#and we just kind of put that down to it doing weird stuff to our emotions and making us dissociate to all hell
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idk how to reconcile my new self with my old self. also i fucking hate waiting. GRAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
#delete later#im getting a taste of my own medicine bc when im overwhelmed depressed etc i don’t even open emails or dms or whatever and then ifeel guilty#and let them build up and run away from them and literally do not reply for years. but ive been waiting for like 5 different but related#replies for 3ish days at this point and im soooooo impatient omg i want to bash my head into the wall.. and afaik no one i messaged has#opened the message despite being active online elsewhere which is EXACTLY what i do so i have no right to complain at all. but still. omggg#i just have a simple question (me and the ps5 voice) reply to my message boy#purrs#also.. ok yeah im gonna be honest about it even if there are consequences lol. idk why im on such a mission to get back all my old#characters but if i don’t i can and will go crazy. i don’t even do that kind of thing anymore and d*viantart is an irreversibly warped#landscape due in part to capitalism and in part to own mistakes and selfish actions. and i truly feel like my tumblr mutuals are the only#ones who understand me and feel safe and cozy on here. but i miss my old internet home. and i really miss my old internet friends and seeing#all the jokes we had and how we were all like interconnected w the same adopt groups and stuff and now we don’t even talk… it makes me so#sad and i feel weird messaging them just for the purpose of asking if they can give me back characters i gave them 4 years ago like a) you j#just don’t do that kind of thing i don’t think but b) it feels so transactional and would make the part of saying hey our friendship was#important to me when i was a teenager and even though we don’t talk anymore i think of you fondly and wish you well. like lollllll. and i#feel cringe even tracking them down / messaging them bc we are all jn our 20s now… embarrassing. but i am so mad at myself for letting those#friendships wither (not that i have the spoons to sustain them these days anyway but still) and for not keeping bettr track of my characters#when i sold them and for giving them up in the first place and for letting my old internet life just fall apart due to neglect bc it puts me#in a bind to try to piece it together again no matter how i try it and i shouldn’t try anyway. but i am so tempted to rn. lol#* itd make saying stuff abt appreciating friendship weird bc there’s a transaction tied in (source: i did this and feel weird and bad)#like the way i want to SCREAM seeing that dA ate all of the journals i made when i was a 14 year old and turned them into glitched polls. th#the way the wayback machine has terrible unreliable records of everything and i can never get some stuff back / track some stuff down. pain#anyways it’s stupid bc i feel cozy and listened to and as connected as i have the energy to be to all of u guys so why am i doing this. but#i miss the dA stuff too and i wish it wasn’t cringe and i wish i could have everything that’s ever been part of me all in one place. lol#also this doesn’t even take into account my poetry community on dA on my other account who i also felt so safe and cozy with and i abandoned#that too and lost touch with basically everyone even though we all knew each others deepest secrets for years.. the heartsickness of it all#anyways mutuals who knew me on deviantart i am clutching both your hands with impassioned urgency and kissing u on the cheeks. that’s all
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I'm not even sure what's going on with our sleep schedule at this point but I think I've just accepted that it's fucked and there's gonna be a bunch of stuff over the next few weeks that's gonna keep fucking it up which is gonna be a nightmare but I can't exactly do much about it.
RIP to our emotional regulation and basically anything else that requires you to have slept at the right time for your body, not that were doing great with any of that stuff anyway
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#vent post#I mean we have spent 2 months not being able to sleep properly because we get woken up by pain constantly#we've been sleep deprived this entire fucking time so I'm not even sure how much of a difference this'll make#although I might just be depressed and/or dissociated enough that some amount of apathy has kicked in over it#because usually we would be freaking out really bad and I feel like if I think about it enough that will happen#but I don't wanna deal with that right now#we also felt weirdly apathetic about our sleep schedule getting messed up when that one antibiotic really fucked us up#and we just kind of put that down to it doing weird stuff to our emotions and making us dissociate to all hell
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So It was move in day, and as an RA I had to help and I did so by manually operating the elevator from 7:30am to 5:30pm But I did get gendered correctly literally 100% all today 😎 BUT FUNNI STORY --
So I wore just like a sock as a packer today, cuz that's usually what I do BUT because I kept getting crammed in an elevator, obviously a lot of people around me, and this one girl backed up into me like. fully and she's like. "Oh..oh my God. I'm so sorry" like 😭
I'm so sorry, I'm not happy to see you, that's a sock💀
#rambles#i just found it do funny sjdjdjsj#she got so red and then she had to proceed to just stand within an inch of me because there was no where else to go#i did love even the old dads eere like haha they got the 'little guy manning the elevator'#and how my height actually made me perfect for this job cuz i could fit in the corner and so could cram more ppl#there was this weird instance where it was literally just this old guy and a moving bin#and he like kind of put the bin really close to me at a weird angle. so it like kind of put me against the wall#and I said how you could probably move it so we could both have space but he said nah 'its more fun to pin you down'#and i just stood there like 0_0#i was so uncomfortable 😭 but whatever thabk god that only happened like once#everything was great tho#i enjoy sweltering weather and it was like 103 today and i love directing ppl and manually doing stuff#so this was literally tge perfect job for me#literally all day and afterwards when I was with my other co-workers and my bosses they kept saying heo whneever they say me how epic of#a job i did#and howni was do super efficient and how good i was at directing#god it felt good#i like being in charge ngl#but yeah move in day was a success!#then i had a meeting with my business partner and our workers#then my co whose also just like. my friend. we went out to get dinner together and ahhh#it was so nice. i love them sm when we just like. chill together#today was a good day! plus I started a new skincare routine that if you ask me about prepare because i will never shut up about it
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“lol you realize Barbie is only a marketing movie, right? it’s just SELLING STUFF, you know that right? capitalism? lol?”
You’re too late.
Like, you’re not wrong, but you are wildly late on this one.
No one is under the impression that this movie isn’t marketing a toy line.
But that toy line? Has been on this earth longer than you’ve been. Barbie is old. Barbie is everywhere. We’ve all seen a commercial if not owned at least one Barbie doll in our lifetimes (or a knock-off you get emotionally attached to even if the weird mean girl down the street keeps making fun of it) (fuck you Christie that doll was a hero)
Advertising is everywhere. I can’t turn the TV on without ads, even on streaming services that used to brag how ad-free they were. I can’t browse social media without ads. I can’t see a movie or a show without products being “subtly” shown off.
We’re haunted by ads at every goddamn turn, we can’t even talk to an old friend from high school without them trying to sell us something.
If you think you’re making some radical grand statement by pointing out that Barbie is a toy line made by a big company that wants to sell more things... bud. We know that.
We know.
Greta Gerwig seems like she had a lot of fun with this movie, the actors had a lot of fun, the set design is fun.
No one is looking forward to Barbie because we think it’s some kind of beautiful radical anti-capitalist message just WAITING to break the world of its delusions of consumerism. God, could you imagine?
We’re looking forward to a bunch of actors dressed in pink having a lot of fun. We know the movie will make people want Barbie stuff, maybe they’ll go out and buy it, maybe they’re too broke because the world is expensive right now and we’ve got bills. But if “this movie will advertise things to you” was a dealbreaker we’d never see anything.
Because Barbie isn’t unique in this. A LOT of modern movies just want you to buy things, or admire/join the American military, etc etc. Money runs things here. Even capitalism stans know it runs everything (though they’re generally okay with it). Ads are our lives even when we use ad blockers and do our best to ignore the ones we see.
We’re seeing Barbie because it looks silly and fun, not because we’re putting it up on a pedestal expecting it to change the world. And we’re kidding and being silly when we DO act like that. Because goddammit, IT’S BARBIE. We’re acting like we acted when we played with dolls as kids, we’re PLAYING, we’re having fun. When I was a kid I absolutely pretended my Barbies could save the world and were magical and powerful. Didn’t mean she actually was.
These are toys. And we like to play. That doesn’t erase the capitalist motivations of Mattel, but it doesn’t have to mean we “support” their evils. We want to play, we want to enjoy play, even when we’re trapped in a capitalist hellscape where like 80% of our day to day fun is sold to us
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Helper:Christmas
Arsenal Women x Child!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Guppy
"I...I don't understand. What's...What's going on?"
"Just keeping holding it up," Codi whispers to Rosa, who looks like she's about to lower the tinsel that she's holding up.
"I don't get it. What's going on?"
"We're decorating the tree."
"No, I get that. But why are we holding it up in a line?"
On her other side, Leah huffs. "Because Lia's raising a kid who doesn't like mess and gets freaked out by Christmas trees. Ow! Lia!"
Lia's elbow, none too kindly, digs a bit further into Leah's ribs.
"Don't make fun of her!" She snaps, imaginary hackles raised in annoyance at Leah's dismissal before turning to Rosa to explain, much more kindly. "Guppy...She gets a bit overwhelmed about this kind of stuff and these cretins like to go overboard until the tree's a big mess. So, Guppy gets to pick the theme and then we all decorate. Leah's exaggerating."
"I'm just saying! Maybe exposure therapy will be good for her! I love her, Lia, I do. You know that. But you have to admit, this-"
Lia whips her beads at Leah in annoyance.
"Alrigh! Alright! I get it! Sorry!"
Lia's not finished though as she points to practically everyone in line in turn. "None of you are allowed to talk about that kind of stuff while y/n's in the room too, do you understand? She's sensitive and I'm not letting any of you make it worse!"
"I think they get it," Mario intervenes quickly," No one wants to make her feel bad."
Rosa's kind of glad that Mariona did. She's never seen Lia angry before. Annoyed, yes. Overtired, yes. But never angry. Not truly anyway but she's heard how protective Lia gets over you.
You're not really an oddball. You're not overwhelmingly weird either. But something that Rosa's noted is that you're very particular. She's never met a child so particular in her life. You like things done in a certain way.
You get all fidgety and anxious if you're not allowed to do things in the way you want and tend to start things over if it hasn't gone perfectly. You flick the lights on and off twice in whatever room you leave and you always knock on doors twice.
Rosa's seen you on the team bus, getting Lia to buckle and unbuckle your seatbelt twice over just before the bus sets off to whatever away match they need to get to.
You're just...
Different.
It's clear that Lia knows that too and a lot of her energy is put into making sure no one makes you think that you don't fit in.
"Alright!" Kim comes in holding your hand and from what Rosa strains to hear from Mario and Lia's conversation, this is normal too.
Kim helps you pick out the theme.
You both whisper together, Kim clearly going along with your childish wonder and happiness. She crouches down at your side as you look between Rosa and Kyra's tinsel.
Rosa's holding a red one and Kyra's holding a gold one.
Kyra wiggles it enticingly in your face but your features all scrunch up at once as you move away from Kim to take Rosa's hand and then to choose Codi and her matching green tinsel as well.
"Alright," Kim says," And what about baubles?"
"Er..." You look at the rest of the team and all the baubles they hold up to you, suddenly overwhelmed with choices.
You look at Leah's glittery baubles and shake your head.
"Not-Not glitter ones."
Then you catch sight of Lia and Mario, immediately breaking away from Kim to go crashing into them.
"Mummy!" You gasp," You bought the special beads from home!"
Wound around what looks to be an old piece of cardboard, is a long string of silver beads.
"I did," Lia says," Because our tree is too little for them this year. I thought we could use them on the Arsenal tree."
You nod, head bobbing up and down happily before you also take Mario's hand, dragging her into your little group of chosen people without even looking at the bauble in her hands.
"Nah!" Leah complains," This is so unfair! Why can't I be chosen?"
"Because you clearly didn't choose a good bauble this year," Beth teases," Not like me."
"Not Beth's bauble either," You say to Kim.
"Wait...What? Come on, come back!"
Decorating the tree is a team effort because while you may have been the one to make your selection, you're much too small to decorate it all by yourself and Rosa's found herself with you on her shoulders as you strain to put a candy cane onto the tree.
"Careful," Lia warns her," Keep straight or she'll fall."
"Rosa's doing fine," Steph says," And it's not like Guppy is going to start throwing herself around. She's very responsible."
"I am, Mummy!" You say," Very responsible! I helped Mrs Gina find the missing gluestick lid yesterday!"
So, Lia ends up worrying from a distance and insists on being the one to lift you up so you can put the star on the tree before letting you down and leading you from the room without any more preamble.
"What's happening now?" Rosa whispers as it looks like everyone starts sitting down on the floor in a little circle that she has no option but to join.
"Lia's been doing this since Guppy was born," Caitlin explains," We're getting presents now. It was pretty cute the first time, little gifts in baby y/n's hands. It was her handprint the year she was born and then it was like little keychains? She's old enough to give them out by herself now."
The present Rosa gets is kind of soft and squishy and it doesn't rattle or anything when she holds it up to her ear and shakes.
"No opening until Christmas!" You say once everything's been given out and everyone's attention is on you," Because that ruins the surprise! You can only open them on Christmas!"
The little Arsenal teddy bear you got her sits on Rosa's desk for the rest of the season.
#woso x reader#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal x reader#arsenal wfc#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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Great Shift; We Didn’t Choose These Bodies…
Trevor:
I’m officially 2 months into the Great Shift and I’m about to go insane! You see before all of this craziness went down— I was a 18 year old scrawny gay boy who lived across the street. The body that seems to be now mine forever belonged to 47 year old Jason Dixon. He’s a handsome guy, works in construction, and has one son named Carson.
Now Carson, is someone I’ve known since I was young. He’s a couple years older than me and I hate to say it but he was kinda my sexual awakening. He was on the swim team and I remember seeing him in a speedo— something about it just woke me up. And now all of this time later I still get weak to the knees when I see him.
Now the hard part about all of this is that our community has chosen as a whole to “pretend” and live our lives in public as the body we are in.
Which can be hard given people have swapped with different genders, ages… it gets kinda weird. But when I’m out in public, I’m Jason. No one causes me Trevor anymore, well accept for Ben.
Ben is a guy who lived a couple blocks down from me, I really didn’t know Ben prior to the Great Shift. He was a middle aged gay guy who lived alone. And now he’s inside of Carson’s body.
We both now live under a house together that never belonged to us and are forced to pretend to be ‘father and son’ in public.
At home both of us have just really enjoyed each other’s company. We’re both gay and openly talk about guys, what we like about them, music, all kinds of stuff. The house is kind of our safe space to be ourselves.
Except him and I have one huge issue— we both are very attracted to each other’s bodies. Ben confessed to me one time while we were sitting on the couch together drinking a bottle of wine that Jason’s body is like the man of his dreams.
And I get it, Mr. Dixon is a good looking guy. I enjoy having his big muscled hairy body on a daily basis. Especially since he has a gigantic cock and a pair of sexy feet.
I guess they’re something he passed down to Carson because I can’t stop looking at them! I already had a foot fetish before this mess and I have to watch Ben strut around in his body… he never wears socks or a shirt or pants for that matter!
So what do I do in response? Well, I turned it up a notch. Not only did I strip down to less but I stopped wearing underwear around the house. I’ll free ball so he can see my sexy daddy junk flopping around as I walk. And boy did I get his attention!
He can’t take his eyes off of it!
That lead to the back and forth mirror selfies… both of sending more and more risky photos of each other.
And then came Ben placing Carson’s big smelly feet on my lap… I know he knows I have a thing for feet! He looks over at me with a very cheeky ton and says, “my feet are killing me! Could you rub them?”
And of course I said yes, I rubbed his feet for 15 minutes until I knew I couldn’t take anymore!
I hightailed it to the bathroom, locked the door, and wanked one out. I knew in that moment, I was done with games. I need to address this.
So that night, we sat on the couch after dinner watching a movie. I wrap my arm around him and he freezes up.
“Sorry need to stretch out a bit, I say to him.”
He acknowledges my excuse and leans his on me.
I start rubbing up and down his forearm softly wondering if he’s going to do something about it.
He says nothing… a few moments later, Ben puts his feet on mine and starts rubbing his toes back and forth.
I lift my head up and look at him. I kiss him on the cheek. He looks taken aback by it.
“Trev, you know we can’t.”
“And why the fuck not?”
“Because we are technically father and son…”
“That’s such a BS excuse, you flirt with me for weeks now. You and I aren’t related. Now these bodies might be but who the hell has to know?”
“Yeah but what if we get caught?”
“We won’t… now just relax.”
I grab his junk and lets out a yelp noise.
“You’ve toyed with me for too long Ben. You and I are going to explore every inch of each other starting tonight. You’re gonna come sleep in daddy‘s bed for now on do you understand?”
“Fuck…”
I pulled his pants down and fully expose him. I see his beautiful cock, really for the first time. It’s so hard and already leaking. I’ve bend my head down and gingerly lick become off of his head. I knew that been like to be dominated. We both shared our fantasies with each other. He’s always wanted some handsome hairy bearded muscular daddy to boss him around. And that’s what I’m gonna do.
“ Do you understand daddy‘s orders?,” I say to him. he knows his head. I grabbed his dick and play with the head of his cock, running my thumb back-and-forth on it.
“ I said did you understand daddy’s orders? I need to hear you.”
“Yes—“
“ yes what?”
“Yes daddy!”
“ good now let’s head to bed, daddy needs you to use that pretty mouth of yours on his massive cock.”
I pull off my shorts and out comes Jason’s massive dick that I know he’s been fantasizing for a long time now.
“ Trevor, this is so fucking hot. Thank you for doing this. I’ve been wanting the touch that body for so long. I wanna suck your cock so bad. I wanna feel up and down that hairy chest. I wanna smell those big manly feet. I want you to cuddle at night. God I’m so happy this is finally happening. Deep down since this whole swap thing happened it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Not only are you in the body of my dreams, but I really like you.”
“ fuck Ben! Way to kill the mood with that last part, I really fucking like you too. How about we just stick to role-playing and worry about our emotions later. Daddy’s worrying as fuck lol.” 
“ shit you wanna get really crazy what about if you’re sexy ass son talk to you tonight?”
“ that’s hot as shit you know I’m a bottom!”
“ yeah but you’re gonna have to tell me every now and then especially with that massive dick of yours.” 
“ well then I want a foot job. You know I like feet and you know what I like those feet. Which by the way, you’re such a dick for making rub them for like 30 minutes the other day. I literally had to run to the bathroom and jerk one out.”
“ ha ha I literally I knew it!”
“So you ready?”
“Yep!!”
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for the longest time my family used to host one of the biggest haunted houses on my block: elaborate, themed amateur haunts that pearled out along our lawn for one-night-only. spinning circus wheel-of-terrors and walkthrough alien crash-landings and spiders that arched over our driveway, leaking venom onto your feet.
we didn't have a lot of money; and honestly i don't know how we afforded what we did have. there were not going to be pneumatics or projectors or any supply over 20 dollars - and even 20 was a stretch. we were lucky, and we lived in a town that had a "swap shed", where people would drop off any banged-up-but-usable items that they wanted to get rid of. the whole year, my family would pick over someone else's discarded fans and lights and weird decorations, asking each other - what do you think? for halloween?
we would strip the motors out of rusted fans and spraypaint vases and saw broom handles in half and apply a very thick coat of cardboard and duct tape to everything. for our pirate year, i made the mistake of individually drawing woodgrain onto each strip of cardboard that made up the ship. i then gently painted and distressed the "boards" so they'd each have lichen and cracks and unusual patterns. i hid eyes in the knots and shaped skulls. you couldn't see any of it in the dark, even under our "spotlight" (someone's target-branded workshop flashlight).
i have a lot of very strange skills as a result. i know how to make a flying ghost appear both physically and in the mirror. i know how to make a witch's brew that stirs itself. i know how to burn and cut and paint until there is an iron throne you can sit on, or an alien brushing your ankles, or a hearse trundling along. i can't say we ever made it beyond our local newspapers, but we tried so hard that the town would regularly shut down our street.
i can't put any of these skills on a resume, and i haven't been able to put them to use for a while. i live in an apartment, there's no lawn for me to decorate. for years i've wanted to do an alice in wonderland theme, and have been collecting ideas like coins in a fountain. at other houses, i am transfixed by 12 foot skeletons and paper mache spooky lanterns; easily wooed by the knowledge of how much time people put in.
someone asked me once - so what was the point? and why didn't you guys charge anything to show up?
in truth, we probably needed the money. for years there, we were a 1-meal-a-day kind of a family. i was being polite earlier up in this essay: we furnished both our house and our halloweens using things left a recycling center. we live in new england and still didn't turn on the heat until the end of november, no matter how low the temperature.
every year we would collect donations for unicef and other charities. on an average year, we would collect enough to pay for our food for weeks. every year, without fail: we donated every penny.
this endeavor took months to plan and design and execute. we had to organize any volunteers and check safety and hope-for-the-best. it took at least 24 hours to set up, a week to take down. the motors and fans and lights all had to be packed tight. the cardboard would scatter, pangea in the rain and sleet. i remember picking up a plank from that pirate ship, the paint blown clear off, all my hard work completely erased. a new kind of driftwood.
if this was a poem, and not a memory, i could wrap this up prettily. i could say that these skills landed me a cool job in the haunting industry or that it taught me the value of friendship and responsibility. but i actually think it's something better, something very pretty: there wasn't ever a moral to it.
the night was a long one. yes, there were assholes, people who broke stuff. but mostly it was just kids like us in cardboard costumes, dressed as an incredibly niche kind of truck. good parents who were friendly and laughing. teenagers who slunk in at late hours, wide-eyed and secretly delighted; who asked us can i help next year? like, do y'all take volunteers, or whatever? every year more people came, and told their friends, and offered to pay. and every year we said maybe next year and meant absolutely never.
we did it because it was enough to love something, and to make that love visible. we did it because there is very rarely an excuse to have fun. i think maybe especially, for me - we did it because every year, there was one first "customer" somewhere around 3-4PM, while we were still putting on the final touches. the sun would still be up, and we were frazzled and always-running-late, and these kids saw our vision unfinished in the bright light of day.
something about their parents murmuring say thank you and telling my mom this setup is so sweet while this little kid would grin up at us, dazzled by our artistic mediocrity. the fall air and the chill and their coat-over-a-panda-princess-costume. that first phrase of the night awkwardly managed over a pair of overly-large vampire teeth: a beautiful and excited trick or treat!
#wholesome#happy halloween#writeblr#just something to maybe warm ur heart in these times#my parents also usually let me take nov 1st off#this is the first year in like 20 years im not taking it off bc it became like a family holiday#i regret not taking it off but alas. capitalism.
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AI art has no anti-cooption immune system
TONIGHT (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.
One thing Myspace had going for it: it was exuberantly ugly. The decision to let users with no design training loose on a highly customizable user-interface led to a proliferation of Myspace pages that vibrated with personality.
The ugliness of Myspace wasn't just exciting in a kind of outsider/folk-art way (though it was that). Myspace's ugliness was an anti-cooption force-field, because corporate designers and art-directors would, by and large, rather break their fingers and gouge out their eyes than produce pages that looked like that.
In this regard, Myspace was the heir to successive generations of "design democratization" that gave amateur communities, especially countercultural ones, a space to operate in where authentic community members could be easily distinguished between parasitic commercializers.
The immediate predecessors to Myspace's ugliness-as-a-feature were the web, and desktop publishing. Between the img tag, imagemaps, the blink tag, animated GIFs, and the million ways that you could weird a page with tables and padding, the early web was positively bursting with individual personality. The early web balanced in an equilibrium between the plunder-friendliness of "view source" and the topsy-turvy design imperatives of web-based layout, which confounded both print designers (no fixed fonts! RGB colorspaces! dithering!) and even multimedia designers who'd cut their teeth on Hypercard and CD ROMs (no fixed layout!).
Before the web came desktop publishing, the million tractor-feed ransom notes combining Broderbund Print Shop fonts, joystick-edited pixel-art, and a cohort of enthusiasts ranging from punk zinesters to community newsletter publishers. As this work proliferated on coffee-shop counters and telephone poles, it was visibly, obviously distinct from the work produced by "real" designers – that is, designers who'd been a) trained and b) paid by a corporation to employ that training.
All of this matters, and not just for aesthetic reasons. Communities – especially countercultural ones – are where our society's creative ferment starts. Getting your start in the trenches of the counterculture wars is no proof against being co-opted later (indeed, many of the designers who cut their teeth desktop publishing weird zines went on to pull their hair and roll their eyes at the incredible fuggliness of the web). But without that zone of noncommercial, antiestablishment, communitarian low weirdness, design and culture would stagnate.
I started thinking about this 25 years ago, the first time I met William Gibson. I'd been assigned by the Globe and Mail to interview him for the launch of All Tomorrow's Parties:
https://craphound.com/nonfic/transcript.html
One of the questions I asked was about his famous aphorism, "The street finds its own use for things." Given how quickly each post-punk tendency had been absorbed by commercial culture, couldn't we say that "Madison Avenue finds its own use for the street"? His answer started me down a quarter-century of thinking and writing about this subject:
I worry about what we'll do in the future, [about the instantaneous co-opting of pop culture]. Where is our new stuff going to come from? What we're doing pop culturally is like burning the rain forest. The biodiversity of pop culture is really, really in danger. I didn't see it coming until a few years ago, but looking back it's very apparent.
I watch a sort of primitive form of the recommodification machine around my friends and myself in sixties, and it took about two years for this clumsy mechanism to get and try to sell us The Monkees.
In 1977, it took about eight months for a slightly faster more refined mechanism to put punk in the window of Holt Renfrew. It's gotten faster ever since. The scene in Seattle that Nirvana came from: as soon as it had a label, it was on the runways of Paris.
Ugliness, transgressiveness and shock all represent an incoherent, grasping attempt to keep the world out of your demimonde – not just normies and squares, but also and especially enthusiastic marketers who want to figure out how to sell stuff to you, and use you to sell stuff to normies and squares.
I think this is what drove a lot of people to 4chan (remember, before 4chan was famous for incubating neofascism, it was the birthplace of Anonymous): its shock culture, combined with a strong cultural norm of anonymity, made for a difficult-to-digest, thoroughly spiky morsel that resisted recommodification (for a while).
All of this brings me to AI art (or AI "art"). In his essay on the "eerieness" of AI art, Henry Farrell quotes Mark Fisher's "The Weird and the Eerie":
https://www.programmablemutter.com/p/large-language-models-are-uncanny
"Eeriness" here is defined as "when there is something present where there should be nothing, or is there is nothing present when there should be something." AI is eerie because it produces the seeming of intent, without any intender:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand
When we contemplate "authentic" countercultural work – ransom-note DTP, the weird old web, seizure-inducing Myspace GIFs – it is arresting because the personality of the human entity responsible for it shines through. We might be able to recognize where that person ganked their source-viewed HTML or pixel-optimized GIF, but we can also make inferences about the emotional meaning of those choices. To see that work is to connect to a mind. That mind might not necessarily belong to someone you want to be friends with or ever meet in person, but it is unmistakably another person, and you can't help but learn something about yourself from the way that their work makes you feel.
This is why corporate work is so often called "soulless." The point of corporate art is to dress the artificial person of the corporation in the stolen skins of the humans it uses as its substrate. Corporations are potentially immortal, artificial colony organisms. They maintain the pretense of personality, but they have no mind, only action that is the crescendo of an orchestra of improvised instruments played by hundreds or thousands of employees and a handful of executives who are often working directly against one another:
https://locusmag.com/2022/03/cory-doctorow-vertically-challenged/
The corporation is – as Charlie Stross has it – the "slow AI" that is slowly converting our planet to the long-prophesied grey goo (or, more prosaically, wildfire ashes and boiled oceans). The real thing that is signified by CEOs' professed fears of runaway AI is runaway corporations. As Ted Chiang says, the experience of being nominally in charge of a corporation that refuses to do what you tell it to is the kind of thing that will give you nightmares about autonomous AI turning on its masters:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way
The job of corporate designers is to find the signifiers of authenticity and dress up the corporate entity's robotic imperatives in this stolen flesh. Everything about AI is done in service to this goal: the chatbots that replace customer service reps are meant to both perfectly mimic a real, competent corporate representative while also hewing perfectly to corporate policy, without ever betraying the real human frailties that none of us can escape.
In the same way, the shillbots that pretend to be corporate superfans online are supposed to perfectly amplify the corporate message, the slow AI's conception of its own virtues, without injecting their own off-script, potentially cringey enthusiasms.
The Hollywood writers' strike was, at root, about the studio execs' dream that they could convert the "insights" of focus groups and audience research into a perfect script, without having to go through a phalanx of lippy screenwriters who insisted on explaining why they think your idea is stupid. "Hey, nerd, make me another ET, except make the hero a dog, and set it on Mars" is exactly how you prompt an AI:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/20/everything-made-by-an-ai-is-in-the-public-domain/
Corporate design's job is to produce the seeming of intention without any intender. The "personality" we're meant to sense when we encounter corporate design isn't the designer's, nor the art director's, nor even the CEO's. The "personality" is meant to be the slow AI's, but a corporation doesn't have a personality.
In his 2018 short story "Noon in the antilibrary," Karl Schroeder describes an "antilibrary" as an endlessly deep anaerobic lagoon of generative botshit:
https://www.technologyreview.com/2018/08/18/104097/noon-in-the-antilibrary/
The antilibrary is a generative AI system that can produce entire librarys’-worth of fake books with fake authors, fake citations by other fake experts with their own fake books and biographies and fake social media accounts, on-demand and instantly. It was speculation in 2018; it’s possible now. Creating an antilibrary is just a matter of investing in a sufficient number of graphics cards and electricity.
https://kschroeder.substack.com/p/after-the-internet
Reading Karl's reflections on the antilibrary crystallized something for me that I've been thinking about for a quarter-century, since I interviewed Gibson at the Penguin offices in north Toronto. It snapped something into place that I've trying to fit since encountering Henry's thoughts on the "eeriness" of AI work and the intent without an intender.
It made me realize why I dislike AI art so much, on a deep, aesthetic level. The point of an image generator is to buffer the intention of the prompter (which might be genuinely creative and bursting with personality) in layers of automated decision-making that flense the final product of any hint of the mind that caused its creation.
The most febrile, deeply weird and authentic prompts of the most excluded outsiders produce images that feel the same as the corporate AI illustrations that project the illusion of personality from the immortal, transhuman colony organism that is the limited liability corporation.
AI art is born coopted. Even the 4chan equivalent of AI – the deeply transgressive and immoral nonconsensual pornography – feels no different from the "official" AI porn churned out by "real" pornographers. "Shrimp Jesus" and other SEO-optimized Facebook slop is so uncanny because it is simultaneously "weird" ("that which does not belong") and yet it belongs in the same aesthetic bucket of the most anodyne Corporate Memphis ephemera:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corporate_Memphis
We call it "generative" but AI art can't generate the kind of turnover that aerates the aesthetic soil. An artform that can't be transgressive is sterile, stillborn, a dead end.
Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/20/ransom-note-force-field/#antilibraries
Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
--
Jake (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1970s_fanzines_(21224199545).jpg
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en
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I don't use Tiktok, never will, In my opinion I think the app should shut down. [ But that will never happen... So I will cope.] But god are ya'll are insufferable on there. The fact you have this strong par asocial attachment to Sebastian and claim that Zerum is ""ruining the character"" is just blasphemy and shows you guys know nothing to zero about writing and do not play the game whats so ever. I've talked to Zerum; Ive talked to the devs and mods ; and all the false claims and misinformation that's being spread like a wildfire IS CRAZY. Everyone's so exhausted. It takes just a couple of minutes to prove it's false but that would actually require these people to literally sit down and fucking read. Zerum never banned anybody. Zerum doesn't handle the bans in the server. If you got banned or muted, it was most likely the automod in the server that they have implemented to avoid people saying anything weird or sexual... [ A friend of mine got muted because they sent a gif that had a weird name to it; nothing related to the gif, the gif was fine and they filed a ticket and got unmuted. Its just the bot doing its job.] and even then the mods probably banned you for something completely unrelated...
and even then, can we STOP normalizing this??
Like this GRINDS my gears, it fucking rusts, it makes me want to break down and combust into flames- Stop. Stop. YOU ARE THE ISSUE. Creators want to create. Either for ourselves or for others, whatever it maybe people enjoy letting their creativity flow because ITS FUN. IT SHOULD BE--- FUN!!! We are giving you literally something free and something to ENJOY because we enjoy it just as much! This stupid fucking mindset being so normalized makes me SO SICK. " whatever is put on the internet is free reign!" you guys have ZERO respect for any creator; even yourselves and its so BLATANTLY OBVIOUS. You guys preach about "respecting artists/creators" till it doesnt fit with your agenda, because we should just "expect" our works to be disrespected and used. Like our feelings never mattered. Are we going to ignore the discussion of AI art too? Or copyright, or literally anything of that sort here? Yes, its the internet, there WILL be people who are so drastically cruel and do something you will not like. I do agree its best to ignore those kinds of people but that does not mean we should just LET it happen. It does not mean we should suck it up and take the blows. This is how people stop creating, youre killing artists, youre shunning them away because "its the internet, lol, dont get mad if ppl -" Stop it, you're teaching younger generations that it does not matter if you have boundaries or not and that your voice doesnt mean anything. I mean fuck, you put your oc here I can use it however I want then! Because you shouldve expected the moment you click post for other people to use it! Who cares right?! its OUR oc now >:)!!! No matter what the character is from, by a indie game, a comic, a book, yadda yadda. If youre gonna be scum, you are gonna BE scum. Artists should be respected and be listened to. If Zerum ships her oc to her oc, so fucking what? She created him. YES. SHE CREATED HIM. Just because she is a """co-owner" You forget she wrote and designed him. You forget its STILL HER CHARACTER. WHICH BTW, HE WOULDNT EXIST IF IT WASNT FOR ZERUM!! ITS HER CHARACTER- Not yours, and if your first thing that comes to mind " oh but shes ruining her character" then so what, its not MADE for you. Hell, Sebastian is only like 1% of the whole entire game! ENJOY THE GAME, ENJOY THE ACTUAL LORE. MAKE YOUR OWN OCS, GO WACKY WOOHOO AND ENJOY IT WITH OTHERS. If you make headcanons for Sebastian or any other characters! Great! As long as you are respectful who literally cares. HAVE FUN! Stop harassing and bullying and literally spreading misinfo; I am so sick of people with this mindset! This is why the internet is such a shit place to begin with because we just let this stuff happen. Grow up! Like PAInter said.." YOURE NO FUN AT ALL!"
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Hi, here is an idea for a plot : marcus is send to kidnap a women because Greta has heard that she is the most beautiful women on earth. He does it but during the travel back they both fall for esch other. Thank you I love your work
Note: Thank you very much for the request, sweet anon. I don't know if I fulfilled it completely, but I hope that I could give you at least a little pleasure with this scribble. I managed to find a moment of time and I wanted to do it. thank you!
Warnings : some violence but not literally, some weird stuff, some romance, some kissing
your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
General Marcus Acacius [masterlist]
witch. l General Marcus Acacius
"General!" the young man rushed into his tent and quickly bowed his head. "Forgive me, sir, but we have a problem."
"What kind of problem?" he muttered without even looking up from the map he had spread out on the plain table.
Marcus, out of the corner of his eye, noticed that the man shifted restlessly, until words finally flowed from his lips that forced General Acacius to look at him.
"I think we have some kind of witch in the camp."
His head had been hurting unbearably for several hours. This journey had been completely pointless. Emperor Geta had heard rumors, whispered among other men, that somewhere on the territory of his country was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Greed and lust made him want to possess her, enslave her. After all, only the Emperor should be able to possess someone like that. He deserved it. She was his due.
General Acacius, on the other hand, believed that these rumors were nonsense. A well-concocted tale to mock the Emperor and his stupid greed. He also didn't believe that any woman would consciously and willingly want to enter a cage and be locked up with such a man.
But Marcus had no other choice, because when Geta invited him to his chambers and assigned him this mission, his views no longer counted.
Just as he had done during the war, so now, he found the woman, captured her and was on his way to Rome. However, it was a hard road. And you made sure that each of the soldiers who enslaved you would remember you for a long time.
So you were locked in a carriage, part of the walls of which were bars so that you could at least enjoy a little fresh air or sun. You used it as much as you could.
Marcus stopped in front of the carriage and looked sternly at several men, one of whom threw a bucket of icy water straight at the post standing inside.
"By the gods! What's going on here?!" he roared.
"General!" the men bowed quickly. "This... This is a witch! Ever since we stopped, she's been deceiving our heads and senses, telling such things..."
"I'm telling the truth!" the woman's voice was strong and stubborn. It clearly reached Marcus despite the dull pain in her temples. "And the gods will punish you all! You will grovel under their feet like worthless, filthy vermin!"
Someone splashed water again and they heard a distinct snort. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
The soldiers looked at their commander. A mixture of fear and uncertainty was written on their faces, but Marcus knew perfectly well that in such a state, further travel would be an even more difficult task. Finally, he nodded to the man who had brought him here.
"Release her and bring her to my tent." he ordered.
"But, sir!"
"That's an order. She is to appear there as soon as possible." he added and then went back to his place.
You appeared after a few minutes. The clothes you were wearing were completely soaked, and strands of hair stuck to your face. And although you were shaking like leaves in the wind, rebellion and stubbornness did not disappear from your face. You twitched nervously when he tried to put a rough blanket on your shoulders.
"Calm down, I won't do anything to you." he said quietly. "Sit down, have a drink of wine."
Slender fingers tightened on the material, but finally, with quite a confident step, you moved to the place he indicated. Sweet wine and a few bites of bread occupied you enough that Marcus could calmly look at you. He hadn’t had the opportunity to do so before.
When he took you from your home, chaos reigned. The appearance of a detachment of Romans worried the inhabitants of a nearby village, and you...
Acacius couldn't remember if he had ever seen a woman defend herself so well. One of the soldiers lost a tooth when you hit him in the face with a saucepan you had at hand, and more than one of them had marks from your nails on them. It was only when someone dared to put a cloth bag over your head that your curses and swearing stopped.
Only now could Marcus look at you. Indeed, you were beautiful. However, he didn’t think that your beauty was only in your face or body, you had something in you that he hadn’t seen before.
Incredible stubbornness, pride, but also recklessness since you were not afraid to challenge a group of men on whom your life depended.
"You're staring, soldier." You mumbled, washing down a bite of bread with wine.
Marcus came closer and sat down on a chair close to you. "I'm a general." He said.
You shrugged, though. "You're a soldier. A puppet in the hands of a man who thinks he's a god."
"That man sent me for you." He noticed that you looked at him nervously, like a scared animal. "He's heard rumors about you."
"Rumors." You repeated, dusting off your hands and wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter, because the wet clothes were sticking to your body. "I've seen many more beautiful ones."
"I don't..."
You shook your head, biting your lip. "Don't say that."
You noticed how the general tilted his head, looking at you closely. His dark eyes didn't tear themselves away from you and you didn't like what you were feeling. From the beginning, you felt that something was wrong with this man. He was different. Different from those you knew.
"You expected us to come." The general's voice was low and melodic, a warm shiver ran through your body. "How is that possible? Who warned you?"
"Nobody. Soldier."
You wanted to insult him. You wanted to draw a line and show that you weren't afraid of him, that you despised him. But he just smiled. He stretched his long legs in front of him and folded his arms across his chest.
"My name is Marcus." he said and ignored your snort. "And yours? Or should I call you a witch?"
He noticed how your eyebrows drew together. "I have a name." you replied and gave it to him.
The general played with it for a few moments, rolling it on his tongue, and you hated how good it sounded in his mouth. Finally, he sat up and held out his hand to you. You flinched.
"I won't do anything to you." Marcus smiled gently.
"I'm not afraid of you." you replied. "Neither of you nor any of your soldiers."
When your hand clenched in his, he felt something strange in an instant. A strange warmth flowed through his skin and veins, it hit him straight to his heart. He wanted to relax his fingers and withdraw his hand, but he couldn't. A hot feeling filled him, clearing his mind and thoughts, and the headache... He realized then that he hadn't felt it for a few moments.
You must have felt the same, because your lips parted and your face brightened as if you had suddenly understood a huge secret.
"It’s you..."
"Me?"
You slid off the chair and knelt down in front of him, your eyes fixed on him as if he were the greatest treasure. "I've seen you before. In my dreams. I didn't understand it until the seeress in the temple told me..."
Marcus wanted to touch your face. Colossal fingers clumsily brushed the skin of your cheek, but you didn't seem to feel it, because you were so focused on him.
"She said a man would come and take me away by force. I thought it was a curse..."
"And it isn't? I took you by force, you fought like a lioness."
"But I didn't fight you, I fought your men. And every other man who tried to. That's where the rumors started, which were just nonsense. The gods made fun of us..."
The tip of his finger moved across your lips. They were soft and warm. The thought of tasting them was born in Marcus' head, but he fought it.
"Emperor Geta... That's where I'm taking you."
"Are you sure?"
He wasn't. Geta wouldn't be happy if he met your resistance and Marcus knew that this would quickly turn into a terrible tragedy. He just didn't know who would lose their life first because of this. Marcus closed his eyes for a moment, but behind his eyelids he could still see your face and your eyes fixed on him.
"You know perfectly well that I'm not for him... The gods didn't destined me for him. However, they used him to make our paths cross."
You let go of his hand and stood up. A gentle touch on his cheek, your breath on his lips. You were so close that the air around him burned.
"I had a dream." he whispered quietly. "I felt you in it, but I didn't see you. You were like a wild animal, but when you looked at me we both knew that we were no threat to each other. That we were looking for each other."
"That's how it was..."
He felt your lips on his. The gentle and tender touch of lips that tasted of sweet wine. Each kiss was a promise of eternity, endless love and sensations that only souls truly dedicated to each other could experience.
Strong arms pulled you to his broad chest, and his lips became more violent, more greedy. But you weren't afraid, not of him. You already knew that Marcus would do everything so that you wouldn't appear before the Emperor.
You were his, by the will of the gods.
☆☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
#pedro pascal#general marcus acacius x fem!reader#general marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius#marcus acacius x reader#gladiator 2#gladiator II#general marcus acacius
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I had a very long Star Wars dream last night. Baffling level of narrative coherency for a dream.
Started out with Obi-Wan Kenobi, our bespectacled thirty-something, going to a university for a Grad Student thing. He's been working for nonprofits for some time, and wants to get a degree to further his work.
He gets to an advisor's office, (which is a Generic Salt-And-Pepper White Man buuuuuut we could probably swap out for an actual AU, maybe make it Mace?) who walks him through the courses and prereqs and so on. Great. All going good. He goes out to some kind of program meeting with his fellow grad students (some straight out of undergrad, some his age) and a sort of team lead person who is… Anakin Skywalker.
And it is. Tense. Like 'everyone can feel it' tense. Anakin's doing something Doctoral, whatever, and his purpose right now is to Program Manage these grad students in another department (Anakin does some analytics and database stuff for the department), and one of those students is Obi-Wan Kenobi and nobody can figure out what the damage is.
They attempt professionalism. They are… cordial. They avoid each other otherwise.
Several weeks in, there's a "we should talk confrontation" and Anakin blows up because the time to talk was years ago, Obi-Wan! Like five to ten years ago! When shit went down!
FLASHBACK TIME: These two were doing crime. It was a team of seven. I don't remember all of whom were involved but it was definitely them two, Rex and Cody, maybe Quinlan? and a few other people. (Not Ahsoka, she was excluded for safety because teenager).
They were probably doing some kind of Leverage stuff but also possibly some domestic terrorism. A job went bad, Cody died, and they all kinda split to do their own things. Partly this was to dodge law enforcement, but partly it was because they were all fucked up and grieving.
Obi-Wan wanted to take some time to himself to grieve, which Anakin was upset about because they're not just brothers in arms, they're basically brothers, at least in Anakin's eyes, and they had a huge blow-up fight about it. They haven't spoken since.
(Rex is in Anakin's life again. He acts as an Uncle figure to the twins. He is also… not in the best mental space, considering his own dead brother.)
Obi-Wan ends up getting pulled aside to talk to someone, probably Mace or Yoda, and a no-criminal-activity version of the story spills out. And it's very 'well what the fuck am I supposed to do with that' because the person pulling him aside was thinking it was like… they had a one-night stand before the program started and now they don't know how to navigate the power dynamic, not grief and distance and family bullshit.
IDK where it was gonna go from there, I think they were still circling each other like feral cats trying to decide what to do when I woke up.
(There was a sideplot about Padme and the twins doing fun things in the basement, but the fun things included a well that they'd use to act out Alice in Wonderland and other insane stuff. Which they loved but was weird. Why do you have a well that's at least ten feet deep in your basement, Padme. Why are you putting your kids in there. Also I had to run away from a bunch of wasps into a pool.)
Rex and Cody! Are just! Background Grief Bullshit! But it hovers over the entire fic.
I think Quinlan should bully his way back into Obi-Wan's life before the plot starts.
And he's the one that angles Obi-Wan into going to This Specific University. That Anakin's at.
He didn't expect them to be that close contact, just wanted them to run into each other in the hall and make amends. In my mind, the timeline is that the crime group broke up for opsec, then a year or two later Quinlan shows up on Obi-Wan's doorstep with intent to Friendship.
Obi-Wan would have done the same with Anakin but their fight was so big and horrible that he doesn't think he'd be welcome.
NGL even in the dream I was like "wow this seems like a really intense Obikin fic concept," but every time I thought about it, the dream would hammer in on the BROTHERS thing again.
#star wars#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#the clone wars#captain rex#commander cody#padme amidala#mace windu#modern au#college au#phoenix posts#dreams#do not tag as cod*wan
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Lessons (Carl Grimes x Reader - Smut)
WARNINGS: Carl cheating on Enid, Fingering, Oral on both sides, Penetration, Head-pushing, Spelling and Grammar mistakes, Not proof-read
Small Summary: Carl asking reader for advice on how to have sex for the first time for Enid. She does more than give him advice, she shows him.
3,791 WORDS
You rested your back against the soft fabric couch as you flipped your fingers through a book, your only source of entertainment. Everyone else was asleep but you.
You closed your book when you heard a knock on the door. The house you lived in was one in Alexandria. Carol lived there with you too but tonight she was on watch duty. Opening the door, you saw Carl. His eyes looking down and twiddling with his thumbs.
“Hey Carl, what are you doing up so late?” you wondered as he came in, closing the door behind him. He sat down on the couch with you.
“I just wanted to talk to you about something…” he rested his hands down on his lap, not knowing what to do with them due to his nervousness.
“Alright… go ahead, kid,” you were interested. What could he want this late? And why is he so nervous? It caught your attention.
“This might be weird but um… Enid wants to take our relationship to the next level,” he hid his face by looking down at his busted shoes.
“Next level? Like what? You guys gonna get married like Glenn and Maggie,” you got slightly excited to the idea of a new marriage.
“No, well I don’t know… not yet.”
“Ooohh so it’s gonna happen, huh? You sly dog,” you teased him while elbowing his arm.
“No! I mean… we haven’t known each other for long…”
“Neither did Glenn and Maggie but they’re made for each other,” you loved their relationship. You thought it was cute. Calling each other “wife” and “husband” although they weren’t officially married.
“Anyway… she wants to h-have ermm…” he paused, looking at you to try and read your expression. “s-sex,” he whispered.
“Oh. Wow. So what are you doing here for? Go have fun with your lil’ girlfriend,” you pointed out the door.
“About that, I don’t really know… anything about doing uh sex,” he flicked his hat. “I know the basics, like how people like getting umm licked down there and inserting stuff into um places but I want to make sure she has a good time…”
“So you want me to give you advice?”
“Yeah…” You sinked back down into the couch, thinking about it.
“Why’d you come to me to ask about that?” you turned your head to face the blushing boy.
“Well, I know you won’t judge me… and you give good advice.” he started to gain more confidence, knowing that your chill with the idea.
“I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to explain.” You were only a couple years older than Carl. But you had experience. You had multiple boyfriends during the apocalypse. And of course you did it with them. Who doesn’t need a little relief during such a horrible time?
“Please try,” he put a hand on your knee. His eyes full of desperation. You looked at the hand on your knee then back at Carl, realizing his beauty.
“Why don’t me and you… do it then,” the moment you realized the surprise of his expression, you started babbling. “J-Just to teach you! And It’ll be a one time thing! We won’t tell ANYONE,” you flung your hands around.
Carl sat quiet. Looking down at his boots again, thinking about it. He turned his head, looking at you. You stood up straight, nervous for the first time around Carl. “Just… one time,” he folded his fingers to form a one. “ To teach me.”
“Yes! Yes, of course.”
“Okay… yeah. So, what do I do first?” he sat criss-cross on the couch, facing you entirely.
“Well, you kiss her first,” you then took Carl’s hand and put it against your cheek. “You hold her face gently,” you pressed and gently rubbed your cheek against his hand. Carl started to turn red. “Then both of you lean in.”
You and Carl inched closer. Your lips brushing against each other. “Then you press your lips against hers, slowly. Then build up into a deep kiss. Using your tongue gently.” Carl hesitated but you kissed him first. He kissed you back, slowly starting to get into it. You then opened your mouth, sliding your tongue slowly into Carl’s mouth. Your jaw moving in sync with your deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing him deeper into your mouth. Carl slowly slid his tongue into your mouth this time.
You moaned into the kiss, pressing your body against his. You took his hands and moved them to your waist.
“Don’t be afraid to touch her… or me,” you separated your lips. Creating distance between the two of you, you moved back and rested your back against the armrest of the couch.
“W-What what are we doing now?” he sat with his hands between his legs like a puppy.
“I’m going to teach you how to undress a woman,” you said before pulling him by his collar so he was between your legs as you sat.
“U-Undress you? I t-think I already know how to undress…”
“Yes, you can undress yourself but what about another person. You know how to undo a bra?” You asked. He shook his head. Carl scooched closer to you with his back straight. “C’mon, undress me.”
“Are you sure… you’re okay with me seeing you with umm no clothes on?” You nodded. “Okay…” he pulled the ends of your shirt. You lifted your arms so it was easier for him to take it off. Lifting the shirt up slowly, he put it gently against the table.
“Now… unclip my bra,” you said as you leaned your torso forward so his head was on your shoulder, looking at your back. “So, you see the clasps? You have to push them together, then push the right strap over the other one.”
Carl stuck his tongue slightly out his lips, trying to get it. “It’s okay if you don’t get it the first time. It was hard for me to do when I got my first bra,” you reassured him.
After a few tries and a little help, he got it unclasped. You held the bra in place, waiting for him to look at you. When he went back to his previous position, you let the bra fall from your shoulders. Carl immediately looked away, nervous. “Hey… Hey. Don’t be nervous. Give me your hand,” he did as you said and put his hand on yours. “Now, it’s okay to look. Just don’t compare mine to Enids. It’s disrespectful.” He nodded as he turned his head to look at your breasts. The red on his face returning. “Make sure you compliment her but you HAVE to mean it.”
“Like… ‘you have nice boobs’?” you chuckled at his response.
“You could say that. But something less… vulgar is better. Like ‘your body is beautiful’” his hand twitched against your grasp. “Are you ready to touch them?” you held his hands, inches away from your chest. “I’ll show you how to massage and treat them,” he nodded. You placed his hand on your breast. “You can squeeze but never to hard,” you took a peak to his groin and noticed his growing bulge. He sinked his fingers into your boob, squeezing them gently. The touch making you squirm. “You can massage them and squeeze their nipples but never too hard,” he gulped before gently kneading your breasts while squeezing your nipple with his other hand.
“Use your mouth.”
“My mouth?!”
“Mhm, you can lick, suck, and bite my nipples. BUT if you’re gonna bite be gentle. VERY gentle. Like a lil’ nibble,” you chuckled. He leaned it slowly as you took his hat and put it aside. He opened his mouth and surrounded your nipple with his lips. He gently nibbled on it, like you said. It sent a jolt down to your pussy.
“Just like that, Carl. You’re doing so good,” you run fingers through his long hair. His cock twitched to your praise. You felt his soft tongue against your nipple as he left kitten licks. As he sucked on your nipple, you were reminded of something.
“Carl,” he looked up at you through his lashes as he continued. “Do you know how to leave a hickey?” He removed his mouth from your chest, the cold breeze making them harder. He shook his head. You pointed to spot, just above your nipple. “Put your mouth here and suck. It’ll leave a bruise but it won’t hurt me. Unless you suck really hard.”
“Why would I leave a bruise on you?” he asked, confused.
“It’s sort of like… marking whats yours. But for now, it’s just for teaching,” he put his lips on the spot you pointed at and sucked. “Not for too long now,” as he finished bruising your skin, he gave it a kiss before stepping back to look at his accomplishment.
“Did… that hurt?” you looked down at your chest and caressed the bruise.
“No, you’re being so gentle with me, Carl,” you brought him closer and kissed him on his cheek. He chuckled quietly.
“One more thing before we get to the actual umm penetration,” Carl was still nervous. He knew what was coming next. “Take of my pants…” Carl blushed extremely but he did as told. He sat back and grabbed the top of your sweats. You lifted your legs up on his shoulders as he took them off. He stared at your panties. At their black lacey trim.
“Do you… always wear underwear like these?” he pulled at his collar.
“They’re cute, right? I’m happy to finally show them to someone,” you giggled. “But you can look at them more when they’re off my body,” you teased. His expression amusing. He put his fingers through the top of your panties this time, seeing his fingers through the lace. He slowly pulled them down.
“Not every vagina looks the same, so don’t be surprised if hers looks different than mine. And again don’t compare,” you reminded. He stared at your pussy, his hands rested on your thighs. You spread your legs, giving him a better view. You spread your lips, putting your finger to your clit.
“This… This is my clit. Some guys aren’t able to find it. But it’s here,” his eye darting to it. You took his hand and looked at his eye. You caressed his fingers before inserting them inside your mouth, his face in shock. His fingers became slick with your saliva as you wrapped your tongue around his fingers, separating them with your tongue. You gave them a kiss before leaving the grasp. “Use these to rub my clit,” you whispered, referring to his fingers. His breath was shaky.
He snaked his hand down to your clit, eyeing it to make sure he was doing it.
“How do I um… rub it?” he asked, his fingers grazing over your sweet spot.
“Okay, so the clit is the sweet spot. It has a lot of nerves. You can rub it a lot of ways. But the common way is in a circular motion,” you sounded like a sex-ed teacher. Carl looked at you then back at your pussy. He leaned in close, so his face was inches from yours but he still had a good view of what he was doing.
He pushed down on your clit, gently. Rubbing it in the motion you described. You sat up straight, the pleasure causing random squirms through out your body. Carl focused his eyes on your face. The redness of your cheek and the pleasure in your eyes. He liked it. He liked making you feel good. Makes him feel accomplished. He slammed his lips against yours. Kissing you on his own. His deep kissing that he learned from you. You whimpered against his lips, his tongue roaming your mouth as he rubbed you in circles faster. He let go, giving you a moment to breathe.
“F-Finger me,” you panted. Carl was excited. He ran fingers through your pussy, finding your hole. He paused for a moment, waiting for your instructions. “Go on, put it in,” he followed. You breathed as his finger hits your depths. “Y-You feel that soft part of flesh towards my pussy?” Carl nudged his finger against it, making you to let out a small moan. “That’s the g-spot. It’s also a sweet spot. Keep pushing your finger against it.”
He repeatedly kept hitting your g-spot. You moaned harder than before. Your breath repeatedly going in and out with whimpers. “Fuck… Carl,” you rubbed his cheek. He kissed your palm as you slowly pushed your head back. He pushed his palm against your clit, the rhythm of his fingers moving with his palm. You flung your head back to place. “W-What are you doing?” you breathed between words.
“It doesn’t feel good?” he paused for a moment. You put your hand on his wrist.
“No, keep going… I just didn’t expect that,” you bit your lip, desperate for his touch. “But I still have another thing to show you,” you grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down so he was laying face to face with your vagina.
You spread your lips again. “I want you to suck it… like you did with my tits,” you demanded as you squeezed one of your breasts.
“H-How?” he took in the sight of how wet you were, seeping down your thighs.
“Lick and suck my clit.”
He breathed against your clit before making contact with his mouth. When you felt his slimy hot tongue rub against your clit as he sucked, you held on to the headrest of the couch. He flicks his tongue up and down while gripping your thighs.
“God, Carl. Enid’s one lucky girl,” you put your hand to the back of his head. He wasn’t thinking of Enid until you reminded him. He was just thinking of you. Making you feel good. He wondered why he didn’t come to you sooner.
He continued to fuck you with his tongue, his eye focused on yours. You thrust your hips against his mouth. He put his mouth, focused on your clit. Sucking and licking over your folds. Your moans were getting louder. You squeezed his head with your thighs as you gripped his hair, making it messy. Carl brought both of his hands under your thighs so he could lick you deeply, pushing your pussy against his mouth. Your face was red and sweaty with your mouth gaping open, letting out every huff. Carl closed his eyes, passionately making out with your pussy as he slowly grinded his hips against the cushion below him, trying to get his hard-on to calm down.
You whimpered in confused when he stopped. “What… what’s wrong?” Carl got up and kissed you. You could taste yourself through his lips.
“Please help me with this,” he pleaded as he gripped his bulge. You blushed profusely. You pushed a flat palm on his chest causing him to fall back on the couch.
“Alright, let’s focus on you,” you smirked as you sat him up to remove his plaid jacket. His body was warm. You pulled off his white shirt after. He shivered under the sudden coldness but as you pressed your naked body against his, kissing him, he managed to get warmer. You placed your hand on his chest. You finished the kiss, trailing your kisses from his neck, torso, and now v-line.
You gripped the sides of his torso as you rubbed your face against his bulge. You took off his pants, gripping his boxers at the same time so they came off together.
When you saw his cock, you were a bit in shock. You haven’t seen a dick in a while and seeing Carls sent electricity through you. You pressed your lips against it as it rested towards your face. Carl let out a shaky breath. You stuck out your tongue, leaving kitten licks on his shaft.
Kissing the tip of his cock, you licked away his precum before putting your whole mouth on his dick. Your tongue licking his tip while you sucked. His cock was swollen against your mouth. Carl moaned, his hand moving to grip your hair gently. You sucked his cock deeper, nearly feeling his balls against your chin. You bobbed your head up and down when suddenly his grip tightened and he took control of your pace. He pushed your head all the way deep, hitting the back of your throat. You flung back, coughing slightly.
“Listen, be careful with your headpushes. Some girls don’t fuck with it,” you warned before going down on him again.
“Do you?” he asked, his breath hitching. You giggled while his cock was in your mouth.
“Mhmm,” you cooed. Carl sat up and started gently rubbing your head. As you bobbed your head up and down, Carl shoved your head deeper into his dick. He caught you by surprise and that made you gag and cough even more than expected. He head-pushed you as a furious pace, your throat being abused. Tears streamed down your cheeks. You closed an eye to fixate on Carl. His head back and his growls loud. He looked at your face as he put his head back in place. He fastened his pace. You felt his dick squirm under your mouth. So you used your strength to push down on his thighs and release your mouth from him.
You sat up, coughing and gagging. “Jesus Carl,” you wiped your mouth with your arm.
“Huh… what?” He was confused that he didn’t reach his high. “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry,” he was concerned.
“No, you did nothing wrong,” you licked your lips, savoring his taste. “I don’t want you to cum yet,” you got him laying back down on the sofa.
You crawled over him and laid down on his chest. “This is the best part,” you whispered into his ear. You kissed him, “For you and me.” You got up and hovered over his cock. Carl used his hands to carefully align his dick to your entrance. “Are you ready?” Carl nodded. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. You slowly fell down on his cock. Moans and long shivering breathes escaping. Once you got all the way down to his balls, you felt his tip kissing your cervix.
“Mm~ Carl… how do you feel?” you laid your torso down on his chest, your faces inches closer.
“Ah~ You feel so good. Your pussy is so soft and warm,” he groaned as you lifted your hips up and down on him. You kissed him intensely as your moans vibrated through him. Carl used his hands to guide your hips as you rode him. You let go of his lips, moving them to his neck. Kissing and licking it as his head rested against yours. You moved your hips faster, his moans uncontrollable.
“Oh, Carl. Thank you for letting me be your teacher,” you put your torso up, his eyes scanning every part of your body. You pressed your hand on his chest for better balance. You slanted your inner eyebrows, going faster as the room was full of the sound of skin slapping.
Carl groped your tit as you grinded your hips. You felt the pressure of his dick on your g-spot and cervix. You moaned his name which caused him to push your hips faster and deeper into him. His growls running through your ears.
All the grinding and friction of the back of his head caused his eye bandage to come loose and slip off his face. When you looked at his face and realized what happened, you slowly stopped bouncing.
He felt the breeze coming on his wounded eye socket and covered his eye. “Shit! I-I’m sorry… you’re probably all freaked out now,” he worried insecurely.
You smiled as you leaned down and placed multiple kisses around his wound. He was stunned. “You’re so cute, Carl,” you snickered.
“Y-You’re not… grossed out?”
“This wound is just a part of you. You’re beautiful no matter what, no wound will change that.” You smiled as you continued to bounce your hips at the same fast pace. Carl was bashful towards your words. You made him feel loved and confident. You were back to making out, spit surrounding your mouths. Your faces full of enjoyment. Both of you could feel the breaths of your moans.
You felt the skin above his dick, pressing against your clit.
“I-I’m gonna-“ you put a finger to his lips. You’re face messy in front of him.
“Do it inside me,” you moaned. You wanted to feel the warm slimy fluid in you. You grinded faster, burying your head in his chest. Your drool all over his skin.
Carl wrapped his arms tightly around your back, keeping you in place as he thrusted fast and hard into you. His groans getting wilder.
You both let out a scream as he released in you. His thrusts slowing down then fastening again. Your legs quivered. His cum poured out of you and splattered over his thighs.
You let out one final shaky breath, giving him a peck. Carl raised his back, still huffing. You were on his lap.
“That’s the end of our lesson,” you whispered seductively. You sat up carefully, cum all over the sofa. Carl grabbed his bandage but you grabbed his wrist before he could wrap it around his eye. You placed another small peck under it then one more on his lips.
“Don’t forget what I said about your eye,” you smiled before putting your cute underwear back on along with your shirt followed by your pants. Carl did the same.
“Thank you… for tonight,” Carl blushed. You smiled.
“You’re more than ready to go fuck your girlfriend now,” you giggled. Carl averted his eyes.
“Do you think… maybe we can do this again?” he asked, twiddling with his fingers again. Your eyes widened, surprised that he’d want to go to you again.
“Hmm, what about Enid?” you wondered. “You should go to her. She’ll be wondering where you are,” you avoided the question. Carl frowned. “Just… try it with Enid,” you put a hand on his chest. “And trust me, I had a great time,” you carefully put your hands under his shirt and wrapped them around his body.
“You should go… before Carol comes back,” you advised while the birds started to chirp. Carl agreed and stepped a foot out your door frame. You stood in front of it. Carl looked at you before giving you a goodbye kiss then he started walking. You closed the door and immediately started wiping down the leftover sperm from the couch. You kept reminding yourself to get a morning after pill as fast as you could.
#twd#the walking dead#carl grimes#carol peletier#enid#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x reader smut#carl grimes smut#the walking dead smut#fanfiction#smut#lessons#lessons carl grimes x reader#gh0stw1f3#alexandria#couch sex
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Astrological placements
I’ve noticed in the acting industries there is a lot of Scorpio Sun, and Aries moons.🌓 mainly the porn industry the acting the reality TV or any other kind of industry.If you look it up and you’ll see exactly what I mean the Kardashians 2 of them have Aries placements Kendall is a Aries moon with a Scorpio sun so there you go kris is a Scorpio 🌞
 alt alternative girls either have a lot of air replacements, fireplace Ments and possibly water rising
Can moons the easiest people to vent to because they like to vent themselves, especially me who is a Scorpio 🌒 to the love of my life was a cancer moon and we used to sit in bitch all day, sense of that we just both needed to learn about our emotions a lot
As I’ve said before, Pisces moons of cult, who like to think that they can make women be exactly the way they want them to be and it’s proven to work here were a few examples Kanye West, Hugh Hefner on a larger scale, and Prince on a large scale to
Cancer women as it was some of the most strongest women I’ve ever ever met in my life, they hold extremely well, and not crybabies like everybody calls them  to them in the house and everything they’ve ever owned has been in their house.
Aries or actually very nosy people,. on the down low.
Sagittarius people are actually very passive aggressive, the rising ones and other placements same with Libra moons 🌙 I know two people are close to me who have this placement both placements, don’t know which one is which sometimes.
Capricorn mars  very weird in bed, like a dead stare and if you’re into that and you love them, maybe it’s not so bad but when I was with someone who was supposed to love, it was very creepy
Scorpio Mars, are the best in bed they’re so dirty they will literally let you do anything, golden showers putting stuff up you know where, and letting you Degrate them.
Andrew Tate, is a Pisces Mars, and they’re actually very good at debates and delegating.
And being objective. they are, quite good at playing fake as well, look at Paris Hilton and she did it for years. She did the baby voice the blue contacts.
Cancer rising can come off is quite an abrasive, but I think there’s some of the best parents and some of the best people too .
#fypage#astro observations#astro placements#astro community#astrology#astrology observations#astro notes#astroblr
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AITA for putting a hit out on an ex friend’s dnd character?
A few years ago I [M 18] was the link between two different online friend circles along with my longtime friend A [M 22]. Essentially, both A and I ran two different dnd campaigns that acted as a melting pot between our two friend groups. It was really fun, super casual stuff. Enter C [M 19], who was originally one of my friends and played in both groups. Over time it became clear that C was, to put it lightly, not a great person. At the time, I was a really new DM and struggled a lot with my self confidence. C was a super disruptive player in my group, going off the rails and generally trying to undermine both me and other players. I tried to sort it out between sessions, but it didn’t end up working out. It came to a head where I ended up shutting down my campaign, claiming school got to be too much, but in reality I just couldn’t deal with C’s behaviour. It was a really big blow to my self confidence at the time.
At this point a lot of people had been cutting out C for various other things like this - generally being disrespectful and callous, not taking responsibility for harm he caused, etc. Pretty soon the only times I was interacting with C directly was during A’s campaign.
A, who wasn’t 100% aware of the situation, came and talked to me after a session one day about why I’d shut down my campaign, and I told him everything about how I was feeling. He was really understanding, and said that he got the feeling that I probably didn’t want C around anymore, and neither did he. I agreed, so A offered to ‘sort out some stuff with C’s character’ and shuffle him out of the group. I made a joke about wanting C’s character to die, in a pretty flippant way, and the conversation diverted.
This is where things get kind of weird.
So, at the time, I was expecting A to just talk with C and kick him out of the group in between sessions, but that didn’t end up happening. C was at the next session just as planned, and continued to show up for several weeks. During this time A, and I really don’t know how else to describe this, pulled some Machiavellian scheme on C’s character as the DM to ruin his life. A wove in this story where C’s character got this evil mask shard of a dead god, and played on C’s want to sabotage other players & go his own way in a very ‘lone rogue’ way to isolate him from the group and get him involved in all these evil deeds (killing minor npcs, etc). None of our characters knew about this in character, but A dropped all these hints and the context lined up to make it seem like C’s character was slowly going insane. C, unable to communicate in or out of character, backed up this idea by refusing to talk about the god IC or OOC. Eventually this god fragment lead to the death of C’s character when an overpowered assassin struck him down, in a fight that felt very ‘well this could’ve been a party boss but because you didn’t tell anyone, you died’. Immediately following this the party found out about C’s character’s evil deeds, meaning he wouldn’t be mourned by the party. The whole death felt so… hollow. It really felt like C had ended up in this situation because of their own hubris. But they hadn’t.
A had masterminded the whole thing. He’d given me live updates about his plan to essentially manufacture a situation where C’s character died a miserable death that felt totally deserved in the eyes of the other party members. And then we all just blocked C anyway???
I’ve never seen someone manipulate somebody like that in my life before and I’ve never seen anything like it again. I’ve never told anyone else in the group that the death was masterminded by A because of my petty grudge about my failed campaign. I don’t speak to either A or C now but I still feel bad about not doing something. Should I have just told A to kick C way before this?? I had no clue it would spiral into actual months of chess mastering his demise!!
What are these acronyms?
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A Baby? (Ouch part 2)
a quasi part two to this. just a drabble yall. it has no rhyme or reason.
trigger warnings: use condoms, doctor talks, endometriosis talk, bad writing lol
plot: i suggest female obgyns personally.
You were sitting on top of the examination table. The stirrups had been placed to the side a while ago and now you were just waiting. For the inevitable.
“Well…you know, endometriosis…there no cure for it. So our options are birth control or you get pregnant.”
It was an age old conversation. How do you want to stop your horrible periods every month? Some kind of hormonal patch, shot, weird twig thing or a loving bundle of responsibility.
“I think I will take the IUD.” You said tapping your stomach.
The doctor paused for a moment, only sound in the room was the click clacking of his keyboard.
A breath. “You know, you’re 30.”
“I know.”
“You have one ovary.”
“I know.”
“…Don’t get me wrong. You have plenty of eggs so it functions well…but you’re not getting younger kid.” He turned to you then. He was being sincere; you could tell but… “Doesn’t your mom want grandchildren.”
“She has a grandchild. She’s fine.”
He smiled, “I’m sure she wants your grandchild. …We can do the IUD but you’ll also need to come back for…”
“And then he told me, ‘You should stop being selfish. Think about having that kid.’ Like what the fuck.” You said, your feet kicked up over Terry’s lap container of general chicken in one hand, chop sticks in the other.
“No he didn’t. What did you say?”
“…Give me the IUD.”
“That’s it? You should have cursed his ass out. I told you should have let me come, I would have told his old ass where to go with his old ass doctoring-
“Yeah, and like they say that babies don’t even really help with endo. It’s just like a patch. So now what, I have a fucking baby and debilitating pain during periods. No thank you.”
“Right. How could he suggest this? What kind of doctor is he? What’s his name again? I’m gonna leave a bad review.”
“And I mean.” You sat up tucking your legs up underneath you. “Who am I going to have a baby with anyway?”
Silence.
You looked over at Terry, and he was looking at the TV, but he wasn’t really looking at it. Not really. He just wasn’t looking at you.
“What?”
“What you mean what?”
“What you got to say? Why you so quiet?”
“Nothing.”
“Terry.”
A breath. “…I mean…you could have a baby with me.”
“What?!”
“If you wanted to. If you needed to. You know…for your endometriosis. Or…” Looking at you now. “If you just want to.”
“Terry, what the fuck are you talking about? You want kids?”
“No.” He reached forward, turning the tv off with the remote. “…Shit. I don’t know. Like you said who am I going to have a baby with. Why not me?”
“…Terry, we’re not married.”
“Who said we had to be married?”
He was right. You sat the container down. “Okay, but like we haven’t even put a label on whatever this is.”
Another 5 heads, six nipples stare down. “…Girl.” He chuckled. “I’ve been fucking you into the mattress every night, every other night, for 6 months now. You are sitting on my couch in a night shirt that you got out of a drawer in my bedroom. You know one of the 3 drawers you have in my 6-drawer dresser. You have a toothbrush, hair dryer, flat iron, and a hot comb here and I signed for one of your amazon packages today. What do you think this is?”
You fought back a smirk, “…Okay, but you still haven’t said what it is.”
“Neither have you. But if you need to know, you’re mine and I am damn sure yours. And if you really really need to know, if any other man comes near you…anything is a weapon to me. And I have a valid excuse for going crazy on dude.”
“Again, with the caveman stuff. My god. Did your mom teach you manners?” You giggled as he pulled at your leg. You scooted closer to him.
“I mean, baby.” He lifted your chin up. “I haven’t thought about kids, and yeah we’ve only been together for six months, so maybe it is too early for kids. But if you got pregnant, I wouldn’t be unhappy. And if you needed to be married to make it legitimate to you, I won’t oppose it. Like married, not married, pregnant, not pregnant, I want you. And I want you to be happy, and healthy, and not crampy. So if you needed it or wanted it, or if happened by accident, I’m cool.”
You grinned, the speech warming you to your core, “Cool.” But let’s be realistic. “But I did get the IUD, so we shouldn’t have to worry about that. I mean if you wanted to be extra sure, there’s a pack of condoms in your top drawer.”
“Nah.” --------------------
A/N: Partially Inspired by True events. Like 4 days after my 23rd or 24th birthday (2019), an ovarian cyst I had ruptured and I had to have surgery to get it out. It resulted in me losing my left ovary (or my right…I SERIOUSLY ALWAYS FORGET. I really think COVID killed my brain cells) and when I visited my doctor afterwards, that is the conversation I had.
Except I was in my TWENTIES.
That MAN told me I was not getting any younger in my early twenties and that my mom really wanted my grandchildren specifically. He was a nice guy but I didn’t realize how crazy that conversation was until I retold it to my current OB and she said,
“Well why in the hell would he say that?”
I hope yall enjoyed my thinly veiled piece of self insert fan-fiction lol.
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Billy’s College Adventure Part 2
Samuel:
“Oh fuck!!!”
I scream out as Billy’s body pours out cum all over his slim chest. I stare down at cute dick I know have possession over.
That’s when the doorbell starts ringing. Well he’s quicker than I thought. I better get his body cleaned up. I quickly wipe off Billy’s chest and grab his shirt.
The doorbell rings over and over again.
“I’m coming! Just hold on a sec!”
I look through the peephole and my body waiting outside for me to open the door.
“Who is it?,” I say just to mess with him.
“YOU KNOW WHO IT IS!”
“Hmmm… well I wasn’t expecting company. Not sure who you could be. Have we met before?”
“Dude! I’m in your body, you’re in mine. Can we just cut to the point and you let me in!”
“What’s the secret password?”
“Purple! Now let me in!”
“No… the password isn’t a ‘word.’ It’s a gesture…”
“Hey it’s me! In your body, what’s up? Is this good enough?”
I bust out laughing, I thought he was going to flick me off.
I open up the door and Billy comes storming in.
“You know! It’s one thing for you to highjack my body! But it’s another for you to LITERALLY LOCK ME OUT,” says Billy who’s now in my (our I should say his) face.
“Oof! You got a spicy side! I like it!,” I say back with a big grin.
“Are got to be kidding me! You know what, I’ll fix this.”
I watch as Billy tries his hardest to switch us back. He tries for about a minute before giving up.
“Fuck! Why can’t I switch us back?”
“Oh Billy, you really don’t know the first thing about your powers do you? You’re a swapper. A swapper can’t un-swap somebody who’s also a swapper. Now you can swap others that I’ve swapped but you can’t swap us. Only I can now.”
I watch as Billy paced around the room struggling with the fact that I’m in control here.
“So I have a few questions,” he says to me.
“Sure!”
“First off, who the hell are you?!?”
“Well currently I’m you. But normally I’m Samuel, Sam for short.”
“Great. So you obviously are a—”
“Swapper.”
“Yes, you’re a swapper. Like me which I didn’t even know others existed outside of me.”
“Well other swappers are a little more quiet about their abilities. You just have yourself away earlier today.”
“I know, I figured that out pretty quick. This feels weird, normally it’s me hitting someone with the body swap surprise. Wait a minute, why did you swap that guy and that professor?”
“Great question! That Dufus really pissed me off. And I don’t really care for that professor so freaking him out too was just an added bonus.”
I watch as he tries his hardest to get a good read on me. It’s so refreshing to even talk about this someone who’s not my family. Granted the only other swapper in my family was my great uncle. He was kind enough to leave me a rule book.
“So you just did that to be petty?”
“Well yeah I guess, sounds terrible when you put it that way. But trust me that guy had it coming.”
“That seems pretty immature of you.”
“Oh so you’ve never just swapped with someone for the hell of it?”
“That’s not what I’m saying… I mean of course I have but it’s been years!”
“Geez Billy, didn’t know you set the roles for the swapper community.”
“Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying you really freaked those two out. Maybe like a simple prank could have worked.”
“Billy, I don’t think you understand how different the two of us are from the rest of the world. Most swapper do way worse things— sides I would have eventually swapped them back.”
Billy gets quiet for a second. I watch as he flops down on his couch. 
“So now that you kidnapped my body, what’s your plan here?,” says Billy.
“Finally! That was the question I’ve been waiting on. So I’ll be honest with you. I’ve personally never met another swapper outside of a family member who I really didn’t get to know. But he did leave me with a lot about our powers. And I want to start really using mine. But the kind of stuff I want to do is hard to do alone. So I guess in the nicest way I can say this… I’ll give you your body back as long as you join me in my exploration. Thoughts?”
“Ummm… is this going to be dangerous or potentially hurt someone?”
“Ahhhh no, at least not directly.”
“What do you mean by not directly?”
“Well I guess you can either find out and get your body back or just stay as me until I decide to swap us back. Which could be a very long time… years maybe.”
“Ugh fine! I’ll do whatever.”
“Cool!”
2 Hours Later…
Billy and I crashed out on his couch. It took him a bit to speak to me but once he got going he had so many questions about me. I let him ask me about my life, my family, etc. and he eventually started to open up about himself as well.
“So let me get this straight? You forced your babysitter to swap bodies with you like every time he came over??,” I ask him.
“Oh yeah! Honestly, I feel a little bad about it now because he’s so nice. Literally has no hard feelings. I was just a nightmare growing up. I could never stay in my body when I was young and trust me my dads tried hard! I even ran away a couple of times with his body. They of course found me every time. It sounds terrible but I really enjoyed being him.”
“That’s funny, I used to get really annoyed easy at family functions. I was a very emotional teen and my dad’s brother was a bit of a prick. Always thought he was jealous since he didn’t get the swapper trait and I did. I would literally swap everyone around just to piss all of them off. I’d even make sure everyone swapped with someone who I knew they would hate to be… oh this one time. I swapped my uncle and our dog for like a week. I got into sooo much trouble but it was so worth it.”
“Oh god not the dog!!”
“Yep! Even took my dog to the park. It was hilarious!”
We went back and forth on our swap stories for hours. I door dashed us a bunch of food (on Billy’s card of course, I knew he would be cool with it the second I heard his parents are loaded lol).
“So do you have like any booze here?,” I asked him.
“Oh yeah! Want a glass of wine?”
“Sure!”
“Any preferences?”
“I mean I have your pallet so whatever you like lol.”
“Trueee, I guess I should asked for me haha.”
“Well I prefer red wines.”
“Gross!”
“You’re gonna like it I promise.”
We both crack open two bottles of wine and turn on a movie in the background. After a couple of glasses I started to feel a little frisky and maybe a little too open
“So I have a confession to make,” I say to him.
“Oh god, what is it?”
“It’s nothing bad! Oh god, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”
“Sit it out Sam!”
“Well before you got here, I um… I may have enjoyed your equipment.”
Billy sits up and for a second I thought he was going to be mad at me.
“Sam did you jerk off in my body?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Are you kidding? I haven’t even explored your body, especially since I just rushed over here. And you explore all of mine huh?”
“Yeah I don’t know, it’s been a minute since I’ve swapped with a cute guy. I may have just lost control.”
“Ohhhh so you think I’m cute?” he gives me a cheeky grin.
“Ugh, don’t get too excited.”
“Well, I think it’s only fair for me to have my turn,” he says with a bigger more cynical grin.
“What?!?”
“You heard me! I’m forced to be you so it’s only fair for me to have my fun too!”
“Fine!,” I say back. I feel a rush hit me. I’ve never been around a guy that’s in my body talking about using my body that way. It’s kinda hot.
“So what you’re gonna go to your room or do it right here?,” I say to him sarcastically.
He takes a big swig from the bottle of wine and pulls my shirt off.
“You wanna come watch the show?,” he says winking at me.
Before I can answer Billy grabs my hand and pulls me up. I follow him to his bedroom.
Billy pulls down my sweatpants and hops onto his bed.
“What do you think? Do you look… sexy?”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Okay… here is the big reveal!,” he says to me slowly lowering my underwear.
“1..2..3…”
Billy pulls my underwear down and my dick flies out. It’s completely hard.
“Nice!! 10 out 10 dick right here,” he says holding my dick.
“You gonna…”
“Slow down cowboy! It’s my turn to explore.”
I watch Billy gently fondle my goods. I can feel his dick pulsating— I can barely hide the fact that I’m just as turned on.
“So Sam, now it’s my turn to give you two options. You can hop into bed with me and we can full around or you can stand right in that exact spot with my hard on all night. Which one will it be?”
“Bed.”
“Good, now get over here!”
Billy nearly rips the clothes off of his body.
“Is it weird that I want to kiss you right now,” he says to me.
“Nah, just a little self love,” I say back.
We start making out and he’s such a great kisser. I feel him reach down and he starts fondling his dick.
“You’re so sexy,” I say to him.
He kiss my neck and says, “your body or me?”
“Your presence, your body. But you all around.”
“So are you, even though you’re a bit of a dick.”
“What turns you on the most Billy?,” I ask him.
He lifts up his head, “you really want to know?”
“Yeah I do.”
“Feet.”
Somehow, someway, I got even harder from the words that came out of his mouth.
“Is that weird?”
“Fuck no because that’s what turns me on too.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope! Your feet are so sexy…,” I say to him.
He looks at mine and grins.
“You have cute feet too.”
“Would it be weird if we…,” I say gesturing to his toes.
“Nope!”
I use Billys feet and wrap them around my dick. I start stroking back and forth. He lets out grunts in between.
I maneuver back and forth using his toes to grip.
“Don’t stop Sam! Fuckkkk,” he yells out.
I go faster and faster…
Billy is moaning sooo loud…
And then he screams out, “IM CUMMING!!!”
Cum squirts out on to his feet covering them.
He grabs his foot and does something so hot. I watch as he licks foot clean with my mouth.
“Shit… that was amazing…”
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