#I’ve never had the right subscription for it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 month ago

Text

ribbon, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook asks you what you would do to him if he was naked, blindfolded, and tied to a chair. He really is asking for it, isn't he?

warnings: rated M (18+) – JK is insolent bc he's secretly nervous smh; reader is unafraid to challenge him; smut (fem reader, he's obv naked, blindfolded, and tied to a chair, hand appreciation (?) spit kink, photography during sex, use of safe word, m-receiving oral, edging, f-masturbation); non-idol!AU; switches between reader's POV and JK's POV

“I’ve been wondering – do you ask me these questions because you’re bored, voyeuristic, or propositioning me?”

“W… What?”

“Hm? I’m allowed to ask that, aren’t I? Or can only you ask the questions?”

Truth to be told, you already had a good guess. It was just more fun to put someone on the spot. Strange that, even with the certain, ahem, reputation you had, people still took the time to misconstrue. It was tiring. Not entertaining in the slightest. Well, being entitled and self-serving was human nature. You didn’t mind it, as long as one owned up to their shamelessness.

Which never happened.

One could hope.

Regardless, you were willing to entertain when you felt like it. However, you refused to be a performance monkey. Even that practice was becoming obsolete as people realized the inhumanity of it all. If only the same could be applied to openly sexually active femme fatales. Sigh. For this reason, you avoided dating, both because it was exhausting and because we all die alone. Mhm. And, due to your rigid stance against romance, you of course kept finding yourself in long-term relationships. The universe never ceased with its paradoxes. With age came a rare lull. You figured that surely now was the time to be alone. Thus, the universe put Jeon Jungkook in your path, who did everything except for leaving you alone.

Ah.

The universe and its great paradoxes.

You were well aware of his fascination with your freak. He was green to it, too. It was the off-hand questions trying to catch you off guard paired the attempts at producing shock factor to a seasoned veteran that were the dead giveaway. Not that things weren’t moving forward as they normally did. A drag racer was slower than how you and him were progressing. Eh, you always believed time was a finite resource. So, you let him lead you along while skirting the edges of what if. Mostly to test his persistence. Alright, it was pretty fun for you as well. But the next evolution couldn’t quite continue without discussion.

Even nymphomaniacs could have morals.

Sometimes.

You watched his thoughts play out on his face. He was stuck in the mental battle of societal expectations, self-respect, and the truth. You wondered which would win.

“I… Just bored. That’s all,” he mumbled.

Hm. Societal expectations won. To be expected. Someday he would work up to the truth on the first try. He was one of those men with a pretty face, an arm sleeve of tattoos, and few reservations. But one of them was still sex, because sex was an undefined creature that he was still attempting to domesticate to that fantastical mold that media tended to favor. False idols attracted fanatics and fanatics generated payola. The most profitable subscription service was the lies that bound society.

It was what it was.

You weren’t surprised or disappointed by it. Didn’t hold it against him either. You leaned against the sofa cushions, facing him. With a smile. His jumpiness was quite cute. The tip of his tongue danced over his lower lip in involuntary nervousness. He had a tiny mole underneath his mouth, right at the center, that you were mildly obsessed with and hadn’t told him yet. Large black-brown eyes that shattered the tough image he was trying to aspire to but you weren’t going to tell him that. His style was big, baggy, and dark. Today was no exception. Black t-shirt, black track pants, gray beanie. Didn’t even dress up for the occasion of trying to bang you in his basement.

Well, trying to get you to bang him in his basement, actually.

You preferred it this way. It was authentic. You proceeded to question him. Just because you knew why he said what he said didn’t mean you had to accept it. You were trying to get to know him, after all.

“Is that so? Just bored, so you wanna get tied up?”

Actually, his reason was that he was horny. Which was probably obvious, but wasn’t something Jeon Jungkook felt like confirming. He learned for the start that she was not the subtle type. She did not seem to mind making the first move, so much so that Jungkook hadn’t realized she had until she had him backed in a corner that one time. It was a refreshing change. However, he had made the mistake of putting up an I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude in attempt to match her confidence when he very much did give a fuck. He gave a lot of fucks. To be more precise, he was trying to get fucked. And now trying to make her think it was her idea.

It was going…

Well.

Ish.

He knew from their first meeting that she was endgame. He didn’t do anything about it, because that would have gotten him labeled as a creep. Jeon Jungkook had flaws, but he was not a creep. He wasn’t her target at the time either, so. That was that. Over the years as he learned more about her, he was even more convinced that she was it for him. She was clever, resourceful, and unafraid to be the villain in someone’s story if it meant doing what was right. Sometimes you have to be a little bad to do a lot of good, she once said. It stuck with him. He used to think that his one true love would have to be his career. Film school was not cheap either. Money was required for existing, sadly. A person would, therefore, always come second. But, right now, seeing the way that her sleek black turtleneck and those tapered slacks draped over her body as she sat beside him on his black leather sofa, knowing that she was gently chastising him with her teasing smile, and, hell, even knowing that she in no way fell for his bait – there was no one else. There would never be anyone else. He just knew.

Whether it worked out or not, uh, remained to be seen.

Outlook was currently bleak.

“Why are you into that stuff, anyway?”

She leaned her head against the back of her hand with her elbow on the back of the sofa. “I’m not so much into it as it is my very nature.” The tip of her tongue grazed the edge of her teeth. He wanted her to bite him. He could also listen to her talk all day. But he would prefer the biting first. “Personal lore aside, everyone has things they are passionate about. Such as you and your mini movie theater down here.”

She was referring to the room they were in now, with the projector and sofas. The basement allowed him to enjoy the surround sound without disturbing his neighbors. There were a couple folding chairs leaning against the far wall for extra seating when he felt like hosting a karaoke night. He was actually very interested in her personal lore but maybe it was too much childhood trauma dump for this sexually charged moment. She knew time and place like that.

“People will talk behind your back if you like sex that much,” he pointed out.

Not for the first time, it seemed. “They talk behind your back even if you don’t like sex that much,” she chuckled, the oscillating blue-and-purple mood lighting making her eyes gleam. “For instance, I know for a fact that people speculate about your sexual prowess all the time. I’ve heard stuff.”

Jungkook doubted that. People possibly couldn’t be that unhinged. “Like what?”

She mused. “Like how you have a huge dick and are super dominant in bed.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Uh… huh…”

She smiled at him.

The same way a lioness would smile at a desert hare.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be thought of in such a… nice… way. It would be an ego boost if she hadn’t made it sound so objectifying. There was something off about it. Like looking into a mirror and seeing a blemish he didn’t remember having. He watched her eyes rather than looking into them. They had a distinct, sharp shape that reminded him of his favorite female characters in video games. She leaned a little closer. She always wore very nice perfume. Her natural scent was better, though. Tasting skin on tongue and breathing in at the same time, feeling her breath scatter at his touch, now that was perfection.

She ticked her head. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He realized he was slouching and straightened. He was most certainly not leaning forward in eagerness. Or anything like that. Nope. “You didn’t answer mine either.”

“I answer your hypotheticals every day. Humor me.”

Yeah, and didn’t offer to test any of them. He did his best to not feel bitter about it. He felt bitter about it anyway. “I said I was just bored.” Her waist-to-ass ratio was accentuated by her sitting position. Unreal.

She either didn’t notice his wandering eyes or didn’t mind it. “They say the first thought you have is the thought you have been conditioned to have.” Her hand was resting on her thigh. Didn’t move. She had said earlier the glittering reflective dark blue color she was wearing was from a Star Wars nail polish collection. It made the points of her almond manicure glisten in the low lights. “True feelings take a little more time to process.”

His eyes traveled up.

He wondered if she had ever thought about chilling the fuck out.

“What if you were the one being tied up?” he asked shadowed eyes.

She frowned slightly. “Now that sounds boring. For me, personally.” She stuck out the tip of her tongue before adding, “Hate that.”

He leaned onto his knees. “Oh, but you’re ready to do it to someone else?”

Her eyes slid downward to track his movement. “In my defense, you asked,” she said softly. Dangerously. “There’s no need to stress for compatibility. It’s either there or not.”

A pause.

In all honesty, Jungkook had first started asking the vulgar questions to see if he could throw her off guard. Then it became fascinating how unbothered she was by it. At some point, he couldn’t really help it anymore because he had become suddenly aware that she was aware of her effect on him. She had begun to notice how acutely he was listening to her answers. How he always had an involuntary reaction to her standing close to him. One time, he had felt the tips of her fingernails grazing over his lower back and visibly shivered. She had paused. Given him this look. He had held it but didn’t say anything. They were amongst other people. Must have been an accident. The next time, she did it intentionally. He held himself together better this time, but still returned the same knowing stare.

It became a silent game they played, just the two if them.

He asked the question of if she ever considered being on the receiving end of the power dynamic. She always rejected. He knew by now. He was only asking to stall for time. It was a dumb question, because nothing was a front with her. He liked that. He liked that she didn’t try to control anyone around her but rather had complete control of who she was. Didn’t try to convince anyone to change their opinion of her even though Jungkook hated it when he heard other people call her a slut. They used to be his friends but he stopped talking to them. He didn’t want to deal with that shit. He could get new friends.

He tilted his head at her.

She mimicked him, intrigued.

“So, you’re all talk and no walk?”

Damn, Jeon Jungkook was really trying to push your buttons today. You had to admire the audacity. Or maybe he was just horny. Nah, let him have the gumption. You hard let him get pretty close already, to test the waters of your compatibility, and you were feeling pretty confident about it. In conclusion, very successful. But nothing as intense as what he was suggesting. Pushing for, really. The best course of action was to talk about logistics and follow up some other time. That wasn’t really the way you or he rolled, though.

“What’s your safe word?” you asked plainly.

Jungkook looked confused. “Safe word?” he echoed.

You nodded. “Mhm. You know what that is, don’t you?”

His dark eyes shifted. “Uh. Yeah. Of course.” He frowned. You waited. “Stop?”

You almost laughed out loud. Almost. “Try something more obscure,” you coaxed. “Sometimes we say stop out of habit but not because we mean it.”

Jungkook was giving you this look. Fiercely protective with an even split of jealousy. “Oh, so you do this often, huh?” A little accusatory.

You blinked slowly.

Gave the time to let his own words sink into his ears. Then you said, “I’m fine walking out of here and pretending you never existed. I’m really good at playing the ignoring game.”

He got the hint. Winced and looked away. There was a bit too much pride to apologize for his rude remark. You could tell he sort of wanted to, yet the seconds marched on. The silence extended. Well. As long as he got the hint that you weren’t tolerating that shit.

“S… Sorry,” Jungkook mumbled under his breath.

You stilled a bit, wondering if you heard correctly. “Apology accepted.” You decided not to hold it against him since he proved you wrong. “The safe word is not just for you. It’s for me, too, so I can alert you that you’re asking for something I’m not willing to do. So, technically, it’s for us.”

Us.

That seemed to reignite his interest. “There’s stuff you’re not willing to do?” Of course that was what he was curious about.

You half-smiled. “Mhm. Such as heavy physical abuse. Blood play. Also, I’m not into cages. Those types of things aren’t for me.”

His eyes widened. “O… Oh.”

You ticked your head teasingly. “Disappointed?”

His eyes darted away. His deep voice became small. “Kinda scared… What even is…” He quickly cleared his throat. “I mean, okay. Yeah. I understand.”

You didn’t fill the silence. You let him think about it. Giving him an easy out if he wanted it. To be honest, this wasn’t your plan for tonight. Maybe some making out, but you didn’t walk in the door thinking about blindfolding Jeon Jungkook, tying him up, and having your way with him. Bit of an excessive lead-in. Hm. Suited him, though. You would have worn something less boring if this was your plan for seduction. Turtleneck and slacks weren’t exactly screaming I-am-going-to-fuck-your-brains-out.

“Yanggaeng.”

You broke out of your thought bubble. “Sweet bean jelly?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I was thinking about food.”

You liked that. “Mmm. You have rope? Fabric. Preferably all-natural.”

He shook his head. “Uh… I have some leftover ribbon from wrapping Christmas presents?”

You considered it.

“Eh, that’ll work.”

The tight turtleneck and tailored slacks looked even better when she stood up. Her sensual figure was made imposing by the cut of the fabrics. Either she was very good or very lucky at selecting clothing. He could clearly see the enticing body lines while at the same time seeing nothing at all. Even her shadow looked good. He felt a bit like a potato next to her. Best not to think about it too much. He changed the mood lighting to red. For ambiance. She let him know what she needed. He told her to stay and wait. A spool of dark cranberry velvet ribbon, a pair of scissors, and one folding chair later, she tucked her hands in her pockets and tilted her head at him.

“Blindfold?”

Jungkook went off in search of a silk sleeping mask. Close enough, right?

“Ah, smart.” She nodded. “Okay, strip.”

He stared at her. “Uh.”

She looked back at him, unbothered.

The silence extended.

“You weren’t serious about that?” she finally asked.

Calmly, as if she was asking for clarification of his lunch order. Awkward. He bit back his tongue. He looked from the line up of collected objects on his basement coffee table and then back at her. Instead of looking expectant, she looked curious. They hadn’t seen each other fully naked yet. Just mostly. And touched. But that was different.

“What about you?”

She glanced down. Then back up. “In due time.” There she went with that lioness smile again. “It’ll be a temporary embarrassment.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he shot back instantly and then regretted it. But she didn’t taunt him. Just continued standing there. He touched the seat of the folding chair. “It’s kinda cold.”

She looked around. “You have linens down here? A hand towel in the bathroom?”

“There’s some on the bar cart back there.”

This was happening. Really happening. It was sinking in now. All the more reason to not think about it. He yanked his t-shirt off as she searched the bar cart for the spoken towels. He plucked his beanie off too, and realized how flat and unappealing his hair must look. He had not planned this, obviously. Quickly, he made his way to the bathroom by the stairs. Yup. His reflection was not it. It took some water and aggressive pushing back to fix his hair. Wet dog was a better look than compressed.

She seemed a little perplexed when he re-entered the room. There was a plush white towel on the seat of the chair now. She was holding another one in her hands. She immediately looked over to him as he approached. Made zero comment about his shiftlessness.

Rude.

“You’re wet.”

He snatched the spare towel from her hand. “Turn around.”

She blinked slowly. “Why?”

He thwacked the edge of the towel against her hip. She looked down, acknowledging the action, but didn’t react much. Raised her head with a slight tilt. He tried not to blush. Believed he had succeeded with the combined force of sheer willpower and a hearty dose of delusion. He glared.

“I’m going to see everything and you won’t get to see my reaction,” she reminded him.

He clutched the pearly white towel quite intensely. “So what?”

She smiled. In that way. “You can use your safe word if you want.”

He clenched his jaw.

“Turn. Around.”

She searched his face for a second. Then, she did as he asked, facing the other way so her back was to him. Damn. Nice ass. Not the first time he thought that. He must be crazy. She had given him the option to drop it all and go back to just the usual hot-and-heavy-almost-there. He stared at the back of her head. Her hair was twisted upwards, trapped in a claw clip. The covered nape of her neck made his blood run hot. He pressed his lips together before slapping the towel over his shoulder and reaching into his pocket, pulling his phone out and setting it on the coffee table. Then he took off his pants and boxer briefs.

He picked up the sleeping mask.

Sat down, draping the towel over his crotch before turning off the lights for himself behind black silk.

“Okay.”

Now would be a good time to get out of his head.

Sadly, that was not how life worked. And so Jungkook was forced to endure the revelation that he was not Daredevil, sigh. His hearing did not suddenly become more sensitive due to the absence of sight. Fuck. Hadn’t been bitten by a radioactive spider recently either. Damn. He heard nothing but the hum of the wine fridge. He tried to listen for any movement – rustling clothes, a change in breathing, even a single dust bunny shivering, but there was nothing but a looming sense of what-the-fuck-am-I-doing.

A fingertip touched his cheek.

He almost flung himself off the chair. He would have lost his chastity towel in the process though, so instead he clutched it and jerked his head, realizing partway that it was probably a bad idea. He might startle her with his sudden movement. He froze.

Her voice floated down, dreamlike and airy.

“Was I not supposed to turn around?”

“I… I wasn’t expecting…” Which was a dumb thing to say. Duh, she was supposed to turn around.

“Jumpy like a bunny.,” she purred.

His breath caught in his throat.

Her fingertip had only left for a second but it was back again, tracing his cheekbone. Then he felt the other three follow in a cascading caress. His skin tingled. Her fingers danced down, cradling his jaw. His body felt strange. It felt like his blood was burning in his veins. She gently guided his head back to face forward, cupping his chin in the base of her soft palm. He could smell her hand lotion. Herbal and warm with a hint of yuzu. The pad of her thumb touched his lower lip.

Then her lips were by his ear.

He felt her breath stroke his earrings.

“Can you see anything?” she softly asked.

He almost choked. Somehow, he held it together. At least, he thought he did. “Fuck no.”

She tipped his head back. He realized he had instinctively closed his eyes under the sleeping mask anyway. He didn’t try to check if he could see but he heard her say, “I’d like for it to be nice and snug. That fine with you?”

He gave her the classic, “Whatever.”

That made her stifle a chuckle at least. Her hand let go of his chin. He let out the breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. He felt her adjust the plastic slider against the elastic so it was a little tighter and added alight pressure. Then he felt her wrist lift his chin and then her warm hand slid down his neck, fanning over his chest. He gasped and then immediately shut his mouth. Her other hand touched his forehead and tipped his head back once more.

Her lips brushed against the edge of his.

“Ready to get tied up?”

No, Jungkook was not ready. His heart was beating in his throat and cutting off all his air. His blood was on fire. What was scaring him was not what was happening but his reaction to it. The epitome of desire was too physical. It was freaking him out. Her name escaped his lips. He did not like the way it sounded to his ears. Hopefully she didn’t catch any of the nuance.

“Mhm? What’s wrong?” Her breath mixed with his breath.

He sucked in air. “You know what you’re doing, right?”

She kissed him.

He didn’t expect that at all. If it wasn’t for the damn chair, he would have tumbled to the ground. It was only a press of lips to lips, lasting for perhaps one very long second. Her lips were very soft. Plush. Fun to kiss, he had always thought to himself. And then she pulled away with a satisfied sigh.

“I know what I’m doing. Do you remember the safe word?”

He heard her pick up the scissors.

“I’m not going to need the safe word.”

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t see it, thankfully. You could only control yourself for so long. You stood behind him, holding the velvet ribbon and scissors. “What’s the safe word?” you repeated, more sternly this time.

“Yanggaeng.” Jungkook scoffed like a bratty kid that wasn’t getting his way. If he didn’t look so good naked and if you didn’t have the patience, you would have called this off by now. “You’re not gonna get all crazy on me, are you?”

Was it your imagination, or did he sound a little bit scared?

This probably wasn’t the time to bring up snuff films. “Good thing you have the safe word,” you remarked, crouching down and unraveling the ribbon. The cranberry-colored ribbon had weight and a sleek pile. It was the high-quality velvet. The price was still on the paper spool. Damn. His family must have gotten some nice gifts. You snipped off a decent length and called out to him. “Bring your hands back here.”

He hesitated for a second. You waited. His shoulders shifted and he crossed his wrists behind the folding chair. The muscles of his arms stood out, one bare and the other accented by dark, colorful, swirling tattoos from hand to shoulder.

You did smile.

What? His obedience was cute.

But you took a moment to readjust so his hands were side by side instead of crossed. You also turned his wrists inward so the pressure points wouldn’t be stressed. He would probably twist and move around eventually but you preferred to start off like this. You made sure there was some distance between his hands before you made a loop and began wrapping around both wrists.

“How do I know that you would even listen if I said the safe word?”

“I’m not going to gag you,” you replied a matter-of-factly. After a few wraps, you turned the ends perpendicular to the loops and crossed them before beginning to weave them parallel to his extended arms. “You can yap however much you want.”

“Yeah, but are you gonna listen?”

You paused before making the knot. “You don’t think I will?”

“I dunno. What if you go beastmode or something?”

Ah. You brushed aside your initial hurt feelings once you realized he wasn’t personally attacking your character. “If I could go beastmode, I would find a way to make money off it, not use it on you when you’re tied up like a Christmas present.” You tied a square knot. Fuck it. And added a bow to finish it off. You saw him test his restraints.

“… You do know what you’re doing, huh?”

“I keep telling you that and you keep not believing me.” You unraveled another long length and snipped it off.

Jungkook heard it and flinched. “What are you doing now?”

You were about to cut another one to match but you stopped. “I’m going to tie your ankles to the legs of the chair.”

“O… Oh.”

“Unless you don’t want me to.”

“I… It’s whatever.”

You felt a muscle in your cheek twitch. “Do you want to stop?”

He shrugged as much as he could. “Up to you. You’re in charge, right?”

You had not known Jungkook on a personal level for very long but you had enough intimate moments to know when he was being a cocky lil shit. It was mostly a bluff of false confidence to hide his nervousness. But it was annoying. He was basically low-key making fun of you. Well, not you specifically but BDSM in general. Probably unintentionally and out of ignorance, which was why you hadn’t brought down the axe yet. You licked your teeth, thinking.

He called your name.

In the same way he did before, when you had been holding his chin and asking if he was ready to be tied up. Low. Breathless. Fleeting, as if he didn’t want you to really hear it. You softened slightly at that. You cut the last length and let him hear you put the scissors and ribbon back onto the coffee table. Your misgivings would probably resolve themselves. You trusted him that much, at least. Whether or not that was a mistake would soon be known. Still, you had to teach him a lesson. You couldn’t let him think you were going to tolerate these comments forever. Then you got an idea. An awful idea.

You got a wonderful, awful idea.

You smiled the entire time as you bound his ankles to the legs of the chair.

“You scared?”

“Not really.”

This was fine. Everything was fine. Jungkook was not scared. One, because he totally wouldn’t be intimidated by a girl. Ever. Yup. Not him. And, two, because she had assured him that she was not going to go crazy on him and she totally wouldn’t lie. Right. So. He would be fine. His limbs were getting a bit cold now but his chest felt hot, as if someone was pointing a heater on his ribs. Cooked, if you will. He breathed in deeply yet quietly, trying to relieve the undefinable tension. She was behind him because he heard the click of her claw clip. Must be readjusting her hair. Haha. He was worrying over nothing. It wasn’t like she had whips and chains in her purse.

He heard her breathe in.

He was about to quip, are you nervous, but then he felt her hands close in around his forearms.

Her fingernails skimmed over his skin and dragged down.

He stiffened at the rising tingling sensation. It bloomed from his arms up to his shoulders, crawling down his pecs and into the pit of his stomach. His breath caught in his throat. Did time stop or was it due to the fact that he couldn’t see? Her warm touch closed in the cold backs of his hands. The binding around his wrists was secure but allowed her to turn his palms outward. Her lips touched the pads of his fingers.

She kissed his hands.

Never in a million years did he think she was going to kiss his hands. He was bound to a chair, blindfolded, naked, and the one isolated sensation he could feel was her lips traveling over the lines of his palms. His fingertips. Her breath trailing after. He could hear the delicate sound drifting up from below. He felt her fingers cup his, caressing his knuckles, and shivers slid up and down his body, diffusing the heat from his chest to his limbs. It was weirdly intimate. More intimate than sticking his dick in someone, which seemed fucking impossible, but it was. He didn’t know how to react. His entire body was frozen.

His breathing went shallow.

Her tongue slid out and curled around his right index finger.

Warm. Wet. Agile. His legs were spread open, locked in place by the binds. The towel was still draped over his crotch. He felt it shift when his dick twitched as her tongue licked his hands. There was almost no sound. Saliva dripped down his fingers. He suddenly felt her warm mouth closing in around two of them. She must be low on the ground to do that since his elbows weren’t raised at all. Jungkook bit back what was surely to be an embarrassing sound.

His fingers were halfway in her mouth when she said, “You can make noise, you know.”

Somehow, she was able to enunciate while sucking. His cock twitched again. “W-What are you talking about?” He only stuttered because he had not realized what little breath he had. “You haven’t… Haven’t done anything yet.” His racing heartbeat was choking him again.

She exhaled, low and slow.

His fingers slid out of her mouth with a wet plop. Then into the warmth went the fingers of his left hand, her tongue snaking in between, back and forth. Her pointed fingernails dug into the backs of his hands, almost pulling him. The persistent tingling danced all over his skin. He sucked in a breath. His hands were let go and then it was only her hot mouth traveling all over his fingers and palms. She hummed and the vibration coursed through his entire body. It was foreign and sensual and mind-numbing. She didn’t say anything but she didn’t have to. He kept thinking about how good it would feel to wrap his wet, slippery hands around his growing erection and yet he couldn’t, trapped in her circling tongue.

He shuddered.

His right thumb was pressed against something hard and cold.

It lasted for maybe a millisecond. His brows knitted together in confusion. Then he felt her tongue slide up his right forearm, dripping saliva. Soaking the velvet. He couldn’t feel her hands anymore. The trail of kisses traveled up his arm and to his shoulder. He leaned into it, wanting more.

“Hm. I think I found a nice place to sit,” she whispered.

He would have replied with a snappy comeback but then she started kissing his right ear, melting away his thoughts. Lightly biting. Sucking. Toying with his earrings, and he heard the zipper of her pants unravel. This was familiar territory. He let himself bask in the attention, letting out a satisfied sigh. Then he heard it.

The sound of a camera shutter.

For a moment, he thought he imagined it. He was so focused on the sensations on his right ear that he wasn’t paying attention to the left. He turned his head slightly, puzzled. Her warmth shifted. Circling. He was about to ask if she had heard it too, but then he felt her knee slide between his legs, stopping just so. He became highly aware that she was right in front of him. He moved his head to face the direction of her breath, tilting upwards. He couldn’t see but it was obvious. Her fingers laced into his now mostly dry hair and she yanked. The pain was momentary.

Click.

“Woah!”

His hands clasped instinctively. He was quickly cognizant of his compromising position. His throat exposed, the towel barely clinging to his erection, dangerously low, and it occurred to him that she was holding his head with her left hand. He heard the sound of the camera shutter again. There was no mistaking it now. Panic shot through his ribs.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Her voice was eerily calm.

“Guess.”

Click.

Her hand turned and the base of her palm pressed against the top of the blindfold.

“Are you taking pictures of me?” he gasped, feeling his face flush hot.

She didn’t answer. She did not answer. He pulled against the velvet ribbon but his ankles and wrists were going nowhere. Her knee on the seat of the chair prevented him from moving it. He would have to throw his weight to one side to break out of her grasp but then she might be injured at the same time. His mind reeled. Click.

“Stop squirming,” she finally said.

“Stop –?” He did not know why he was hiss-whispering and yet he didn’t want to yell in her face. “I didn’t agree to this!”

“What’s wrong with it?” Click. “You take selfies all the time.”

His cheeks were on fire. “That’s… This isn’t the same at all!” He writhed, arching his back. “You can’t… Don’t… Please!”

All of a sudden he felt her chest press against his. Or, more accurately, her breasts. Still clothed, apparently, because he felt the smoothness of the turtleneck fabric and her bra underneath. He stopped raising the volume of his voice. Her face was close to his. He was breathing very rapidly and very shallow.

“What was that?” she murmured.

His head felt hot. His pulse roared in his ears.

“D… Don’t…”

“Just the last part,” she prompted, sweet like poison.

Confusion ate through the tension. “Uh…” He racked his brain. “Please?”

“Hm.”

Click.

Jungkook opened his mouth to protest, but then his lover whispered, “That wasn’t the safe word.”

The safe word.

He felt the edge of the cell phone touch his collarbone.

“Y-Yanggaeng,” he gasped.

She immediately pulled back and lifted the sleeping mask.

He blinked hard even through the red mood lighting wasn’t bright at all. Hurriedly shook his head. Panting. The tension eased down his limbs, melting away. He looked up. She was right there. Her left hand was on his shoulder now, bracing herself. In her right was his cell phone. The back, showing his phone case with a print of black marble with white veining. She turned it around wordlessly.

Jungkook saw his face.

Barely. The front camera was on. The front camera was on. He frowned, confused. Huh? He glanced down at the preview of recently taken photos and it was merely a black circle. He looked up, not quite understanding. She was looking down at him with an undefinable expression.

“Eh?”

She tapped the gallery and showed him the photos. All black screens. She swiped through them until she got to the most recent photo he took – an image of falling snow in the city. It was clear that she did not actually take a photo of him. Not a single one. He tilted his head. She switched back to the camera app and turned the phone around again, bracing it against her chest before he heard the camera shutter sound again. She had used her right thumb to press the button. All of the photos were when the lens was pressed to her covered chest.

“I’m not going to need the safe word,” she echoed hauntingly.

His eyes widened.

She raised an eyebrow.

Oh. “O…Oh.” He felt his cheeks warm again.

“Using the safe word is not just for extreme pain,” she said quietly. Her expression reflected mild disappointment. “I’m not fucking around, Jungkook. The safe word is not a joke.”

“Y… Yeah.” He looked down and then immediately couldn’t focus upon seeing her naked legs. “Yeah. I get it. Sorry.” He realized he should not have made light of something that was now proven to be very important. He looked back up, hesitantly. She seemed to relax due to his reaction. Even half-smiled. Forgiven, for now. “When did you swipe my phone?”

“When I put the scissors down.”

He smirked. “Sneaky.”

She chuckled. “Surprised you didn’t notice me unlocking it with your thumb print.”

He frowned slightly. “I felt it but I wasn’t sure what that was.” He narrowed his eyes. “I was a little distracted.”

Her shadowed eyes sparkled. “I think you liked it more than you let on.” She straddled his thighs, leaning her arms around his shoulders. The towel on his crotch was barely holding on. She didn’t look down though. Just stared into his eyes. “But I had to teach you a lesson.”

“Nuh uh.” He made a face. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Her amusement was subtle like a cat. “That would have been a nasty situation.”

“You know what I mean.”

He could stare into her eyes forever.

He probably should have been madder but she was right to begin with. Plus, it was hard to care when he could feel the weight of her naked thighs on his thighs. It was hard to think when he could almost feel their bodies pressed together with little air between them.

“You can put more weight on me.”

She didn’t take the bait. “I’m good.” Her tongue slid out and traced the edge of her lips.

His eyes followed. He sucked in a breath. Glanced back up.

She regarded him curiously.

“Kiss me.”

She didn’t move. Picturesque in the shadows. Imprinted into his memory.

“Please kiss me,” he breathed, low with want.

She tilted her head and kissed him.

Pulled her body closer and he moaned into her mouth. The towel bunched up against his hard length. He felt the warm dip between her legs. So close and yet so far. She kissed him deeply, the tip of her tongue against his lip, and he craned his head forward, driven by desire. Her tongue slid inside. He sucked on it, tight. His heartbeat against his ribs. Heat rising. Intensifying.

She broke the kiss, tearing his breath apart.

He half-opened his eyes. Her lips were glossy. Gleaming in the dark.

“Hey.”

Her eyes shifted under her lashes. Pupils slightly dilated. “Hm?”

“Take a selfie.”

Bewilderment. “Right now?” She frowned a bit. “My phone is over there.”

His voice was shaking a little. “With mine.”

She pulled back her right hand. The screen was dark. She still looked perplexed but made to get off his lap.

He immediately protested. “No.”

She turned the phone around. His lock screen was his Doberman who was blissfully asleep upstairs. “I need your fingerprint.”

“Use the PIN.”

She swiped the screen with raised eyebrows. Before she could ask, he gave her the answer.

“It’s your birth date.”

Her eyes flickered to him.

“What?” He shrugged as best he could. “I have to remember it somehow.”

She looked like she wanted to say something. Didn’t. Instead, she typed it in. The last open application was already loaded. It was still on the front camera. She raised off his thighs, holding onto his right shoulder with her left hand.

“Uh. Wait. The towel.”

She paused. Looked down. Back up. “What about it?”

He pouted. “Move it.”

Something flitted across her gaze. But she didn’t ask. She angled her hips and lifted the white towel from his lap gently. Upwards, so the edges had clearance before she tossed it aside. He glanced down, just in case. He wasn’t exactly hard. Not completely limp either. He was very aroused. He could feel pre-cum leaking onto the towel under him. His eyes went back to her face. For a split second, they shared a gaze. He couldn’t quite work out her expression. She had touched him before. Sucked him when he was fully hard. But never really seen him completely naked and not hard.

Every guy was self-conscious about that stuff.

She lowered back down and slid up higher. Higher, so the top of her crotch was against his abdomen. He inhaled sharply. She reached around and cupped his head, pressing it to her chest. He almost squeaked. Her thighs pressed against his hips. He wished she was completely naked.

What? Guys thought about that stuff too!

“Only my face, right?”

“Don’t get any of me,” he mumbled to her tits. “I don’t need any pics of myself.”

“You take a lot of pics of yourself. I’ve seen your Instagram,” she chuckled and then he heard the camera shutter.

“I deleted that,” he grumbled as she let go of his head and turned the screen. He could barely make her out but the highlighted details were exquisite. The red light and deep black shadows cast her pretty face with a vampiric glow. She had said she wasn’t into blood play but Jungkook was pretty sure he would let her suck his blood.

“Satisfied?”

His mouth was open. He closed it. “Uh. Yeah.”

She smiled. “You wanna continue?”

It did not occur to him that he could stop all this right now. “What? Duh.” He wiggled in place. “I haven’t even cum yet!”

Her smile grew. “Oh?”

“Hey! You gotta hold up your side of the deal,” he complained, stressed that she wasn’t going to let him bust a nut like this. “Come on.”

She was really serving Cheshire cat now. It might have been the lighting.

“Then it’s lights out for you.”

And she pulled the sleeping mask down, leaving him in the dark.

There was no plan. There never was when it came to Jeon Jungkook. You just knew you would end up in some shit whenever you stepped into his place. Like tying him naked to a chair and making out with him while he was blindfolded. You loved the feeling of dragging your nails over his skin. He slipped into the darkness much more freely this time, accepting anything you did. You hadn’t removed your turtleneck or undergarments yet. It added to the ambiance. He could feel the shape of your body but not your skin and it was driving him insane. His breath caught. His body went tense.

You dragged your nails down his chest and followed it with your tongue, slithering down his legs.

His gasps were slowly turning into whines.

You pressed your hand against his hard abdomen.

You lowered your head and drenched his cock with your spit. He wasn’t hard and yet he moaned to the ceiling as you swallowed him, guiding him down your throat with your tongue. You didn’t need to use your hands. You toyed with his thigh, spreading your fingers out over muscle and tapping your manicure against his skin. Moved your head back and forth. He grew harder and harder in your mouth. You kept it soft and excessively wet, sucking out the air at the back of your throat.

His moan rocked through the chair.

You worked him to full hardness rather quickly before pulling off.

“Fuck, what…?”

“Surely you didn’t think it was going to happen right away,” you said with your tongue against his balls. You held his wet dick up and out of the way, drawing one of his balls into your mouth and swirling your tongue. His whole body went stiff. You stroked the underside of his shaft at the same time.

“C-Careful.”

You held it delicately with your teeth and said, “Sensitive?”

He made a sharp sucking sound with his cheek. “A-Ah…”

You eased, pulsing, testing the limit. Licking at the same time. Jungkook made an odd moan-yelp.

“I dunno why, the biting kinda feels good…”

You changed sides, working him with your tongue first. Took him in your mouth, sucking back and forth. Tugging a little at the same time. His erection became hot. You slid your hand up and down, keeping him hard as you chewed lightly on one of his balls.

“Feels tingly…” he murmured, more to himself than you.

You let go and slid your tongue below his balls. Pinched the skin in between your teeth and placed a little more pressure there. His breathless gasp quickly turned into a moan as you sucked while jacking him off at the same time, using your own saliva as lube.

“A-ah, fuck, I’m gonna…”

You released your teeth and licked up his balls, up the length, releasing his cock milliseconds before you crammed it down your throat. His thighs snapped against the seat of the chair. He swore, or maybe that was a prayer, but you were busy planting your hands onto his thighs and sucking him off. You took him deep so he could feel your throat close in, over and over again, keeping a steady pace while building his orgasm. It was easier using gravity to your advantage. You had to spread your knees and hold your torso up so you didn’t hit your chest into anything, but that was easy to adjust to. You slid your tongue along the underside with each descent, hearing his moan drop into a hiss.

“Gonna cum, fuck–”

You pressed your lips into the base of his cock.

You felt his hips flinch and cum shoot into the back of your mouth. It flooded into your tongue, blanketing over the throbbing head of his cock, and Jungkook groaned, his collarbones standing out from the strain. Shoulders and chest tense. His thighs were rock hard in your hands. You felt him twitch. You didn’t move. The wave of orgasm shot up and rolled down, down. Slowly, he relaxed.

You swallowed, savoring it.

He shuddered.

Soft, grazing, lazy. Barely any pressure. You rocked your head up and down, licking up any excess liquid. Your turtleneck was becoming a little too warm. But then that meant your mouth would have to let go of Jungkook’s cock. And he was still hard.

So, that wasn’t happening.

You moved your hands from his thighs.

“Holy…” He panted, struggling to breathe. “Fuck, that feels good… Aaah…”

You drew your knees together. If he was paying attention then he would have heard you, but he was too busy basking the high of the afterglow. Or your mouth was too distracting. Both were possible. You drew closer. Took him a little deeper. Closed your eyes. Time slipped away. You forgot your own heartbeat, becoming one with the rhythm you commanded. Curling tongue. Excessively wet. A tight pocket in the darkness. Licking the lower base as your throat pulsed around the swollen head, and you heard his moan vibrate to the walls, the sound spreading and then falling, drenching you in his wanton want.

He came again.

You didn’t stop.

In fact, you reached between your legs to join him.

“Are you…? O-Oh, fuck. I can hear it…”

You spread your knees and slid two fingers into your pussy, letting it make a loud, wet sucking sound as you pulled out. It was more fun than pleasurable, really. The real pleasure was letting him listen to you fingering yourself while you continued sucking him off. You placed a hand on the seat of the chair to brace yourself, increasing the speed and saliva. It was noisy and obscene, the repeated sticky separation sounds, and you kept going, getting closer, your back tingling, blood burning, closer, tucking your fingers in between your upper folds instead, rubbing your clit, feeling electricity crawl up your abdomen, closer.

You pinched your clit and moaned around his cock.

Jungkook threw his head back and groaned, his hips rising into your face.

You focused only on the head. He orgasmed with a hiss and an intelligible moan, and you tucked him all the way in the back of your throat. Thankfully you didn’t choke. The volume wasn’t as much as the first one. You locked your limbs and felt your own orgasm seep into your bones, setting your nerves on fire in heated blood. Your grip on the chair tightened, unwilling to collapse under the pressure. Wave after rolling wave, scalding you with ebbing ecstasy, and you endured it while licking him clean, feeling reborn. Proud of the session.

Pretty good if you could say so yourself.

You finally removed your mouth, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. You stood up, somewhat shakily, and righted yourself before plucking off the blindfold. You tossed it to the ground. Jungkook’s eyes were still closed. His black hair was damp with sweat. His chest, too, shone with a thin sheen of perspiration.

He panted, “Kiss me.”

“Do you want me to untie–”

“Fuckin’ kiss me now.”

She slid onto his aching, trembling thigh. Her lips felt like heaven in the hellfire, gentle against his racing pulse, pressing against his greedy mouth over and over. He could taste a hint of himself in her saliva. He felt the slick lips of her pussy on his upper thigh and he hissed between breathless breaths, “Rub on me, ugh, fuck, yes,” and she curled her fingers into his sweaty hair, pulling him to her. Tugging. Ah. Sweet, delicious pain.

He forgot he was tied up, really. It was just part of him now.

“Take it off,” he grumbled, realizing she was still wearing her turtleneck. It was a nice fabric but he wanted her naked. “How the fuck… How are you not hot in that?”

“I was busy sucking your dick,” she laughed, and he opened his eyes to see her peeling it off her body, crossing her arms. Pulling up and back to reveal her torso. He had seen it a few times already and every time he marveled. She tugged it off her head. It messed up her claw clip, but she looked better that way. More beautiful in chaos. She tossed the clothing aside and unclicked the front clasp of her bra.

Jungkook was convinced bras were made by the devil, but he couldn’t deny the magic of a front-clasp bra opening the gateway to heaven.

“Like what you see?”

He stared at her. She looked amused.

“Put them in my face right now.”

There was a certain rapport when it came to power dynamics. He didn’t know anything about that. Maybe he would get better at it. She laughed and lifted herself, dropping the bra to the ground, half-standing with one knee on the chair, and scooped up her perfect breasts to present those delicious-looking nipples to his face. He didn’t even care that he couldn’t use his hands. Ugh, they were just so perfectly soft and supple. She tasted so good. Was it creepy to think her skin tasted good? He didn’t care. She rubbed her breasts against his cheeks as he sucked, licked, buried his face into them like an excited puppy.

“I think we are losing the plot here,” she joked.

“Don’t talk to me,” Jungkook sighed, self-asphyxiating with her tits.

“I should be taking them away from you if I was really being dominant.”

He unstuck himself and planted his chin in her cleavage, staring up at her.

She looked down, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

He could have offered a witty comeback or even put on his best puppy eyes to convince her otherwise, but instead he stared into her eyes in stunned silence. His limbs were burning, now not from arousal but longing. Maybe also soreness. But mostly longing to hold her. The puddle between his legs was also alarming. His sweat was becoming cold as the seconds marched on.

“Don’t go.”

She tilted her head. “Did you think I was going to walk off and leave you tied to the chair?”

“What?” He frowned. “You’d never do that, right?”

She blinked at him.

“Right?”

“Maybe when you have more practice,” she chuckled. “What did you mean by, don’t go?”

The red mood lighting made her ethereal. “Don’t go home. Stay here with me.”

A pause. “In your house?”

“Yeah?” The way she said it made him question it too. “Uh, yeah?”

She sucked in a breath while pressing her tits against his face. “Huh, I dunno… That’s usually how women get murdered.”

“Hey!” He wiggled in place, or at least as much as he could. “I let you tie me up. You should trust me by now!”

She made a thinking expression. He would be much angrier if her soft breasts weren’t caressing his cheeks. “Mmm, okay. As long as I get to tie you up before we sleep.”

His eyes went wide. “What?!”

“I’ll even put a bow on your head. You would look really cute.”

“You can’t–”

She laughed. “I’m joking. I wouldn’t do that. It’s dangerous.” She slid down his body and pecked him on the lips. “Let’s get you outta these ties.” She was about to say something else but then stopped. Confusion fluttered over her features. Her eyes cast downwards. He felt his cheeks flush warmly.

“Uh.”

“Why are you hard?”

“No reason.”

Those shadowed eyes drifted back up. She gave him a slow, knowing nod. “Noted.” She got up to undo the velvet ribbon ties.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he called out.

“I don’t,” she said from behind him, loosening the knot before rubbing his forearms. “You give them to me.”

Oh shit.

He did.

And would continue to.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut

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hottiesforhockey · 3 months ago

Note

Can you write some nsfw with Trevor Zegras using the quote "Who the fuck is that?" 🙏 I was thinking he was looking through his best friends phone to get the photos she took for him the other day so he can make an Instagram post and stumbles upon her spicy pics she posts on her onlyfans (which he didn’t know existed) and he gets turned on which leads to them having sex

"Trevor, stop snooping." You hiss as you try to snatch your phone from his grip, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he continues to swipe through your photos.

"I just want the photo you took at the beach and then I'll give it back." He coos, his swiping continuing while he avoids your reach, leaning as far back on the couch as he can, his back curved over the arm of the chair as you scramble across the couch.

"You're gonna find something you don't want to see if you don't give me the phone back right now." You pause, sitting back on your heels as you watch his fingers pause their movements, his mouth dropping open slightly as his eyes bug out of his head. “I told you, you’d find something you didn’t want to see.” You pout, Trevors body flinging itself into an upright position as he glances between you and the phone.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“What?”

“Who the fuck am I looking at right now, cause I know it sure as hell can’t be you.” He curses, turning the phone towards you quickly showing you a glimpse of the photo of you in your halloween lingerie that you had posted earlier that day. The incredibly revealing ghost face costume had been highly requested by your subscribers, and was too easy to put together.

“What are you talking about, Trevor?” You sneer, finally able to snatch the phone from his hands as he looks at your dumbfounded. “I’ve told you that I post on onlyfans for extra cash, it can’t be that surprising.”

“Yeah but if I knew that’s what was hiding under those three XL shirts this whole time I would’ve signed up a lot sooner.” He jokes, his cheeks a blushing red as he coughs a little when he notices you not laughing with him. You watch as he fidgets in his seat, his hand trying to subtly - and failing miserably - to grab the pillow to place over his lap.

“I cannot believe you right now.” You yell, yanking at the pillow he’s holding onto for dear life. “You are seriously getting turned on right now?” You say, glaring as his arousal is obvious in his pants.

“I can’t help it - look at your fucking tits in that picture.” He groans slapping his hand on his forehead before dragging it down his face.

“They really do look good don’t they.” You agree as you glance down at the photo - the underwire of the bra had given your girls a much appreciated hoist, the cleavage in the picture looking almost photoshopped with how perfect it was.

“I’m never going to be able to look at you again.” Trevor sighs, both his hand in his lap, holding the pillow in place as he shifts his hips slightly, “this is the worst day of my life.” Your smile falters a little as Trevor lets out another low groan, his hips shifting again as he hisses at his movements.

“Now please if you’ll excuse me, I have to go jerk myself off and maybe sign up for an onlyfans subscription.” Trevor says stretching his arms above his head, bracing to push himself off the couch.

“Or…” You begin, your teeth catching your bottom lip as your eyes make contact.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“I can help you out if you want?” You say, adding “the only thing better than jerking yourself off, is me jerking you off.” You watch as Trevors whole body freezes, you shuffle forwards on the couch a little, your hand grabbing the edge of the pillow on Trevor’s lap, his own hand trying to keep it in place.

“Trust me, Trev.” You whisper, taking advantage of his hand relaxing a little, pulling the pillow away from him and throwing it across the room, the cushion smacking against the wall. “Are you going to let me help?” Trevor nods quickly, his breathing speeding up as you continue to shuffle until your knees press against his, his legs still crossed underneath him.

“Use your words, please.” You say.

Trevor letting out a soft sigh of “please.” You raise your brow expecting more from the man. “Please touch me.” He whines, your hands already moving towards the waist band of his sweats, slipping inside as you lean forwards, your hair falling over your shoulder as you invade Trevors space.

“I think I’m gonna cum as soon as you touch me.” Trevor whispers as your hand slips beneath the waistband of his boxers, gently grabbing hold of his throbbing cock, Trevor letting out an almost pained moan.

“Good to know I have this effect on you, baby.” You whisper, leaning your head down to press a gentle kiss against the underside of his jaw, his head falling back as your hand slowly begins to pump. “You have to relax.” You say as your mouth continues down his neck, your hand moving to collect his droplets of pre cum before continuing its slow and steady pumping, a slick sound filling the almost silent room.

“This is so fucked up.” Trevor says, his words coming out with a chuckle of disbelief. “My best friend is jerking me off.” He continues.

“If you’re a good boy we could do so much more.” You tease, eyes widening in surprise at the buck of Trevors hips, a sly grin growing on your face as you pull away from his neck to look down at him. “Trevor, do you have a praise kink?” You bite down on your lip to stop the small laugh bubbling in your chest.

This was definitely not expected.

“Shut up.”

“You like being my good boy.” You try again, the laugh escaping you as he bucks again, letting out a hiss as your hand squeezes him.

“We need more lube.” He notes, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched as hard as it can.

“Do you want me to spit on it?” You joke, letting out a surprised yelp when Trevors hand grips your wrist, holding your hand in place as he thrusts his hips haphazardly, the warm liquid spilling onto your hand trapped in his pants.

“Did you just…” You watch as he pants, his hips finally stopping their movements, his hold on your wrist relaxing as he lets out an annoyed whimper.

“Yep.” He admits, his eyes slowly opening as he hesitantly glances up at you, “It’s your fucking fault, when the fuck did you learn to talk like that?”

“Oh, trust me… There’s a lot more where that comes from.” You smile, leaning towards him, your lips ghosting over his ear as you add, “would you like show me how a good boy says thank you.” Trevors whole body shivering as you pull away, a moment of hesitation before he pounces tackling you to the couch.

“I’ll show you exactly how I say thank you.”

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl smut #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras fanfic #blurb #answered asks

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flor4de4amor · 9 months ago

Note

hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣

click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me

ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)

you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch.

but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player.

your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes.

who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen.

the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.

she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.

“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.

she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.

she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.

you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile.

“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.

“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.

“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’

“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”

“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”

“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.

“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.

“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster.

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thebibliosphere · 11 months ago

Text

I’ve talked about this with some friends, but the whole Spotify/audiobook drama legitimately makes me want to cry.

If you are unaware, earlier in the month, Spotify, who now owns FindawayVoices -- an audiobook distributor and one of the only major rivals to Audible on the creator end -- announced that their ToS would be updating.

The ToS updates were horrendous and basically allowed Spotify to make royalty-free translations of our works, as well as create derivatives, and basically just fuck us all over and feed all of our hard work into AI.

The backlash was so swift that less than 12 hours later, Spotify sent out a panicked “Sorry our wording wasn’t clear!” email with a promised update. Less than 24 hours later they issued a statement walking back the changes to the ToS, and have since been pulling a “we never said that, you misread our unclear verbiage” when in reality the verbiage was very clear (Not Spotify trying to pull a “gaslight gatekeep girl boss ✌️”), they just didn't expect to get dragged out into the metaphorical court of social media and get publicly annihilated with authors withdrawing their work from the platform and customers canceling their subscriptions left right and center.

Anyway, the walk back was acceptable enough for me to not feel the need to remove my work entirely from FindAway -- which is good because I would have lost access to the global audiobook market if I had, not to mention global library access. Which, again, is good. A significant chunk of my audiobook earnings comes from Libby, and I’d honestly be lost without that $20 every month. (we get paid quarterly but it breaks out to about $20 a month.)

What the walk back was not good enough for, was for me to trust them to keep streaming Hunger Pangs on their Spotify streaming service. Because quite frankly, I don't trust them not to pull some more ToS bullshit, and this is the part making me want to cry.

Why? Because I’m going through my royalty reports, and for the single month of December 2023 alone, Hunger Pangs was streamed so often it earned $400.

In one month.

That's more than I earn from Audible in a year.

That's more than I earn from kobo, b&n, libby, libro.fm and several author distributors combined in a year.

I’m going to scream.

#spotify #spotifygate #audiogate #when I saw that I almost put it back up on Spotify because Jesus Christ #$400 a month #That’d be my medical shit for the month covered #i’m so fucking angry it’s making me cry #*my extra medical shit #i should say #currently not in physical therapy and I reaaaaally should be

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desertskiespodcast · 6 months ago

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The first half of Desert Skies season 1 was made in a large hollow room, the latter half was made in a very unsturdy uncomfortable blanket fort.

The mic I use goes for $100 brand new which is nothing compared to many, and I’ll replace it with the same one if it ever breaks.

First episodes I ever made were made using free software, and the only reason I use a different software now is because it’s part of the Adobe subscription I have for other products I need. They both do the exact same things.

I never worked in sound engineering and still have no idea what half the things I do to clean up the audio are actually doing. I don’t understand the terms. I press buttons till it sounds right.

I never wrote a fiction script in my life. I didn’t finish college. I’m in recovery from a serious mental illness and have been for many years.

I’m ridiculously unorganized.

I didn’t have time to make a show. I operated at a loss for nearly a year and after that only made enough to pay for my hosting fees and software. I had a family I supported and they’re loud (but I love them).

I did it without a team. I did it without previous voice acting experience or other actors. I did it with massive amounts of self-doubt. I played every character.

I did it anonymously for like the first 6 episodes because of how afraid I was.

I took 3 month breaks between some episodes and then would have 2 episodes release back to back. At multiple points people thought my season had ended. It took me almost a year and a half to finish my 13 episode season

I still made it after some really mean reviews. And after constantly being compared (often kindly. often negatively) to a massive show I’d never heard of.

I made it after all the articles saying I’d never get listens because the podcast world is flooded. I continued making it after I found out I wasn’t doing something new, that there were like 8,000 other shows in the category.

Next month DS is on track to hit 1 million downloads.

I’m so glad I made it. It’s brought me so much joy. And I write none of this to brag, but I’m damn proud of what I’ve accomplished.

I’m just here to tell you this:

THERE ARE NO RULES

You can make one or a hundred shows if you want to, because there are no rules

You can make it by yourself or make your grandma voice act for you, because there are no rules

You can record it on a cassette tape and mail it to random addresses, because there are no rules

You can make it for one person, or for yourself, because there are no rules

You can make it a found footage or a full cast or improvise it or release one episode a year for a decade, because there are no rules

You can advertise it, or make social accounts, or don’t. There are no rules

You can record it into your phone, or your moms phone, or into a Talkboy because there are no rules

The only thing you can’t do is never make it. That’s not allowed

#audio drama #desert skies #science fiction #fantasy #audio fiction #art #podcast #writing

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shamrockqueen · 9 months ago

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Omega retreat : chapter 5

Pairing: Alpha Bucky × Omega Reader

Warnings: R18, Smut, Not what it seems, ABO dynamics, knotting, biting, bruising, sexual themes, adult themes

Word count: 2029

Bucky Masterlist

Summary: As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

He circled his fingers around the necks of the bottles, letting his nails cut through the wet labels as he pulled the beers from the cooler. The ice crunched together as it filled in the gap left behind before Bucky shut the lid and walked away.

His associates sat outside, and as he offered one of the beers as he approached one of the other men.

The third gentleman sat, unmoved, in a luxurious deck chair. His legs were spread, creasing his white trousers as his ankle sat on top of his other knee. He scratched at the chin of his dark goatee, looking back at his colleague through tinted glasses.

“I take it that the shop talk is over.”

Bucky sat back on his chair, rubbing his temple as Tony spoke.

“Not that it isn’t interesting.” Steve laughed back as he smoothed down a stray tuft of his sandy blonde before reaching back down to twist the top off his beer. A bit of foam followed after to dribble out over his thick fingers, and he switched the bottle to his other hand as he tried to shake the mess from his skin.

"Geez, Buck. Did'ya shake it?”

Bucky shrugged, laughing a little as he popped the cap off his own bottle and sat back before Steve shot back with another joke.

“Is this your way of getting back at me?”

Bucky shot back with equal sarcasm. “Yeah, I shook your beer because you were prowling through my Omega’s profile.”

“Can’t blame me for being a little jealous.”

“Oh? Back on the dating game, boys?" Tony gave them both a smirk as he asked.

“I think it really came through this time.” Bucky said before taking a sip of his beer.

“She has you smitten this soon?” Steve smiled back.

“She’s something else; I could tell right away.”

“I feel like I’ve heard this song before.” Tony teased, turning his eyes away from the other men.

“I know that this time is different. It’s that itch in my belly that had never been there before. She just really brings my Alpha out just when I hear her voice.” Bucky brought the spout back to his lips and knocked back another swig of beer before continuing to speak.

“I think that website finally came through for me.”

“You lucky bastard, but I can’t say they don’t owe you one at this point.” Steve shined back as he sipped up the last of his beer.

“I hope they know better than to let this end like any of the last ones.” Tony shot back, still trying to crack the sugar coating on this story to find a more realistic center. “I still say it’s no better than burning your money, especially after how long you’d had the subscription.”

“Says a man who’s already married.” Steve tried to grin away a small sneer.

Tony was a Beta—a married Beta with a baby on the way. He would never know the struggle of finding one’s perfect match when there were so few to look through.

“Besides, the girls get it for free, so somebody has to pay.” Steve didn’t even look up from his empty bottle when he said it more to himself than the other men. The website didn’t advertise as such to the desirable Omega’s, but the Alpha’s were given a much more formal subscription through a sister site. The Alphas were always willing to pay, of course.

“I just think that at this point, it would have to feel like a scam after all you’ve been through.” Tony spoke back.

"Well, there will be hell to pay if it is.” Bucky didn’t look back up as he answered, choosing instead to watch the swirl of his beer as he tipped the bottle back and forth.

Tony finally cleared his throat, annoyed that his pushback didn’t yield any results. “You know, I’ve heard some stuff about that place.”

Bucky hesitated before giving a stern “So have I.”

Tony took a deep breath, not wanting to insult his long-time friend any further. “I’m not saying you're that kind of person. You’re a good man, Buck. I just wish you didn’t associate with something that didn’t match your character.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t do those kinds of things. I want to do right by any girl of mine.”

Bucky never led any of his friends to believe he was anything less than an upstanding man, so Tony believed him as he spoke.

Steve cleared his throat, trying to disperse the cloud of awkward tension in the air. Especially what had circled his own head.

“Love at first sight then; I hope she lives up to this hype.”

“I’d say so.”

“Caught the fish I couldn’t.” Steve smirked back before leaning forward to tap his empty bottle against the one still in Bucky’s hands.

Bucky closed the gap with a little ‘clink’ to finish the small toast to his success.

“And don’t think you can try and steal her.”

Fed up with the sparks of jealousy, Tony hit his knees with the palms of his hand before pushing up from his seat.

“Well, I think it’s my turn to get a drink.”

With his colleague’s departure, Bucky felt the subtle buzz in his pocket before he could pull Steve into another conversation.

Bucky lifted his finger to excuse himself before walking back, passing Tony and his now-full glass of scotch.

He flipped his phone open, finding a picture on the small screen. He has to bring the phone closer to his face before yours becomes recognizable in the image of a changing room.

It was from an angle to show a flowy floral dress that ended along your upper thigh. It dipped along your bustline and tightened around the hourglass dip at your waist.

He smiled, leaning on the wall as another notification lit across the top of the little screen to signal you’d sent another photo.

You had gone through with your little shopping excursion, lifting your once dampened spirits. It was actually nice to like how you look in new clothes, and you made sure you weren’t the only one.

There was no doubt that you were perfectly Omega. From your overall shy demeanor to the soft shape of your gorgeous body as it lights up across the screen.

Bucky had had his fill of pushy women. He wasn’t asking for a servant, just an equal partner, but their demanding nature too easily turned him off.

He looked back at the glass door that stood between him and his friends out on the deck. It was just a small gesture to secure his privacy as he clicked a few buttons to bring himself to the new picture.

It was a romper, a low v-cut sitting over your breasts as the ends of the shorts rose high along your thighs.

He lingered on each dip and curve for as long as it would take to paint the picture to his memory before thumbing back with, ‘Doing some shopping, doll?’

He didn’t have the luxury of watching your response load with the dance of bouncing dots, but was almost immediately met with, “Yeah, I didn’t have vacation-friendly clothes. Whatcha think?’

‘The second one is a bit risqué, isn’t it?’

You flinched at the last message, and you hoped that it didn’t mean you offended him.

‘Oh geez. It is a bit, but I already bought it.’

‘I never said you didn’t look good; it’s certainly more than I’ve gotten to see so far ;)'

You laugh a little, feeling bashful upon seeing the little winking face as you hold your phone close. You wanted to type back, but his messages popped up before you could.

‘Are there any more pictures I can look forward to?’

‘I sent a few; you should have gotten them by now.’ You answered back just as quickly.

His simple flip phone wasn’t that great at receiving pictures, but just in time, two more made it through.

It’s you in a long, flowy dress of blue, showing less skin besides a leg peeking out from a slit at the side. It was cute; it looked form-fitting and soft.

The other was a simple plaid button-up top and a pair of denim shorts. You had your body turned to show the curve of your ass as a little peeked out the bottom of the denim. It made him glad that he’d be having you all to himself over that weekend.

His tongue spread over his lips as he pictured the thin strip of denim that would be covering your hidden pink center and how the seams would pop as he tried to pull it out of his way to find it.

‘Please tell me you bought that last one.’

‘Just the shorts, the shirt seemed like it would be too hot.’ You tapped away with a reddening smile before lifting your gaze back up to the other stores ahead. A familiar cursive name lit up in pink crossed your vision before you stepped towards it.

He must have been lost in thought as he studied the last few outfits, giving you time to let your own wander around the rest of the shops.

It had been a long time since you had this much fun, and even as you crossed through the threshold of the store and looked around at its overpriced goods, you wanted nothing more than to treat yourself like the beautiful omega he seemed to see.

There were some stringy pieces in the back, all lace and a little fabric. Not quite your style, so you kept browsing. There were a few baby doll dresses, some with fluff, and one that was nearly see-through. You eyed the black mesh bashfully, only now feeling just a bit in over your head.

You pinched the fabric, a little surprised at how silky the mesh was between your fingers.

You pulled it off the rack, sizing it up against your body, before shifting your eyes towards the changing room and thinking about what a good picture this beauty would make.

By the time your clothes were off and the dress was on, you knew it would be an immediate purchase before you even snapped the photo. You almost wanted it to be a surprise, but you craved this new kind of attention. To push past the edge of flattery into something deeper, maybe even darker.

Bucky stared at the small screen as he tried to navigate to any new photos, only to have it buzz between his fingers. It was you in a thin black nightie, showing him just a glimpse of everything he’d been pining to see. The subtle dips of your body and bare skin, the apex of your smooth thighs still hidden under the black hem, and the dark circles of your soft nipples nearly totally visible through the sheer fabric over your breasts.

He felt the air being punched out of his lungs like a blow to his stomach. It was one of the few times he would curse himself for not having a more modern phone because he couldn’t zoom in further.

‘Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now?’

You replied with a cheeky ‘just a little’ before another photo flooded over his dinosaur of a phone.

This time you were facing away from the mirror, showing the contours of the back of your body that were now visible. You’d tried to bend your leg so it popped your bottom out in a desirable pose. It did just as you’d wanted, giving him a view of the cleft of your round ass as if the negligee were melting away to finally reveal your bare body.

He had to close the phone just to better calm himself so his building erection could leave as quickly as you’d given it to him. He’d never hear the end of it if he walked out, as it began to strain against his jeans.

There was no question now, even before his last message came through. You would absolutely be buying this one.

Chapter 6

Tags : @bethyruth @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr @buckysdoll85 @lendeluxe @meowmeowyoongles @heletsmelovehim @mcira @buckysbaby-doll @serendipitouslife90 @unicornicopia1 @animegirlgeeky @matchat3a @darkdemeter @onyxwolf @thebuckybarnesvault @nicestgirlonline @jbuckybarnesfan @val-writesstuff @birdenthusiastez @ozwriterchick

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vaspider · 2 years ago

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youve got a lot of really great thoughts on a transphobia and homophobia, tbh more critical thinking than most people on here, and i was wondering how much you knew about the theory of rapid onset gender dysphoria/if youd be comfortable sharing your thoughts on the ridiculous idea

It was explicitly invented by transphobes as a means of delegitimizing trans identity, and that invention was backed up by a "study" in which the person running the study never spoke to any trans people or to any professionals providing care for trans people, only spoke to the parents of trans minors, and those parents were specifically recruited from forums for anti-trans parents.

The paper which supposedly coined ROGD was taken down for a while and corrected. Further studies have found no basis for ROGD.

What's really interesting is in the cache of emails which became public earlier this year from a former detransitioner there's a paper trail which pretty clearly indicates that the term was actually created on a very heinous website called 4th/wave/now (forgive my anti-search slashes, these people are awful) well prior to the study.

Hey, you want to guess where the parents for this study were recruited from? If you guessed "the one where the term was invented," you're right!

But wait, there's more!

It appears from the journalistic work done by Mother Jones, Jude Doyle, and Julia Serano, that this term was created by an anti-trans activist who works extensively with right-wing think tanks and who went to great lengths to hide that she invented the term.

Jude Doyle:

Finding anti-trans narratives that would “sell” to the general public was a constant concern for this crowd, and Shupe says it didn’t much matter if the narratives were based in fact or not. Marchiano, for instance, eagerly watched the spread of the ROGD theory — “[transfeminist writer and researcher Julia] Serano has already written a takedown,” she exulted in one August 2018 email. Shupe suspects Marchiano’s role is larger than the public knows: “Marchiano never explicitly said she is the inventor of ROGD, but the evidence points to her, and she’s listed as a contributor to the [Lisa Littman] study on PLOS One,” she writes to me. “My ‘opinion’ is that Marchiano and the 4thWaveNow folks are behind the ROGD study, and Littman merely fronted it for them to make it appear unbiased.”

Jude Doyle again:

On July 2, Shupe sent Marchiano a link to Jones’ blog post telling her “you’ve upset Zinnia again.” (Shupe had a tendency to send Marchiano news of ROGD, and to attribute the theory to “you” — that is, to Marchiano — whether Marchiano was explicitly named or not. In the communications I’ve reviewed, Marchiano does not reject the attribution.) Marchiano responded by saying that Jones had done something to “make her nervous” — namely, she’d dug up a blog post about ROGD that Marchiano had written under her own name.

Julia Serano:

If all of this is true — that Marchiano ran YCTP and invented ROGD — then it would follow that Marchiano was also likely skepticaltherapist, the supposed parent of a trans child who invented the idea of “transgender social contagion” in the first place.

Julia Serano again:

Also on March 15, 2016, at 6:07am (so very early in the day, likely before the aforementioned YTCP piece is published), skepticaltherapist posts her final comment on 4thwavenow before mysteriously disappearing. In a reply to someone named Starrymessenger, skepticaltherapist says: 'I wanted to mention that this month’s Psychotherapy Networker is focusing on trans youth issues, and the tone of each article is uncritically celebratory — lots of mentions of “courage,” and “bravery.” You may need a subscription or at least an account to comment, but I have so far.'

At the time of this comment, "Lisa" is the *only* person to have posted a comment on this particular Psychotherapy Networker article, as the 2nd comment doesn't appear until later that evening (7:30:15 PM on March 15th; both 4thwavenow & Psychotherapy Networker appear to be based in the U.S., so the should be only a few hours apart, if at all). Therefore, "Lisa" and skepticaltherapist must be the same person.

Did you catch all of that?

This is a fraudulent "diagnosis" explicitly invented by an anti-trans psychologist who at times has used sockpuppets to manipulate online conversations, claimed at times to be the mother of a trans child, or maybe it was her friend who had the trans child, or maybe she just knew somebody who just randomly decided he was a trans boy after going on tumblr. (Boy, does Lisa Marchiano hate Tumblr, lol.)

After inventing this diagnosis and pushing it on a forum for parents who don't like that they have trans kids, Marchiano then approaches a different researcher and uses this other researcher to launder this term, launching it into the verbal stratosphere, while explicitly working with right-wing groups who used this "evidence" to manufacture anti-trans bills. This list of right-wing groups and individuals includes the Alliance Defending Freedom, the "American College of Pediatricians," -- not to be confused with the American Academy of Pediatrics, the legitimate organization, ACPeds is a fringe right-wing group.

They literally made all of this up, this idea that transmasculine people specifically are being "infected" by online sources, and then they laundered it through a shitty study and tried to hide the laundering they did, so that shit like this can happen:

The president of the American Principles Project, a member of the coalition, recently told the New York Times that his group’s goal is to eliminate all transition care, starting with children because that’s “where the consensus is.”

This isn't about protecting children or any bullshit like that, and it's not about this fallacious "disorder" because it doesn't exist -- and they know it doesn't exist. They know it doesn't exist because they were the ones who made it up.

Like... what else is there to say? It's like if I made up Purple Big Toe Disease and claimed that all people taller than 5'10" and born on a Tuesday have Purple Big Toe Disease and should not be able to buy aspirin, because it's G-d's plan that people who have Purple Big Toe Disease should not prevent themselves from feeling the pain that G-d has planned for them, and then I asked someone to write a paper about PBTD and pretend I wasn't the one who made it up so I could point at the paper and be like le gasp, PBTD is the number one problem! We need to stop everyone over 5'10" and born on a Tuesday from being able to buy aspirin! And then some dude in South Dakota starts writing up bills in consultation with a bunch of Evangelical lawyers to deny basic health care to people over 5'10" and born on Tuesdays.

If it sounds fucking ridiculous, it's because it is.

#trans issues #the lie of ROGD

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stitchyblogs · 16 days ago

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my curse is that i keep falling in love with peacock shows that a) people forgot they have a subscription to, or b) keep getting cancelled- but if you DO have peacock and you want 20+ recs hit a stitchy up, yooooo

NUMBER ONE please watch The Resort. It’s about love and grief and going on a magical realism vacation in the mayan riviera and playing detective on some missing teen’s old ass pre smartphone cell phone 🤳🏼🌴

(definitely serves as a stand alone miniseries, but i’d love more)

Look at this cast and tell me you’re not like “ohh.” THE RESORT. NOW.

2!!!! WE ARE LADY PARTS

a comedy about a British punk rock band named Lady Parts, which consists entirely of Muslim women. One of whom is obsessed with Don McLean, which speaks di-fucking-rectly to teenage stitchy

threeeeee is BRILLIANT MINDS, the medical drama show i would make if you held me hostage. I would say “there are too many doctor shows already!!!” And youd’d say, “make one anyway!!! I have a weapon!!” But this doctor show is Special. It’s based on the work and character of neurologist Oliver Sacks, who i’ve been fascinated by since doing the opera adaption of The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat in college (brag). It’s kinda like if House had old school Quantum Leap levels of empathy and 🏳️‍🌈

gif by @pedro-reed THIS SHOW IS LIKE A HUG. Did i MENTION mandy patinkin cameo that rocked my world??? Btw???!

shuttup i fucking loved the treasure of foggy mountain. Its number 4. i said what i said

FIVE! Speaking of films on peacock, you know Conclave is on there right? RIGHT?! It’s the Mean Girls of pope movies. It’s everything to me, a cradle catholic who thinks canon Jesus was pretty lit, its the fandom I can’t gel with. And Ralph Fiennes has to care for his dead boss’s army of turtles need i say more

Okay back to tv series… MR MERCEDES! It’s stephen king doing some hardboiled detective shit that only baaaarely steps out of reality. Like. One toe. One and a half. Shout out to all my Brendan Gleeson fuckers, i know you’re out there.

Everyone else… You might not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like.

are we on 7? We’re on 7. It’s MRS DAVIS. Betty Gilpin is a nun raised by shady Las Vegas magicians who is Hot For Jesus and on a mission to destroy Artificial Intelligence and her mommy issues. My flabbers were gasted by this perfection.

(Complete narrative btw!)

EIGHT. Do you love Stephanie Hsu??? Do you enjoy Nahnatchka Khan’s other work? Check out LAID. A sex comedy that is very preposterous and if we do not get a s2 I will be haunted forever. my Number 1 nepo baby Zosia Mamet is also here and she is not playing around

NINE is a total left field premise. Claudia O’Doherty and Craig Robinson go into business hunting exotic pythons for cash. This might be the peak hustle culture show about a Tenuous Job. I have never touched a snake in my life and i’m gripping my guts from laughing like “so tru bestie!!”

TEN is a P.S.A. Friends, i need you to know Peacock has some golden oldies. Is Little House On The Prairie your show when you’re sick on the couch? Did you dad raise you on old Quantum Leap? Have you been meaning to meet my best friend Mr. Detective Columbo!? They are HERE!

awoooo!! 11 is WOLF LIKE ME. Josh Gad is an american dad living in australia for some illusive reason… idk… anyway his daughter has a serious anxiety disorder he is carefully managing, and uhhhhh guess what his new girlfriend Isla Fisher is a werewolf. LET GIRLS BE MONSTERS.

Uhm i think I’m gonna have to stop here and re blog to add more. Too many images! 😅

#peacock tv #conclave #wolf like me #brilliant minds #mrs davis

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elizabeth-chambers-author · 1 year ago

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A free sample of Diaper Discipline at the ABDL Academy Book 2: Sadie's Spanking

Read the full story now on Kindle, free with your Kindle Unlimited Subscription!

“Lay still, Sadie,” Nanny Penelope said, giggling as she lubricated a thermometer with the supplies she had in her apron. “I just want to check your bottom real quick, while I’ve got you tied down.”

I whined through the gag as I felt her part my bottom cheeks to find my back door, and easily slid the thermometer inside of me. I felt my face burn with embarrassment as I felt the thermometer spin from side to side, sliding deeper and deeper.

“I know that feels funny, doesn’t it sweetie?” Nanny Penelope said. “But it’s the most accurate way for me to make sure you’re healthy, because babies just can’t handle it any other way…”

I took several deep breaths through my nose as I looked up at her. I don’t even think she even believed I was sick, she just wanted to do this to me because she could.

Of course… it wasn’t all terrible, if my exposed privates had anything to say about it.

“Huh, what’s this I see, Sadie?” Nanny Penelope cooed. “It looks like you are a little wet down there, but not with tinkles!”

I kept breathing, and tried to keep my composure as Nanny Penelope touched my princess parts, noticing that I wasn’t just embarrassed by having my temperature taken rectally… I was turned on…

“Does baby Sadie like it when I do this?” Nanny Penelope said, twisting the thermometer, and gently pushing it in and out of my backdoor. “That’s quite the big girl feeling I see for such a little baby, is this what was bothering you, sweetie?”

NO! Well, kind of, but no! Not that this time!

I wanted to escape and curl up into a ball, but I was trapped in Nanny Penelope’s delightfully devious trap, and there was no hiding my shame.

“It’s such a pretty little kitty too,” Nanny Penelope. “Such a shame that it has to be in diapers because you’re just a little – I know lots of big girls that would love to play with this little toy of yours.”

That’s it – they must know something! They can’t just keep teasing me like this.

Somehow, the tears stopped. Nanny Penelope stopped my tantrum, and only her voice could be heard in the nursery as the other littles began to fall back asleep, while I was given her full attention.

“And little girls can’t touch themselves either, that would be naughty behavior,” Nanny Penelope said. “So what should I do about this, Sadie? Should I take care of this little problem you’re having?” There’s no way… there’s no way she actually will, right?

Having gone over a month without a real orgasm, it wasn’t going to take much to make me cum. I never thought it would happen in a crib, with my diaper wide open and my nanny in full control, but I was this close to getting the college experience most girls dreamed of.

Please, nanny… don’t stop.

I closed my eyes, clenched my fists, and earnestly hoped that she’d give me a release. Maybe that would be all I needed to get through this afternoon.

And maybe I could finally get some sleep too…

Gently, Nanny Penelope maneuvered the thermometer to just barely touch the spots that drew my breath away. My heart raced, my blood boiled, my ears…

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

“All done!” Nanny Penelope said as she removed the thermometer. “Your temperature’s normal, so maybe you are just constipated…”

…No… NO NO NO!

Nanny Penelope wiped the thermometer clean with a baby wipe before putting it back into its container to be used in another little later.

“I think that’s enough fun for you now, Sadie girl,” Nanny Penelope said. “But I can at least freshen up your baby powder to make sure that leaky little thing doesn’t cause any issues later.”

I couldn’t believe it, she took it right out of my grasp. I was so close to maybe getting the relief I had wanted for so long…

I couldn’t even call what I did next crying. I wailed through my pacifier as I smelled a fresh dusting of baby powder puff up towards my nose as Nanny Penelope sealed my diaper shut again.

“Awwww, are you still a fussy girl?” Nanny Penelope teased. “I think someone is just overtired because they didn’t take their nap today, or any day really.”

I’m not tired! I’m not a baby!!!

“That’s right, sweetie,” Nanny Penelope continued, stroking my hair as she loomed over me. “We know that you’ve been having trouble sleeping, and we hoped that you would learn sooner why. But I guess some little girls just need to figure it out the hard way, don’t they?”

The hard way… discipline.

Nanny Penelope pulled out her walkie-talkie and proclaimed that I was more than ready to be taken away for a bottom busting.

“Penelope to Natalie, your demonstration subject is nice and fussy like you asked for,” she said. “Come on over when you’re ready.”

Straining against my restraints, I was powerless to do anything but wait for the Nanny who organized this whole situation to come and retrieve me. Nanny Penelope locked the crib bars into place and teased me once more before exiting the nursery.

“See you later, Sadie,” she said softly. “I can’t wait to powder that little bottom once it’s nice and red this evening!”

----

Are you ready for more? Check out Diaper Discipline at the ABDL Academy Book 2: Sadie's Spanking on Amazon, available with Kindle Unlimited.

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autumnslance · 4 months ago

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FFXIV Write 2024: 27 Memory

(Hey it's the practically tradition, annual future fic! Spoilers for Endwalker's patch storyline.)

“Did you want the radio on this morning?” Tillie asked as she set out breakfast.

“Please,” Iyna answered, easing herself into her chair. Her right leg was stiff and aching this morning thanks to a shift in the weather. Even Viera grew old eventually, though she had never expected to be one of them with all the adventures and danger she had been through in her long life.

Tillie turned on the radio, the morning host going over said weather report while Iyna ate. There were also the morning’s newspapers to peruse. She liked to keep a few subscriptions rotating, to see where the biases were and who she had to write stern letters to.

Well, dictate to her assistant. Her handwriting was still shite, and her typing skills weren’t as good as they used to be. Her wrists and fingers ached too easily these days.

The weather report ended, with a brief word from the morning’s sponsor—some chocolatey beverage powder—and the next forty-five minutes of music began before general news. There was a brief identification of the song title and singer if it had lyrics, but otherwise the announcer remained silent.

Iyna was chewing on jam-covered toast when notes she had not heard in decades struck her ears. They had none of the magic of the old minstrel’s performances—regulations wouldn’t allow it for many good reasons—and there was a modern stylizing, but the song was unmistakably one of his, commemorating and embellishing on one of the Warrior of Light’s victories.

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. It had all begun with a map they hadn’t been sure was real. They had found the treasure—and a gateway to the Thirteenth, and thus had begun a new adventure: to search the Void to find the lost Great Wyrm Azdaja, sister to Vrtra, the Satrap of Radz-at-Han.

They had not expected the twists and turns along the way. Had not expected Zero, or the Fiends, or Golbez. None of them had expected Zeromus, and the dive into Golbez’s domain on the moon’s reflection to fight the draconic voidsent.

Iyna remembered how close it was; the cracks in reality between the Thirteenth and the Source, the creature’s rage as it hammered them again and again with draconic void magics. Lotus draped over C’oretta’s head as she flopped to the ground. Dark had her axe that day, standing before the others, heaving and snarling as the darkness attempted to reconstitute. Aeryn straightening, rapier ready, about to rush in again. Zero’s hopeful light, able to pierce the deepest darkness. Vrtra’s call. The simulacra falling as a small dragonet manifested with the help of her brother’s Eye.

The song was coming to an end. “Who was the artist?” Iyna asked. “I missed it.”

“I don’t think they said yet,” Tillie replied. “Probably after, before they introduce the next one.”

Iyna nodded, and listened for the announcer. She smiled as he identified the modern artist as Nadim Ranaz, commemorating the two hundredth anniversary of Lady Azdaja’s return with a new rendition of the classic ballad. Ranaz was also a distant blood relation to the Warrior of Light, and his musical interests included rediscovering and modernizing the songs and ballads of his many-times-removed cousin, to spread and preserve them in the current era.

“It’s been some time since I’ve visited Thavnair,” Iyna mused. “Tillie, would you—”

“On it,” her assistant replied, pulling up contact information and beginning arrangements.

Two hundred years. Azdaja no longer needed her brother’s Eye, her own aether replenished, though she still had plenty of regrowing to do to reach her full power again. It would be nice to visit the dragons, to speak of old times, of old friends, and reminisce about that wild era before seeing the fruits of their labor in the peace and prosperity of modern Thavnair.

Iyna would also have to make a visit to Ranaz, sharing her carefully kept copies of the old minstrel’s songs—most of them from Aeryn’s own extensive collection.

Both of her old friends would like that. That wandering minstrel had only ever wanted to share his stories with the world, and Aeryn’s own bardic nature, so oft at war with her tendency to demure her heroics, would appreciate the songs being passed to a new generation.

After all, Iyna’s own self-appointed task as keeper of her friends’ legacies meant keeping those tales and their truths circulating for as long as she was able. To keep their memories alive in not only her heart but the rest of the world’s.

She wasn’t out of the fight yet.

She also was not at all the singer that Dark or Aeryn had been, but hummed a few bars anyway as she left the kitchen to prepare for her next adventure.

“Tales of loss and fire and faith...”

#final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2024 #lyn writing #Endwalker #Void Arc #Future Fic #Iyna Cauld

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creepyclothdoll · 1 month ago

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The King of Crash Nation

Skeep: Hey cringebros and cringebabes– no intro today, you read the title, you saw the thumbnail, no this isn’t clickbait. We have a very special guest today who you might recognize. Now, you might think I’m sitting across from Cass “Cash” “Crash” Bellamy, also known as “The Keyblade Master of Financial Freedom,” also known as “Keyblade Karen,” but you might be wrong.

Crash: You would be wrong.

Skeep: I’ve been talking to my guest for awhile already, and I have to say, I’m flummoxed. I’m not gonna say I believe everything you’re saying, but I think it’s worth listening to.

Crash: Listen, if I wasn’t experiencing this myself, I would think I was insane. I’m… honestly still not sure. Logically, I understand that some sort of psychotic break is the most likely explanation for what I’m–

Skeep: Before we get to the good stuff, I just wanna thank our sponsor for today, GRIX. GRIX is a beverage subscription service you can trust. Not only do GRIX beverages have anywhere between two to five times the caffeine of standard energy drinks, but every drink is packed with 200 different minerals. Take the standard number of minerals in food and multiply that by a hundred, that’s how many diverse minerals are in these drinks. Some of these minerals you’ll only find in GRIX. Make sure you use a VPN when you sign up for GRIX. GRIX comes in discreet packaging to throw off any prying government eyes at the post office, so don’t be shy! GRIX: It’s Too Alpha For The FDA! (Skeep takes a long drink from a black jug with a fluorescent label)

Crash: (Long sigh)

Skeep: So, why don’t you introduce yourself?

Crash: Sure. Of course. Hello, everyone, you recognize me as Cassidy Bellamy. But my name is Elizabeth Ann Coen. I’m from a small town in Illinois, and I’ve been a teacher for the last twenty years. High school, middle, and elementary, but mostly middle school. Three weeks ago, I went to sleep in my own bed, next to my husband, and when I woke up I was Cassidy Bellamy.

Skeep: That must have been a shock. That’s my personal nightmare, no offense.

Crash: No offense taken, Darren. No personal offense, I mean.

Skeep: You know how crazy that sounds. That’s the craziest part, guys, I’m not kidding, he knows– she– they–

Crash: She.

Skeep: Liz, can I call you Liz?

Crash: (Another sigh) I suppose you can.

Skeep: Liz knows how crazy this sounds, that’s what I’m trying to say. And that’s crazy, because Crash would never. I mean, the Crash that we all know and love– or hate–

Crash: I’m well aware of Cass Bellamy’s long history of delusional behavior and compulsive lying. I wish I wasn’t.

Skeep: Assuming this is true– and, cringebros and cringebabes, this is just hypothetical– assuming this is all hypothetically true, had you heard of Crash before you… became him?

Crash: I actually had. Like I said, I’m a teacher. You’d be shocked at some of the things kids are watching online. I always think I’ve heard it all, and then someone drops something like “CashMunnyCoin” on me, “oh, did you hear the Keyblade Karen Meltdown guy is launching a cryptocurrency?” “oh, did you hear the Sora MLM fanfiction guy is going to jail for identity theft?” I’d heard the major beats of the story, but I didn’t realize it was all the same guy until I woke up in Cass Bellamy’s body.

Skeep: Just hearing those words come out of your mouth is like… I’m having an out-of-body experience right now.

Crash: Tell me about it.

Skeep: (Surprised laughter)

Crash: I think that if I had woken up as literally anyone else, maybe people would have believed me. Or, at least, maybe someone would have believed me.

Skeep: Crash– Liz– I want to believe you. I really do. Listen, I knew Crash as he was better than, I think, almost anyone except Jimspore and Sorasins, who obviously don’t count because they’re assholes. I’ve been following this guy– you– for twelve years. Crash does not talk the way you’re talking to me right now. And I’ve never seen Crash dressed that nicely, unless you count cosplay, and even then, his cosplay is shit.

Crash: (Nodding patiently) One of the first things I did, once I was in a mental state to do things, was to go to the thrift store and buy some nicer clothes. You know, not the sort of thing I would wear– but just a few nice, coordinated outfits. At first, I went for the sorts of things I wished my son would wear. Then I realized I was tending to go for androgynizing clothes, and I figured that was probably where I was most comfortable, given the situation. So it’s been a lot of these turtlenecks, a lot of these cardigans. In this body, I can pull off green very nicely, which was never the case in my real body. It made me look sickly.

Skeep: And you look good! I never thought I’d say this, guys, but Crash looks good. It just goes to show what a little effort can do for a guy. Like it can’t replace being toned, but it helps a lot. And, might I say, you actually look a little more toned than usual, too.

Crash: I’ve been going on lots of walks. Cass doesn’t have a job. So I walk most of the day, now. There are some nice places to walk around Las Vegas, which I never expected.

Skeep: Yeah, the hiking out there’s pretty amazing, I hear. Hey– just for contrast, guys, let’s watch a clip of Crash on our podcast with SlimeTimeJohn last year.

(The screen cuts to a past recording in a different, smaller studio. Cass Bellamy, dressed in full Sora cosplay, is ranting to two black-clad hosts in matching beanies holding jugs of GRIX).

Crash: Why should I pay taxes when I’m reinvesting in my hustle? The government is the real pyramid scheme!

Skeep: Crash, Crash, Crash, you don’t pay taxes?! Crash, that’s a federal crime, you dumb piece of shit.

SlimeTimeJohn: You’re live on camera. Folks, Crash Bellamy just admitted to tax fraud. Someone get the IRS in chat.

Crash: I never said that.

SlimeTimeJohn: You fucking said it just now!

Crash: I pay my taxes! I pay my taxes! I pay my taxes!

Skeep: Stop yelling! Stop yelling! Stop yelling! You fucking asshole. Jesus fucking christ.

Crash: There are pawns of darkness everywhere. There are pawns of darkness everywhere, and you know it because you are one. You know, you could become a good person if you actually read my books.

SlimeTimeJohn: Oh, I’ve read your plagiarized books. They’re garbage. Blocks of text copy-pasted from Kingdom Hearts fan wikis and generic motivational quotes.

Skeep: What’s in your books that could possibly make anyone a better person? Crash, I think just by talking to you, I become a worse person every day. I used to have hobbies, man, but now it’s just… finding out what new bullshit Crash is up to and reacting to it.

Crash: You’re just jealous of my entrepreneurial spirit! The spirit of Sora! The spirit of Financial Freedom!

Skeep: (Laughing) That’s the clip that went viral. I think you– he– also said something about how Jeff Bezos wasn’t spiritually evolved enough to understand Kingdom Hearts?

Crash: I’ll be honest– I don’t understand Kingdom Hearts.

Skeep: OHHH!!! Mike, clip that. That’s gonna go viral. That’s gonna be everywhere tomorrow.

Crash: I was a little too old for it when it came out, and my kids never really got into it. I’ve done some… research, in the last few weeks. The plot seems very difficult to follow, though.

Skeep: Well, now we know you’re not the real Crash.

Crash: I wish you meant that.

Skeep: Honestly, hand to god, I do, too. Now, Liz, can you tell us a little more about your life in Illinois?

Crash: Yes. I’m married, and I have two children. My hometown is sort of a tourist town, but only really for history buffs. I could go into more detail about where I’m from, but I don’t want to dox my family, if… if they still exist. We have a good school district. Nice old brownstone buildings. Lots that survived the Civil War. It’s a good place to live if you love history, like me. And it’s beautiful, too. Not like Vegas. Right on a river, lots of green space. I went to college a few towns over and got my Bachelor’s in Education. I always knew I wanted to teach history. My mom was a museum curator at the… well, one of the big important historical houses in our town. I’m considered very good at my job– I have to be, because if you want to teach history, you want to teach history there. It’s about as competitive as any middle school teacher position could be.

Skeep: Hold on. You said your family might not still exist? What do you mean by that?

Crash: I looked myself up. My social media pages are gone. I can’t log in to any of my old accounts. I’m not listed as faculty at the school I was teaching at just three weeks ago. There are women with the same name as me, but none of them have much else in common. For all intents and purposes, I never existed. Elizabeth Ann Coen never existed.

Skeep: But have you tried to look up your husband? Your kids? Your parents?

Crash: I can’t bring myself to do that.

Skeep: Because you’re scared they won’t be there?

Crash: Yes. And because I’m equally scared that they will. Because then, I’d have to contend with the idea of attempting to contact them. And I don’t want to subject them to that. I can’t imagine how scary it would be for my family to have someone like Cass Bellamy– with his record as a very unstable scam artist– approach them with all of this personal information claiming to be their wife, mother, or daughter. And it might be even worse if I find out they exist, but I choose not to contact them. That’s too terrible to even think on. And then… if they are simply gone… if they just never existed… that’s more awful than if they were dead.

Skeep: We just got a gift from Spunk Z., thank you Spunk Z! Mods, control the chat– nobody’s taking their shirt off in the studio today. Unless? Liz?

Crash: That’s part of the reason I chose your show. I know that, if they really are out there, they’ll never see this.

Skeep: I take offense to that. But I get it, you raised your kids right. Assuming they’re real.

Crash: You joke, but yes.

Skeep: No answer to taking your top off?

Crash: I’m not going to do that.

Skeep: If you’re telling the truth, they’re not really your nipples.

Crash: That’s why I’m not going to do it. I want to give this other person’s body privacy and respect. As much as I can, anyway.

Skeep: That’s more than the real Crash would ever say. If you really want to respect Crash, you should have come here in a knock-off Sora hoodie with a full-size bag of Takis.

Crash: There’s give and take.

Skeep: What’s Crash’s diet like? Or I guess, what’s your diet like as Crash? Rumor has it, he only eats hot chips and his shits are bright red. Is that true?

Crash: I eat what I can afford. Right now, that’s mostly Ramen. It got me through college, so I’m not unfamiliar with this diet. I’m smarter about using food pantry programs now, after two decades of living on a public school teacher’s salary.

Skeep: Right. Because Crash is totally bankrupt and facing a bunch of lawsuits for fraud and shit.

Crash: Which I’m charmingly reminded of every time I leave his apartment.

Skeep: That must have been an adjustment, getting used to Crash’s adoring fans.

Crash: I’d call them stalkers.

Skeep: Some of Crash Nation can go overboard. Better not be any of you cringebros or cringebabes misbehaving! Did you know who you were right away? What was it like, waking up in another person’s body?

Crash: At first, I thought maybe I’d broken a bone or pulled muscles or something. There was no pain, but everything about me felt wrong. My legs, too long. My neck, too short. All the weight was in the wrong places, and there was skin in new places, and no skin in other places– I felt like I was wearing a strange suit, glued to my bones. The reflection in the mirror was a total stranger. I don’t think I need to explain that it was a nightmare. But discovering the identity of this man– this human suit I was now trapped in– was worse.

Skeep: I bet.

Crash: People are constantly trying to approach me. They’ll sit outside of the apartment, they’ll honk their horns to keep me awake, they’ll film me and call me. When I first tried to reach out for help on social media, people messaged me with all kinds of threats and just weird, mean stuff, but the worst ones were the ones who acted like they really wanted to help me, like they believed me. They were the cruelest. I picked up very quickly on the fact that I was living the life of a very, very unpopular person, and a very, very popular target.

Skeep: You mentioned you couldn’t get into your social media as Liz. But you can get into Crash’s Twitter and stuff. That’s very interesting.

Crash: His phone was already logged in to them. It unlocks with facial recognition.

Skeep: At least that’s convenient.

Crash: At the very very least, it got me in contact with you. I’m sure you wouldn’t have taken an interview with someone from a strange new account, coming at you with this premise.

Skeep: Well, you never know. I’m flattered you chose my show, though. I’m sure, if you keep this story up, you’ll get real popular with the freak circuit, astral projection and past lives and switching bodies and shit. Glad I got to be first in line to hear it.

Crash: You were one of the only people on earth who would take an interview with Cass Bellamy. And of my limited options, you were the shock jock who had been the most fair to him in the past.

Skeep: “Shock Jock?” I don’t know if I like that.

Crash: Sorry. It’s what we called this sort of thing in my day.

Skeep: How old are you, Liz?

Crash: Forty-eight.

Skeep: A tight forty-eight? Or have those years and two kids taken their toll?

Crash: Let’s move on, Darren.

Skeep: No shame, Liz, we love MILFS on this channel.

Crash: Sure. I’m a MILF.

Skeep: Mike, clip that. And, Liz, how long is this tenancy going to last, do you think? Is this a temporary thing, or is Crash just gone and Liz here to stay forever?

Crash: I don’t know. I pray, constantly, that I’ll wake up at home again. I’ll be back with my family. Even if… well, I’ve imagined that maybe if I’m here, in Cass’s body, maybe Cass is in mine, somewhere else. In some other world. The world where Elizabeth Coen exists. You know what terrifies me most about that?

Skeep: The idea that Crash Bellamy is turning your whole life upside-down and probably getting you sent to prison or a mental institution and scaring the shit out of your kids?

Crash: Well, yes, but also, no… it’s that in my reality, I know I had heard of the Keyblade Karen. I’d heard of Cass Bellamy. I’d heard of CashMunnyCoin. I think one of my students even dressed up as him, dressing up as that character he likes, Sora, for Halloween. Bellamy existed in my reality, but I don’t exist here. So what does that mean?

Skeep: You want to know what I think?

Crash: I can guess.

Skeep: Okay, go ahead. Guess.

Crash: I’ve thought it, too. Cass Belamy was– or is– a profoundly unstable person with delusions of grandeur who is facing multiple legal charges and several lawsuits at the moment. He’s bankrupt, all of his financial ventures have publicly and spectacularly failed, he owes possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars to MLM companies, he’s infamous, he’s endlessly mocked and harassed both online and in real life. His life is hell. Maybe he finally just snapped. Maybe I’m just something he made up. Another personality that he invented to take over his life and handle his problems so he didn’t have to be Cass Belamy anymore. The human mind is mysterious and terrifying. Who knows how much it can fabricate? An entire lifetime of memories, even? Knowledge of subjects, skills, possibly learned on some subconscious level, heard about in passing, memorized and kept in some deep mental record of everything we see and hear throughout a day… Maybe there really is no Elizabeth. Maybe Elizabeth’s life is just a nice dream. But if it is a dream– if I am a dream– what happens if Cass Belamy starts to wake up? Where do I go? I’m terrified that he’ll come back to himself, and I’ll be just… nonexistant, worse than if I’d died… but even more terrified that, perhaps, he’ll just slowly slip back through the cracks in me, and I’ll just… be him. I’ll just be Cass Belamy. His mind, his life, his torment, my consciousness, forever.

Skeep: That’s not even close to what I was gonna say. I was gonna say I suspect you’ve just been pulling a fast one on us all these years, Crash.

Crash: …What?

Skeep: I think that the real scam is Crash Bellamy. You’ve been coming on this show for years, acting all fucked-up, doing crazy stuff, making cringe tiktoks and putting out those godawful e-books, all for attention. You’ve been playing into the lolcow bit for over a decade and now you’re finally over it, once it stopped being profitable.

Crash: Why would anyone do that? No one would do that.

Skeep: Crash Bellamy would, if he had the brains to plan that far ahead. Maybe you didn’t make money off of it, but you got attention. And in this world, what’s the difference? Hey– thank you, Guzzler69! Appreciate the donation. Proves my point.

Crash: Darren. This man is so financially ruined, there’s no coming back from it. You’re suggesting that Cass– that I faked being… what, an anime game fanboy who fell for a bunch of get-rich-quick schemes and then started trying to run his own? You can look up the facts of the lawsuits against him. No one in their right mind would make the financial choices this man did.

Skeep: I’m not saying you’re in your right mind. I’m saying you’ve been smarter than you look since day one. You’re just tired of the grift.

Crash: I– (sighs) Alright. I understand why you’d think that. And I understood when I came on this show that there was no chance I’d ever convince you of the veracity of my experience. It’s a crazy story. I’m the definition of an unreliable source.

Skeep: But you came on the show anyway, because, Crash, the one thing that’s true about you deep down to your core is that you love attention. If you really were someone else– anyone else– anyone sane, at least– you’d stay far away from the spotlight for the rest of your life. If I woke up as Crash Bellamy, I would just drop off the face of the earth. Or worse– I can’t say what I’d do, because it’s not advertiser-friendly, but let’s just say no one would ever see Crash Bellamy ever again.

Crash: You know, I watched your show before I came on?

Skeep: I’d sure hope you did, especially since you’ve been on it.

Crash: This thing you have here, Darren– it’s a disturbing little ecosystem. It’s exactly the same bullying that middle school children participate in. Exactly.

Skeep: I disagree, but Crash, you’re on the internet. What do you expect?

Crash: Cass Bellamy’s original sin was never fraud or identity theft– it was always the sin of being ‘cringeworthy.’ It was that he was weird. You boys were punishing him for that long before any of this crypto business started. The bad things that Cass has legitimately done were always just excuses– they made what you were doing feel socially acceptable.

Skeep: No, no, no. See, now I know you’re Crash. Nobody sane thinks that your crypto scam or any of your other scams are excusable just because you’re mentally ill or whatever you claim.

Crash: I’m not excusing Bellamy’s long history of attempting to run scams or stealing credit card information and so on and so on. But I watched your show, Darren. The earliest episodes. And I watched Jimspore and Sorasins and SlimeTimeJim. I’ve seen the way you and people like you chased this man around when he was just some naive eighteen-year-old kid who over-identified with a video game, and whose primary characteristic was his naivety– willing to believe that anyone offering to make him rich quick was being genuine. I’ve met plenty of children just like Cass Bellamy. Children who should have been getting extra help. Children failed by the system, and failed by their parents. And I’ve met plenty of children just like you, too, Darren. And unfortunately, the Darrens of the world outnumber the Cass Bellamys.

Skeep: Unfortunately? You know how I know you’re full of shit, Crash? Because you haven’t said Crash this whole time. You use his given name. Everyone calls him Crash. No one calls him Cass. Everyone hates him. I think probably even his own parents hate him.

Crash: Sometimes, teaching middle school, it’s like watching starving piranhas in a tank. They swim around in formation, hunting endlessly, hunting nothing– until one moves wrong, gets bit, starts to bleed. And once there’s blood in the water… they strip their companion’s bones in seconds. You’re on the eating side now, Darren, and I’d say you’re eating well. But you know your people. Jimspore and Sorasins and SlimeTimeJim. You know all these nice members of the chat, all your donors. You know better than I do that someday, you’ll be the one with their teeth ripping you apart.

Skeep: Wow. What do you think about that, chat? (A notification appears. Several new donations have come in.)

Crash: ... You know…

Skeep: What do I know, Crash?

Crash: My favorite bird is the indigo bunting.

Skeep: I did not know that.

Crash: Two springs ago, there was a pair of them in the thicket behind my house.

Skeep: Behind your house, or ‘Liz’s’ house?

Crash: … I’m not much of a birdwatcher. I’ve got a journal I never use and some binoculars but that’s it. But there was a day when it was sort of cloudy and I could see them really well from the stoop behind my house. I won’t call it a porch, just a concrete slab that we have a lawn chair on. I stayed there for almost four hours, just sitting and watching those little birds build their nest. I’d been putting off grading all afternoon and I was determined to keep putting it off, even if it meant becoming engrossed in the dramas of birds. They came and went. They squabbled with chickadees and squirrels. I realized that one of the birds was missing a foot. A cat got it, maybe. It’s a miracle it survived as long as it did. And still, it kept building that nest. At the start of the day, there was nothing there but a branch. By the end, there was a little thing like a teacup made of sticks and feathers and hair. My daughter brought me a cup of coffee. That’s when I realized my feet were so cold, they’d gone numb. It had been the heat of the coffee that reminded me how cold I felt. And I was overcome with this realization that that’s what love is, sometimes. Because when I stood up, as I warmed myself, those numb parts started to hurt. I guess, Darren, and Darren’s chat– I hope that someday, someone brings you a cup of coffee, and you suddenly feel all the places in you that have gone numb. I hope the hurt is worth the heat. And I hope that I wake up tomorrow at home.

Skeep: Wise words from our resident spiritually enlightened Keyblade Master of Financial Freedom, Crash Bellamy. That’s our episode today, folks– any last words, ‘Liz?’

Crash: Please– if you can help me get home, or if you know someone who can help me get home, help me. Spread this around. Make Skeep famous if that’s what it takes.

Skeep: Shockingly, a sentiment I agree with. Thanks for tuning in, cringebros and cringebabes, and remember– be nice, wash your ass, and cringe deeply, my friends.

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