’t remember if Adrian still lives in Wokingham or not. He can’t even remember how old Adrian is without doing the math.

So maybe they haven’t been keeping up with Netflix shit, maybe Adrian isn’t home to tell their parents that he’s in town, but surely, surely some well-meaning friend of the family will say something? That’s always been the case when he comes to town.

After almost a whole week, though, Dan cracks. He calls his mum. It goes to voicemail.

That makes him panic a little, but she texts him an, at work … call you when I’m home x. So, questionable ellipses usage aside, Dan is comfortably reassured that his entire family isn’t dead.

Dan busies himself with catching up on the Heatwave cast interviews he hasn’t watched yet. Patrick doesn’t like to watch them and Jaime couldn’t give a shit one way or the other, but Dan is unable to allow a video of him to exist without knowing exactly what it contains. That’s a control thing, mostly, but he also doesn’t want to be blindsided by a new Daniel Interview Meme that he doesn’t understand.

He types his own name into the YouTube search bar and feels his heartrate pick up when he sees a thumbnail from BBC Radio One.

Thinking about Phil makes his heart race like he’s a teenager with a crush, and he presses play just so he can listen to Phil talk. He can barely remember what he said in the interview, so completely caught up in Phil’s eyes and grin as he’d been.

The interview itself is good. Nothing special, in terms of the actual things they talk about, but Dan can feel the difference in the way he speaks to Phil versus the way he’s spoken to anyone else - comfort. He had been so immediately comfortable with their back-and-forth, only awkward because he’d been trying so hard not to think about what Phil looked like under his nice clothes.

Dan wonders if anyone else can see the difference or if he only notices because he’s so attuned to his own body language, has the advantage of knowing the whole context.

He scrolls idly through the comments and feels heat rise to his face.

Yeah. People noticed.

Lots of comments are just about Dan or the show or the lack of Patrick or Jaime, but there’s more than a few that are about Dan and Phil’s apparent chemistry. Phil, being an out gay man with no partner and a fanbase, probably has to deal with these types of comments all the time, but it’s new for Dan.

Dan shakes his head to try and clear it. He doesn’t want to get stuck in YouTube comments and feel impotent irritation every time someone replies, ‘uh, Daniel Howell is straight’, like they know him. Like he’s ever said that.

He’s been photographed with women, because he’s casually dated them over the past decade, but he’s never said he’s straight. And it never works out with them anyway.

Dating girls is fine - they’re all softness and little sighs and hands that look so extremely small wrapped in his own - but he doesn’t think he can ever be with one for a significant amount of time. That thought is one he usually keeps locked in his mental box, but. He doesn’t shy away from it this time.

Even if he could admit it to himself proper, it’s easier for Dan to just not talk about it publicly. He hasn’t dated anyone seriously enough for it to be an issue in ten years. Nobody needs to know that every time he’s inside a woman he remembers why it never progresses past that.

It’s fine. It’s always fine. It’s just, if he’s completely honest with himself, 'fine’ isn’t what he wants to settle for.

“Moot point anyway,” Dan mumbles to himself, clicking over to Phil’s channel for a distraction. “Not like you’re gonna do anything about it, you big fucking coward.”

Phil has uploaded the video he told Dan about when Dan was busy trying not to stare at his mouth. It’s such a welcome distraction that Dan almost doesn’t clock the title and thumbnail for the buffoonery they are.

IS MY DOG PSYCHIC?

The title doesn’t change when Dan blinks. Neither does the image of Thor, edited to be wearing round glasses in front of a crystal ball.

“What,” Dan says, clicking on the video before any of it really sinks in.

“Hi guys,” says Phil. He already looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “I know you read the title and you’re like, what, but I promise it is not clickbait! As I’m sure many of you know, my grandma had 'the gift’, and sometimes I think she passed it on to me. The question is, did I pass it on to my son?”

Phil pulls an over-exaggerated thoughtful expression and then breaks, giggling and shaking his head at himself.

“I know it’s stupid, but, I also figured it might be funny? I dunno, you tell me.”

It’s exactly as silly as Dan expects it to be. Phil sits on his floor with Thor while the dog 'reads’ his tarot cards. Dan can see why this video gave Phil a hard time in editing. There are a lot of close ups of Thor and the cards, filmed more like a comedy skit than a vlog.

He finds himself laughing along and getting way too invested in what the tarot cards mean, and he knows first hand how much work Phil put into this, so Dan clicks the share button before he can overthink it.

tbh watching amazingthorgi do anything could make a believer out of me, he tweets alongside the link.

Most of America is asleep still, but that doesn’t stop hundreds of people replying. Dan’s really got nothing better to do while he waits for his mum to call, so he settles in to respond to some of them. He makes a couple bad jokes, commiserates with some of them over not being able to have a dog yet, and ignores any mention of Phil.

Maybe that’s childish of him. He is sharing Phil’s work, after all. He sighs and replies to an innocuous question about how he knows Phil. met during this and then he let me meet his dog so now he’s not getting rid of me, Dan says with a link to the BBC Radio One interview.

His phone chirps with a Twitter notification and he taps it warily, still scrolling through replies on his laptop.

@AmazingPhil @danielhowell You saw his face now you’re a believer? He’ll tell your fortune anytime! It’s accompanied with dog and sparkle and crystal ball and, inexplicably, sock emojis.

Dan laughs, the sound of it almost surprising him. It’s impossible not to feel some kind of way when Phil is the way he is, so cheerful and dorky and fun.

He likes the tweet, but responds by messaging Phil - do you have me on notif or are you just always online - because he doesn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire that is Twitter stans. He can already imagine the argument threads about his sexuality that he usually tries so hard to avoid.

The thought of strangers picking apart something he’s not even comfortable with himself is abhorrent, makes him itch, and he puts on some older AmazingPhil videos to calm himself back down.

That depends

on?

Which one is lamer lmao

Phil’s voice filling the lonely hotel room and his words taking up space on Dan’s screen where something anxiety-inducing might have otherwise been is almost enough to make Dan as comfortable as Phil’s physical presence does.

Almost. It’s unreal how much Dan wants to reach through both of his screens to pull Phil closer.

Dan hides his smile in his hand, even though nobody is around to see it, and replies, tbh those are equally lame so you might as well go with the truth

I was on Twitter anyway. I really shouldn’t be, I’m supposed to be responding to emails. Phil keeps typing, then stops, then repeats that process a few times before he finally adds, I should go do that, but you can call or facetime me if you want to keep talking or whatever? It’s easier not to type/text while I’m doing emails lol

And, in a third message, a string of numbers. Phil’s phone number.

Well, that sounds better than using Phil’s videos as background noise. Dan shuts his laptop and gets out of bed to fuss with his hair.

“You’re such an idiot,” he tells his judgemental reflection. It, thankfully, does not respond.

Once he’s gotten his hair into some semblance of order - it’s mostly still straight from yesterday, but it got all sleep-mussed and a bit wavy in the front overnight - Dan tosses on a shirt and video calls the number Phil gave him.

Phil picks up with a big grin and sleepy eyes, and Dan almost hangs up on him to stop the heart palpitations in their tracks. “Hi!”

“Hey, you just wake up?” Dan asks, getting comfortable in the hotel room armchair. It feels weird to lie back down in bed while they’re chatting. Phil is at his desk, phone propped up so he can use both hands to type. His glasses are a little crooked and his shirt is too big on him, exposing his collarbones whenever he leans forward. Unfortunately, he looks like serious wank material right now.

“Yeah, had my first coffee already, though,” says Phil. “You would not like me before my coffee.”

“Barely like you now, mate,” Dan says to try and hide his blush at the idea of seeing Phil first thing in the morning. Phil just laughs. It’s tinny through Dan’s phone speaker, but it still makes Dan feel warm.

“You’re awfully chatty for someone who doesn’t like me,” says Phil.

“I’m only bored, don’t flatter yourself,” says Dan. “My mum’s supposed to call me in a few hours, so I’m just kind of waiting around til then.”

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t had the chance to go home yet, have you?” Phil’s tongue pokes out between his teeth as he concentrates on whatever he’s reading. “My mum would be going out of her gourd. When was the last time you went home?”

Dan doesn’t really like the way that Phil keeps calling it 'home.’ Wokingham hasn’t been home in a very long time.

He doesn’t want to get into that, though, so he just shrugs. “Uh, Christmas?”

“Dan,” Phil says, looking appalled. “It’s August.”

“I don’t live here,” says Dan. “And I’m busy. My family gets it.”

Phil hums, a little disapproving still. Dan has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t say anything scathing, reminding himself that some people actually like their parents.

It’s not that Dan doesn’t love them, because he does, it’s just. Complicated.

“Do you get to see your family often?” Dan asks, desperate to get the attention off of how shit a son he is.

“Not as often as I’d like,” says Phil. He sounds so genuinely sad about it, like he really would like nothing more than to go visit his parents every weekend. “My brother lives in town, so I see him a lot.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yeah, he’s -” Phil cuts himself off, then, and gives Dan an apologetic sort of look through his screen. “You don’t want to hear about my family.”

“I do,” Dan says, and he’s surprised by how much he means it. He shifts in the armchair. It isn’t that comfortable. “Dude, I already know every song on your iTunes, what’s so weird about telling me stuff about your family? They clearly mean a lot to you.”

He has no idea how to interpret the expression on Phil’s face, but whatever it is shifts into a smile as he turns back to his computer. “Okay, his name’s Martyn, he’s older than me, we work together -”

This time, Dan cuts him off. “You do? I haven’t seen him on your channel.”

“He’s not really interested in being on camera. We actually run IRL Merch together, although honestly it’s mostly Martyn.”

Phil explains the business to Dan, who feels himself getting more and more awed by the amount of stuff Phil does on any given day. It isn’t just sitting in front of his camera and then in front of his computer for a handful of hours.

Granted, Dan never thought that being a YouTuber was easy, or everyone would do it, but Phil seems to add things onto his plate that he doesn’t really need to do.

Dan listens for a little while, changing positions in the armchair a few times before he gives up and flops back onto the bed.

“Phil,” he says, holding his phone high above his head and making a face at the angle. It’s fine, really, Phil has barely been glancing at him this whole time. Now that Dan has some kind of idea about the number of people Phil works with, he gets the hours of emails thing. “Do you ever take a break? Hang out with your friends?”

“What friends?” Phil jokes, but Dan senses there’s some truth behind it.

“Okay, first of all,” says Dan, “big mood.”

Phil’s laugh seems like it’s surprised out of him, and his eyes flick to his phone again. They linger on Dan for a long moment before turning away again. Although, to be fair, that may be lag from shitty hotel wifi. “Is it?”

“Yeah, man, like I’ve got any fucking friends. Second of all, you need to take some breaks or you’re going to burn the fuck out.”

“Trust me, I know,” says Phil.

“I know Thor already reminds you to take breaks,” says Dan. “But he can’t force you to. I can.”

“You’re gonna force me to take breaks?” Phil hums, his eyebrows raising. “How exactly are you going to manage that when you’re back in Atlanta?”

“I can be very annoying with nothing but an internet connection,” Dan promises. “You wanna see?”

“No, no, I believe you, and I need to get this done, please don’t.”

They both laugh, quiet, and Dan curls up on his side to just watch Phil work for a little while. Phil runs his fingers through his hair every so often and mouths along to whatever he types. Dan has no idea how one person can simultaneously be the hottest and the most adorable thing ever.

“I have a brother too,” Dan offers.

“Do you?” Phil asks, more surprised than Dan expects him to be. “That’s not on your Wikipedia.”

“He doesn’t like the attention,” says Dan. It’s a half-truth. Most of what he says about his family are half-truths. “But you’re not, like, a stan account or the media or whatever.”

“Technically, I am both,” Phil jokes. “I’ll keep it to myself, though, don’t worry.”

Dan isn’t worried. He trusts Phil not to go blabbing about him on the radio, even with something as small as Adrian’s existence.

It feels a little strange to trust someone so immediately, and part of Dan wants to pull back, put some distance between them, because the combination of trust and a deepening crush can only spell disaster. He’s not going to do that. He’s only got Phil nearby for another two weeks.

After they’ve finished their media circus in London, then Edinburgh, then Dublin, Dan is off to France with Patrick and Jaime. They’re only hitting a handful of international media press, but that’s more than they were asked to do last year. It’s exciting to be expanding this way, to have something to point to and say, 'I did that before I was 30’.

And when they’re done with the press tour, Dan… goes home. Back to Atlanta, where his apartment is being sublet during his summer travelling.

They don’t even know yet if Heatwave will get a fourth season. It’s a bit of an industry joke that Netflix shows rarely make it past the third. Dan doesn’t even want to consider how Atlanta will feel without a steady filming job down the street.

Probably not much like home. Nowhere feels all that much like home, if Dan’s honest.

“Hey, you still with me?”

Dan blinks away the doom and gloom of his uncertain future and refocuses on the conversation he’s supposed to be a part of. Phil is looking at him now, the sort of undivided attention that makes Dan’s cheeks burn.

“Yeah, sorry,” says Dan. “I’m still here. Have you made a dent in those emails?”

Not the most graceful change of subject, but Phil allows it with a small snort. “No, for I am Sisyphus, doomed to answer a dozen emails only for another dozen to arrive.”

“Maybe if you didn’t have, like, three jobs, this wouldn’t be a problem,” Dan points out. “I get maybe two important emails a day. It’s great.”

“Maybe,” says Phil. He’s still just looking at Dan, his chin resting on an open palm.

“What?” Dan asks, feeling a smile tug at his lips.

Phil smiles back, brighter. “Nothing.”

There’s a warmth in his face, visible even through the mediocre FaceTime quality, that makes Dan’s stomach twist all up in knots. He doesn’t know how to handle that at all. “My mum’s calling I gotta go bye,” he says in one breath, hanging up before Phil can even react.

While he waits for his heart to stop pounding, Dan stares at the hotel ceiling and wonders what the fuck is wrong with him.

–

Dan’s mum does call, eventually. He’s been fucking around on Guild Wars and cursing the wifi for god only knows how long, refusing to check his phone so he doesn’t have to be faced with another message - or the lack of one - from Phil. Dan finishes the raid and then calls his mum back.

“Daniel, hi,” she says, sounding frazzled in the way she always seems to.

“Hey, mum.” It feels weird, now that he’s got her on the phone, but he pushes past that discomfort. “I was just calling to let you know that I’m in London.”

The sound of a door slamming comes through before his mum says, “Well, yes, dear. I know that.”

She doesn’t sound upset with him. More than anything, she sounds confused. Like she doesn’t know why he’s even telling her this. Like it hasn’t even occurred to her to nag her son for a visit. Dan has to swallow past a lump in his throat, not sure why he wishes she was angry.

“Oh,” he says. Allows a long moment of quiet to pass, just in case she wants to explain herself. She doesn’t. “Well. Okay. Do you - are you busy weekend after next? I could come see you before we leave for the continent.”

“That’s quite short notice, dear,” his mum says, and Dan experiences a dizzying rush of relief and distress before she continues. “But I’m sure I can make some time for dinner.”

Dan exhales. Dinner. He can do dinner.

“That sounds good,” he says. Another half-truth. “I’ll text you?”

“Yes, yes,” his mum says, already sounding distracted. “Text me and we’ll make a proper plan. Work hard til then, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

The call ends almost as abruptly as his call with Phil, but Dan is okay with that.

im going to see my fam before i leave england jsyk, Dan texts to Phil. Phil sends him celebratory emojis in response. And maybe dinner with his family will be horrible, maybe it will be great, most likely it will be slightly uncomfortable, but at least he isn’t disappointing Phil on top of everyone else he’s let down.

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 11-12

Aka the last of the preview bits! 

After this post, we’re in completely new territory.

Are you excited? I’m excited.

Chapter 11

We’re introduced to a woman named Nor Solis, who is the queen of Xen Ptera, the planet that’s, like, super shitty.

It used to be a beautiful “kingdom” (well, it’s a planet, but go on), but now it’s all gone to shit because their varillium mines ran out of juice. We’re talking constant earthquakes and acid rain and all that jazz, which makes me wonder how the population survives and why they don’t just move somewhere else, but I guess we’ll find out.

Actually, with the new addition to the ahem ... “lore,” and I use that term loosely, we find out that once their varillium ran out, Nor’s father had turned to the other systems for help, and they all refused to “offer enough,” which then lead to a war that was so hardcore that it’s now called the “Cataclysm” and which apparently fucked up the ecosystem and atmosphere of the entire planet.

The wording also implies that once they were out of varillium, the people literally started starving and disease started spreading easier. Did ... did they eat the varillium? How the fuck did they survive before the discovery of varillium? I can see their trade and status in the galaxy suffering massively, but why did their people start dying?

Literally all of this sounds like complete and utter nonsense. 

Flowers ceased to bloom, and real water was now a dream as artificial water tablets took its place.

Artificial ... water ...... tablets ....

I don’t .... I don’t think that’s how that works .......

As Nor is angsting about how terrible things are, some cyborg girl comes in to disturb her.

A girl in the doorway was half Xen Pterran, with smooth, tanned skin, and half metal parts, a whirring gear where her heart should be. A wonderful find, the girl, plucked from the streets of a collapsing sector of this damned city.

A cyborg girl stood in the doorway, patches of metal spiraling across her burned skin, a whirring gear where her heart should be. She was one of the few who had been saved from radiation exposure even after it had done its damage.

Why is their race of people named after their planet like it’s a country?

I mean ... I guess you could call a human an earthling but not without looking like an actual alien.

Update: As you can see, this has been edited, along with the color of her skin. Also I don’t think you can be saved from radiation exposure if your entire planet is radioactive, especially not after it’s done its damage, because once that’s happened, everything is radioactive. Which, on top of the radioactive soil ... They’re all like, double radioactive at this point. I don’t even know what the word means I’ve used it so much. 

Nor flips her shit that this servant did what servants are supposed to do and entered her quarters.

Nor had always loved the sound of her own voice  -- powerful, yet pure all at once. A voice that brought even the strongest, bravest men to their knees. A voice that could make heads roll, should anyone speak a word against her.

More SJM influences, I see. Is this our BIG BAD BITCH?

Watch as Andi and Nor are described exactly the same way but Andi is arbitrarily better because Shinsay says so.

Seriously, switch out “Nor” for “Andi” and that sentence could’ve been more wank about how great and badass Andi is.

Nor cast a glance backwards. The sharp, spiked collar of her midnight gown stabbed at her throat, but she relished the pain.

It reminded her of the pain she would soon inflict.

What?

She’s wearing a collar? Is this supposed to show how weird and kinky and evil she is? I don’t mind that, kinky people are literally the fucking devil, but it’s still pretty weird.

Update: This has been removed and I am deeply disappointed.

But it’s okay, Shinsay. You may have removed my favorite bits now, but I have another 80+ chapters to comb through, and this time, you can’t edit shit.

Whatever. Nor goes to the person who called for her.

“You think so highly of yourself, Darai, that you summon me to your quarters?” Nor hissed.

Why’d you come then, you fucking idiot?

1) Darai is implied to be below her in rank (he’s her advisor), so the fact that he even did this in the first place makes no sense.

2) If you think you’re superior to him, and you are, why the fuck did you come when he summoned you?

3) Why couldn’t he just like ... send her a message? This is the future, yes? Why didn’t he just do the hologram thing like they do in the Avengers? It turns out that he doesn’t even have to show her anything, just tell her something, so this makes no fucking sense.

4) It also turns out that he’s delivering some pretty important info, which makes me wonder why the person didn’t just notify Nor directly instead of going through her advisor.

5) Couldn’t the servant girl deliver this message, if they’re so technologically impaired?

Does Shinsay not know of any other ways to show how eeeeevil Nor is?

We find out that something that Nor’s been waiting for for months now is in its final stages of development.

Superweapon? Superweapon.

Update: It’s now outright stated to be a weapon.

[...] “Then we should prepare ourselves at once.”

Darai stood from his desk, his long robes sweeping behind him like a curtain. “Highness Nor, if I may suggest…”

“Speak now, Darai Uncle, before I grow tired of you.”

If you want him to speak, why’d you fucking interrupt him you dumbass?

I dunno why they made Darai her uncle (though they’re not related by blood), since it didn’t change their interaction at all, but ok.

Darai tells her that timing is important and that they must wait until all pieces fall into place before making their move. Very ominous.

Nor out-edges him, though.

“The final piece is already in place,” Nor said, with a wave of her metal gold prosthetic hand. 

Seeing it only reminded her of the past. The explosions. The loss. The need for revenge that empowered her.

The past was what fueled her present.

[...]

“When we bring the galaxy to its knees,” Nor said, a smile slowly appearing onto her rouged lips, “I’d like to repaint this room. Perhaps, With the blood of every man, woman, and child who has ever lifted a finger against my planet.”

[...]

“Majesty. My dear” His voice was slippery, as if drenched in oil. “When we bring the galaxy to its knees, you can paint the entire palace in blood, if you wish it.”

Nor closed her eyes, and smiled.

She could see it, taste it.

And it pleased her.

Christ.

“The past was what fueled her present” is actually a pretty decent line, though I would suggest changing “was what” to “that” to make it smoother and fit with the line before it. 

I know Nor is supposed to be super evil and all that, but does she genuinely think that children have personally done something to hurt her planet? The war was fifteen years ago. Depending on how we define “children,” most were probably born after it already ended. 

Chapter 12

Andi is sulking around while the Marauder is being prepared for their mission.

Breck asks how Andi knows the general won’t betray them once they’ve delivered Valen, and Andi says that he made the Arcardian Vow, which is significant because:

The Arcardian Vow was as binding as two souls becoming one.

What does that ... mean?

No? All right. Who cares, I guess.

Andi angsts some more about how even if she wanted to return to Arcardius, it would never be the same and bla bla bla. 

Traveling to Olen had become a fool’s journey ever since The Cataclysm ended. There was still the peace treaty in place, preventing the massive Olen System, with its capital planet of Xen Ptera, from attacking the other Unified Systems of Mirabel. But those living in the Olen System weren’t exactly friendly with the Unified Systems.

You’re telling me ... that this system, whose capital planet is dead and whose people are starving and radioactive, is an active threat? 

I would’ve understood it if they had superweapons they could threaten people with and it was a North Korea type situation, but they’ve been specified to have nothing, and even if they do have secret weapons, the other systems aren’t aware of them, so logically, they should’ve just forgotten about them all and left them to rot.

Also, who cares if they’re not friendly with the Unified Systems? You’re pirates, specifically chosen because you’re not associated with the Unified Systems. On top of that, presumably you’ll be trying to sneak in anyway, so what’s the fucking dealio?

Gilly expresses skepticism about their odds and Andi’s response is:

“We can’t think of it like that. If we do, we’ll end up overthinking every move we make. It’s just another job. A grab and go.”

Yes, Andi. Overthinking. That’s definitely y’all’s biggest problem right now.

Gilly and Breck fuck off to check the new weapons. 

Lira stayed remained behind, watching Andi with those all-seeing Adhiran eyes. They’d been together the longest, shared countless stories over bottles of Cosmic Cram until their eyes became as glassy as the stars.

What does that even mean?

And can we stop reminding the audience of how DIFFERENT and ALIEN Lira is?

She’s Adhiran. We got it the first time you mentioned it. Trust me.

Lira says that she can tell Andi isn’t feeling great, and it’s “clear as varillium.”

I get it, Shinsay. You invented some indestructible glass for your cool space book. Can you stop mentioning it every five fucking seconds now? 

“I’m just in shock. Seeing Dex again after I thought he was gone for good...I stuck a knife through him, Lira. And now he’s come back to haunt me.”

If you stuck a knife through him, it kind of implies you were 100% done with the guy. You know, considering you tried to KILL HIM. I get being surprised that he survived (except I don’t, you didn’t even stay to make sure he was dead so of course there was a chance he’d survive you absolute moron), but this comes off as Andi not being over her ex, which is exactly what it is and it makes no goddamn sense.

Look at this ruthless murderer losing her cool because her cute ex-boyfriend is back and she still has fee-fees for him even though he’s a bad, bad boy!

Update: This has been changed to Andi just telling Lira that she needs time alone.

For once, she wasn’t positive what the next step would be, besides rescuing the general’s son. Beyond that was an expanse of complete uncertainty.

A death sentence pardoned. An entire planet waiting for her . But after all that had transpired and with the wounds she still held inside...could she ever really return?

So Andi doesn’t know what the next step would be, but is already planning her return to Arcardius? I don’t think rescuing the general’s son will be as easy as you make it sound, pumpkin.

I love how it says “for once,” as if Andi usually knows what to do at all times, right after we watched them do nothing but get defeated and captured for the first ten chapters.

Andi angsts and has some more flashbacks to when she was younger and wishes she’d just become a soldier like her father instead of a fancy Spectre:

Her earliest memories of their time together were of training days, bruised fists and bloodied knuckles.

I feel like bruised firsts and bloodied knuckles are essentially the same thing, but alright.

We find out that Andi had a TEMPER in school, because what’s a badass female character without anger issues (because emotions are the only acceptable motivations for a female character’s violence, you see), and that her parents put her in dance classes as a way to combat that (wut), and that’s how she met and befriended Kalee, and also why she was chosen to be her Spectre.

Alfie approaches Andi for no reason.

The android AI’s body was see-through, like the Marauder’s walls, and Andi could see all the gears and wires inside its body from head to toe, clicking and whirring silently, like an old-era clock.

1) How can it click silently? A click is a specific type of sound. Who edited this?

2) “Old-era?” That’s awfully specific. Too much worldbuilding! Tone it down!

3) What’s the point of making an android that doesn’t look human? 

Ah, so now they’ve removed the android thing, and it’s just an “AI” this time.

Anyway, apparently AIs were briefly banned because that’s what Xen Pterra used in their army, but now they’re back. Woo!

“Oh, I see you’ve met Alfie,” [Dex] said, looking between the two of them.

“Alfie?” Andi asked, confused by the name.

“It stands for Artificial Lifeform and I added the “ie” to make it less boring.”

“It stands for Artificial Lifeform Intelligence Emissary ,” the AI said, staring at Andi with those strange eyes. “But you may call me Alfie.”

And more stupid? They fixed it. 

And thanks for clarifying she was confused by the name, the context clues were just too subtle to pick up on!

[...] [Andi] turned around and sat back into her chair.

Dex crouched down next to her, lips level with her ear. “You know, you were a lot more fun three years ago.”

Is her chair embedded in the floor if he has to crouch to get their heads at the same level? Great visual.

Update, I can’t find the chair bit, but Andi is still sitting down and Dex is still crouching, so uh. Ya didn’t fix this one, Shinsay.

Andi gets all flustered when Dex is near her, and remembers the scar she gave him when she stole his ship.

Tenebran Guardians were known for taking pride in their battle marks, but the scar she gave him—whether it still existed or not—was not one he should be proud of.

“Whether it still existed or not?” Meaning you people do have technology that repairs skin? 

WHY IS ANDI STILL WEARING HER STUPID CUFFS THEN?!

What she also noticed was how her heart no longer fluttered like it used to when he looked at her. Her heart, the traitorous thing, fluttered for a moment like it used to when he looked at her. She used to love his eyes, their unspoken words. The feel of his skin against hers during their passionate nights,. but 

Now those thoughts made her cringe.

Oh sure. Of course. That’s why you think about how handsome he is and about all those passionate nights you had before. And why you’re worried that he’s back. Because you’re toooooohhhtahhhllly over him!! Makes sense.

You’re fooling nobody, Shinsay.

Update: Well, at least they’re a bit more honest this time. 

Dex says how it’s good to be back on his ship, to which Alfie responds that his records say that the ship belongs to Androma.

Which ... makes no sense. Alfie is the general’s assistant, meaning his records are most likely official documents. Andi stole the ship. Dex never transferred ownership of the Marauder to her. It should still belong to him.

Anyway, this doesn’t matter because it’s only there so Andi can have the last laugh, to which Dex doesn’t even react, so I don’t even know why this was changed.

Dex.

Even his name was poison in her mind.

Don’t you mean a blade of poison in her heart?

In a different time At another time in her life, Andi would’ve felt guilty for her coldness toward him. But that time was long gone.

“Felt guilty?!?!?!?” YOU TRIED TO KILL HIM!!!

ONCE YOU REACH THAT POINT, YOU’RE KINDA PAST GUILT AND REGRET, NO?!

Remember, she’s supposed to be hating him now, so the fact that she’s even considering guilt make no goddamn sense. She didn’t feel bad about killing him, she’s feeling bad that he’s back and she still wants to ride that space dick.

Or is she?

GOD I CAN’T EVEN TELL WHAT THE CHARACTERS ARE FEELING OR WHY.

Now she was made of ice, too afraid full of anger to get close to him again, for fear that he’d melt her all over again from the inside out.

SEE?!

I FUCKING TOLD YOU SHE’S STILL NOT OVER HIM!!

Update: They fixed this too. Why didn’t you hire me as your editor if you’re gonna use my comments to make your book better, Shinsay?

He’d betrayed her, and so she’d betrayed him.

One shredded heart for another.

1) Edgy.

2) Can you ... just ... pick one. Do you hate him and feel no guilt or are you feeling sad and still want him?

And I know what you’ll say: “Oh but Eff, she could be feeling confused and conflicted!”

THIS ISN’T CONFUSED AND CONFLICTED. SHE COULD BE FEELING CONFUSED AND CONFLICTED AND I WOULD’VE THOUGHT IT MADE SENSE BECAUSE IT WOULD MAKE SENSE. RIGHT NOW, SHE’S HAMMERING ON ABOUT HOW OVER HIM SHE IS AND HOW SHE FEELS NO GUILT IN ONE SENTENCE, AND IN THE NEXT, SHE’S LUSTING OVER HIM AND TELLING US HOW SHE’S AFRAID TO FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM AGAIN.

AND WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THAT BOTH OF THESE FEELINGS ARE ONE AND THE SAME AND SOMEHOW MAKE SENSE TOGETHER.

I’m ... I’m tired.

Hearts were pathetic things, too easily broken. The Bloody Baroness couldn’t afford such a weakness. Especially not now that Dex was back at her side.

Edgy.

She’s still afraid she’ll fall in love again.

There would be another tally added soon, accompanying the others on her blades.

It had Dex’s name written all over it.

And now she wants to kill him again.

[casualarsonist]

No Man’s Sky (PS4) review

A while back I posted a first impressions run-down of my initial thoughts on No Man’s Sky. 

https://casualarsonist.tumblr.com/post/164330011115/no-mans-sky-in-2017-a-first-impressions-review

In it you can find the perspective of someone who was somewhere within the first fifty hours of having an amazing time, and I think it’s a good companion piece to the feelings expressed here. I bought the game for £10 on the Playstation store after a great deal of umm-ing and ah-ing and following the aftermath of the PR meltdown catalysed by Sean Murray and Hello Games’ numerous unfulfilled promises preceding the game’s launch, and upon loading it up I found the incredible size of the game, the beauty of its landscapes, and the utterly unique feeling of dropping down on the middle of a life-sized alien planet with nothing with the sound of the wind howling along a desolate landscape absolutely captivating. But, for some reason, after about fifty hours of engaging gameplay, I just kind of dropped it and never went back. If I recall correctly, it might have had something to do with a PS Store sale and a bunch of other shorter games that distracted me…

You know what it’s like…

But regardless of the reason, I didn’t go back to No Man’s Sky for months. It was only after coming home late one night last week and not feeling like I was ready to go to bed that I sat in the dark, booted the ol’ PS4 up and clicked ‘play’ on the game to remind myself of what was going on. The interesting thing is that after giving myself some time, space, and perspective, coming back to it after all that time away laid bare a fact about the game that had remained hidden to me right up until that moment. A fact that defines the end experience for the player as much as its ambition defines the beginning. 

No Man’s Sky is a first-person space exploration game developed by the small 16-man studio, ‘Hello Games’. Having only ever released the side-scrolling racing/platformer ‘Joe Danger’ games, No Man’s Sky was a huge shift from the studio’s base of experience, and an incredible up-scale in scope from anything they had previously attempted. The player awakens on a planet next to the busted shell of their crashed ship. Beyond them lies an enormous, procedurally-generated expanse filled with alien plant and animal life, and rock and mineral deposits, all harvestable for the base resources required to get your ship up and running again. One may find bodies of water, underground caves, outposts both abandoned or inhabited by intelligent lifeforms belonging to one of three alien races, as well as totems that teach you the various languages of the galaxy word by word, and strange monoliths or temples that will offer rewards or punishments to the player for the way they choose to interact with them. Mysterious robots called Sentinels patrol about, sometimes passively, other times aggressively depending on the planet you’re on. The first experience is both incredible and overwhelming, and yet simple to engage with and amazing in scope. You’ll likely spend hours mining mineral deposits dry just for the sake of it. You can sit down with a partner and enjoy the exploration as much as a viewer as you can as a participant, and this to date the only game that my girlfriend is happy to play with me and I with her, which made it a satisfying and enjoyable social experience despite there being no formal multiplayer element.

Once you gather enough resources to repair your ship and regain the means with which to lift off, you can either fly around the planet exploring further and further afield, or take a seamless journey off-world and into the local system, traversing from planet to planet without loading screens, unlocking story missions, gathering more resources to trade or craft components for your ship, fight space pirates or becomes a space pirate yourself or even leave that system entirely and explore other planetary systems. The core feature of the gameplay here is exploration, and it’s important to understand this before you decide to buy, because those expecting to be allowed to blast their way across the galaxy are going to be sorely disappointed with No Man’s Sky’s relatively passive intentions. 

Also the space combat is shit.

What can’t be understated is the scale of the game. No Man’s Sky is absolutely. fucking. enormous. There are literally quintillions of technically ‘unique’ planets to explore. Each has its own climate, colour palette, flora, fauna, quantity of life, size…one planet might be a tiny barren rock devoid of all organic life, but with great spires of pure gold jutting out from the ground; the next might be a verdant paradise brimming with creatures in every direction; another might be a radioactive water planet in which most of its bounty lies submerged beneath a purple sea; and yet another may be covered in snow and have floating islands of rock, and giant deposits of metal sinking deep into the ground. The diversity of the variables is impressive, but given the number of planets you’ll likely explore, you will start to see repetition in the different pieces sooner rather than later. 

This is not aided by the fact that most of the intelligent creatures you come across will be, for all intents and purposes, the same in their functions. Some will give you small dialogue options in which you’re rewarded for saying or doing the right thing, others will offer to trade, and others still will have nothing to offer you at all. Any radiant quests you might encounter all come from a single quest vendor in each system, located at the same place in each system’s space station. And the radiant quests themselves are only ever of a handful of different types, meaning that, while they are useful for gathering credits, or perhaps eventually earning special rare items or weapons, they will never require any large degree of effort on the part of the player in order to complete them and quickly become activities that you perform by rote.

On the plus side, travel time = wank time. 

But perhaps the most important thing that hinders No Man’s Sky’s diversity is the necessary homogenisation of its planets in order to maintain a sustainable gameplay environment. See, whilst the procedural generation allowed Hello Games to create a literal galaxy of planets with comparatively little effort, it also introduces an element of dangerous randomisation into the equation: for instance, say you use your last bit of fuel to travel to a planet that spawns without the materials that can be turned into more fuel, and you get stuck? Say you enter system after system, and every single planet spawns as a barren, uninteresting rock? Say a planet’s climate is so hostile that it kills the player as soon as they leave their ship? The size of the game’s galaxy and sheer number of planets within means that reducing the likelihood that a feature will appear by even 1% might mean that no players will ever see the feature because it ‘only’ appears in six trillion planets that will forever remain unexplored, and so Hello painted themselves into a corner in which they needed to ensure that each planet in the game fulfilled certain basic requirements so as not to render the experience unplayable for any user, whilst also ensuring that each player experienced enough diversity to stave off boredom for as long as possible. The end result is that while there might indeed be many distinct variations in the environments that one travels to, ultimately they are all going to fit within a rather narrow sliver of available options; no gas planets, no water planets, no ice balls, no planets with crushing gravity, and all, after a time, exhibiting fairly homogenised geometry. Looking at it from this perspective is the glass-half-empty approach, and a player coming in with lowered expectations and a positive outlook will find far more wonder in the experience than I’ve just described, but it still remains true that, for all the scope of the project, there are certainly some clear and present boundaries and restraints in the final product. 

And this is what I found myself seeing clearly after coming back to the game following a months-long break: free from the momentum of the wave of wonder I rode for a good fifty hours after starting the game, the first planet I journeyed to was identical to the amalgamated image of all the other planets I’d been to that now existed in my memory. Whilst I had a distinct idea of the things I wanted to see and do in the game I was left innoculated against any overwhelming sense of repetition, but here I was having made my largest jump yet to a system nearly 200 light years away, and the first planet I land on is the epitome of the ‘average’ planet. 

Which begs the question - how would one improve the situation? Because the current release of No Man’s Sky is certainly a step in the right direction when it comes to developing the space exploration genre. Whereas a game like Elite Dangerous might have better performance, a more accurate diversity in planet types, and more engaging controls and combat mechanics, one is limited to a very sparse series of activities in space, and their execution of on-planet traversal is, in a word, tediousandawfulandshit. There is far less to be found in that game on foot than there is in the sky, and far less content overall than No Man’s Sky in total - a game both much cheaper, and easier to pick up and play. I honestly don’t think there is a better middle ground as of yet because the aforementioned randomisation conundrum inhibits too much variation, and to hand-craft a game of this size would literally be impossible. Perhaps we will never get the perfect space game, and perhaps expecting such a thing is folly; I suppose the only change that could have really improved things would have been a managing of expectations.

Incidentally, it’s nearly impossible to find gifs that aren’t from the ‘Queen Elizabeth II tearing Sean Murray a new asshole’ basket. 

The release build of No Man’s Sky was lacking a lot of the narrative and mechanical content, as well as some of the diversity that is in the current release, but even then, had it come out of some dark corner from a little-known indie studio it would be seen as an utter triumph - a milestone in independent games development. Hello Games’ neurotic insistence that their game would be something more than it was killed not only their audience’s goodwill, but also any chance that their game would be seen for the incredible indie accomplishment that it is. Instead, it will only ever be seen as inferior to what they said it would be. And while I think the mainstream awakening that occurred as a result of the scandal is good for consumers and the industry at large, it’s a shame that it happened to a game that deserves much more praise that it gets. 

But I suppose that that is the nature of the current industry climate - the people calling the shots have a dreadful distrust of the quality of their products, and so good games will disappear into the ether if their lucky or be ruined if they’re not, and all because the people controlling public perception can’t help but fuck things up for themselves. No Man’s Sky is the Betamax of video games - a quality product brought down by its parent company’s bungling business tactics. Hello Games told the public what they thought they wanted to hear, and once they’d popped that cork there was no chance of being able to put it back in. But for those that are untarnished by the backlash, I assure you that the game is a huge departure from almost any space exploration game you’ve played before, and any sense of purpose that it may have been missing in the beginning has been restored, at least somewhat. If you can ignore the negative rhetoric (despite the fact that it’s all I’ve talked about for the last two hundred words) then I think you’ll find something wonderful here. Its price tends to fluctuate, and it has gone back up to fifty pounds at the moment, which I feel is a bit steep. But as far as I know, they’re still working on large, free updates, so any discount on this is a steal. 

8/10

Very Good

[dadvans]

how do some ppl manage to curate their fandom experience so well??? like theres always something in one corner of fandom that makes me feel unhappy yet i always go out and seek that content no matter how miniscule it is and i hate myself for doing that. like, ik it'll make me upset and it's definitely not anybody's fault but mine? yet!!! i still keep doing it and it frustrates me so much. how do yall manage to resist that impulse???

idk how old you are, but for me it’s entirely related to the fact that i’m old and have been doing this for a long time.  i was having ship wars in 2000.  still super upset that sailor star fighter and sailor moon didn’t end up together??? a boy will always dream.

something my therapist has taught me when i’m feeling particularly anxious or upset is to name my feelings, and i think that can apply to fandom discourse and fandom drama and fandom wank as well.  name why you’re upset.  is it because someone (in your opinion) is wrong?  is it because they’re being cruel?  is it because you know if you engage with that person, they’ll be as steadfast in their position as you are in yours, and it’s frustrating that some people can’t see logic or reason?  is it because these people usually occupy a place of privilege and aren’t informed by actual real world experience, they just need something to be upset about, and this is the hill they’re going to die on?  because i know when you take away the context of most fandom shit, that’s what it boils down to for me.  

but name it.  name what you’re feeling, and why.  try to figure out why what is upsetting you is upsetting you.  and sometimes that puts things into perspective.  like, some of these kids are just young.  i was definitely a piece of work when i was 14 on the internet (okay, i was a total edgelord, it was a bad look).  some of these people just don’t have the tools in their own life to think critically, and that’s a damn shame.  what you have to do is just remind yourself that while it exists, these are individuals, and it doesn’t necessarily speak to a larger population.  and you hope that they’ll grow up.  you hope they’ll grow out of it.  you think about how miserable and boring their lives probably are if this is where they’re drawing the line in the sand.  you wish the best for them.  you walk away.  you find people that have the same thoughts and feelings as you, and you use that community to build each other up instead of tear someone else down.

and then sometimes you look back on the bad content blog out of spite and let that voice you usually try to keep quiet tell you I’M BETTER I’M BETTER I’M BETTER and you let that spite fuel you to write tens of thousands of words about yuri plisetsky getting railed by J.J. and isabella at 19, and you kill them with kindness, and you put a hand on their cold, stone grave and say thank you.  

[samanthasroberts]

4 Surprising Stories About Masturbation In The Workplace

I work on the internet, so you can safely assume that every word you’ve ever read that I wrote here, or on Twitter, or on my personal blog “Things I Plan to Burn,” was written while I was knuckle-deep in furious masturbation. Don’t act surprised. But did you know that masturbation is a huge, turgid part of the working world around you too? I know, pop that monocle! Turns out lots of people are trying to corral the tadpole while on the job. 39 percent of people admit to tweaking the ham nubbin at work, according to one survey, and that simple statistic is only the beginning. So come (so to speak) and learn what’s happening around you.

5

Robert Pattinson Wanked It On Film

There’s a 60 percent chance that your favorite film with Twilight in the title which also stars Robert Pattinson is one of the Twilight movies. And Pattinson’s star has just continued to rise, thanks to him also acting in pieces of cinematic not-diarrhea. In 2008, he was able to thrust himself balls-deep into the role of Salvador Dali in the film Little Ashes. You’ve no doubt watched and rewatched it, because who wouldn’t want to see a sparkle-pire with a Dali mustache choke-slam Mr. Cyclops for a few minutes whilst sipping a Pepsi and contemplating their life choices?

According to Pattinson, the movie required a lot of nude scenes, which may shed some light on why Dali painted so many floppy, wilty clocks and whatnot. One of said scenes also required Dali to tubthump his chumbawumba, and being the consummate professional he is, Pattinson opted to do his own stunt work. You or I would have surely let Andy Serkis don a motion caption suit and fill in for Dali’s dong, but hey, this is Robert Pattinson. Dude gets the goddamn job done.

The experience was so moving for Pattinson that it made him quit acting for a while, since his O-face had been permanently set to film. And why didn’t he opt to just not do it for real? Because “it just doesn’t work” — with “it” being flogging the boglin, since it’s hard to pretend to have a handful of chubmeat without actually having a handful of chubmeat. Hollywood is where dreams come true.

4

People Get Paid $36,000 A Year To Wank

Obviously we’ve all taken a moment at work to think “Why are my genitals not out right now?” That’s human nature. But have you ever dared to dream of a job for which whipping out your giblets and setting them all a-twitter with various googahs and crotch-related bric-a-brac was actually what you got paid for? Dare to dream no more, my throbulous readers, for the future is now! And it’s damp!

LoveWoo, a company obviously named by a European who’s under the impression that “woo” in any way lends itself to sex and not half of a Homer Simpson impression, requires a sex toy jockey to try out their wares on a full-time basis. The position (heh) pays about 36,000 U.S. dollars a year, and includes health benefits (because you’re going to get a repetitive stress injury and we all know it).

The job has a good deal of other perks, including holiday leave, birthdays off, two days a week you can work from home, and also your entire job consists of inserting things into yourself or inserting yourself into things. Five days a week. For actual money. I dare anyone to last a month without constantly being haunted by the vague scent of pan-fried ham.

They say you should do what you love, and they also say that you should love yourself, and yet other people say “I wonder if this fits in here,” and it looks like all three of those people were the same person in this instance. Maybe that means this crazy world of ours still has a little magic left in it.

3

Freelance Writers Did Rubbing-Out Research

Mark Sergeant, senior psychology lecturer at Nottingham Trent University and not technically a doctor, has said that a workplace masturbation break would be a very effective way to relieve stress at work. This is something which I figure anyone jacking off in a back alley over a stained Teddy Ruxpin could have told you, but I guess the “lecturer” title gives this guy’s opinions a bit more weight.

Read Next

Feel Terrible? These 5 Reality Shows Will Definitely Help

Why do you care what a senior psychology lecturer has to say about shadow boxing the Pumpkin King? Maybe you don’t, but some writers at Metro, after hearing from Mr. Sergeant, decided to put his good ideas to the test by masturbating at work for an entire week. For this premise to work, you have to now get it into your head that these people are not the kind of people who were already masturbating at work all the time, which would be the 39 percent I mentioned in the intro. And what are the odds that anyone writing an entire article about masturbating at work would have done it previously? Probably not worth thinking about.

And so, two writers opted to burp the beluga on company time every day for a week. As an added bonus, they were both British, so the article is full of charming British slang, such as referring to the workplace bathrooms in which they whack it as “bogs.” God, that’s adorable.

Feel free to read the article to experience the trials and tribulations of two Brits putting extra bangers in their mash. But trust me when I say that if you’re expecting anything other than a fairly brisk rundown of the less-than-arousing places and scenarios that surround journalistic jerky-juggling, like an awesome revelation about how a once-a-day crotch creeping turns you into a hyper-efficient workplace sexborg, you’re going to be very disappointed.

2

A Woman Legally Won The Right To Masturbate At Work

I imagine that for a handful of people, masturbation is an important part of their day. Like breakfast or not being set on fire, they rely on it to give them the fuel they need to be productive members of society. I want you to think about that every single time you shake someone’s hand at work from now on. And then think of Ana Catarina Bezarra, an accountant in Brazil whose chemical imbalance causes her massive anxiety as well as hypersexuality. The only way she’s been able to manage her condition is, you guessed it, yoga and herbal tea. Ha ha! I’m just playin’ y’all. She masturbates. A whole lot! She was up to 47 times a day when she realized shit was not necessarily kosher and sought medical help. Now, with medication, she’s mostly able to keep her shit together, but still needs to masturbate a few times a day.

Now, punching the Munchkin a few times a day is probably manageable for most of us, but since Ana needs to do it whenever the need arises, she had to sue her employer for the right to do it in the workplace, and she fucking won. Now she’s fully authorized to look at porn on her computer and tickle the Sarlacc during work hours, presumably after drawing a curtain across the entrance to her cubicle.

Is it possible that you have the legal right to masturbate at work? There’s only one way to find out. Well, there are presumably dozens of ways to start finding out, but they tend to all lead down the same road to your boss either saying “Keep up the good work” or “For cryin’ out loud, Brody, everyone uses that water cooler!”

But seriously, don’t try masturbating at work. You’re going to get fired.

1

An Elderly Woman Teaches Masturbation Classes

They say those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach. They also never anticipated a masturbation class when they said that, because it’s some kind of bizarre logic landmine that blows up in a moist cloud of awkward feelings when you try to consider what that even means. So don’t! Instead, know that there are actual masturbation classes out there, and not just the ones that reactionary douches on conservative news channels talk about when they find out second-graders get sex ed before saying things like “Our public schools are teaching eight-year-olds how to masturbate! And next up, ARE YOUR CATS SOCIALISTS?” These are honest-to-goodness classes in which ladies go to learn from another super friendly lady how to invest in personal pork bellies.

Not being much of a lady myself, and even less of a woman, I’m not 100 percent familiar with the logistics of female masturbation. I know where you go and how you get there, but it’s a little trickier than it is for a man. Think of male masturbation like draft beer and female masturbation like a mojito. You just pull the tap for the beer and angle the glass right to cut down on the foam, but you have to muddle that damn mint for a while to get a proper mojito.

The classes are called workshops, because you’re working that ham wallet like a stevedore working the docks, and they’re group events led by one lady whom I assume is often described as a “free spirit,” because she’s leading a group masturbation workshop, and that’s not something for the faint of heart or groin. Whilst researching this entry, I discovered the tale of a lady in her 80s who teaches one of these workshops. After she’d been to some swingers parties in the ’70s, she noticed none of the women were having real orgasms, and consequently became the ultimate sexual humanitarian. Good for her.

A workshop consists of five grueling hours, the final hour of which I assume involves squatting in a washtub of ice and weeping a little. The rest of the time is literally complimenting the vagina of every woman in the class, going to town on yourself, and then a group massage. If I’m being honest, that sounds fantastic, but that’s mainly because it’s a room full of women. If the roles were reversed, I’d feel quite unhappy having several winded, sweaty men massaging me after they masturbated right next to me, but maybe I’m just not ready to enroll in this school.

You can watch Ian engage in everyday depravity on Twitter, and read his short fiction on his Tumblr page!

One place you definitely hope there’s no workplace masturbation happening is Cinnabon. Try not to think about it too much as you enjoy this cinnamony goodness.

For more, check out The 4 Best Ways To Jerk Off (According To Science) and 6 Bizarre Ways to Stop Yourself From Masturbating.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out 5 Things the Worst People in the World Love Doing in Public, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow our new Pictofacts Facebook page. Or don’t.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/4-surprising-stories-about-masturbation-in-the-workplace/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2018/10/25/4-surprising-stories-about-masturbation-in-the-workplace/

[adambstingus]

4 Surprising Stories About Masturbation In The Workplace

I work on the internet, so you can safely assume that every word you’ve ever read that I wrote here, or on Twitter, or on my personal blog “Things I Plan to Burn,” was written while I was knuckle-deep in furious masturbation. Don’t act surprised. But did you know that masturbation is a huge, turgid part of the working world around you too? I know, pop that monocle! Turns out lots of people are trying to corral the tadpole while on the job. 39 percent of people admit to tweaking the ham nubbin at work, according to one survey, and that simple statistic is only the beginning. So come (so to speak) and learn what’s happening around you.

5

Robert Pattinson Wanked It On Film

There’s a 60 percent chance that your favorite film with Twilight in the title which also stars Robert Pattinson is one of the Twilight movies. And Pattinson’s star has just continued to rise, thanks to him also acting in pieces of cinematic not-diarrhea. In 2008, he was able to thrust himself balls-deep into the role of Salvador Dali in the film Little Ashes. You’ve no doubt watched and rewatched it, because who wouldn’t want to see a sparkle-pire with a Dali mustache choke-slam Mr. Cyclops for a few minutes whilst sipping a Pepsi and contemplating their life choices?

According to Pattinson, the movie required a lot of nude scenes, which may shed some light on why Dali painted so many floppy, wilty clocks and whatnot. One of said scenes also required Dali to tubthump his chumbawumba, and being the consummate professional he is, Pattinson opted to do his own stunt work. You or I would have surely let Andy Serkis don a motion caption suit and fill in for Dali’s dong, but hey, this is Robert Pattinson. Dude gets the goddamn job done.

The experience was so moving for Pattinson that it made him quit acting for a while, since his O-face had been permanently set to film. And why didn’t he opt to just not do it for real? Because “it just doesn’t work” — with “it” being flogging the boglin, since it’s hard to pretend to have a handful of chubmeat without actually having a handful of chubmeat. Hollywood is where dreams come true.

4

People Get Paid $36,000 A Year To Wank

Obviously we’ve all taken a moment at work to think “Why are my genitals not out right now?” That’s human nature. But have you ever dared to dream of a job for which whipping out your giblets and setting them all a-twitter with various googahs and crotch-related bric-a-brac was actually what you got paid for? Dare to dream no more, my throbulous readers, for the future is now! And it’s damp!

LoveWoo, a company obviously named by a European who’s under the impression that “woo” in any way lends itself to sex and not half of a Homer Simpson impression, requires a sex toy jockey to try out their wares on a full-time basis. The position (heh) pays about 36,000 U.S. dollars a year, and includes health benefits (because you’re going to get a repetitive stress injury and we all know it).

The job has a good deal of other perks, including holiday leave, birthdays off, two days a week you can work from home, and also your entire job consists of inserting things into yourself or inserting yourself into things. Five days a week. For actual money. I dare anyone to last a month without constantly being haunted by the vague scent of pan-fried ham.

They say you should do what you love, and they also say that you should love yourself, and yet other people say “I wonder if this fits in here,” and it looks like all three of those people were the same person in this instance. Maybe that means this crazy world of ours still has a little magic left in it.

3

Freelance Writers Did Rubbing-Out Research

Mark Sergeant, senior psychology lecturer at Nottingham Trent University and not technically a doctor, has said that a workplace masturbation break would be a very effective way to relieve stress at work. This is something which I figure anyone jacking off in a back alley over a stained Teddy Ruxpin could have told you, but I guess the “lecturer” title gives this guy’s opinions a bit more weight.

Read Next

Feel Terrible? These 5 Reality Shows Will Definitely Help

Why do you care what a senior psychology lecturer has to say about shadow boxing the Pumpkin King? Maybe you don’t, but some writers at Metro, after hearing from Mr. Sergeant, decided to put his good ideas to the test by masturbating at work for an entire week. For this premise to work, you have to now get it into your head that these people are not the kind of people who were already masturbating at work all the time, which would be the 39 percent I mentioned in the intro. And what are the odds that anyone writing an entire article about masturbating at work would have done it previously? Probably not worth thinking about.

And so, two writers opted to burp the beluga on company time every day for a week. As an added bonus, they were both British, so the article is full of charming British slang, such as referring to the workplace bathrooms in which they whack it as “bogs.” God, that’s adorable.

Feel free to read the article to experience the trials and tribulations of two Brits putting extra bangers in their mash. But trust me when I say that if you’re expecting anything other than a fairly brisk rundown of the less-than-arousing places and scenarios that surround journalistic jerky-juggling, like an awesome revelation about how a once-a-day crotch creeping turns you into a hyper-efficient workplace sexborg, you’re going to be very disappointed.

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A Woman Legally Won The Right To Masturbate At Work

I imagine that for a handful of people, masturbation is an important part of their day. Like breakfast or not being set on fire, they rely on it to give them the fuel they need to be productive members of society. I want you to think about that every single time you shake someone’s hand at work from now on. And then think of Ana Catarina Bezarra, an accountant in Brazil whose chemical imbalance causes her massive anxiety as well as hypersexuality. The only way she’s been able to manage her condition is, you guessed it, yoga and herbal tea. Ha ha! I’m just playin’ y’all. She masturbates. A whole lot! She was up to 47 times a day when she realized shit was not necessarily kosher and sought medical help. Now, with medication, she’s mostly able to keep her shit together, but still needs to masturbate a few times a day.

Now, punching the Munchkin a few times a day is probably manageable for most of us, but since Ana needs to do it whenever the need arises, she had to sue her employer for the right to do it in the workplace, and she fucking won. Now she’s fully authorized to look at porn on her computer and tickle the Sarlacc during work hours, presumably after drawing a curtain across the entrance to her cubicle.

Is it possible that you have the legal right to masturbate at work? There’s only one way to find out. Well, there are presumably dozens of ways to start finding out, but they tend to all lead down the same road to your boss either saying “Keep up the good work” or “For cryin’ out loud, Brody, everyone uses that water cooler!”

But seriously, don’t try masturbating at work. You’re going to get fired.

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An Elderly Woman Teaches Masturbation Classes

They say those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach. They also never anticipated a masturbation class when they said that, because it’s some kind of bizarre logic landmine that blows up in a moist cloud of awkward feelings when you try to consider what that even means. So don’t! Instead, know that there are actual masturbation classes out there, and not just the ones that reactionary douches on conservative news channels talk about when they find out second-graders get sex ed before saying things like “Our public schools are teaching eight-year-olds how to masturbate! And next up, ARE YOUR CATS SOCIALISTS?” These are honest-to-goodness classes in which ladies go to learn from another super friendly lady how to invest in personal pork bellies.

Not being much of a lady myself, and even less of a woman, I’m not 100 percent familiar with the logistics of female masturbation. I know where you go and how you get there, but it’s a little trickier than it is for a man. Think of male masturbation like draft beer and female masturbation like a mojito. You just pull the tap for the beer and angle the glass right to cut down on the foam, but you have to muddle that damn mint for a while to get a proper mojito.

The classes are called workshops, because you’re working that ham wallet like a stevedore working the docks, and they’re group events led by one lady whom I assume is often described as a “free spirit,” because she’s leading a group masturbation workshop, and that’s not something for the faint of heart or groin. Whilst researching this entry, I discovered the tale of a lady in her 80s who teaches one of these workshops. After she’d been to some swingers parties in the ’70s, she noticed none of the women were having real orgasms, and consequently became the ultimate sexual humanitarian. Good for her.

A workshop consists of five grueling hours, the final hour of which I assume involves squatting in a washtub of ice and weeping a little. The rest of the time is literally complimenting the vagina of every woman in the class, going to town on yourself, and then a group massage. If I’m being honest, that sounds fantastic, but that’s mainly because it’s a room full of women. If the roles were reversed, I’d feel quite unhappy having several winded, sweaty men massaging me after they masturbated right next to me, but maybe I’m just not ready to enroll in this school.

You can watch Ian engage in everyday depravity on Twitter, and read his short fiction on his Tumblr page!

One place you definitely hope there’s no workplace masturbation happening is Cinnabon. Try not to think about it too much as you enjoy this cinnamony goodness.

For more, check out The 4 Best Ways To Jerk Off (According To Science) and 6 Bizarre Ways to Stop Yourself From Masturbating.

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/4-surprising-stories-about-masturbation-in-the-workplace/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/179405325132