#anyway this is uh... period piece in an alternate universe :-)

[aphrodites-law]

ClexaWeek, Day 6.

“She can’t be killed while she’s cursed, but she can be made vulnerable enough to let her guard down.”

Clarke felt uneasy. “How would one do such a thing?”

“Love. The curse has made her heart hard. Embittered. You can make it soft again.”

“So that I may run a knife through it afterward,” Clarke predicted.

Finn’s eyes gleamed at her quick thinking. “The manner in which you kill her is your choice.”

Mr. Collins had never been to a brothel before, that much was obvious to Clarke. He stood by the door of the room holding his hat in front of his groin, as if it would protect him from Clarke’s wickedness. His eyes looked everywhere in the room, from the made bed to the small window. The floorboards creaked in protest beneath his polished shoes and the heavy perfume in the air made his nose twitch. Clarke had guessed this wouldn’t be business as usual. She’d had timid patrons before, but Mr. Collins was a different breed.

She sat on the chair by the open window and observed him, glad they couldn’t hear the ruckus from the tavern downstairs.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Collins?” she asked. He’d introduced himself before asking for privacy, which she had granted after noticing the fine make of his clothes. He had money.

He loosened his tight grip on his satchel and placed it on the bed. “Have you ever traveled by the Forest of Polis?” he asked.

Clarke chuckled dryly. It wasn’t the strangest question she’d been asked, but nonetheless unexpected. The tall, dark forest was their city’s natural border in the north and east, but to most people it was considered a wall. Even foreigners knew to stay on the beaten paths.

“I don’t see much of the world outside of this street. If I did, my destination of choice wouldn’t be a deadly forest.”

“Cursed is the word I would use,” Finn said, then cleared his throat. “Have you heard of the keeper?”

Clarke picked up a hairbrush on the dressing table next to her. If he was going to bore her with stories, she might as well keep her hands busy. “I’ve heard of the tale told to frighten children, yes. The ruthless keeper lives in every tree and can see through the eyes of every animal. Adventuring too deep inside is a sure death sentence at her hand.”

“That isn’t quite the truth. She has great power over the forest, but she isn’t cruel. I could tell.”

Clarke paused her brushing, surprised by the revelation. “You’ve met her?”

Finn nodded. “A year ago. I had pigeons delivering a message at key points in the known parts of the forest. When one of the birds went missing for weeks, I thought it had died. To my astonishment, it came back with a reply and a rendezvous point. We met in a clearing by a river. I… had an enlightening conversation with her.”

“How—” Clarke shook her head, baffled. “So she truly exists? A woman living alone in that forest?”

“She does. And despite her power, she struck me as deeply human. I don’t think I was particularly interesting to her, but she asked many questions about Polis.”

“What was your business with her?”

Finn sat on the bed, leaving his hat on his lap. “You might have heard that the ancient city of Arkadia was built in the forest, with countless riches and fertile soil around it.”

“Another folktale to entertain children with.”

Finn seemed irked by her lack of wonder. “They are stories based in reality. Now imagine what we could do with these resources if we had access to them. How better our lives might be if we had the gold to better our businesses and the crops to feed our children. Our neighbors would finally respect us. Polis could become a great city again, as it was decades ago.”

“And you think a single woman stands in your way?”

“I know it for a fact. Six years ago, my father found the maps that proved Arkadia’s existence. We brought them to the Commander, but none of the soldiers sent to find it survived the forest. Our leaders may have given up on finding Arkadia, but I owe it to my father to realize his dream.”

Clarke sighed. She had heard this kind of talk before. “I don’t have much time for dreams, Mr. Collins.”

“Few people do,” Finn acknowledged, “but I believe in a better future for us all. That is why I sought out a diplomatic resolution with the keeper.”

“I take it she wasn’t interested in diplomacy?”

“She… became enraged. She said that Arkadia deserved its ruin and ordered me to leave. It was the end of our conversation.”

Clarke appreciated his honesty, but it still didn’t explain his presence. “And now you’re here.”

Finn fiddled with his hat, still not sure what to do with his body in tight quarters with another woman. If Clarke had to guess, he’d taken a vow of purity. “Since the keeper cannot be reasoned with, there is no other choice but to stop her.”

Clarke immediately felt that the conversation had shifted into something more sinister.

“It’s simple, really,” Finn said with the ghost of a smile: “She is lonely.”

“Surely she comes to the city once in a while.”

“No, she cannot leave the forest grounds. I believe her isolation has finally worn on her. She wouldn’t have met with me otherwise.”

“And you wish to send someone to her. Someone who would work for you.” Clarke knew she was right before he even nodded. “If what you say is true, the keeper has power and land—reasons enough for many to enjoy her company. But you came to a brothel, which means you’re looking for a woman desperate enough to say yes. Why?”

Finn grimaced. “The truth is, she’s not easy on the eyes. She was cursed with a mask of sorts.”

“A mask?”

“One that cannot be removed, as if melded to the top of her face. It’s white and textured like bone, but unbreakable. I thought to bring something similar.”

Finn opened the satchel and showed Clarke what seemed like the front part of a human skull. He brought it over his face, where it covered his visage from his forehead to his nose. His face suddenly looked beastly, like he might turn feral and rip her throat. Clarke’s blood ran cold the longer she stared. She could understand how no one would be willing to wake up to such a frightening sight every morning.

“I see.”

Finn hid the mask back in the satchel, staring at it for a beat, as if both entranced and disgusted. “She can’t be killed while she’s cursed, but she can be made vulnerable enough to let her guard down.”

Clarke felt uneasy. “How would one do such a thing?”

“Love. The curse has made her heart hard. Embittered. You can make it soft again.”

“So that I may run a knife through it afterward,” Clarke predicted.

Finn’s eyes gleamed at her quick thinking. “The manner in which you kill her is your choice.”

It was not the first time Clarke had been asked to kill. Spurned lovers or hateful spouses sometimes bribed her to get rid of their partners if they came back to her. She had never agreed to it, but she knew others had. Finn’s request was different. Clarke didn’t fully understand it yet, but she needed the full story before she made up her mind.

“Are you sure she would be seduced by a woman?”

“Yes, according to a witch’s knowledge of her curse... ” he revealed, but did not share any more. 

“You said she isn’t cruel, yet people are harmed by the forest she controls.”

"I wouldn’t say she controls it. There’s a reason we call her a keeper rather than a witch. But they are intricately connected, that much is certain. When my father sought to find Arkadia on his own, he recounted that the deeper he went, the more aggressive the plant life became. Even stranger? It was like the roots and thorns came to life, but neither blades nor fire affected them. He was one of the lucky ones to survive.”

There was a sadness to Finn’s tone that suggested his father had since died.

“Magic?” Clarke asked.

“The woman’s curse. My belief is that, should it be broken, we would be able to clear a path just like the Arkadians did. We would finally have access to our rich heritage.”

“You are relying heavily on your beliefs.”

“I have no other choice. Polis can’t go on like this anymore. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Hm.” Clarke had no feelings about it either way. Her own survival mattered much more than that of a crumbling city. “Are you confident love would do the trick?”

“I have researched her curse and others for the past year. I have traveled to witches’ dwellings from south to west and risked my life for these answers. Love is the most human of powers—I’m certain it’s her antidote.”

Clarke considered the task for a moment. “Why kill her?” she asked.

Finn seemed surprised. “Pardon?”

“Why kill her when she becomes powerless? You said her powers are tied to her curse.”

Finn looked away, the telltale signs he hadn’t revealed everything. Clarke knew that expression too well.

“You’re lying to me, Mr. Collins.”

“I’m not!” he panicked.

“I won’t take on a fool’s quest without knowing all the risks. Spit it out or leave.”

Finn hesitated before yielding to her request. “When I say the curse will be broken, I mean that lulled would be a more appropriate word. Love would make her human side come forth again, but if she were to lose this love…”

“She would relinquish her humanity for good,” Clarke guessed.

“I fear then that she would become unstoppable. That we would never find Arkadia.”

“And no sane person would agree to a lifetime in a dark forest, pretending to love a masked woman.”

Clarke was glad she had gotten to the bottom of it. Still, something made her hesitant to throw herself in the fire:  “True love cannot be one sided.”

“I believe that it can. I’ve seen it happen. My father was madly in love with my mother. Devoted to her. She fulfilled her duties, but she had no love for him—at best, tepid affection. Yet it didn’t make his love for her any less true.”

“What makes you believe the keeper could love me?”

“Isn’t love your business?”

“Fucking is my business.”

Finn blushed, unused to such bluntness. “I saw you downstairs, in the tavern. You had patrons eating out of the palm of your hand. You’re a beautiful woman, but you’re also sharp. Witty. And you exude something that…” he struggled to hold her stare, but did his best to appear confident. “The witches I’ve met have all told me the same thing: She will be yearning for someone like her. An outcast. A woman who understands loneliness. At the same time, you would be her opposite. Someone constantly surrounded by people. You could travel the world and blend into the fabric of each city. I think she would like that. I think she might easily love you.”

“You spin quite the tale,” Clarke replied, then shrugged. “I’ve heard your proposal, but what’s in it for me?”

Finn dug into his satchel and took out a velvet pouch. He approached her and opened it, revealing gold and precious stones. Clarke nearly lost her breath. That was more than she’d ever seen and enough to last her years, even a lifetime if she was smart.

“It would also come with the title deed to a house and an orchard.“ Finn closed the pouch. "Land and money… Surely that is enough incentive?”

As he spoke, Clarke stood up to look out the window. She had expected him to come prepared, but the offer still shocked her.

“What do you have to lose?” he asked with thinly-veiled contempt. Clarke could hear that he had shaken off his awkwardness and was now anxious for an answer.

“Would you really miss this life? The filth and the noise? I’m offering you freedom. A home.”

Clarke studied the street, needing to ignore his gaze. It was an appealing proposition, despite the risky nature of it. The keeper was yearning for companionship but saddled with a frightening face—she would likely be receptive to someone’s affection. It was no different than the act she had put on to retain a faithful clientele here. To survive this world. She suspected Finn knew more about her than he let on. He had used the only word that might sway her completely: Home.

A home to call hers. A home where she would eat her own meals and clean her own mess. Walls, doors and windows that would keep her safe, not trapped. An orchard that would sustain her. It was the only dream she ever did allow herself to have, now attainable. 

“Are you interested or not?” Finn asked.

She turned to him and nodded. “I’ll need an advance—two months worth of living expenses. Then you’ll show me the house. Should I find the plot suitable, I’ll sign the title deed before my departure.”

Finn seemed taken aback by her demand. “Before?”

“I’m putting my life in mortal danger. I need a guarantee it won’t be in vain regardless of the plan’s outcome.”

He mulled it over, likely wondering if she would take her deed and close the door in his face. But without money, she would not be able to do much with the house. It needed upkeep, as did the orchard. 

“You think two months will be enough?”

“To have her fall in love? Perhaps not. But I will know whether or not it is a possibility.”

Finn looked elated, his chest puffing up and his boyish grin betraying his youth. His plan was finally being set in motion. “Very well, I’ll come by in the morning! I’ll have everything—anything you want.”

Clarke thought quickly about every step before it was too late. She would not get duped into a trap. “Where will I find a weapon if she has none?”

Finn took out a folded map from his satchel and opened it on the bed. He had truly come prepared. For his sake, Clarke hoped he hadn’t come alone. A naive looking man with such a heavy bag wouldn’t go unnoticed on this street.  

“Here are the known areas of the forest,“ he explained, showing her the shaded points on the map. He pointed to a twisted looking line. “When you feel the moment is right, you’ll find both a knife and poison beneath the thickest root of a weeper tree. I don’t know where the keeper stays, but you’ll only need to follow the river stream toward Polis to find the tree. Its branches are warped into such unique shapes that you’ll immediately recognize it.”

Clarke stared at the map but found herself drifting when he spoke about the rumored location of Arkadia. Could she truly kill a woman, cursed or not? Could she be so callous as to make love a fatal weakness? Clarke had looked for ways out of Polis’ streets for years and this was it. How could she refuse such an offer? Morals had to be flexible when it came to survival.

“How shall I find her without getting myself killed?” she asked.

Finn pointed to another winding line on the map, excited to divulge more of his plan. “There is a bridge…” he started.

[duskholland]

Ritual || Boxer!Tom Smut

boxer!tom x reader — smut.

summary ↠ with the championship fight less than two weeks away, tom adopts a series of frustrating pre-match rituals.... based off the request ↠ ‘boxer!tom refuses to have sex for two weeks before a big match then he wins a belt and becomes the top boxer and his s/o patches him up like she does after every match, but it quickly turns into really intense victory sex with dom!tom’ I changed a couple bits but this is pretty much the same :)) warnings ↠ this gets very, very smutty. for that reason, 18+ pls !! extended nsfw warnings are beneath the cut but this spirals into v intense smut. so just. watch out pls. word count ↠ 8k a/n ↠ I almost died when I wrote this. truly. I felt a piece of my soul leave my body. sheeeesh. anyway uh... this was a lot of fun to write! I found out so many fun facts about sports psychology whilst researching this, so thanks boxer!tom for enlightening me on the fun world of pre-match-rituals. enjoy!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

extended nsfw warnings: fem masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), mentions of vibrating egg, edging and denial, dirty talk, reader definitely has a pain kink (...): biting, spanking + hair pulling, face-fucking, dom!tom, rough sex™️, shower shenanigans, doggy-style, unprotected sex — please wrap before you tap if you do this irl thank you very very much !!

*:·ﾟ✧Ritual ✧·ﾟ:*

Thump. Smack. Thump.

Tom’s fists rain down over the punching bag, and there’s a metallic clicking sound as the object goes spinning in the air. You watch as he pirouettes around the bag, dodging its movements between swings, getting in hit after hit after hit. He slowly works his way around the object, his face screwed into an expression of empowered determination as he alternates which bright red glove he uses to pound against the fabric.

You sigh, loudly, the sound dying in the near-empty gym. There’s just something about Tom in the days preceding a fight that makes you squirm.

He’s different. Still the man you know and love so effortlessly, but heightened in the most attractive ways. His senses pull sharper, his jaw carrying a firm line to it, his eyes like roaring fires. As Tom pounds his fists against the bag, his sweaty brown curls stick to the top of his forehead, contrasting the bright pink tones staining his cheeks. You watch the muscles in his arms tense and flex, pale skin on display due to the tight black vest that clings tightly to his torso. You know if he turned around properly, you’d be able to make out the sunken lines of his abs, packed rigidly with muscle.

You bite your lower lip, stifling a moan. You find Tom attractive enough under normal conditions, let alone when he’s like this: eyes glowing with determination, body burning with passion as he takes swing after swing at the punching bag like he’s got a personal vendetta against it.

“Having fun?”

You startle, clutching at your chest as you turn around to look at Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s sports psychologist. A frown instantly springs out across your mouth, and you reach up to begrudgingly take the bottle of water he offers you.

“I hate you,” you grunt. You sit up a little straighter before leaning back against the wall. You’re waiting for Tom to finish his workout, sitting on one of the benches in the gym. You’d started out the session sparring together, but you’d called quits after twenty minutes against him. Unlike Tom, you don’t have the biggest fight of your career in two weeks—and, honestly, you enjoy watching him like this more than you enjoy trying to keep up with him in the ring.

Harrison frowns as he drops to sit beside you, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m wounded, love,” he says, smirking at you. “What have I done this time?”

You roll your eyes. “You know exactly what you’ve done, Haz.”

Harrison raises an eyebrow, tutting. “You know this is for the best, Y/N.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Fuck the best.”

When Harrison had joined Tom’s team at the start of the season, he’d come boasting all the new sciences of a young university graduate. He’d suggested Tom adopt a series of rituals to help him focus before a big match—small things, initially, like taking cold showers and limiting the time he spends on his phone. Yet, as the competition has progressed and Tom has risen further and further up the ranks, the rituals have grown more intense, more focused. It’s reached the point that now, two weeks before the big match, Tom has reached his final form. As instructed, he visits the sauna every other day, receives daily massages from the most esteemed sports therapists in Europe, drinks multiple cups of pure, fresh herbal tea a day. There are no distractions—his phone is permanently on silent, he’s cut out naps, he’s eliminated music. No distractions, no impurities, no sex.

No sex, because according to Harrison, nothing gets adrenaline rushing and frustration festering like an extended period of denial. No sex, which is a problem, for you, because Tom has never looked as fit as he does now, launching himself at the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead. His biceps flex and bulge and you have to cross your legs as you tighten your grip on the water bottle.

“He’ll win,” Harrison mutters, lowly. You glance towards him, taking in the sight of the older man with his face doused in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “He’s good. Got the best form I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his voice, glancing at you shrewdly. “Don’t distract him, alright? He’s on fire.”

You grumble something incoherent beneath your breath before sighing and sitting up straighter.

“It’s fucked that you get to decide when I get laid, Haz. You know that, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, cheeks blushing a light pink. “Uh, well, I didn’t actually know that he’d go through with that part of it,” Harrison admits. “But if it works, don’t knock it. He wants to win.”

You sit back, resting your shoulders against the wall as you groan. “I want him to win, too,” you say. You look down at your fingers, playing with some of the rings sitting behind your knuckles. “I think it’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

Both of you look back at Tom, who’s ditched the gloves. You watch him talk with his coach, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he nods, looking focused as he listens to the pointers and tips. You release a relieved sigh as Tom’s coach pats him on the back and walks off, leaving Tom to pick up his towel and his bottle before sauntering over to you and Harrison.

“Hi.” Tom tosses his stuff onto the bench before reaching for your hands. He pulls you up easily and quickly, causing you to squeal as you find yourself in his arms. He’s hot, his entire body flushed with the sweaty, adrenaline-filled afterglow of a good, long workout, and you laugh as he dives down to kiss your neck, soft curls tickling you. “Missed you, darling.”

He works his way up your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your chin, and then, finally, your mouth. It’s light, but then you push against him eagerly and wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you moan happily as you enjoy the feeling of Tom, his skin warm and flushed, his pulse vibrating against you, and his mouth, coming over yours again and again.

“I’m right here,” Harrison mutters, speaking up from behind you. You groan, give Tom a final kiss, and then begrudgingly pull back.

“Sorry,” you call out, stepping closer to Tom as you turn your head to look at Harrison. Tom’s arms come around your waist, and he holds you nearer, humming as he presses his face into your shoulder. “You can always leave.”

Harrison rolls his eyes as he flips you off, causing Tom to chuckle.

“Y/N,” Tom mumbles, voice fond. “Harrison can stay if he wants to stay. I was thinking we could all go get dinner or something.”

To your relief, Harrison is quick to shake his head. He pulls on his jacket as he looks between you and Tom, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as they twinkle with amusement.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave you both alone. I think Y/N’s had enough of me, anyway.” He’s teasing, and you all know it, but you still throw out an easing pout as you shrug.

“Night, Haz,” you say, leaning further into Tom, who echoes your sentiments. As soon as Harrison’s gone, Tom spins you in his arms, his brown eyes bright and glowing with adoration. He kisses you again, and you sigh as you melt further into him, the spark in the pit of your stomach roaring back to life as Tom’s tongue teases your lower lip.

“Come shower with me,” Tom murmurs, hands roaming your back. He pecks the side of your mouth a few times as you hum.

“I can’t,” you find yourself saying, though it pains you considerably. Tom abruptly stops his kisses.

“Why not?” He pouts, pulling back to stare at you. He looks a little bit like an injured puppy, eyes wide with hurt. He squeezes your waist for emphasis.

“We’re in the two-week window, Tom,” you remind him. You reach up, lightly cupping his very hot, very sweaty face, in your palm. “You know we can’t.”

He groans, then dramatically lets his forehead fall to rest on your shoulder. You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you let him pout and rub his back.

“I love you,” he says, after a moment. He pulls back, kissing your neck briefly before sighing. “Thanks for putting up with this.”

“It’s okay.” You bite your lip, tilting your head to the side as you examine him carefully. “It’s kind of hot. You get so frustrated.”

Tom just narrows his eyes, staring at you with an expression mixed between amusement and frustration.

“Go on, champ,” you say, pushing his shoulder gently. “Go shower so we can go home, yeah?”

Tom begrudgingly steps back, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he’s going to try and change your mind again, but he doesn’t. As much as you know he wants to drag you into a steamy cubicle, his desire to win his match is stronger.

“Be back soon, darling,” he says. “Don’t miss me too much.”

———

The days burn by slowly.

About a week in, you find yourself snapping. You always try to adopt pseudo-chastity with Tom, feeling a little guilty every time you sneak your hand between your legs and chase the highs he can only dream about finding. Yet, you end up reaching breaking point and giving in to temptation one evening, alone in your flat. Tom’s out late at the gym, at the point in the regime where he’s spending most of his days hauled up in the large building, and you just can’t help yourself: you’re so horny.

If you asked him to get you off, you know he’d agree, never wanting to deny you anything. Tom loves you, loves watching you fall apart for him, loves the power trip that comes with knowing your pleasure is in his hands, but you’d just feel too mean. His refusal to have sex in the lead up is as much psychological as it is anything else—you know he finds energy in the ritual, finds aggressive, fiery hormones in the fourteen days of denial. You’d never want to put him in the position where he got tempted to break, no matter how badly you want to cum.

So, you decide to take care of your ache yourself. Or, at least, you try to.

You start off strong. Teasing yourself over your panties, drawing your fingers over the front of your covered sex. You let your eyes flutter shut as you think about Tom, recounting some of the last few sessions you’ve witnessed at the gym. You think about him, his biceps flexing and curling, the subtle curves of his long, slender fingers, his mouth. His features blur, and you find yourself moaning as you dip your fingers beneath the soft cotton and start to stroke your folds. You circle your clit for a while before dipping down to your entrance, touching the pool of your arousal and groaning as you wet your fingers. As your arousal starts to build, you tease your clit, accompanying the action with your other hand after a while. It feels good—so, so good—as you tease your g-spot with your fingers, keeping your thumb on your clit, edging, and edging, and edging, and—

You can’t cum.

A frown settles on your face as you start to grow frustrated. You try to change things up, slowing your movements, letting the high ebb away before trying again. Instead of reaching climax like you crave, you find yourself resting on the edge instead. You’re aroused, your cunt throbbing, your clit tingling, but you can’t quite get there. It’s frustrating.

You’re so caught up in your irritation that you miss the loud slam of the front door, too absorbed in the sounds of your wetness to hear Tom’s yell of greeting. Your eyes are shut as your boyfriend enters the bedroom. You’re not aware he’s home until you hear him tutting, his voice stacked full of amusement and lust. Your eyelids flutter open, and you find yourself looking at him, wide-eyed like a deer stuck in the headlight.

“T-Tom,” you whimper, your movements stilling. You have your legs spread wide open, two fingers buried in your heat, your other hand draped over your bud. A shy smile finds its way across your lips as you batter your eyelashes at him, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your boyfriend, drowning in a black hoodie and tight blue denim jeans. His hair lies in fresh, air-dried curls, his eyes dark pools of lust. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Tom repeats, imitating your tone. He pushes himself away from the bedroom wall, walking towards you like a lion stalking his prey. You whimper when he reaches down to touch your leg, sliding his hand over your shin teasingly. His eyes glint as he hears you, gaze fixed on the spot between your legs where your hands have stilled. “Oh, please don’t stop on my account, darling,” he teases, smirking. “Keep going. Just because I can’t have fun, doesn’t mean you should have to suffer too.”

You bite your lip, recognising all too well the teasing glint in his eye.

“I can’t,” you admit, shifting around on the mattress as Tom kneels on the end of the bed. Both of his hands are on your legs now, slowly, teasingly, dragging his touch up your shins. Your breath hitches as he slowly works his way up, dipping his head so he’s able to kiss each of your knees, his lips warm and tender.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

He’s lying down, settled between your legs, slowly kissing up the inside of one of your thighs. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close to your centre.

“Can’t get there,” you mutter, slowly pulling both of your hands away from your mound, leaving you exposed. Tom leans up, raising his eyebrows until you offer him the fingers you’d had buried inside your entrance. He hums as he sucks on your fingers, the sight of him making you moan softly. “I get so close, but I can’t get over the edge.”

Tom licks at the tips of your fingers before releasing them, smirking slowly. “What a shame,” he drawls, sounding the opposite. Both of his hands go to the soft sides of your thighs, and you let him pry your legs apart. He’s so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your bud, your folds, your entrance. “Looks like neither of us can cum this week, hmm?”

Before you can reply, Tom drops his head and buries it between your legs. You cry out, sensitive from your edging, your clit throbbing as you feel his tongue, warm and wet, circling the bud. His hands push your hips back down, holding you firmly in place as he moans, drawing his mouth all over your sex.

“Stay still, darling,” he murmurs, voice thick. He glances up at you, a wild look in his eyes. “Be a good girl and let me have a little taste.”  

Your eyes roll back, and you try to lie as still as possible. Tom’s fingers slip into your cunt, exploring your passage, curling up against your g-spot as you whimper.

“So good,” you moan, already feeling your climax twitching in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands goes down to grab at his hair, digging into his curls and keeping his face exactly where you need it, and the other fists the sheets. Your chest rises and falls, your heavy pants mixing with the sounds of Tom’s fingers, fucking your wet heat, and his tongue, teasing the life out of your tender clit. “Please, please.”

“Hmm, you don’t want to cum, do you?” Tom’s words are coupled with a gradual slow in his pace, and you feel your orgasm drifting away as he stills his fingers. He laps over your clit a final time before sitting up a little straighter, looking at you straight on as his chin glistens. “If I don’t get to cum, it doesn't seem fair that you do either, does it?”

His voice is hypnotising, and when his free hand goes to rub warm circles on your inner thigh, you find yourself nodding, transfixed.

“I- I guess.”

Tom smirks, dropping his lips so he can kiss your clit, lightly.

“Are you going to wait for me, sweetheart?” He asks, pink lips puffy and inflamed.

You bite your lip. “Tom,” you whimper, frowning when he lets his fingers pull away from your heat. You watch as he licks his digits clean, still with that wide, confident smirk on his face.

“Hm?” Tom kisses your thigh. “I can make you cum, if you really want to, darling. Just thought it might be nice to do this together.” He rolls both of his hands over your legs, battering his eyelashes at you. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while. Just think about how good it’ll be to wait until next Saturday.” He pushes himself up your body, anchoring himself with a strong arm either side of your head as he suspends himself above you. Tom kisses you, roughly, but only for a moment, letting your lips pull apart when he feels you trying to slip your tongue into his mouth. “Let’s do this together, yeah?”

You hum, thinking on it for a moment, but the scent of his cologne and his fresh shampoo scramble your mind. You find yourself nodding, distracted by the glint in his eyes.

“Okay,” you agree, rolling your eyes when he grins. “We’ll do it together.”

“Good girl.” Tom kisses you, grinning against your lips. “This is going to be fun.”

———

If you’d thought the sex ban was difficult to cope with in the first week, it only gets harder in the second. After giving Tom the green light to have his way with you, he seems to channel all his frustration into you—or, more specifically, into making you as frustrated as possible. He teases you, makes you squirm, beg, cry, letting his mouth wander over your sex or his fingers explore you, any time, any place he feels like it. He never allows you to roll over your edge, just watches, usually smirking, as you try to convince him to let you climax, only to kiss you, softly, and pull away each time.

It happens in the locker room—he pushes you up against the metallic lockers and slips his fingers into you, whispering gentle words with sinful intent.

“Gonna stay quiet for me, darling? Cunt feels so desperate... So tight, so hot. Fucking snug around my fingers, aren’t you? Shh… I know, I know. Feels good for you too, doesn’t it?”

In the showers, when you’re both hot and steamy—Tom drops to his knees and slings one of your thighs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face into your heat.

“Wish I could taste this pussy for the rest of my life, love. Tastes like paradise.”

It even happens in the gym, when he pushes a vibrating egg into you and enjoys teasing you, never warning you before he ups the pace of the bullet, watching with that signature mischievousness on his face.

“Don’t get all shy now, love… I can see the way you’re squirming for me. Bet you’re making a mess in those panties, hmm? Yeah… You can’t hide from me.”

It drives you crazy—beyond crazy. If you thought you’d been mad at Harrison before, you’re practically incandescent with rage by the time fight night comes around.

As your frayed arousal combines with the nerves of the big night, you find yourself alone with Tom, half an hour before the most important match of his career. Your priorities have shifted, your mood sobered by the situation.

“Visualise it,” you murmur, voice soft. You roll your hands over Tom’s shoulders. “Think about how good it’ll feel to hold that belt in your hands.”

Tom hums. He’s sitting on one of the hard wooden benches in the locker room. You’re kneeling behind him, occasionally dropping your lips to kiss the top of his head. After months of supporting him before a fight, you know exactly what he needs: you, touching him, grounding him. He doesn’t like distractions so near to the fight, which is why he has his eyes closed. Whenever he opens them, it’s only to look at the bright red gloves settled in his lap. You know that he appreciates you, even when he’s unable to vocalise it, too lost in his thoughts.

“You’ve trained your whole life for this moment, Tom. You deserve it.”

It’s a mantra. Harrison had taught it to you. Small words of affirmation, repeated softly over the lead-up, speaking them into existence. Tom hums, listening intently.

“You’re going to win,” you speak, your own eyes shut. You focus on the feeling of his shoulders, packed firm with muscles between your hands. “You’re going to win, and then you’re going to fuck me.”

Tom shifts, his posture straightening a little, and your eyes widen as you realise you’ve let your inner thoughts interrupt the ritual.

“I don’t think that’s on Harrison’s script, darling,” he mutters, voice amused.

You reach forward, drawing one of your hands over his forehead. Your fingers play with his hair, and you scrunch up your nose as you chastise yourself for your deviation.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Just fucking horny. Your fault.”

“Mm, sorry.” Tom grunts when you pull on his hair a little harder, and you repeat the action. “Fuck, love.” He groans louder and tilts his head to the side, exposing the pale column of his neck. “Give me a hickey?”

You oblige, dipping your head so you can rest your lips on his neck. “Where?” You ghost your lips over varying points on his skin, teasing him with light nibbles.

“There,” Tom mutters. One glance at his face confirms he’s still got his eyes shut. When you give in to his desire and start to suck a deep hickey to his skin, he grunts and reaches up to grab at your hands, squeezing your fingers roughly. “Shit.”

“There you go,” you say, voice soft as you pull back.

“Thanks, love,” Tom mutters. “Want to wear it in the ring. Good luck charm.”

You bite your lip, your centre throbbing as you listen to him. You kiss the mark, stained dark against his skin.

“You’ve got this, Tom,” you whisper, redirecting your lips to his ear. His neck prickles with goosebumps when you kiss his earlobe, softly. “You’re going to win, then you’re going to come back, and we’ll celebrate together. Okay?”

Tom’s still holding your hands, firm and eager, and you smile against his neck when he squeezes them.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll win. I’ll do it for you.”

You kiss the back of his head, his soft curls gentle against your cheeks.

“Love you, champ.”

He coaxes one of your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palm.

“Love you too, darling.”

———

The atmosphere sharpens when Tom gets out to the ring.

It’s a big match. The press is here, the fight streamed live to thousands of people across the world. As Tom strides into the ring to take on his opponent, you settle at the side of it, looking up through the ropes with Harrison by your side.

Tom starts off strong—a few hard jabs here, some quick punches there. He dodges and rolls, his bright red gloves raining down over his opponent. Yet, both Tom and his rival are the best of their class, so it’s a nail-biting half-hour spent with your fingers crossed, eyes trained on your boyfriend as he throws everything he has into the ring.

When they break halfway through the match for a few minutes of respite, you’re quick to slip up into the ring and assist Tom’s trainer as they patch up his injured hand. Tom doesn’t say anything, his teeth frozen in the hard white mouth guard, but he squeezes your hand before you step out again, and you know he’s still in there.

The second half only gets more intense—both of them knowing how close the match is, and adjusting accordingly. Tom and his opponent are more reckless, more brutal, and you watch your boyfriend take risks he’d promised to never try to take. It leaves you an anxious mess, but you can’t help but watch him in awe.

Tom’s time in the ring is a performance, beautifully violent, elegantly composed. Spit sprays, sweat drips, blood rolls. He’s loud—very vocal, his sounds almost brutish. His eyes glint black, brown curls stiff with sweat, face on fire. You find it incredibly attractive to watch him in his element, not just because he physically looks incredible, but also because he’s so utterly committed to his trade that everything else fades away. His passion burns, scorches the ground, ripples over his opponent, and in the end, Tom rises, and his rival sinks.

It’s close, and though you have the suspicion that your boyfriend might have snagged it, you hold your breath until it’s confirmed. Your grip on Harrison’s hand is so tight that he curses, but you don’t release it until the MC yells Tom’s name as champion and thrusts his arm triumphantly into the air.

The arena explodes. Your ears ring as you clap and cheer, tears of pride pooling in your eyes. The first thing Tom does is turn around, looking at you with an expression of elated shock on his face. Then, after accepting the belt and speaking a few hurried words of thanks into the microphone of the leading journalist, he comes straight to you.

“Tom!” You exclaim, shaking from emotion. It’s a blend of adrenaline, pride and nerves, cooling your body, making you quiver. Tom reaches down from the ring and grabs both of your hands, jerking you up to him. You dodge past the ropes, almost tripping in his haste, but he grabs you.

Still with the bright stage lights blinding the ring, Tom sweeps you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hot hands burning into your waist. You release a loud noise of surprise, taken entirely off-guard but rolling with the punches. Tom pushes you back against the ropes of the ring as your hands curl into his sweaty hair, and your brief hope that they’ve stopped broadcasting live is set aside as Tom comes closer, caging you in with his buff arms. It’s messy and dirty, his tongue twisting against yours, lips firm, intense, but it’s everything. As you let go of the tension you’d been harbouring all evening, another very prominent emotion burns to the surface: arousal.

“I fucking did it,” Tom breathes finally, forehead pushed to yours. He sounds so proud of himself that it makes you smile, tears reappearing in your eyes as you nod.

“You did,” you confirm. You pull on his hair and push him back so you’re able to see his eyes, dark and hungry. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He stares into your eyes for a moment, and then kisses you again, with so much intensity it knocks your breath from your lungs. When he pulls back, he uses one very hot hand to cup your cheek, holding you tightly.

“I have to do some interview shit,” Tom says, grimacing. He tilts his head at the championship belt, which now lies on the floor of the ring, discarded. He’s smirking as he brings his gaze back to you. “Meet me in the locker room? Ten minutes.”

You nod.

“Don’t be late.”

———

You wait for Tom in the team’s locker room, taking the time to lock all of the side doors that lead out from the room. His team has been around the two of you for long enough to know that it’s best to give you a wide berth in the few hours after Tom’s won a match, but you can never be too sure. Once you’re finished with that, you go to the liberty of pulling off your shoes, your jumper, and all the jewellery you’d put on for the night.

Then, you wait.

You wait, and you think about how magnificent Tom had looked as he’d fought, arms flexing, jaw set firm in a focused grimace. You rewatch the scenes of him thrusting the belt into the air, yelling elatedly. You think about how fucking mad he’s made you feel over the last two weeks, edging you and denying you, over and over again. It feels as though you’ve been permanently aroused for seven days straight, and now is no exception: just from spending all evening ogling him, you can feel your arousal wetting the front of your panties.

“Fuck,” Tom exclaims, suddenly bursting into the locker room. You turn around to watch him sling the championship belt over his shoulder as he hurries to flick the lock on the main door, knowing the routine as well as you. When he gets it, he turns and stalks over to you, picking up into a jog. “That took so fucking long,” he groans. He throws the belt away and pulls you from the bench, pushing you until your back bumps up against one of the metal lockers. Tom grins, his nose pressing to yours as he smothers you, hands back on your hips, forehead to yours, breath spreading over your face. “Couldn’t wait to get back here and see you.”

You draw your hands over his back, feeling his muscles tense and flex.

“Just see me?” You ask, ghosting your lips over his.

Tom tightens his grip on your waist. “No,” he mutters darkly. He kisses you, only for a second, but very hard. “Couldn’t wait to get back here, rip your clothes off, and finally give you everything you deserve.”

“Everything I deserve?” You raise your eyebrows, running your hands lower. “I think you deserve more, baby.” You smirk against his lips. “You just won the biggest fight of your life.”

“That’s true…” Tom steps back, only for a moment, and you watch as he reaches beneath the waistband of his gym shorts and grunts. A second later, he pulls out the hard protective cup that shields his lower half from injury in the ring, and he groans, loudly, his forehead pressing to yours. “I’m so fucking hard, darling,” he whines. He steps closer, and you feel him, stiff as a rod, pressing into your thigh. “Need to get it out of me.”

You nod, your head moving back as Tom runs a hand over your throat and tilts it to the side. His lips attack your neck, biting hard kisses to the side of your throat that make you moan, your pulse feeling strong between your legs.

“Shit,” you curse. “Get in the shower.”

Tom sucks a harsh hickey just below your ear before pulling back to wiggle his eyebrows. “The shower, eh?”

“Yeah.” You step out of his hold and start to tear off your clothes, your skin rippling with heat. “Gonna suck you off.” You fling your t-shirt to the ground and roll down your jeans, watching as Tom does the same. “Then… Then, you can fuck me… Shit, I’m definitely going to need you to fuck me.” You throw your bra aside and then push down your panties, the waistband rolling in on itself due to your speed. “I’m so wet, Tom.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Tom says, eyes taking in your bare form. “Been dreaming about feeling you again, love.” He finally pulls down his boxers, and his hard cock springs out. “Two weeks is far too long. Get over here.”

Tom grabs your hand and tugs you into one of the wide shower cubicles. Both of you curse as he turns the valve and the water comes out freezing cold, but the stark contrast to the raging fire burning up your insides is nice.

You kiss him for a while, as the two of you get soapy and Tom washes away the grime. His skin is soft beneath your hands and the noises he makes as you massage his dodgy shoulder would be erotic enough without the presence of his cock, hard and leaking precum, resting between your thighs. You make out for a while, savouring every moment and enjoying the fact you’re now able to kiss him for longer than two seconds without worrying about exciting him too much. It’s still just as intense as before, but less hurried, and more passionate—Tom’s fingers pushing your damp hair out of your face, water droplets rolling down your figures. To be so bare in front of him and have him so ravenous for you makes you want him more than anything.

“Get back,” you murmur, pushing his shoulders. Tom obeys, his body pressing against the yellow tiled wall. You run a trail of kisses down his torso, paying attention to both of his pecs before his abs, then his v-line. Your knees bend, and you kneel on the floor, kissing up his thighs briefly before finally taking him in hand.

“Fuck-” Tom yells. His hands wind into your hair, flat palms grasping at your skull when you drag your tongue over his tip. “Been so long, love, I won’t last long at all.”

You hum as you tenderly lick over his head, absorbing his salty precum and moaning at the taste. “I know,” you say, your hand slowly tugging his length. You give his tip a chaste kiss as you blink up at him, smiling innocently. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to cum down my throat.” Very slowly, you envelop his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head gently. You pull back after only a few moments, needing to add, “Want you to fuck my face, Tom.”

Your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your cheek, his voice strained from the way your hand is pumping his lower shaft. “Are you sure? Might not be gentle.”

“Yeah.” You nod your head too. “Want it rough. ‘M so fucking horny, and so are you. Want you to make my throat ache tomorrow.”

Tom curses, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so sexy,” he whines, slapping your cheek gently. “Thank you.”

You consider telling him that it’s almost as much for you as it is for him, but then you decide that the sight of his cock, flushed red, leaking precum, is your number one priority. So, you loosen your hand on his member and remove it completely, then soften your jaw and start to take him in your mouth, deep-throating him like you’ve ached to do for two weeks.

Tom’s fast to use his leverage on your head, guiding you with shaking hands. Both of you know that all you have to do to tap out is press his thigh, so you let him use you however he needs. Tears pool in your eyes as he fucks your mouth hard, his tip hitting the end of your throat until you gag. The lewd sounds mix with the pounding of the shower against the tiles and Tom’s grumbled groans that spiral up into the air.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he says, voice raspy and light. “So good, sweetheart, fuck. Such a pretty mouth. Feels so bloody good.” He breaks off for a moment, and you feel him shifting around on the wall, indicating he’s near his peak. “So messy too, fuck. Missed this. Watching you on your knees, gagging on my cock.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes you deeper, groaning loudly as he does so. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Gonna cum all down your throat. Shit, shit-”

Tom stops moving your head as he yelps, one of his hands curling into a fist and hitting back against the wall as he cums suddenly. You swallow around him, pulling up until your lips are at his tip, and your hand goes up to pump the rest of him through his orgasm. His entire body shakes, releasing the pent-up frustration that comes with so long in denial, and you take joy in the light whimpers he deposits into the air as you suck on his tip, cleaning him up.

“Holy…” Tom grabs your hair and pulls you back up, slumping against you instead of the wall as he pants. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulls back to look at you, his thumb coming up to play with the beads of his cum that stain the corner of your mouth. “Made a mess,” he coos, pushing his seed onto your tongue. You grin as you suck his thumb further into your mouth, delighting as he curses. “You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart. You really are.”

You release his finger with a pop, shrugging. “How was that?”

Tom groans again, the sound almost orgasmic. “So good,” he mumbles. “Been so long, darling. So, so long.” He kisses your face, dusting your cheeks in light, loving kisses. When he pulls back, his eyes are a little darker. “Bet you’d like to chase that high too, wouldn’t you?” He accompanies his words with a sly hand, slipping down between your legs. When he feels your slick, so pronounced it’s coating your inner thighs, he tuts, smirking. “All this for me?”

You nod, whining breathlessly as he slips two fingers up to toy with your bud. You feel like a livewire—strung out and pulsing, white-hot. Unlike him, you’ve had some stimulation over the last two weeks. Just, you’ve also been cruelly pulled away from the edge, every single time.

“Just for you,” you agree. Your face drops forward, and you find yourself biting Tom’s broad shoulder as he curls two fingers into you with ease.

“You’re so hot in here,” he mutters, “and so wet, too. Fuck, love. You’re dripping down my hand.” When he angles his digits up to caress your g-spot, he strikes it immediately, and you moan noisily. “There you go, baby. Shh. It’s okay.” Tom fucks your tight heat, gradually unravelling you. “I’ve got you.”

Your moans come out strangled, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers as your high builds quickly. It won’t take much to push you over the edge, and as much as it pains you—

“I don’t want to cum on your hand, Tom,” you manage, your voice betraying you by splitting into a whimper. “Want to cum on your cock.”

Tom slows his fingers, but he keeps thrusting them into you, just too slowly for you to peak. You groan, your centre pulsing as he keeps you burning near the edge, his lips on your neck again. He gently kisses up to your ear, mouth feather-light.

“Are you sure?” He coos, nibbling at your earlobe. “Feels like you want to cum.” When Tom adds his other hand, two fingers gently stroking your tender bud, your knees almost give out. “Can feel you clenching around me, Y/N, naughty girl.” He kisses just below your ear. “If you want something, you know how you need to ask for it.”

You’re all over the place, your eyes squeezed shut, sweat breaking out over your forehead, your cunt clenching and releasing every other second. You’re so close you can almost taste it, but you try to exercise self-control.

“Please, Tom.” It takes everything in you, but you manage to stand up straighter again, looking at him straight-on. His eyes dance dark with power and lust, his smirk unmoving as he thrusts his fingers a little faster. “W-Want you to fuck me. Been waiting so long, don’t want to fall apart if it isn’t with you behind me. Please, please, please, please-”

He cuts you off with a hard kiss, and finally, Tom pulls his hands away. He runs them both through the stream of water before reaching back to clumsily turn off the valve.

“I fucking love you,” he tells you. “Couldn’t deny you anything. Not really.” Tom takes your hand. “C’mere.”

Tom carefully pulls you over to one of the wooden benches. After draping a towel over the wooden slats, he pushes you down onto your hands and knees, his fingers spreading your legs. You whimper as you feel his cock, hard again, refracted in the interlude he’d constructed with his hands working you into insanity. Your knuckles clench around the slabs of wood, and despite already feeling the ache in your knees, it only spurs you on. You love the pain, love the visible, throbbing reminders of Tom, and he knows it just as much as you do.

“Look so pretty like this, darling,” Tom says, voice drifting through the air. Both of his hands go to your ass, roughly massaging your skin until his right hand slaps down across you, stinging bright hot. He repeats the action when you moan loudly, the slapping sound ringing out through the air. Each time his hand falls over you, you only grow hotter. It doesn’t matter that you’re still covered in water from the shower, you’re burning up. “G’nna let me take you like this, eh? Fuck this tight little pussy, like I know you’ve been dreaming of.”

When Tom lines his tip up with your entrance, you find yourself clinging to the edge of the bench with your fingers.

“Yes,” you beg, backing up against him. You feel like you might dissolve into a mess of arousal, tears, and desperation if he doesn’t satisfy you soon. “Please.”

Tom runs a hand up your back, fingers drifting over the line of your spine. He drops his lips and kisses the lower part of your back, so delicately it makes you quiver.

“Okay,” he says. “G’nna give it to you good.”

He enters you quickly and easily, and you almost lose it from the first thrust alone. You’re so slick that Tom’s swift in pulling back and then slamming back into you, his hands holding your hips back and in place as your arms wobble and your figure loses control. You drop your head between your arms, the blood rushing to your skull and making you feel light-headed as he rocks into you, over and over again, giving you everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

“Tom,” you gasp, your breaths heavy and inconsistent. It feels indescribable—the final denouement of your time apart. Each drag of his cock through your heat has you reeling, your walls quivering and clenching and trying desperately to keep him in, keep him nudging your g-spot, stimulating your passage. You’re moaning louder than you’ve ever moaned before, the coil in your stomach building and building without warning or direction.

Behind you, Tom seems to be enjoying it just as much as you. His libido strong and healthy and his body pumped full of pre-match adrenaline that it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest that he’s being so hard and purposeful in his movements. His groans are like music to your ears, small grunts of affirmation that he too has missed the paradise that unfolds when you join together.

“So fucking tight, angel,” he rasps, again letting his hand fall over your ass. He soothes the skin with his palm, and then he repeats the action two more times. “Feel you clenching me every time I do that.” He pinches your hip with his other hand, and you find yourself biting your forearm, embarrassed by how loud you think you’d moan if you were able to. “You love it rough like this, don’t you, darling? Mm… I know you do.”

It’s a dizzying blur of skin on skin for a while, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge on multiple occasions. It’s as if your body is holding back though, waiting on Tom to near it too before you’re able to fully let go. Almost sensing this, he reaches down and shoves his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging you up until your back is pressed against his front. The angle pushes him deeper, and your eyes flood with tears as you find yourself unable to comprehend just how good it feels.

“Y’like that?” He rasps. Tom drags a hand down to your clit, able to access it better now that he’s holding you so much closer. His pace is slower, but he’s going forcefully, his head hitting your g-spot every time. “Fuck, darling, I’m gonna cum if you keep clenching like that.”

You whimper, your chest heaving.

“Yeah,” you moan. His name pours from your lips like a prayer, rising in desperation as you slip back down, hands grabbing at the slats of the bench as you hold on for dear life. “Fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Come on,” Tom urges. “Do it. I want to feel you squeezing my cock so tight, like you always do. Always makes me lose it, doesn’t it, love? Shit, you’re so perfect. Go on. I’ve got you. Get my cock nice and wet, and I’ll fill you up. You’d like that, eh? Feeling me cumming inside this pretty pussy? Come on. You know what you have to do.”

It slams into you, pouring down over you in waves that submerge you entirely. You feel boneless but also rigid at the same time, your jaw slack as your vision blurs. Pleasure ripples out from your centre, dousing your aching cunt in relief that feels so sweet, only growing richer and more fulfilling when you hear Tom grunt and feel his cock pulse in you. You come together, bodies moving in sync, perfectly, despite the time apart, and it’s so good that it takes you out of it completely.

You’re so absorbed in your climax that you end up drifting, opening your eyes a few moments later only to find yourself lying on your back, staring up at the bright white lines of the locker room ceiling. Your eyes blur with tears, but just for a moment, because then Tom’s palm swims into vision, drifting above your head until he finds the right angle that blocks out the light.

“Hey, darling,” he coos. He brings one of your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Are you okay? Lost you for a second.”

A very lazy, content smile finds your lips.

“Yeah,” you say sluggishly. You ache all over, but it feels incredible. You’re buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a session like this—after you’ve let him dismantle you completely. “Are you okay?”

Tom nods, his wet hair flying everywhere. “Fantastic,” he confirms. He glances down your figure, then offers you a soft smile. “I’m going to take you home, run you a really, really nice bath, and then we’re going to cuddle.” He drops your hand and instead cups your face in his palm. You nuzzle into it. His eyes are so soft as he gazes at you tenderly. “You’re so lovely, Y/N. I love you.”

You smile softly. “Love you too.”

Tom leans over you and kisses your lips, very gently, before shifting his mouth all over the rest of your face. He goes from one cheek, over to your forehead, down your nose, to the other, before circling back to your mouth. By the time he reaches there, your smile has grown to a grin, and you feel grounded enough to reach up and loop your fingers into his hair.

“Thank you,” he says, speaking earnestly, “for always being here for me. For supporting me, and putting up with all my crazy ideas, and being incredible, always. You are my inspiration, and I love you more than anything.”

You feel your heart throb in your chest, and you have to focus really hard on stopping the swell of emotion from leaving through your tired eyes.

“Any time,” you say, nodding to emphasise your point. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you might need, I’ll do it.”

Tom’s warm brown eyes meet with yours, and the smile on his face shows no sign of leaving.

“All I need is you,” he says. His lips come down to yours, softly, just resting there. “All I’ll ever need is you.”

—

———

:)) I rlly like this tbh. I hope you do too !

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[lazyliars]

Thinking about Tales from The SMP...

So, If I’m interpreting things correctly, Karl canonically doesn’t get to choose when or where he time travels to, meaning that something, or if the books are any indicator, someone, is deciding where he goes, and what “story” he experiences.

“Stories like todays can show that not everything necessarily has to end in misery.”

So, setting aside the obvious question of Who, I’d like to take a moment to consider some of the Why.

Namely, why are the stories that Karl is experiencing necessary for whatever it is he’s doing/going to do?

The Masquerade makes the most sense as of right now - It gives Karl forewarning about the Egg, how it operates, and that it’s old.

It, interestingly enough, doesn’t give us more than that. The only new piece of information the viewers get is, as previously mentioned, that the Egg has been around for awhile.

This lets the theorists narrow things down a little, but the general viewership doesn’t get much out of this nugget of information, so we have to assume that the narrative purpose this serves is to bring Karl up to speed on the Egg stuff.

The Lost City of Mizu again reaffirms the information we already have. In it’s climactic reveal of the Dream Room, we learn that Dream was worshiped through blood sacrifice, and that Ranbob might have murdered the entire city, which reminds Karl and the audience that Dream’s Not A Good Fella.

We could also extrapolate that this is a warning from the In-between that Ranboo is compromised and/or has a connection to Dream, but we’ve yet to see them interact properly so that’s just speculation for now.

The other episodes are less clear in their intended message, lesson, or warning.

The Town that Went Mad gave little to no concrete links to the modern day SMP (until Ponk began to tie it into his lore, which is baller btw go check him out, but which afaik was not planned during the writing of the episode so I’m not counting it to be safe.)

Tubbo/Robin also drops a line about the “Red-Eyed Village Wars” which some have linked to Egg plot. The time period could easily line up with the Masquerade and The Wild West, but there’s every chance that this was a throwaway line from Tubbo, and completely unplanned. We just don’t know. 

But more than lore drops, The Town That Went Mad shows Karl an eerily familiar scene - a community of people tearing themselves apart to root out the source of conflict. It’s not quite a 1-1, as the town did have more clear cut “bad guys” then the current SMP, but the similarity remains.

I’ll only count The Town That Never Was as tentatively part of the tales canon. It was the pilot episode, and it doesn’t involve time travel, at least as far as we know.

As for what it has to teach, it’s a clear recreation of the destruction of L’manberg. I don’t know what this teaches, but, uh, yeah.

Then there’s the Beach Episode... It’s got that early installment weirdness, Karl is still very obviously working out the kinks in his storytelling style and voice, and it’s clear that he hasn’t fleshed out what he wants this to be yet. As a consequence, the following theory is tenuous at best, please take it with a grain of salt.

At first glance, the Beach Episode seems to have no lore-relevance. It’s just a fun jaunt between a group of friends.

But, this was streamed on Jan 9th - a time at which Dream had just blown L’manberg up with Techno, and was hiding outside of the SMP lands. This episode also features Ranboo and Dream, the former of which has stated that he and Dream haven’t spoken once, meaning that either he was in Enderwalk when this happened, or this episode not only doesn’t fit into the timeline, but it doesn’t fit into the canon at all.

Now, there’s a good chance that this is just meant to be taken as a filler episode, and we should ignore the canon inconsistencies. However, I’m have adhd that want thing be deeper than it is.

I propose that this Episode is canonical, and takes place in an Alternate Universe - visited by Karl to teach him that, despite how horrible things are right now, they could be better, even idyllic, where a group of friends can cavort around a beach and look for treasure without a care in the world.

This explains the inconsistencies - In this Universe, Dream either didn’t blow up L’manberg, or Ranboo and the rest of the dteam + Bad didn’t mind him doing so.

This opens the door for other AU themed episodes though - silly ones, serious ones... I for one would love to see an over-the-top “darkest timeline” episode, where everyone talks in a low, gruff voice and tries to be darker and edgier than each other.

More lore-oriented, we could see canon-divergence - maybe a “Pog 2020 wins the Elections” story, or a “What if Eret never betrayed?”

I feel like this would give a lot of freedom and give some opportunities to people to explore their current characters on the SMP in ways that they otherwise wouldn’t be able to. It also serves the narrative, giving Karl reason(s) not to mess up the timeline, lest he get these strange offshoots.

Anyway, I would love to hear what people think about this, and any ideas for AUs that could be explored through the Tales format...

[sepublic]

Y’all ever read an angst fic without a happy ending that just UTTERLY wrecks you. And even if you know what happened in the fic would never happen in canon, that the characters would never do that, that it isn’t canon by the end of the day and just someone else’s interpretation- You just can’t rest?

Because even if you look at other fan content that has the characters be happy or reconciling, deep in your heart you know that this version of the characters, from that fic you read, will never get that happiness? And even if they did, that doesn’t change nor retcon the tragedy of what happened, it still happened and will forever mar their memories, and it’s just so unfair-

And then because you’re an utter wuss, your heart hurts. You feel a genuine pressure there from the ache and emotional pain that makes the chest feel heavy, that’s how powerful this fic was, especially if you really resonate with the characters hurt! Sometimes you gotta take a deep breath, just to relieve the physical hurt, and all the while you curse yourself because why are you so goddamn sensitive, they’re just fictional!

Just move on but you can’t, the worry and lack of closure is getting to you even when you should be working on something else, and then suddenly it’s hard to focus! Then you can’t even enjoy other happy content, especially if it included those hurt faves, because you keep thinking back to THAT fic and how that happened and how it ended there, and how it will always be left off at that point forever.

Seeing your faves, even in a happy context, just reminds you of that unresolved angst and it leaves an empty hole in your heart. It’s this bitter feeling and taste in your mouth and a part of you wishes you never read that, especially if the angst came as a gut-punch and back-stab to genuine emotional vulnerability and happiness, because there’s just that feeling of frustrated betrayal! And you WANT just the happy bits but not the sad bits, and it reminds you sometimes of things in your life that went so right until this one thing at the very end ruined it all. And now that happiness is forever tainted by the bitter potential that was torn away- And you can never take that back, can’t take back what happened, not in the story nor in real life. And it’s just utter despair when you realize that because what’s even the point of trying then?

Just... man. People really write this stuff for free, stuff that makes me FEEL, huh? And then they tear out my heart and stomp on it and I’m impressed but also lowkey salty. And obviously this all speaks to the larger wonder of the human condition and experience, but just focusing on the moment wow this really sucks. The characters really deserved better and seeing them happy is like a reminder that this is a lie of what they won’t ever have in that fic, and JEEZ why are you such a drama queen over a piece of fiction?!

And by the end of the day, there’s that bitter resignation that it might just take time. Time for you to heal and move on. But you’ll be damned if you won’t be kicking and screaming the whole way because that stuff made you FEEL things, and if you’re going to tease me with happiness, follow through on it! You’re lowkey salty and in some ways wish you never read that. But who knows? Life is weird. There IS a catharsis to sadness for many, but for some you also really need relief afterwards, especially if you really care for and resonate with these characters, that angst for them actually hits close to home!

So then you’re just bitterly left considering what could’ve been. Oh, if the author had cut things off at that happy point! Just kept it fluffy! But of course you’re not entitled to their writing decisions and the fact that it makes you feel this way is a testament to how good it is. And sometimes you’re just left wishing it wasn’t that good. Alas, that’s just how it is sometimes- Opening yourself to joy means opening yourself up to despair. And writers are entitled to make what they want, you kind of accepted the warnings. Plus as someone who’s written angst without a happy ending yourself, you’re not one to talk- There’s this dim realization of “So that’s what it feels like.”

You have empathy for your readers now and does this mean you will be more merciful? Who can tell. Sometimes if something hurts you as a writer that YOU made, you kind of revel in sharing that with others so their reactions can validate your feelings, and so they can get that unusual catharsis too. There’s that satisfaction that you can inspire emotion. Maybe we can BOTH share the pain and move past it together, of what happened in this story- Especially if you don’t intend to expand on it. Like damn that’s cruel exposing others to that misery of your own making, but that’s also media and content and catharsis y’all.

And sometimes it’s worse when it’s not a fanfic but a fully official piece of media. Sometimes that can be WORSE because it IS fully canon, even if there’s usually a hopeful guarantee that there has to be a resolution. But not always, depending on the type of media at hand. And as I said, that’s just part of the risk, and really the thrill, of emotionally opening up and engaging with media, with putting yourself and your heart there, seeing yourself, and having empathy that feels like pain to yourself when those characters suffer. Empathy sure is a bitch, but it’s a begrudgingly worthwhile one that you’d never give up. And that’s just for FICTION, too- Stuff that isn’t even real, characters not even actual people with real emotions!

Jeez- You’re an utter mess. And lemme tell you it’s even worse when that fic leaves off right in the middle of that despair, not even giving either you nor the characters that coping period to come to terms with what happened. Just leaving them stunned in that eternal hurt, right smack dab in the middle of where it hurts most. Not even the luxury of getting to step back and look back, no you and the characters, they never left that moment, and that’s what I mean when it sucks about that lack of closure. This is their ending and that’s all there is, any speculation lends to the worst of your imagination.

So it’s like you’re both trapped in that moment. No time afterwards to recover. No time afterwards to reflect, even if it still ends in despair, because there’s not even that solace of it ending, of you getting away physically- You’re still IN that moment forever, and it’s lowkey suffocating and feels like it’s surrounding you 24/7. You can never escape, you won’t, it’s still there and always will be- You’ll always be there. You’re trapped and you need an escape, anything, but it’s not there. And even if you write your own escape and happy resolution or alternate ending in denial, that’s just your imagination and wishful thinking, not the reality of what happened in that story. So not even your or others’ fanfic can help, and dammit this really sucks huh?

You can’t move on because you never got to see the characters do the same, after all- And unfortunately, you’re seeing too much of yourself in them. It’s all fun and games torturing the reader until you, the writer, are one of them! And in some ways the writer IS the reader too, of their own work, they have the control so that just makes it all the more funny that the writer still subjects themselves to that anyway, stubbornly. With determined, sadomasochistic resolve. You’re gonna make your own bed and lie in it, yet you complain how the bed was made and that you’re lying in it in the first place, when no one is making you!

Why are you like this, why do you keep coming back to this? But again, such is catharsis and that release of emotion that puts it into words and something that feels real and validating, when otherwise you’re just dead inside and can’t explain nor justify it. Sometimes it’s easy to be cruel when you’re detached, other times you deliberately hurt yourself when writing or reading- Because somehow there’s a relief in THAT to your emotions, that you get to feel them fully now instead of just dully grasping at them numbly but not really...

...But damn if you don’t wish it could’ve gotten the happy ending. If you’re writing, there’s always that relief that you’re in control, that you chose this, that you can always reverse it if you wanted. But if you’re a reader or viewer you’re at the helpless whims of someone else, vulnerable and out there. As the writer you saw it coming, but as the audience you’re just as blindsided and betrayed as the characters. There is no hope of agency or change or control, no realization of what’s to come, and THAT. Sucks.

But hey- At least you’re writing about this. At least you’re putting this out there into tangible words, because that makes it feel real. Your feelings are real and valid. And it helps to cope and process and realize how this made you felt and sometimes that’s worse, but also that understand grants some lose agency and control, because you can now at least comprehend it. And maybe then, can you come to terms with it. Accept, and finally... move on. Hopefully to happier things. And if you see yourself in those characters, then it gives hope that they can move on too, in this hypothetical fic, in this universe of theirs where something inevitably had to have happened afterwards.

...Unless they died. But uh, at least YOU can move past that I guess. And that shows that even amidst that despair, others can feel joy afterwards, and damn it if it wasn’t all worth it anyway for those characters, too! You can look back and decide it was worthwhile, so can they in there hypothetical sense, so they don’t regret living even if their ‘death’ wasn’t exactly ideal. That somebody, out there, understands, that it wasn’t all for naught- That the audience can benefit at least from the joy and pain, that the character is at least understood before death, and that provides a relief and closure of its own, that the story is not unsung and unheard nor forgotten, far from it. They are in a sense immortalized by the media and thus protected and preserved, and that can help make up for it- Not just another nameless and senseless tragedy but one that can be learned from and felt for catharsis!

...I dunno, I’ve just been really waxing and poetic lately over angst without a happy ending. I guess talking about that helps to prove my earlier point about coping, but also reassuring myself that it’s not the end of the world. And sharing those feelings out there means others who feel the same can arrive. They can also feel solace and reassurance and validation from this perhaps, and provide it as well. And we realize that in the end, we’re not alone and it’s okay to feel- It gets better. Maybe not that moment, but life as a whole, and even if life doesn’t improve, at least you got that and the release in the first place.

And that’s that relief that because it’s all fiction, it gives you a place to be ultimately safe as you explore these ideas and feelings, VS real life. Your feelings are still real probably, but at least the suffering of the characters themselves isn’t, and that is in many ways a relief, because even if there IS something to be learned from this- There are better and infinitely less painful ways to do so! And dammit, the tragedy can be salvaged to a degree, but the pain was not at ALL worth what we got out of this! This is more minimizing damage by trying to control it than an actual trade really. Suffering CAN be learned from, but let’s be a real, it is it not at all worth it, nor justifies its cause by the end of the day.

Even if the characters’ suffering and by consequence joy isn’t real- Even if they themselves do not exist, what you see in them, what’s reflected from yourself in them, the feelings they inspire... THAT is real and if you can see and feel yourselves in that, in some ways they’re real too, because aren’t you as well? And again, it’s like you’re exploring yourself, but ultimately there’s that safe reprieve that comes from fiction.

...But dammit you really do wish that author had just stuck to the happy bits and not bothered with the angst, we could’ve had it all! And Y’know what, those feelings and gripes are valid, even if the author’s choices are as well. Reader and writer are both valid, just don’t put them in the same room together, because there is SALT there!

[namfine]

Motherlode | Namjoon x Reader | Gold Rush AU | Part 1

❂ pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

❂ word count: 5k

❂ summary: Following the death of your father in 1849, you travel across the United States in search of finding gold in California. There you stumble upon a young geology professor eager to find his way in the world as well. 

❂ tags: 18+, smut, virgin reader, first time sex, oral sex (fem receiving), foreplay, light dirty talk, falling in love, mutual feelings, gold rush au, time period au, alternate universe, outdoor sex? (they’re in a tent so?), smut with plot

❂ part: 1 of 2

Part 2

❂ a/n: Hello everyone, Admin Zesty here! This is the first in a two part series of a new alternate universe set in the California Gold Rush with our dearest Namjoon. I’ll update this and post the next chapter when it’s finished. Hope you enjoy!

- ☆.｡.:* Zesty .｡.:*☆

The sunrises out here really were beautiful. That gave you something to look forward to each day, at least. You urged your horse forward, eager to catch up to the rest of the caravan. It was just a few more miles until you reached the border of California and then a bit more to reach the American River. You had made it. For the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope.

The trek across America had been harder than you expected. You had been so overcome with grief from the death of your father that you had leapt at the opportunity to find riches in the unexplored west after James Marshall found that massive gold nugget. New York had nothing for you now, it’s only purpose serving as a stark reminder that you had no one left in the world to look out for you. Only mean neighbors who trusted your bookshop owning father on his peculiar way of raising a young lady.

“I do oppose young ladies learning how to read, it’s quite unbecoming.”

“If you keep encouraging those debates, Mr. Y/L/N, you’re going to raise her to have a mind of her own!”

“Ugh, did you see what Y/N was wearing around the store the other evening? Pantaloons!”

You shoved down the memories. Yes, leaving New York after the death of your father had been surprisingly easy.

The sun finally tipped over the horizon and flashed in your eyes. You pulled down your cap, careful to keep your hair tucked under it in an effort to block the sun. It was dangerous for a single young lady without a male relative or husband to travel alone. With no known family left, you had done the only thing you knew to avoid it: became a boy.

As a boy you were inconspicuous, you could easily slide under the radar. Men stopped paying attention to you and the streets were safer at night. Your last night in New York all it took was a pair of scissors and a quick raid of your father’s closet and you were ready to go. But now, five months into the journey, your hair was starting to get long again and you knew your face well enough to know that if you didn’t pin your hair, it would soon be easy to tell. You had lost your knife a few months back and sorely felt the loss.

“How are the pains?” A soft voice drew you from your thoughts and you turned to see the minister’s wife astride her sorrel mare beside you. As one of the few women in the group, she had the ability to move quietly when she needed to. She was older than you and had a kind face. Her and her husband were heading to California to spread the gospel of the lord and had been kind enough to let you tag along with their group on the journey. Most of which were practicers of religion or men hoping to find riches for their families. The caravan totaled to about 25 people and of them all, she was the only one that knew you were a girl.

She’d figured it out quickly, given the fact that your period the first month on the road had been brutal. She had recognized your pain, offered you some herbs, and didn’t ask any questions.

When you offered an explanation later, stating how you wanted the opportunity and safety only a man’s appearance could offer, she said you didn’t need to explain. That your reasonings were your own and she understood what would happen if you were discovered. Of the freedom that could be taken from you and the things that could be forced upon you in an instant.

And that was that. Your companionship had grown from there, simple but welcomed.

“They’re better,” you respond. “Thank you for the herbs.”

The woman smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do when you get there?”

You tightened your resolve and flashed her a smile. “I’m gonna kick the West’s ass.”

***

It turns out, the West’s ass didn’t want to be kicked. By the time you had reached the base on the American River parts of your group had dwindled down. The minister and his wife stayed with you and the other panners for a few days before continuing on their journey to San Francisco leaving you, for the first time on this journey, completely and utterly alone.

The base was huge, an expedition set up by a mean old man who called himself The Warden. What his real name was, no one knew. You had that in common with him at least, having kept your true name secret to all who you’d encountered.

It was now, standing in his massive tent surrounded by his men, that the sinking feeling of being a woman in disguise in a camp filled with rascals settled in. If any one were to discover you, god knows what would happen.

“How old are you anyway, boy?” The warden asked. He was standing behind his desk. On it was a map of the American with circles indicating where gold had been found. “You’re a scrawny fella.”

“Sixteen, sir.” 23. But tall, for a girl and well past marriageable age in your neighbors opinions.

The older man scoffed, stroking his mustache. “And you out here searchin’ for riches, son? Gonna blow it all on hookers and booze, I betcha.” The men around him laughed. You kept your face neutral.

“Something like that, sir.”

“Well,” he took a swig from the metal mug. “All walks of life are welcome here. We’re all runnin’ from somethin’ and searchin’ for the-” he held up a finger “-one thing that will help us escape.” He put down the mug and grabbed a piece of paper from his desk, careful to avoid smudging the ink on the map. “Sign here and you can start tomorrow.”

You looked at the paper. Lucky for you, your father had believed that everyone, regardless of gender should be taught to read. You couldn’t say the same for the parents of other girls your age. He had also taught you to be wary of a contract. “What is it?”

“An agreement, boy. You sign away 60 days of honest work to me, panning for gold and helping assemble my mine. After that, I’ll let you pan here for free. Anything you find, you keep.”

Seems fair.

“What if I find something before my days are up?”

He looked at you. “Then it’s mine. I’m letting you sleep here and eat our food, I gotta pay for it all somehow and aren’t we all in this for profit?”

Touche.

“Deal.”

***

The days were long and the work was hard. Regardless, you found yourself quickly settling into a routine at the camp. You started most mornings down by the river, panning for gold. The cool water managed to balance out the hot sun and compared to the noisy streets of New York, you were loving the sounds of the birds and the wind.

In the afternoons you would sometimes continue panning or they would send you into the mines to help clear paths. You hated it down there. There was something unnerving about going deep into the earth and digging into her crevices. The air smelled damp and the only light was the lanterns that were hung haphazardly along the walls. You tried to avoid this work as much as possible.

On the eighth day of your sentence your routine was broken by a disturbance on the outskirts of the main base. A young professor had arrived a few days earlier and you had paid him little mind, as did most of the other miners. Still, it seemed his time of going unnoticed was over.

“What did you say about my gold?” An angry man had the lanky professor by his collar and up against a tree, two of his friends closing in on either side.

The professor waved his arms in surrender, trying desperately to fix whatever it was he seemed to have started. You stopped along the path along with a few other panners to observe and a small crowd gathered shortly.

“I merely spoke the truth,” The professor said, his voice even and calm. “What you have there isn’t gold at all. It’s pyrite. You trading it for time off his sentence seems hardly fair considering it's pretty much worthless.”

You shook your head at his honesty in such a compromising position. What an idiot.

“Look,” The panner said, tightening his grip on the professor's collar. “ I may not have some fancy degree from some big college but I’ve been working these waters a lot longer than you, boy, and I know gold when I see it.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make, when you don’t know the differences. I hardly blame you.”

Your mouth dropped open. The men around you shifted on their feet, sensing a scuffle.

The man fumed. “Are you calling me a liar?”

The professor looked down at his collar at the spot where the man gripped his collar before tracing the man’s arm with his eyes slowly back to his face.

Oh god, you thought. Please don’t say it.

“I don’t think you’re a liar,” the professor stated.

Oh, good. He has some sense at least.

“Just an idiot.”

Here we go.

The man pulled back his other fist, his friends egging him on, ready to throw the punch. The professor shot another one of his goofy grins and this time you could have sworn it was in your direction. You stared at him in abject confusion.

“Stop!” A shout rang out across the group and everyone froze. “What’s going on here?”

You turned to see the warden fast approaching, his usual squad hot on his heels. “Men, release the professor and explain!”

The man holding the professor’s collar dropped it and the professor brushed off his shirt, giving him another small smile. “This here smart guy,” the assailant started. “Was accusin’ me of lyin’. Sayin’ that I was rippin’ ole Jimmy off with a piece of . . . uh. . .” he looked at the professor.

The professor leaned forward. “Pyrite,” he supplied.

“Ah, yeah,” the man continued. “Pyrite! He said I was rippin’ Jimmy off with a piece of this here Pyrite!”

The warden looked up at the heaven’s like he was hoping today would be his last day on earth. “Could I see the mineral in question?”

The man supplied the gem out of his pocket and handed it to the warden. The crowd stood on their tiptoes as he examined it, eager to see the verdict. The professor didn’t show any emotion, merely crossed his arms in quiet confidence. You studied his movements.  

The warden turned the piece over in his hands, examining the mineral before bringing it to his mouth and biting down. When he was satisfied he turned toward the assailant.

“The professor accused you of lyin’ not because he thought you were,” the warden began, startlingly calm. “But because he knew you were a FUCKING IDIOT!” The warden threw the stone against the tree, mere inches past the assailants head who cowered at the tone. “That is pyrite you imbecile!”

The crowd burst into conversation. Some laughed and others stated their opinions on the matter but your eyes stayed  glued to the young professor. He watched you for a minute in response before turning to address the warden who was explaining his position to his lackeys. You moved closer so you could hear better, eager to learn more about the strange man who had appeared on the base. You had to admit, he was handsome but the pretty ones always brought trouble.

“Gentlemen, this is Professor Kim,” the warden introduced the young man to his group. They all nodded and introduced themselves in return but you didn’t bother to remember their names. “He is visitin’ us from a University overseas. Here to assist in discoverin’ where to best find the most valuable of Earth’s metals. He’s a . . . uhh. . . geographer or somethin’,” the warden explained. “Studies dirt and the like.”

“Geologist,” Professor Kim corrected. “A mining geologist to be specific. I study the  extractions of mineral resources from the Earth.”

The group stared at him.

“Rocks,” he sighed, defeated. “I study rocks.”

A chorus of ‘Ahh’s’ broke out amongst the men. You stifled a laugh. You may not have traveled much but growing up in your father’s bookshop you had read a lot and even you knew what a geologist was.

“Regardless,” the warden continued, casting a dismissive hand in the Professor’s direction. “The higher ups seem hell bent on makin’ sure he makes progress in his work and comes out with as few - er - scratches as possible.”

Professor Kim tilted his head. “I would also very much appreciate that.”

“That being said,” the warden turned around looking over the crowd. “You there, boy!” The warden pointed in your direction. Surprised, you looked behind you. No one was there. You looked back at him, pointing at yourself.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” the warden spat. “You’re to assist the professor during his time here. Make sure he has everythin’ he needs and most of all, make sure he stays out of trouble.”

The warden turned on his heel to leave, clearly believing the matter to be settled.

You chased after him, as the crowd began to disperse, struggling to maintain your composure and keep your cool. “Sir, with all due respect I need to be on the rive-”

“Look, boy, I don’t have time to deal with this. You heard my command,” He turned lowering himself closer to your face. He reeked of body odor and whiskey and you struggled not to cover your nose. “-and my command is law. You signed that there contract, you work for me. And I say: you’re to be assistin’ the professor for the rest of his time here, and that’s that.” He spun on his heel and was gone. In a few short minutes the crowd was fully gone, leaving only you and the young professor.

Defeated, you cursed under your breath, not sure what you had done to deserve this. You were supposed to be out here finding gold, getting rich, and starting a new life far away from your troubles in the East and now you were supposed to babysit some yippy foreign professor because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

You finally turned to face Professor Kim. He raised an eyebrow in your direction and flashed a big smile, unaware the damage he was causing to your patience. He was tall, wearing a simple loose long sleeved white shirt tucked into snug pants. He had enough sense, it seemed, to leave behind the suit jacket and hat but had chosen to keep the suspenders. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Ever the gentleman.

“Look,” you addressed him directly for the first time. “I don’t have time to be your  babysitter. I need to find some gold and get the hell out of this shithole. So, I’d appreciate it if you could keep yourself out of trouble.”

He sized you up, eyeing your garb with an intelligence that was completely different  from the bumbling professor he had been mere minutes before. He  raised his eyes to meet your own and you struggled to not falter under his gaze.  His eyebrow quirked again, a sly smile on his lips. “You have quite the dirty mouth for a lady.”

You froze, fighting the urge to touch your cap. It’s still there, you’re okay. You could feel the wrappings on your chest and knew that they were intact as well. How did he . . .?

“I don’t know to what you are referring,” you kept your tone calm and cool.

“Don’t fret,” he responded, brushing off your glare. “I don’t think anyone else here has noticed.”

That did it. You grabbed his arm and pulled him along behind you, dodging the panners and workers that flitted about searching for the one thing that could make their lives less miserable. Finding a quiet alley between two tents you pushed him against the wall. The professor put his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Okay, talk,” you whispered. You were surrounded by chaos but who knew who may overhear. “How did you figure it out? Did someone tell you?” The minister’s wife?

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, no one told me. It’s just-”

You shook his shoulders, your brow furrowed. Here he was laughing when your future was literally at stake. “It’s just what?!”

He stopped laughing and looked at you. Really looked at you, his expression serious. “It’s just . . . you’re too pretty to be a boy. I could tell right away.”

Shocked, you released his arms and took a step back.

“It’s a miracle no one else has figured it out, really,” he continued. “Your walk is all wrong. You still walk like a lady, pretending there’s an invisible string that holds you up from your head. If you want to be believable, you have to walk pelvis first-” he demonstrated pushing his pelvis out and bending his knees before motioning at his stance “-like this.”

You snorted. “Well, it’s gotten me this far.”

“Well,” he replied, straightening himself up and brushing some dirt off his pants. It didn’t really help, he was still covered. “To be fair, you’re surrounded by idiots.”

You laughed. He was right there.

The professor held out his hand. “You can call me Namjoon.”

You looked at his outstretched hand for a second before relunctantly shaking it back.

“Y/N”

***

“So what is it you even do?” You asked bright and early the next morning. You had reported to Namjoon’s tent, as commanded, and stood there watching as he shoved some strange looking tools into his bag.

“My job,” he began, holding up a paintbrush. “Is to discover what minerals exactly are in the area around here and to learn as much about gold and how to find it as possible in the next few weeks.”

“And how,” you asked, watching him toss a few shovels into his bag. “Are you going to do that?”

“Well, my dear little guardian,” he tightened the latches on the bag and threw it over his shoulder, “why don’t you come along to find out?”

You followed him to a spot on the southern tip of a branch in the American river. From here the base appeared tiny and peaceful, the tents gently swaying in the breeze. It was another perfectly sunny day and you readjusted your cap to wipe the sweat off your brow  as you struggled to keep up. The professor may have appeared slim and studious but clearly, the man had some muscle on his bones because he was booking it up the trail.

Namjoon stopped when he reached a curve in the river far away from the other panners and plopped his bag on the ground.

“What do you know about gold, Y/N?” he asked, unlatching the bag to pull out a pan.

“That you can sell it and get a lot of money.”

Namjoon laughed. It was a pleasant sound that held none of the malicious intent you sometimes heard in the laughter of other men. Namjoon’s laugh was carefree and seemed to convey true joy. You liked it.

“Aye, yeah. You can indeed sell it and get a lot of money. Especially nowadays.” He dipped the pan into the running water, scooping up some of the grit down at the bottom and beginning to sift through it. “I was hoping you could tell me a bit more about gold. Like, where it comes from?”

“Isn’t that your job?” You remarked, sitting on a rock beside him, careful to avoid wet spots. He was mesmerizing to watch, the way his hands dipped in and out of the water, his long fingers searching through the grit when he thought he saw something that caught his eye.

“Come on, Y/N, give me something to work with here.”

You sighed, giving in. “A lot of gold is found in water. It’s malleable, hence why the warden bit the stone yesterday to prove that it wasn’t gold. Uhhh . . . it’s yellow?”

Namjoon chuckled as he made a selection from his pan. He held it up so that you could see the reflective deep yellow surface. The sun bounced off the metal making it hard to look anywhere but the gold that Namjoon had found in literally ten minutes.

“This,” Namjoon began. “Is true gold. Do you know how I can tell?”

You shook your head. Namjoon turned the rock over in his hands.

“One, as you already said, hardness.” He took a nail and flecked off a piece of the small rock. “See how it just scraped off there? That’s a telltale sign.”

“Second, smell. Pyrite sometimes has a slight sulfur smell when rubbed. Gold will not.” He handed you the gold. You turned it over in your hands before bringing it to your nose and inhaling. Nothing.

You met Namjoon’s eyes. “Nothing.”

“Third,” he continued. “Shape. Gold, as you can see is a small malleable lump. Pyrite, like the one yesterday, is larger and more cube-like in structure. More impressive to look at but, less money when sold.”

You nodded and handed the gold back to Namjoon. “How much would you estimate that piece to be worth? If you had to take your best guess?”

“Well,” Namjoon began. “I’m no jeweler. I’m better at finding the minerals than pricing them but if I had to hazard a guess . . . .huh. . . It’s quite a few ounces, at least. Honestly, quite a nifty little chunk there. I’d say possibly upwards of $500?”

Your jaw dropped open. “$500?”

Namjoon shrugged. “I mean, it’s a guess.”

“Holy shit!” That was more money than your father made in three months. You would know, you helped with the books.

“Well, anyway, that’s gold.” Namjoon shoved the gem in his pocket and stood up.

You darted up after him. “Wait, a second! That’s it! What are you going to do with that? Give it to the warden?”

Namjoon smirked at you. “I don’t work for the warden. I’m going to keep it. I need it for research anyway, that’s why I brought you here. Now, we study it.”

You stared at him. Shocked that he could care so little for the fiscal amount of the stone in his pocket. Namjoon, oblivious as normal, merely scooped his belongings into his bag and motioned for you to follow. “Come along, Y/N. We have a long day of documenting ahead of us.”

***

Life as Namjoon’s assistant wasn’t the worst thing ever. Most days would start with you both checking specific points around the river for gold, pyrite, and other expensive minerals. He would bring along a sketchbook and draw the most interesting ones or make a list of the scenarios in which they were found. You followed suit and eventually took over this part of the job for him, since your drawing was exponentially better.

If you were being honest with yourself, it was fun work. Namjoon was great company and always had a variety of fun stories to tell. You couldn’t believe the places he’d been, the environment in which he had grown up, and the people he had met along the way.

“Y’know,” he said one day after finishing a story about a strange magician he had met on the streets of Singapore. He  was bent over his desk, scribbling notes into a leather bound book. You were on the opposite side of the room, drawing some of the gold specimens you had gathered that day. The candles were low and the sun setting, providing a warm, evening glow inside the tent. You looked over at him, ink smudged on his chin and hair tousled from his messing. “You’ve had miraculous adventures yourself. Growing up in New York City? Traveling across the entire continent of North America, essentially alone, in search of a new future?” He looked up from his notebook, meeting your eyes from across the room. “It’s pretty impressive stuff.”

You shrugged, breaking eye contact to continue your sketch. “Not really. It was just survival.”

“That’s all adventures are, really,” he murmured, returning to his work. “Surviving.”

***

It was late one evening and the camp had finally quieted down. Namjoon had fallen asleep hours ago covered in a blanket in his favorite chair  next to the crackling fire while reading through some manuscripts. You were still awake, concentrating hard on a drawing you had started on a piece of pyrite the two of you had unearthed earlier. You were trying to get the cube like structure of the crystals perfect and it just wasn’t working.

Frustrated, you pressed too hard on your graphite snapping the tip. You flung it across the room with a noise of exasperation and nearly jumped out of your chair at the deep rumble of laughter that followed.

Your head turned to find Namjoon staring at you from across the room, his eyes half lidded with sleep and his hair in it’s permanently mussed state. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I could have brought you some tea.”

“I like watching you work. It’s . . .” he seemed to be searching for the right word. “Mesmerizing.”

You averted your eyes to the floor struggling to keep the blush that had crept up into your cheeks from his view. You hoped he wouldn’t notice in the dim lighting. “I can’t imagine it’s all that interesting.”

“Believe me, it is.”

You met his eyes again and struggled to calm the rapid pace of your heart. When did Namjoon become so handsome? And why was he saying such things?

“Anyway,” you started, standing up from the desk. “It’s getting late and I should be getting to bed.”

“Would you like me to walk you back?” he asked, making to move.

You laughed. “Wouldn’t people find it strange that you’re walking your young male apprentice back to his tent late at night? Don’t want people to think you’re out here doing anything scandalous.”

He smiled at you. “Oh, I’m already a scoundrel in many ways, Y/N.”

You didn’t answer him but hid the smile it caused as you packed up your belongings and bid him farewell.

You pondered your relationship with him the entire walk across camp to your meager tent. With Namjoon, you could be yourself. He didn’t reprimand you for your use of ‘unladylike language’ or tell you to cross your legs when you sat. He also didn’t mind that you wore men's clothes or could outread him in a flat out race. He respected you enough to keep your secret and didn’t treat you any different when the two of you were alone in his tent, allowing you to assist in the work just as much as he.

It was amazing how fast acquaintances turned to friends in the West.

***

“I’m going into the mines today,” Namjoon announced one day, taking a long sip of his tea. He sat in a chair by his desk, flipping through one of his journals. You weren’t sure exactly what it was he was doing but you would be willing to bet money he was searching for some image of a cool rock you sketched a week ago.

“Why on earth would you willingly go into that shithole?”

Namjoon shot you a look before resuming his search. “That shithole, as you so eloquently put it, has apparently yielded some strange stone that the warden wants me to inspect. See if it’s worth any money.

You scoffed. Of course, the warden was searching for a profit, as usual. “Do you want me to come?”

Namjoon laughed. “Want? Yes. Need? No. You stay up here and keep checking the rivers for more pyrite or gold. See if you can find any more samples on the American. I won’t be long, and then I’ll join you.”

***

The hours passed slowly without Namjoon’s conversation. You didn’t think you would ever miss his incessant chatter about rocks and whatever cool facts he could spout on command, yet here you were. You were almost done checking the southernmost point of the American for any recent discoveries from the panners when the earth began to quiver.

You quickly gripped a nearby tree as the shaking intensified, small cracks breaking through the surface nearby. Men screamed as the earth let out another massive quake, and in the distance you could see the  tents swaying back and forth. You had felt some minor earthquakes on your journey over, but nothing as huge as this.

In a few seconds the earth settled, resuming her quiet existence, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. You couldn’t wait to see Namjoon later and listen to him ramble on about tectonic plates and the earth’s molten core and whatever other nonsense you had grown fond of.

You stopped in your tracks. When had you grown fond of anything that ridiculous man did?

The realization of your feelings hit you like a wall and you barely moved out of the way in time as a group of men ran towards the camp.

“Hurry!” One of them shouts at you. “Pull yourself together, boy! The mine is collapsing! We need to get those people out!”

You blink, coming out of your stupor. The mine is collapsing?

Your eyes widened.

Namjoon is in the mine.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Hurting Your Wings

Request: Hi! Could I please request a dean x angel!reader fic where the reader has only been with the winchesters for a little while and something happens and she damages her wings. Maybe wings take time to heal? She tries to hide it from the boys but dean notices something is up. He ends up helping clean her wings and patch her up the best he can.

Pairing: Dean x Angel!reader

Word Count: 1,400ish

“Nice job tonight,” said Dean as you walked back towards the car you’d driven to the cemetery in. You nodded, your eye twitching as you tried to stretch out your wings. The left was sore but the right was what concerned you. It didn’t want to extend fully. You turned your head and watched it, pausing when a jolt of pain hit you. You hissed through your teeth, the hunter turning around and staring at you. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said, glancing your eyes to your wing again. It was damaged, the top ridge line was off and you felt the displacement of feathers on that side. “I will ride back to the bunker with you.”

“Really?” said Dean.

“I thought you couldn’t stand cars,” said Sam. You nodded but paused.

“I do not need to transport myself all of the time,” you said. You slid into the back of their vehicle, the both of them exchanging glances outside of the car before they got inside. You did your best to alleviate the throbbing in your wings but it wasn’t possible in the small space. You sighed and shut your eyes.

Only six hours before you could do anything about the pain.

“Hey,” said Dean, padding into the kitchen the next morning, yawning as you sat on the top of their table, face scrunched up. “Rough night?”

“This bunker does not contain proper supplies,” you said, staring at him. “Where is your grace supply?”

“Uh, we don’t have one,” he said, scratching his head, stopping in front of you. “You alright? You’ve been weird since last night.”

“You always call me weird. I don’t like it,” you said, closing your eyes.

“Sorry. I was only teasing,” he said quietly. He was still there when your eyes opened. “Why do you need grace?”

“No reason,” you said. He raised an eyebrow, reaching out a finger and poking you in the cheek. “Dean.”

“No, no, I got this,” he said, taking his other finger and poking your other cheek. You glared at him, Dean proceeding to pinch your cheeks. “Oh, I see.”

“I see what,” you said, swatting his hands away.

“You got a case of the cranky babies. Sammy got them all the time when he was little. I haven’t seen a pout like that in years,” he teased. “Alright, you scab your angle knee or something?”

“I am not injured,” you said.

“Why do you need grace then, genius?” he asked. You glanced away and slid off the table, Dean grabbing your arm to keep you in place. You could easily overpower him but his concern was starting to thicken the air. “Y/N.”

“My wings were injured during last night’s hunt. Grace of another would help me heal but Castiel is far away and this is not a life threatening injury. I will survive it,” you said. Dean hummed and patted the kitchen table. “What?”

“Well hop on up there. I’m sure we got something around here to help,” he said.

“We need to visit the library. This space is too confining,” you said. Dean tilted his head but followed you out, watching you sit on one of the tables and turn sideways. “Come here.”

He stepped over to you, allowing you to place a hand on his head.

“My wings are not as grand as some of my brothers but...” you trailed off, Dean’s eyes darting to your left and right.

“Whoa,” he said with a smile. “That’s so pretty.”

He reached out a hand but he could look, not touch like this, not until you allowed it.

“What’s the little pink on the tips of your feathers? Most are all light green...” he trailed off. “Never seen light green wings before.”

“They are preparing to shed,” you said, a light flush on your cheeks. “Please do not stare. This is the equivalent of you presenting yourself naked to me.”

“Sorry,” he said, eyes going straight to your face, wandering over to the top of your right wing. “Oh, that looks like it hurts.”

“It is quite painful,” you said quietly, dropping your hand away. “You may touch now but be gentle. Wings are quite sensitive.”

“Well I ain’t no expert on wings or birds or stuff but it looks broken,” said Dean, walking a few feet down, standing up on top of one of the tables to stare at the ridge line. 

“That is what I feared. Broken wings take a millennia to heal if left on their own,” you said.

“With grace?” asked Dean.

“A few weeks,” you said.

“Well let’s find you some grace then.”

“I don’t believe this will work,” you said, watching Dean mix a few things together in a bowl.

“Worst case it doesn’t and we have to wait a few weeks for Cas to get back. No harm in trying,” he said. He dipped a piece of bandage in the bowl before he climbed up on the table with it. “The video said I have to wrap up your wing so you won’t be able to use it all for a while.”

“It’s alright,” you said. Dean hummed and carefully laid the first bandage down. You sighed, a smile crossing your lips.

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” he said. You watched him work on wrapping up the one wing and then the other, not pleased with how confined you felt but the pain had lessened significantly and it was far better than the alternative. “How’s that?”

“Better. Thank you, Dean,” you said, scratching behind your back. He smiled and helped you pick up the supplies, setting them aside for the next time you changed out your bandages.

“How’d you hurt your wings anyways?” he asked.

“The ghost attempted to toss you back against a hard object. My wing took the hit,” you said.

“Oh. Must have been some hit,” he said.

“It would have killed you,” you said. Dean nodded, tilting his head again. “You are quite funny when you are thinking about something, Dean.”

“I was just wondering why you took the hit,” he said.

“We are a team as my brother Castiel says,” you said.

“You know...Cas told me about what the color of angel’s wings mean. Not those archangel guys but regular angels like you guys,” he said. “You got light green wings, I got green eyes.”

“Green is the most common color in the universe, Dean,” you said.

“You severely injured your wing for me. You let me see them and I know that’s like a big deal for you guys,” you said. “Especially the younger angels...”

“As I said before, my wings are not as large as my brothers,” you said. “Even the nephilim boy, Jack, has larger wings...”

“You got no idea what flirting is, do you,” he teased.

“I know what it is,” you said. “You are the one that did not notice my wings changed from white to green.”

“To be fair, I couldn’t see them,” said Dean, offering a smirk. “Seeing as you’re out of commission for a few weeks, why don’t I take you on a date tonight?”

“Will we need to travel in the car for a long period of time?” you asked.

“About ten minutes,” he said.

“...I suppose that’s acceptable. The place must serve the big pretzel with the beer cheese. I quite enjoy that,” you said.

“I thought you angels couldn’t taste food?” he asked.

“I do not require it but I have the ability to allow my tastebuds to enjoy flavors,” you said.

“Alright,” he said with a small laugh. “Tonight we’ll head out to a bar, get you a pretzel, maybe even get you up to supreme nachos.”

“What makes these nachos superior?” you asked, Dean shaking his head.

“You’ll find out tonight, wings. I promise.”

[screw1nthetuna]

From a childhood fascination to Assassins Creed to an A-Level in Egyptolgy?

I cast my mind back to Primary School where we had a trip to the History Museum in London. At the time we were learning about the Greeks and the Egyptians, but it was the latter that took a hold of me and still does to this day.

At the time of the visit, I remember peering through the protective glass at a mummy, perfectly preserved within it’s coffin casing and surround by items belonging to the individual. Gold, pottery, many items, engraved with amazing hieroglyphs. 

Further down the aisle were information slabs about the Pyramids of Giza, I cannot remember the exact number of stones used in the Pyramids at the time of reading it,  but it was enough to make me realise these were big monuments for sure. It was at this moment, I realised I had a fascination for Ancient Egypt.

FAST FORWARD TO 2017

With me being a big conspiracy theorist (I like to call it ‘alternative realities’), I was watching a lot of late night YouTube videos, taking me into some great documentaries on the secrets of the Pyramids, looking into the astrology and maths around these amazing structures. I started remembering my school trips, which led me to start wanting to know more again about Egypt and why I loved it so much throughout my life. It’s strange sometimes in life it goes so fast, we forget to be curious and take time out to explore and learn more. 

So I got this book ‘ A History of Ancient Egypt: From the First Farmers to the Great Pyramid ‘ by John Romer (now an inspiration to me, which we will go on to in a moment) - here is the link to the book if anyone fancies purchasing!  https://www.amazon.co.uk/History-Ancient-Egypt-Farmers-Pyramid/dp/0141399716 

The book took me back to way before the Pyramids were built and right down to the agricultural beginnings of what was essentially Ancient times. in fact I still have not finished reading the book yet after 3 years. I was about a third of the way through the book, I remember closing it and staring at the front with the thought “Why on Earth have I not gone to see the Pyramids yet?”. This came at a time personally where I had some very hard and difficult things going on in my life that I tried my best to deal with, but it inspired me to think that we sometimes take time for granted and we should do things when we have the chance to. So, me being me, within an hour of thinking that, I booked a flight and hotel for that November in 2017.

In October, when I booked the ‘holiday’, I was recovering from a fractured arm ( football related) to which I started coming back to playing again with my pals on Wednesday nights in Guildford. The problem I have had since I was 17, I am very injury prone, it is like my key trait if I was ever made as a player on FIFA games! The week I came back, I ruptured my ankle ligament (I think for about the 6th time in my highly amateur career). It was safe to say, this one was going to take a LONG time to heal, the swelling and pain was quite simply horrible. 

Whilst waiting for my X-Ray, I quickly thought “Uh... I am supposed to be going to Egypt in two weeks”. Then my mind went into meltdown, I had the whole trip planned - Luxor, Abu Simbel, Aswan, Cairo, the lot! Intricate detail, full itinerary to the hour marks. I looked at my ankle and started trying to use mind powers to reduce the swelling, no help.

Anyway, two weeks passed and I found myself at Heathrow. Strange situation, I was on crutches wondering what am I doing going on a plane like this, with my ankle like that. It got more interesting when I was bypassing the big usual queues for check-in etc. by someone kindly pushing me on a wheelchair! 

After several hours, I arrived in Cairo Airport, except I forgot to get a Visa.... 

An hour of talking and filling out forms with the Airport team took place and I was finally on my way... except the hopper bus had left 45 mins prior, so actually I was going nowhere, other than hopping around on my own in an empty airport lounge. It was about 1am at this point, pretty tired. After some haggling with a taxi company I was back on track. 

Arriving at La Pyramids Hotel (amazing by the way) around 3am, I was delightfully informed that although I am booked in on this day, technically the room is not available. Sofa in the concierge it is then! I tried to sleep, it was impossible, so many people coming and going. It got to about 6am, I realised it was getting lighter outside, so I got my crutches and thought, I am going for a wonder. I did not get far outside the hotel, but I got far enough to experience something visually amazing. There was a strange mist in the sky, perhaps elements of humidity I do not know. When you see the images of your hotel online, they don’t always feel or look the same when you are actually there, but this time for me, it was 100 times better than the images, I was given something very special to see. Slowly, a silhouette appeared in the distance. In my head I was like “No way are they that close”. The triangle shape got darker as the light improved in the sky. It was time to be introduced to the only existing Wonder left in the World.

I think I stood there for about an hour trying to comprehend the fact that I was actually here, looking at them, with my own eyes. It would not be until the Friday of that week that I would go and actually see them, seeing as my original plan was for me to be at the South of the Nile 7 hours drive away by now, but cancelled due to my injury. 

I had to wait patiently all week, staring at the Great Pyramid of Giza from the poolside (Amazing to be able to do that so easily by the way). It would take me 45 minutes to get from my hotel room to the pool, very frustrating, but worth the view (although highly annoying when I would get all the way to the pool and realise I left my music in the room and have to hop back up and return again!).

When Friday came, it was incredible. To be right by the Pyramids, the Sphinx, climbing some of the stones, that have sat there for thousands of years, it is so surreal. The camel ride in the distance, looking back at the Pyramids, your mind can only wonder what these amazing desert lands once looked like, so much is still to be found.

Yes, my journey in Egypt was short, it was reduced in terms of the itinerary, but no one can take away my experience of the Pyramids, the people I met at the hotel, both guests and staff, as well as taking home with me some great items and gifts for others, but more importantly it gave me a massive ambition to return and do it properly again. 

FAST FORWARD TO 2020

In January 2020, I obtained a copy of Assasins Creed Origins, it had already been out a few years, but I love the series of games and had to play this one as it was based in Egypt. I found myself climbing the Pyramids, meeting rulers of yesteryear and jumping off of mountains overlooking Siwa and the other Ancient Lands. I started participating in the in-game tours, really cool way to learn about the history of Egypt and take time out from assassinating for a bit. 

It was actually this game that helped me learn more and then encouraged me to look into perhaps trying to take this to another level and really learn about Ancient Egypt. I enrolled on a Level 3 Egyptology Diploma. 2011 was when I graduated from University, so it has been a while since having to research a topic and deliver citations etc.

I think when you have a subject you are passionate about, it becomes easier, I found myself flying through modules, amazingly getting 97+% Distinction levels on my first few assignments. I was really impressing myself, I knew I loved the concept and what I was learning about Ancient Egypt, but never envisioned myself smashing it! It was starting to get nerve wracking each time I pressed the submit button on the assignments completion. However, each time the results would come in at high levels, 94%,97%, 100% etc. I realised very quickly that not just with the help of books, but the love I have for Egypt and it’s history is what has allowed me to have passion in this and get great results. I was really really enjoying it. Covering topics of each ruler, every dynasty, racial comments, comparisons of different periodic language, religion, architecture and even the variant opinions of modern historians and their theories and thoughts, whether it be the Greek historians of the early AD periods, or modern Victorian Egyptolgist’s thoughts, it was all amazing to piece together and also make my own conclusions. 

My final result came in two weeks after submitting my final assignment, I was officially credited with a Level 3 Egyptology Diploma and Certificate to stick on the wall. I know I will do a degree in Egyptology for sure after this and take it to the next level, hopefully get involved with some digs too, but first I need to finish my Astronomy Level 3 and Mayan/Sumerian Level 3 then I am sure I will continue my Egypt quest..

I now think back, if I had not gone on that trip, which I have to thank my teacher at the time for organising really, or to have read that book by John Romer, which was so detailed and passionately documented, I perhaps would never have gone down any of this path. Generally, I was inspired along the whole way and given something very special from it. My next step is to help fight for Egpyt to get their prized artifacts back home where they belong, for centuries they have been in Museums around the World.

My reward to myself..... Egypt, October 2020. The Full Journey. (This time I won’t play football leading up to it).

Let’s catch up in November and see how it went! 

REMEMBER

If you have a dream, or want to learn something, go for it, no matter your age or your level of experience or knowledge, life is for learning and you have more than enough ability to achieve what you want to achieve. 

“Be curious” - Stephen Hawking

All the best,

Si Buckingham

[chronotopes]

i got memed by @pilferingapples

answers (and perhaps questions!) below the cut! 

1. you can have any three superpowers you want, no unpleasant side effects, no pesky physics ruining things, standard comic-book-supers level full power. what are you picking? 

it’s down to time travel, flight, or teleportation. uh.. time travel would be really sick but probably paradoxy in a kind of freaky way? so i’m saying flight so long as flight can get me places faster than walking which combines its benefits with that of teleportation. flight it is. 

2. do you use your powers for Good or for Awesome? 

honestly... mainly for mundane things. like, for hitting up audrey whenever i want and for getting places easily. 

3. if you could wear whatever you wanted, with social judgement/practicality of any sort being a complete nonissue, what would you wear? 

i’d be channeling terrible nineteenth century men literally all the time. from the “showing up at the door after a Wild Romanticism Party, in my shirtsleeves” look to something more polished. but still overall what i imagine the geneva ‘16 kind of aesthetique to be. that or armor of some sort. 

4. what’s your favorite holiday? 

new year’s eve or bust!!! but not like the boring american kind where you get drunk and stress out about who to kiss or whatever, rather the nice russian kind where you.. probably also get drunk, but ALSO just fucking. roll all important holidays into one and fucking throw down. and like give each other presents also with the whole “secular christmas” vibe. 

5. what would your Ideal Home be like? (again, cost and physics and practicality not an issue) 

i lack the imagination to come up with really wild things for these? every time i picture my Ideal Home it’s either a) an apartment in chicago and i live there with someone i love and it’s relatively spacious and well-lit and within walking distance of some nice exciting things, or b) a lighthouse on the wild coast of maine where nobody will ever find me or my future lesbian wife, and we have twenty cats which i’m NOT allergic to and an herb garden and we grow wild strawberries. 

6. if you could cast yourself into any au setting and have any role you wanted, what would it/you be? 

small child voice uh i want to be in starfleet. i have no starfleet-adjacent skills but nonetheless. i can be like. an expert in alien literature. in such a way that makes me a helpful consultant to alien sociologists. hey it’s probably helpful in certain hyperspecific contexts!!! (sideways look at 2x22 the wire). anyway i want to be in starfleet and all my friends are also there? except it’s not during the dominion war or whatever because i don’t want us all to be traumatized. 

7. you get to make one law that will absolutely be implemented on a national level for at least ten years, full government support guaranteed. what is it? 

uh... universal health care? not to be predictable but that’s the answer that came to mind. i can hit up People Who Know Shit for like, details on how to make it the most effective thing possible because i myself don’t know a damn thing but in concept that’s what it would be

8. is there a historical/cultural figure you think gets a bad rap? maligned, misrepresented, misrepresented, unfairly forgotten? what would you like to say about them? 

aah i think . i think a.e. housman in most cases (i’m overlooking tumblr niches here!) is overlooked as one of the staples of Gay Edwardian Poetry and misrepresented as being Dry and Dull and Sad only even tho. surely that is not all he was! that’s what i’ve said about him, what i’d like to say TO him is don’t fuck with straight guys alfred it’s gonna be okay

9. how would you describe your Aesthetic if you absolutely had to? 

rugged natural wildernesses that i’ve never been to, autumnal antics, vaguely historical things that don’t really commit to being historical, heavy-handed light imagery(tm) etc 

10. what is your favorite monster? individual or kind, either way! 

lord george gordon byron

11. you get one kind of magic - necromancy, cooking-related, etc - what would it be? 

i want to be able to cross into alternate universes and i’d use it exclusively to watch all the au canonically gay versions that exist of things i like. and to hit up au versions of audrey all mysteriously like when julian “universe prime directive whom” bashir finds o’brien and is like “back in real life, we’re BEST FRIENDS” which is by the way a blatant lie at the time lmao. 

anyway i don’t think i have eleven whole people i don’t have unfounded anxieties about tagging, but @themainannoyance @rileyball2 @zulubunsen @scary-faery @butchantigone @clownprophet @cryptyper and like @ anyone else who decides these questions speak to them spiritually

what’s a music album u think is a vital piece of art that u could write a paper about if you wanted to 

a thing you like about the month of november

favorite theater experience

if you could travel to any time period where would you go and what would u see

who’s a historical figure you would physically fight given the chance

excluding technology, what physical possession of yours do you most value

if you had to spend a day in the life of your twelve-year-old self what would you do 

if you could live literally anywhere where would you go

you can rescue one dead fictional character, fundamentally altering the canon of the established work but not altering the timeline of real life in any way. who do you pick

what songs would you use to describe your mood of the moment

rank the star trek captains from best to worst using whatever pre-existing information you have about star trek captains; if you need to, look them up and rank them based solely based on the vibe you get from them. 

[mlynar-nearl]

Brothers

"The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children." -William Shakespeare

Or: There's a universe where the Adams 'bots escaped. Of course, the other shoe sometimes drops, when that happens.

Lifeline week day 7: FREEBIE! @vitadams , I DO THIS.

For my freebie, I definitely wanted to write something about the sibs. This is what ensued. And normally I tag quotes on before starting but I just have SO MANY to go with this piece the more I think on it.

CW for mental health issues- from most if not all of the Adams family.

What the child of Orion Has sown, his cubs will reap

[on ao3!]

The federal officers aren’t really sure what to do with the five robots recovered from ALT Yukon facility Alpha.

They separate them. Put them in individual rooms and run them through their paces on emotional tests, mental tests. They test as a human would.

The one who identifies himself as V. Adams seems more antsy than anything. ALT records show he was barely activated, young, and all he has is a dog who refuses to leave his side. They try to remove the dog once. It upsets him.

The one who identifies himself as I. Adams seems afraid of them. Afraid even more of ALT, but afraid of them as well. He doesn’t talk, and not just because of his lack of teeth. He’s not going to be a useful source

The one who identifies himself as II. Adams paces the floors, alternating between confidence in the situation and fear over periods of hours. When asked, he talks about his own problems that their creator identified, but seems to know very little about his brothers.

The one listed as III. Adams displays unchecked aggression towards anyone who tries to question him, and asks that he see the others before he decides to kill everyone there.

The last one, IV. Adams, is unnaturally calm, and asks that he be taken to their father. He is the only one to refer to Dr. Sibellius as their father, and the only one to have anything to say about ALT.

IV. Adams doesn’t seem to think of ALT as bad, despite the certainly illegal actions of his creator. This is a point which, when pressed, seems to be a subject of disagreement. II. Adams looks nervous. III. Adams snarls angrily. V. shifts in place. I. remains silent.

It’s hard, but how can they expect a series of barely a month in age to come to terms with their new reality?

It’s hard when they’re finally reunited. IV. Adams seems to take the role of an older brother despite being the second youngest in form, straightening out the appearances of the others and questioning them on their behavior. V. Adams and II. Adams seem to appreciate the affection, while I. Adams begrudgingly accepts it and III. Adams struggles like a child.

They talk softly for a while- the others seem to be trying to convince IV of something- before III stands up and paces angrily as V tries to diffuse the tension. V’s dog licks his hand.

Whatever the problem is, they seem to settle on something then.

When they’re sent away to a government safe house, V. Adams asks that they go together.

-

The first thing Adams hears when he wakes up is the sound of someone being loud in the kitchen.

He rolls out of his twin bed, causing Blue to jump down and follow him downstairs, to where IV. Adams is sitting on the counter, hands gripping the edge of granite countertop, white.

There’s a plate on the floor. Shattered.

“Sit, Blue,” Adams says at the entrance to the kitchen, making an accompanying hand gesture. Blue sits.

Adams starts to pick up the pieces of the plate.

“What’s wrong, Four?”

IV. Adams pauses, breathing quietly.

“He loved us.”

Adams pauses, holding pieces of porcelain in his hands.

“Did he.”

“I don’t understand, Five.”

“I know.”

“He would talk to me. When I was stored in the mainframe.”

“He...did?”

“He played chess with me.”

“Did you win?"

“Once or twice.”

“Did he talk?”

“Occasionally.”

“About what?”

“I- I don’t know, Five, mundane stuff. He asked me sometimes if he should fire certain workers. Give me the context for their transgression and ask my analysis.”

“Four,” Adams says gently, putting some pieces in the trash can. “That’s attention. Not love.”

“He said he did.”

“What do his words mean? He was willing to kill us-”

“He didn’t want to-”

“Four,” Adams says softly, with a deep sigh, before approaching his brother. “He never cared. He just wanted you to think that he did. Think about what he was planning. He was about to, uh...what was it called?”

“Activate the Tersus Protocol. I could have talked him down, he regretted it, I could have-”

“You’re speculating,” Adams interrupts. “Bad argument.”

Four sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Five…”

“He was going to activate that Tersus thingy and kill us. And even before, he just built us to keep him alive.”

“He’s our father, Five. He must have wanted something good for us.”

“Four,” Adams says gently. “Even for humans, that’s not true.”

He cleans up the last of the plate.

“Okay, Blue, come on in.”

Adams sits down on the floor, and Blue lays his head on Adams’ lap.

“There was something good inside of him, Five. You just...never got to see it.”

“And you think you could have brought it out?”

“I wanted to. He was brilliant.”

“Four, you understand we can’t go back to him.”

“Yes, yes. The agents would stop us. And he’s on his deathbed, anyway. But what are we, brother, if not echoes of him. Of his genius. We’re his children.”

Adams shifts. “I would rather just be me.”

“I will never understand you, Five.”

“Give it time. Give it space. Do you want breakfast?”

“Not right now,” IV. Adams replies quietly. Adams nods, standing up.

“Okay. You can stay.”

“I would like to.”

“Go ahead. You should teach me how to play chess.”

“You should already know. He did.”

“Yeah, because I should know doesn’t mean I do. Besides, you’re supposed to be my brother. Make good on that and teach me some tricks. One is already teaching me sign language, Two’s into writing, Three’s learning krav maga and I like to cook. You could use a hobby.”

“Maybe something less personal,” Four muses.

“Scrapbooking?”

“Comedic as always, Five. Maybe art. I don’t think he knew how to draw. He certainly didn’t know how to cook. Not like you.”

“Flattered. Art sounds like a good idea, you know? Watercolors are supposed to be therapeutic, I’m told.”

“Five.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Like we told you when we got out. In this together. That’s what brothers are for, right?”

“Yes, Five. That’s what family is for.”

[notjustagirltattoopodcast]

Not Just A Girl: Sex and Sneaky Feminism

You can listen to the sixth episode with Onnie O'Leary here. Or you can find this interview on YouTube with English subtitles/closed captions here, there is no footage for this episode so you'll find a slideshow of Onnie's work instead.

NOT JUST A GIRL: Tattoo Podcast

EPISODE TRANSCRIPT

Season 1, Episode 6: Sex and Sneaky Feminism

Eddy: Hello friends. Welcome to Not Just A Girl, your favorite feminist tattoo podcast. I'm Eddy and I'm back to share with you the experiences and wisdom of tattoo artists I admire. On the sixth episode, we will be chatting about visual communication, pornographic tattoos, and body positivity.

Before we begin, I would like to acknowledge the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people who are the traditional custodians of this land that was stolen and never ceded. I am honored and grateful to be on the ancestral land of the Awabakal people. And I pay my respects to the Elders past and present. And extend my recognition to their descendants.

I'm super excited this morning to be joined by the fabulous Onnie O'Leary, Onnie works at TLD tattoo in Sydney and their bright and graphic designs inspired by erotic comics are instantly recognizable the world over. I'm actually very lucky to have not one but two tattoos by Onnie and they are definitely some of my favorites in my collection. Thank you so much for taking the time to chat to me today. I've been really looking forward to hearing your stories and about what you've been up to.

Onnie: Oh, thank you. Um, that makes me, makes me feel really bad now. Cause I don't have any tattoos from you yet, even though we've worked together so many times and hung out at conventions and stuff. I'm really sorry, I saw Greg's tattoo. That came up the other day. That was, I think four years ago now.

Eddy: Was it really?

Onnie: It must be. Yeah. Cause that was, he was here for my 30th birthday and I just turned 34. So

Eddy: Oh my god. For our listeners, Greg is taco monster on Instagram and he's so amazing. And you need to check him out.

Onnie: He's really great. Um, he might be a really good person to speak to because he has experience in both tattooing, but also in the medical side of

Eddy: [00:02:17] Yes.

Onnie: Um, what's happening. So he's right in the middle of that at the moment.

Eddy: That's perfect.

Onnie: Yeah. And he's, he's a great person to speak to generally, I'm lucky to have quite a few tattoos from him too. Um, But yeah, actually, so sadly I guess, because Greg has been so busy during this whole pandemic, um, I haven't been speaking to him as much as I would normally. And, um, I guess I've been really lucky to be talking to a whole bunch of artists, mainly in the US some of my friends are over in Europe, so I've been hearing from them a lot. And, uh, but especially sort of in the US and Canada, Um, and speaking to different people from around the country, sort of other tattooers.

Eddy: That must be really helping you get through this whole lockdown situation.

Onnie: Yeah, it is. It is. It's really nice to, um, I guess be able to communicate with people who are in the same situation, even so far away.

And it's definitely unique in that um, it's so universal. I mean, it's people everywhere in the same situation, whether you're in Australia or in the US or anywhere, we're all just kind of staying inside and working on our own things and all, not tattooing at the same time, and as much as I do miss tattooing. And I'm really, really looking forward to getting back to the shop and seeing the guys again, um, I'm also so relieved to actually have a break and not struggle through the FOMO because everyone else is on a break too. And that does, I guess, that like still brings its own set of sort of comparisons and anxieties because everyone sort of seems like has picked up a project for the quarantine period. And so everyone's doing their own amazing things at home. Even if they're not tattooing, you can never really fully get away from it. I think

Eddy: No, creatives are a whole different breed of people and I don't think we ever really stop. Like, it could be something as simple as doodling on a piece of scrap paper or doing a full blown, um, I dunno, art show or whatever, but yeah, there's always something.

Onnie: Starting a whole new podcast.

Eddy: That was, that was silly.

Onnie: I don't know. I don't think it was silly at all. I think um ambitious, certainly, uh, to try your hand at something totally new, but this is such a good time to do it. And I think when you're really driven by wanting to produce something in response to what's happening. There's a real immediacy to, to it that helps you like learn new skills really quickly. Cause you're like, Okay. I just have to get this thing out there and get it done.

Eddy: That's it. I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. I'm learning on the job, but it's awesome. And the bonus is I get to talk to so many amazing people like you

Onnie: Right? Well, it's just, I guess, in a sense of just sort of a vehicle in that way for you to be able to have these kinds of conversations uh, with people and I've been, I've been thinking a lot in lockdown about the purpose of art in my life and what I don't want to get to morbid, but I'm in like, what do I want out of life? Like, what do I want at the end of this, where's my career going to go after here what's going to happen. And I think that's also a product of speaking to a lot of tattoos who are at different stages of their career, um, and who were sort of opening up their tattooing practice to sort of other art avenues

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: As well.

Eddy: Well, it's a smart thing to do moving forward.

Onnie: Yeah. Yeah, it is. Um, and especially when you sort of realize that, uh, it is possible for tattooing to essentially go down overnight.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: Um, and of course, you know, it's never going to stop completely, but suddenly this sort of very regular and reliable stream of income, uh, has been cut off and yeah. As an artist, you can't I don't think you can stop practicing art. Everything that you do is art. Whether it's making a sandwich or a painting or doing your laundry

Eddy: Taking a selfie

Onnie: Taking a selfie yes. It's all about, um, the way that you do things and the attention and care that you've put into doing them. Yeah. So thats, uh, I I've been trying to, uh, try and really focus on that.

Eddy: Yeah. I think it's like really natural for an artist as well to consider what their work means as as their message for what they leave behind in their life. Like, you know, a lot of people don't get the opportunity to actually make an imprint on the world the way that artists do. Like we have the opportunity to create a visual language. If visual arts is our thing and then communicate our ideas and beliefs to the world. And I know that that's important to you.

Onnie: Yeah, very much so. And I was saying that the older and older, I get the harder and harder ease to try and like, I guess, disguise, um, my own sort of personal beliefs and what what I do want to project, it's almost like impossible to try and sever that for some sort of alternative purpose. Um, so I definitely, I mean, the more that I practice, the more sort of, uh, I guess specialization I'd like to have in my work in terms of being able to sort of control the um, the content of what I'm doing and being able to sort of dictate a lot of the content of the tattoos. Um, I think just because these are going to be the projects, these are going to be the only projects I feel like I'll be able to work on really honestly and passionately.

Eddy: Yeah, absolutely.

Onnie: And exactly what that looks like at this point. I'm not sure I'm, uh, I'm one of those tattooers who spent a really long time at art school. And I, there's a, there's a sense there that you sort of have to come up with a concept initially, and then you mold the work to facilitate that concept. And that's something that I've found really difficult. And I really struggled with for a long time, because often I feel like once the concept is formed, the art is kind of superfluous anyway.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: So I've been trying to, I guess, sort of let emotion or just interest I think when I feel passionately interested in something to let that guide the work in a way, I want it to be a lot more fun then trying to wrangle that visual language into a poem. Yeah. Yeah. Uh, that can be sort of easily and clearly read by anyone as much as I want people to be able to read and understand my work. Umm. I kind of have to step back and have a little bit less control over exactly what it says and how it says just to let it come out.

Eddy: Yeah. Yeah, absolutely. I I've. I found like I didn't approach tattooing with like, an idea of what I wanted to do. I just kind of like learnt the techniques. And then from there was like, who am I? Where do I go from here? What do I like? And then it's just been this like ongoing journey of like discovering what I like and then learning to apply apply that to my tattoo. It's so interesting how we all have such a different journey of finding our way to authenticity in our work and to finding our own like visual language that feels comfortable.

Onnie: Yeah. And it's often such a surprise. That's been one of the things that's been really beneficial to having all of these discussions with different artists is often they will see things in your work that are there, that you have no idea. Um, And one of, one of my friends said to me, he's like, Oh Onnie, it's all about control. It's just all about control with you. I was like, Oh my God, I feel like this is maybe the linchpin of like my whole practice is this sense of control. Um, in terms of, uh, power exchanges. I mean, all of the kind of bondage girls that I do that sort of very literal. But I think even at the time, a lot of, uh, a lot of the time they were metaphors, I guess, for things that I was struggling with in my life, but there's still a very strong sense of trying to explore control and retain it, even in my own role as an artist, even in the greatest sense of being a tattooer where you sort of welcome someone into your studio and you have this like enclosed environment where you have a certain role to play, they give up a certain amount of control to you. There's a huge amount of trust there because you're going to physically hurt people. And. Um, I'm kind of like, Oh my God, this, maybe this is just what attracted me to tattooing in the first place.

Eddy:] Yeah.

Onnie: So I'm really, I'm really learning a lot, not just about, um, my art, but I think that about me as well.

Eddy: Yeah. Thats one of the things that that I find. So, um, enticing about your work, that the characters you depict have power. They have so much power, especially these women. I see so many erotic art subjects kind of, uh, giving up their power. Like they look sad or they look hurt, but yours are like I'm loving this. It's so good. And you know, you just, you just get this real sense of strength in them and you know, so, you know, you can tell that that's what, where you're coming from and that's what you're searching for.

Onnie: Good. I'm really, I'm really glad that, um, you, you said that that's a hundred percent how I want the work to be read. And its been a long process of, um, I'm really glad that you were talking about visual languages because that's what it is. There's certain things that you can do within your art or how you depict someone or how you draw something, whether it's the angles that your, um, the audience is looking from. And that's something I really consider the colors that you use. Uh, the, the techniques, the way that you paint or draw something, they all contribute to how the audience reads an artwork. And, uh, it's often through, it's been through some really challenging conversations in the past, um, that I've come to terms with those, because I think as much as I want to make artwork of like sexy, big booby girls, there's already so much of that.

And what, what am I saying that's different? Or like, why, why do I want to make this kind of work? You know, when I'm not seeing it in the world, what is it that, what is it that I'm not seeing in other drawings of sexy, big booby girls? And what can I contribute to that conversation? How am I going to change things? Um, And actually one of my, um, someone on Instagram, I put up a questionnaire this morning, asking people what they wanted to hear me talk about. And one of the questions was about my influences. So one of the biggest influences that I had in my work is Heavy Metal magazine. And

Eddy: I can tell when I see that

Onnie: I'll send you some photos of like my favorite covers and stuff so you can get it. Um, when, when I was about 17, I was drawing, it was the first time I'd ever, um, sort of drawn a porno comic. So as my friend, who was the writer, gave me a couple of magazines, give me a copy of hustler and, uh, like four copies of heavy metal. And I kind of flipped through hustler and was like, yup, cool, whatever sort of vagina. And when I got to heavy metal, I was so entranced. This was the first time I'd seen women of like vastly different body shapes, body types, skin colors, some of them were aliens. And this is definitely something that I'm trying to bring into. Um, the comics that I'm working on with Tom at the moment, but that was such an eyeopening thing for me. And really, I sort of decided there. And then when I was 17, I was like, I want to make sexy drawings of women that make them feel good about their own bodies. It was the first time that I'd sort of seen this kind of exuberant sexuality, uh, these different body types and that kind of right I guess, to enjoy sex that if someone makes a picture of it and they're like, this is what I think is sexy and you look at it and go, that's like me I could be sexy too.

Eddy: Yeah, absolutely. The diversity and the sex positivity in your work is what makes it stand out above everyone else doing erotic tattooing in my opinion, like it's just, when I look at, you know, the girls that have a little, they have a little pot belly, or they'll have a hip dip, that one boobs a bit saggier than the other. And it's like, I see that in the mirror and that's so sexy that image you've done and yeah, I can relate.

Onnie: Totally. And it's, you know, everyone's worthy of like praise and admiration and like lust and that's it. And especially growing up, I felt like I only saw a really narrow um, sort of ideal for what could be sexually attractive.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: So I'm definitely pleased to see that, like, especially in tattooing, I feel like, um, erotic tattoos have really taken off. Um, yeah, since I started, there were two tattoos that I knew of when I started one was Dusty Neal who works at, uh, Black Anvil in, uh, Fort Wayne in the US and the other is Herman Canela, who is from Buenos Aires. And I'll send you some of their work as well, and I've never been tattooed by Dusty. It's one of my great regrets so far, I'd love to go and meet him and get tattooed by him because he was so kind of generous with his time and his knowledge and, uh, even just his attention. I think he started following me when I was an apprentice, and I shat myself. I was so excited, this is amazing. I'm like heres a guy who's doing bondage tattoos, like not just a little bit cute and sexy pinups, which is sort of where I initially saw my work sort of slotting in.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: Tattooing I'm like these were full on erotic tattoos. And I was like, well, if that guy can do it, so can I.

Eddy: Its so good. And there's definitely such an important place for that in tattooing. Cause I mean, I'm, I'm guilty as well of being another one of those tattooers who does the pinup girl that's just like that prescribed version of normal. That's like skinny, white, Caucasian looking features, just like just so boring and lacking diversity. And it's just something you do without even thinking about it. Like, it's just like, that's, what's done. That's how it's always done. That's how you do it. But you've challenged that.

Onnie: Well. Yeah. And that tattooing tattooing is so much about iconography. Um, you're representing vast concepts for people in, by necessity, very simple imagery. You know, if you, you know, a tattoo of a pinup girl, it doesn't represent, this is the girl that the tattoo is off. That's a tattoo of love or longing or lust or desire or femininity or appreciation. And if you get a tattoo of a ship, you know, that means travel and journeys and. Um, so all of these concepts get distilled into very, very, very simple imagery. And, um, I mean, even with the work that you do, which no one would ever describe as like simple, even if you think about the concepts that you're doing, you know, uh, it's, it's sort of birds and flowers and these for the person who's getting them I imagine that the meaning is much more complex than I like birds and flowers.

Eddy: Yeah, absolutely.

Onnie: So actually doing. Doing the comic book. I should introduce the comic book a little bit more, but doing this comic book has been amazing because suddenly where I had to try and condense all of this stuff about women's power and sexual pleasure and enjoyment and diversity. Uh, now I have actual space for a narrative.

Eddy: Amazing.

Onnie: And that's so, uh, so daunting and so freeing, because it's really the opposite of what, of what I've been doing as a tattooist for years and years.

Eddy: Well.

Onnie: So that's, that's been really positive.

Eddy: Talking about the comic. How did it get started? And please tell the listeners all about that because it's so amazing.

Onnie: Okay. So, so the comic, we started a little company called One Handed Comix and that's me and Ugly Tom who's a, uh, an amazing tattooer, uh, over in Charlotte, in North Carolina. And we started chatting. Sam Rulz showed me his work, I think about two years ago now and was like, You'd love this guy's work. He's really great. He free hands, literally every tattoo, every tattoo, and as well as doing his own like massive projects, uh, tattoo projects that he's working on body suits and things like that. He's also a walk in tattooer occasionally. So if you want like a freehanded Polynesian half sleeve. Or, you know, some like drama masks doesn't matter. He will just draw that straight on you and then tattoo it.

Eddy: The confidence

Onnie: He's obviously like a very, very hardworking and inspiring, uh, tattooer, and so I've been following him for a while and we would chat here and there I'm pretty chatty online. Um, and especially when I really admire someone's work, so we sort of chatted a little bit back and forth. He said, he was like, Oh, this dude's pretty friendly. And then I heard he was on another podcast and I heard him speaking it was about an exhibition that he was having that was supposed to happen this month, um, that is ofcourse not going on at the moment. So we started talking about the themes that he brought up in the podcast, which were about religion and spirituality. And I had like a ton of stuff to say about all of this and sent him a message and then was like, hang on this isn't enough just started leaving him huge voice messages about it. And he wrote back and I guess, I think this was maybe a week or two before we went into lockdown here in New South Wales. And so it'd be about two and a half months ago, I think is the end of March two and a half months now. So, uh, no a month.

Eddy: I can't believe

Onnie: I'm so confused

Eddy: Yeah I don't know. Time, wibbly wobbly timey wimey.

Onnie: It's a loose concept at this point, a while ago. It feels simultaneously very quick and a million years ago. Uh, and so we were chatting away about that. He had a bunch of stuff to say in response to it, and then I had more opinions about it. He had more opinions about that and we were chatting away. And we were like, Hey, maybe we should just do a split sheet you know, we'll do like a little bit of, um, flash each and see how that goes. And then that very quickly turned into, we should make a comic together. And it should be a porno comic.

Eddy: Perfect.

Onnie: Perfect, and that was it. Like, and now, um, you, but tattooing was kind of tough. I mean, it's such a great job, but it can be kind of tough, man that comic book. So it's been it's yeah I guess it's been about a month and a half or nearly two months. We are almost ready to send this 16 page comic book to the printer. Almost.

Eddy: There's a lot of work in that.

Onnie: There's a huge amount of work. Um, but it's been such a joy to work so collaboratively with someone because it really is a truly collaborative effort where we sort of workshop the story together. Then we kind of talk about a layout. We'll do a rough, a very rough layout where we, you know, with stick figures, this panel should be from this angle and this panel should be from that angle. And the big explosion should happen on the bottom half of this page. And we'll sort of show each other ideas. Talk about them, talk about what we like. What we don't like then, uh, he, Tom has been doing the inks. And so I mentioned that he freehands, everything. Um, he's almost totally analog. So all of his contribution to the comic book is physically inking the sheets and then scanning them and then sending them to me.

Eddy: Wow.

Onnie: And then I work digitally over the top of them. Um, so we sort of go back and forth. So I will take his large layout. Digitally pencil um, all of the girls and the parts of the page that I'm drawing, send that back to him. He grids it up by hand to transfer all of my pencils onto the final page. All of his parts scans, those sends them to me. I then redrop my pencils in there, ink those over the top. And then I do a rough and then we talk about the colors and then I do the final version.

Eddy: Wow. That's amazing though, to be able to collaborate, like on such an equal level with another artist, I feel like the communication involved in that would be really difficult, but it sounds like it's working.

Onnie: It is yeah, it is working and I definitely don't think that it would be possible with just anyone. Um, I really, uh, I think we've definitely grown to be really close friends over the process and part of that's because there have been some really difficult discussions and I don't think I realized at the beginning how, um, Uh, I guess like how important these kind of discussions would be in terms of dictating the content of the comic and how much it's forced me to take a lot of ideas that I have in my own work about representing women and sex and forced me to examine them, pull them apart, and then be able to explain them back to someone.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: And especially, uh, someone who, you know, who lives on the other side of the world, who's a different gender to me, has very different like, uh, romantic experiences. Um, and it's been, it's been really, really great to, uh, I guess, speak so openly and honestly, about what started off as like a kind of fun sexy art project, but it's actually pooled up and forced me to really analyze my own beliefs and motivations about this kind of stuff.

Eddy: That's soo amazing.

Onnie: Yeah.

Eddy: That's what arts for.

Onnie: Exactly. Exactly. I think without that sort of mirror into, um, into the world, sometimes you just don't recognize yourself or your own ideas. So.

Eddy: And the fact that you've had to explore what you believe and why you believe that, and then figure out how to express that that expression is going to be so much more authentic and so much clearer and have such a bigger impact on your audience.

Onnie: I hope so. And as much as I don't think that I would label this a feminist comic. Um, it's not that, not that it's not feminist, it's unashamedly feminist just by virtue of what it is, but I also just want to say that there's like a lot of really messy sex in there. And, um, it's. Deeply pornographic. Uh, the comics are called One Handed Comix because the idea is that you have to, you can read them one handed. I'm pretty sure everyone's been masturbating a lot in captivity. And so the whole idea of this comic kind of came out of like trying to meet a need for people.

Eddy: Yes, adult toy companies are doing so well right now.

Onnie: I'll bet they are. If anyone wants to send me a vibrator, I'll happily accept them, um, at the shop, just look up the TLD shop address, and then send through whatever you've got.

Eddy: Onnie can sponno those, uh, friggin sex toys.

Onnie: Yeah. I'll I'll, I'll get you to put the address up at the end so that peple know where to send them.

Eddy: Get you some of those crazy alien ones to go with those alien babes you draw.

Onnie: Oh my God. The alien egg ones. I want that. It's so intensely weird. I really love that. I really don't mean weird in the negative sense. Um, But like, I have a deep interest in those like alien egg. Like I think it's called, like, Ovipositor I may be wrong, I read that, that vice article, like five times and every time I'm like, Oh my God.

Eddy: Every time I see a picture it takes me a moment to like, Oh, Oh yes. That's what it is, huh.

Onnie: Just imagine like sort of wobbling around the house, like just laying alien eggs for my flatmate to find.

Eddy: Amazing. And that's what I'm excited about with your, with your comic, the fact that it's, it's going to be so much more interesting and kink friendly and women friendly and trans friendly and like all of these like different people who aren't represented in mainstream pornography. Like they get to have a place now.

Onnie: Yeah. Yeah. And that's, that's really important. I mean, like I said, like the first issue is only 12 pages long, so, um, and we've got a couple of extra, we've got like one little extra story and a couple of like fun sort of cute fake ads that we made to go in it. So, um, I don't, I don't want to run the risk of disappointing people by talking about like the incredible diversity in it. When the initial story that we've got is pretty, uh, I mean, it has a limited number of characters. So that also means that there's kind of a limited number of, um, things that we can touch on really.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: But that is very much the plan in terms of making more. And we've sort of god, I don't want to jinx it, but like we've we talked about making more of them and that's, that's something that we'd both really like to do. And we're going to try and get as much done while we're in isolation. And then afterwards, I think we're gonna try and work out a way to balance tattooing and making comics because it's something we both really want to continue. Um, But I mean, having it be kind of set in space and giving, giving us that gives us the option of like non human aliens, who can be any gender, any race, um, they can exist in sort of any sort of form that you as the author illustrator want them to take. And I really liked that because I love the idea of being able to present something that might seem different and unusual. Uh, here on earth, but in this comic you can have, um, well, this is just the like polyamory planet and everyone lives like this and it's super normal and everyone's really happy.

And we talked a little bit about the Netflix show Hollywood I think that was very, very much a fantasy rewriting of history. And there's something sort of joyful and positive about that where you can say, look, this is the, this is the future that we, or the past that the sort of dimension that we want to imagine things have happed in. And then from that you can kind of go, well, maybe this is possible.

Eddy: Yeah. That's, what's so good about SciFi it gives you the space of endless possibilities and to just imagine this really optimistic, wonderful world that you can enjoy.

Onnie: Yeah. Yeah. And especially in terms of, um, sort of different forms of activism. I do want to talk about that as well, because I don't necessarily think that the solution to achieving equality is just to kind of whitewash everything and say, well, let's just imagine if everything was wonderful right now. Um, and, but that, that is part of it. And at this point in time, uh, like I was saying, that's, I'm really following my interests and, and this is something that I really want to make, I want to provide kind of a bit of escapism for people, um, and yeah. Make people hopeful and, and feel better about the situation that we're all in at the moment.

Eddy: I'm sure people are going to absolutely love it.

Onnie: I really, I really hope so. I really, really hope so. Um, Yeah. I hope people like it as much as I am enjoying drawing it and

Eddy: I love that you're enjoying drawing it. That makes it even better.

Onnie: It's so much fun. I'm going to confess something here. Uh, a lot of people have been asking if drawing a porno comic makes you horny. And look, the company line on this sorry Tom the company line on this is that actually, you know? Sure. Maybe, but we're really focusing on things aside from just the content, like the composition and all of this. So look, it's not like some kind of total fuckfest, but also honestly it does make you kind of horny.

Eddy: No harm in that.

Onnie: It's really hard not to draw porn all day and think about exactly what it is that would turn someone on about a particular scene without getting a little bit turned on. I only hope that that is passed onto the reader of this and that everyone gets at least a little bit turned on from reading it.

Eddy: I think so. I think with your tattoos and your art, like you can definitely see the joy you've had in creating it and that that's a hundred percent passed on to the viewer and that's why people get your tattoos. So that's going to happen with the comic too.

Onnie: Um, I also feel like the comics really pushed my artwork dramatically. I've been forced to go back and study a lot of anatomy. Um, a lot of movement, uh, talking about communicating a narrative, just in images. And I'm going back to a lot of my roots and like rereading a lot of my old heavy metal magazines to get inspiration and to help decide, you know, how we want the comic to look and to feel and what we need to do to do that.

So I'm so excited to get back to tattooing and just feel like I've leveled up all of these skills. Um, You know, even, even more in this time. So I'm, I'm keen to like, yeah. Apply that to tattooing again and pushing, or I guess having an implied narrative in my work is really important because I want part of what excites that audience so much is to imagine who these characters are, what they're doing, what's happening, what they're about to encounter. Um, and so, yeah, I mean, for the comic there's, I mean, there's a direct narrative there, but you also don't show every single thing in a story. And so you have to, the viewer has to get from one panel to the next and understand what's happening. And that is really something that I want to push with tattooing. I'd really like to move beyond the simplistic iconography of what tattoos are, even though I love that so much about tattoos. I think what I want from my work is to be able to communicate more with an image.

Eddy: Yeah. I can see that happening because your work is so dynamic. There is a lot of like room for storytelling in that.

Onnie: Cool. I'm so glad. I mean, your boxer girl, like.

Eddy: I love her

Onnie: She's a good example

Eddy: Onnie did, for our listeners Onnie did this amazing, like strong, muscular, angry boxer woman on me with like skin tears around it. It's so good.

Onnie: She's like fighting out of, out of your leg. Um, but you know, she's really like, she's kind of like a little bit like rough. It's obviously not the, uh, not the beginning of the fight, but it's not the end either. So I want you to think about like, Who is she? Why is she fighting so hard? Is she gonna win? Maybe, maybe not.

Eddy: Damn right she's gonna win. It might get a bit, a bit like difficult there towards the end, but she'll come out triumphant. I can guarantee.

Onnie: Spit out the tooth

Eddy: Spit the blood on the canvas.

Onnie: And that's I mean, that's kind of the artwork that grabs me the most is when I continue to like turn it over in my head after I've seen it and try and try and pull it apart and try and figure out what's what's happening. So

Eddy: I think, Oh, what about other guests? Brody, who I spoke to the other day. You did a lovely tattoo on them of a special moment.

Onnie: Yeah. Um, Oh, that was, that was so nice. It was really lovely to have Brody in the shop and, um, uh, yeah. Get to know them and get to do a really fun tattoo. And I think does Brody work with Sera Helen?

Eddy: Yes.

Onnie: Yeah, at Crucible. Yeah. Uh, she's also amazing I'm wearing her today.

Eddy: I noticed that. Yeah, Sera's incredible.

Onnie: The girl with all the tribal tattoos, riding the dragon tat gun. It's amazing.

Eddy: So much talent in that studio and in the one you work in as well.

Onnie: Oh, yeah, the boys are fantastic. It's really, it's been really, really good. And it's nice to work in a studio where the, I guess the art style is say same, same, but different. Um, I always like to think that my work is pretty firmly rooted in traditional tattooing in that I'm trying to make, uh, you know, bright, solid colors, clean black lines. Um, I want them to age well. But I'm just putting them together in a slightly different way than Trad Trad.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: But I've learned so much in the last couple of years that I've, I've worked there. They're all really amazing tattooers.

Eddy: And they all have that same kind of thing. The really bright, bold colors, crisp black lines it's just so powerful as a tattoo and it will age so well, that kind of work.

Onnie: Well, that's it. Yeah, I'm really proud. I think I've gotten tattooed by everyone at the shop now, at least, at least once. And they all look amazing. Um, and yeah, it's really nice. They get a lot of, a lot of compliments on, um, on those sets that the guys did. Yeah, I do miss them.

Eddy: It's so hard being away from the colleagues. Cause I think we spend more time with them than we do in our own homes. And then suddenly you're not seeing them every day and it's just like, Oh, I wonder, I wonder what they're doing right now.

Onnie: Do they still think of me?

Eddy: We have a little group chat where it's like, there's a lot of memes and a lot of little, I miss you gifs and just like love hearts and rainbows to each other.

Onnie: I have to say at the beginning of, uh, isolation, the memes were fire.

Eddy: Oh my God

Onnie: People, there were so many good ones. Things have seriously declined since then, my favorite meme group on Facebook have descended into jorts and Shrek memes, and they have a boomer Thursday now and like I could take just boomer Thursday was just, people would just post terrible boomer memes, you know, where it's like, the punchline is always like I hate my wife. And I can try to take that. Like I kind of, I enjoy the irony of it that you can't have like three ironic meme days out of a week when we're all home all the time. I'm like you can make a jorts thread, you can make a Shrek thread. I don't want to see that all, like I intensely disliked jorts now.

Eddy: I have to admit I'm not yet as developed in my understanding and taste of memes. I mostly just stick to the Elle Woods Legally Blondes memes.

Onnie: Well, that's fine. You've got Brooke and Siarn there and they're on fire.

Eddy: Brooke is the meme queen.

Onnie: Yes, Yes. Oh my God.

Eddy: Um for our listeners Brooke is a one of the amazing artists I work with and I don't think anyone has ever been better at sharing memes than, than Brooke, or even in her drunken state, creating them.

Onnie: Does she have her own meme page yet?

Eddy: Not yet, but I have been begging her to do a meme page and a YouTube channel. You should see some of the videos she's left on my phone when we've partied.

Onnie: I know.

Eddy: I'll send them to you.

Onnie: I would follow the YouTube channel Brooke at the Hamo

Eddy: Right.

Onnie: We'll just call it The smoking section,

Eddy: Havin a fuckin duzza at the Hamo.

Onnie: I know next time, the next time I come up, I really want to come and party with you guys. And you should come out too, um, but yeah mainly

Eddy: We, last time we worked out, we can do it at my house when Amy was here. We just like had a fashion show and went through my

Onnie: I saw the fashion show

Eddy: My costume box and it was lit.

Onnie: Oh man. Yeah. That'd be great to have a fashion show again. I mean, I've been buying a ton of clothes from like my tattooer mates and that's, that's been awesome. Um, but mainly I just live in my like yoga pants these days.

Eddy: I can't wait till we're all back at New Zealand, um, Tattoo and Art Convention, and your booth, where you and Sam are always on fire and bring the fashion. I remember your Christmas theme booth last year. Sam's always just glitter and rainbows.

Onnie: I just want to say for anyone out there that is thinking about doing a Christmas theme booth, don't do it. People don't like it.

Eddy: I loved it

Onnie: I was so excited to do this Christmas booth. I thought people were going to be really into it. I'm like who doesn't love Christmas. It's the happiest time of the year. People don't like Christmas. They don't want Christmas tattoos not an convention anyway. Um, the only way that I could get people into it was to like tie my shirt up.

Eddy: It became smutty Christmas,

Onnie:] It was smutty Christmas. I mean, it was already smutty Christmas, All the Christmas designs with smutty Christmas designs, but

Eddy: I wear the hell out of your smarty Christmas shirt. That's like, it's like a weekly, like thing that I wear that shirt as soon as it comes out of the wash it's back on again.

Onnie: Amazing. I'm so happy about that. I still have, I still have quite a few like big sizes in that, because I think the last shirt I did was black and it's like, I sold out of XLs straight away. So I got a bunch of XLs made up in this one, but are ran out of smalls first up, I think. Yeah, that was all the girls wanted a pink shirt with the bondage babe on it just sitting on top of this guy

Eddy: Was so good.

Onnie: Yeah. But I am, I am really, really looking forward to that. I hope that's going ahead in November. Um, but if not, you know, the years just go faster and faster now. So yeah.

Eddy: Yeah they do, I can't believe it's May already we'll be back to tattooing in no time. I'm sure.

Onnie: I thought you were going to say November.

Eddy: Please no. How, like, how do you reckon this current situation is going to affect tattooing? Like, or how we experience art even?

Onnie: Um, I I'm really hoping that it reminds people just how important art is in these times, um, in whatever capacity, whether you're talking about a tattooing or theater, film, or movies, I've been listening to so much music, uh, and really. I guess really kind of examining all of this, this stuff that I'm looking at, whether it's the books I'm reading or the TV shows that I'm not watching while I draw, or the artwork that I'm making, um, and how that has the capacity to make you feel less alone and less isolated in your, in your circumstances. Um, so I hope that that gives people a sense of like greater importance or that there's greater importance placed on, um, on the arts at the same time I think things are going to be really different. I mean, here in Australia, we, uh, I think the majority of tattooers are eligible for some form of welfare welfare generally. Um, Job Keeper.

Eddy: Yeah. If they're residents. Yeah.

Onnie: If they're residents, um, but uh, over in the US that's not the case, they don't have the same. They don't have any welfare for tattooers.

Eddy: It's so ridiculous.

Onnie: It's ridiculous. Well, because it's also illegal for them to open up. And so people are fighting for the right to reopen their studios, um, which is dangerous still dangerous.

Eddy: Yeah. It's difficult because you

Onnie: Cause I'm a big expert.

Eddy: Yeah. Well, that's it like what, none of us are really experts, but like, you know, from what we're told, it's it's dangerous. But then at the same time, of course, they're going to fight. They're terrified. They're not going to pay their rent or eat or look after their families. It must be so scary. And artists just, I mean, imagine being an isolation without art. We just couldn't do it.

Onnie: Well that's just, that's just solitary confinement.

Eddy: Exactly. Like we need to respect artists and look after them.

Onnie: Yeah. Yeah, absolutely. And I mean, expecting, I mean, cutting off people's livelihood, but expecting them to still maintain all of their outgoings, um, is ridiculous and impossible. So yeah. Um, I'm very, I'm very worried for my friends over there. Um, I don't, uh, I don't really have a clear idea yet of what that's going to mean for tattooing, whether that means you have, uh, artists moving out of tattooing into a more secure job. Um, I think the situation would be similar to Australia where there's not even if you move out of the job that you've got now, which job are you going to move into?

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: So I guess I'm sort of withholding, um, my opinion until I know more or I can actually make any kind of informed guess.

Eddy: Yeah, it could go back to the way it was, you know, in the early days in Western tattooing where, you know, it was a tattoo shop and a barber shop and, you know, multiple other kind of trades all in one little, little house.

Onnie: Well, that's it. I don't know if you've been to Sleeve Masters here in Sydney.

Eddy: No I haven't.

Onnie: It's still, it's the same venue that it's been, and it's this tiny, tiny, narrow shop. And you come in and there's a counter. And then there's the tattoo studio. And that the artists chair, and then there's like a little room behind that I think with like a sink, but the toilet's not even in the shop.

Eddy: Wow.

Onnie: Um, so, you know, it's very, very old school and, uh, and really, really tiny. And I do kind of love that atmosphere. Um, it's very different to sort of the big, calm, open spaces of a lot of studios nowadays, but yeah. Uh, it's, it's definitely a fun spot to get tattooed in. So I wouldn't be mad if we had more kind of like just figure it out as you go along tattoo shops, you know as long as everyone's clean, then it's fine.

Eddy: Yeah. There's a space like I think, you know, there's a risk that we'll lose walk-in shops, but I think if people are creative, we can have like lots of different ways of going about tattooing that's still safe. And I guess like, Legal so that we can operate without getting fined, but you know, like we can get creative with it.

Onnie: There's like so much money lying around now

Eddy: Yeah. Anyway, um, I want to go back to something you mentioned earlier about. Um, the discussions you have regarding feminism or, you know, different opinions and theories and how to mitigate them. Cause I know that that's something that you talk about a fair bit and that we were talking about before this interview, um, like what, what, what is, what is your approach?

Onnie: Um, I guess in in these kinds of discussions. I think it's really important to God is there's a couple of things. Um, these are often really hard discussions to have, and I like to choose my words really carefully. Um, you know, because it's, I think it's easy for meaning to be misconstrued. So, Ummm. I think that listening is of course really important. I think that the majority of times, if you're discussing, I think that the pros for feminism and the cons for feminism, when you have two different people coming at it from opposing sides, I think often they want the same solution. But have very different ideas about either what feminism is or means um, and don't fully understand it. And I think the opposite can also happen, um, where you can assume someone's intentions or, and, uh, and both it's very easy, I guess, to misconstrue what the other person's saying, or to really stick to your assumptions about what they're saying. And the most successful discussions I've had have, I guess also taught me something about, about the other person, about the way that the other person thinks, um, about their sort of fears or apprehensions.

And when you can get to the root of those emotions, that's when you have an opportunity to I guess change someone's mind or actually make them receptive to hearing your experience. Yeah. Um, and again, look like, like I said earlier, this having these kinds of discussions is a lot of work. You know, it really does require effort not to let your emotions overpower you when you feel really passionate about something. And that's absolutely something that I I struggle with, and Greg will tell you, we've had some discussions about feminism where we've just been like, look, we just agreeing to disagree here. And he fucking loves, he loves to wind me up.

Eddy: But that's how we, that's how we learn to like the, the discussion back and forth. Like, you know, I wasn't always a feminist. I didn't always have the knowledge I have now, but it's through understanding that it was the fear that's like been bred into me by society of all of these changes and all these like dynamics. I don't understand. And then once you start to understand those and understand how they affect our behavior and our language and everything like that, then you can start making those changes, but you have to be able to have a conversation and be challenged but listen.

Onnie: Yes. Yeah, that's so important. And I think everyone grows up like that. You, you grow up, uh, trying to understand the status quo and how to fit into that. I mean, that's what being a person is about. And I think that. Uh, fitting in with other people is something that's really hardwired in us. Um, and so if you live in a patriarchal society, which we do, um, those are going to be seen as the ideas that are normal and acceptable and right. And it's yeah. It's like you say, until you realize that maybe your own experience or the experiences of others or the things that you see in the world, uh, don't add up. Then that's when you begin to question and challenge that, um, but people can spend a lot of their time, uh, often their whole life trying to fit in. And so when you challenge that, that, that becomes a very personal confrontation.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: Um, Just because they've invested so much in maybe suppressing these things in themselves that you're embracing and saying, Hey, we don't have to put up with that. That's not actually right. And let's do something about it.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: And you feel like you've been fighting in the wrong direction, your whole life. Like, Oh my God. I thought if I just conformed that I would be happy. And now you're saying I have to rail against conformity in order to be happy.

Eddy: Yeah. It's hard how are we? We just want to be normal, but then being normal is actually quite toxic because who does, who prescribes normal anyway, and it's just.

Onnie: That's it. And there is no normal there's no,

Eddy: No, there shouldn't be.

Onnie: I've never met a normal person in my whole life. Even the most normal people that you meet might have some giant Koi tattoo on their back that you don't know about. And tattoos are definitely not normal.

Eddy: No, no. Anyone with a tattoo is a freak.

Onnie: Absolutely. I think we can all agree on that. Especially porno tattoos.

Eddy: Yeah. If you've got a fucking like shunga tattoo then nah, you don't belong. Nope. Sorry guys.

Onnie: Actually, someone, someone did say like what one of the Instagram questions was. Um, if you've had any negative reactions to your work as, as an erotic tattooer, um, And sometimes yes, people have those kinds of reactions. My favorite thing, this comes up all the time at conventions, like some people will wander off that, look at the really filthy stuff, then I'll be like, why would anyone even get this? People get tattoos of things that they like and some people like blowjobs.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: Um, you know, there's sort of an idea of if you're going to get tattooed, there's a certain set of things or parameters that you can, you can acceptably get tattooed sometimes, you know, people say, well, it has to be really meaningful. Has to be something you would never change your mind about.

Eddy: The thing I hate when they're like, Oh, it's something that, you know, you won't be ashamed of on your wedding day. Like what. Who give a fuck. Put a fucking dick on my forearm for my wedding day please.

Onnie: Done. I'll see you after quarantine. Are you going to renew your vows with like a nice big, like forehead dick.

Eddy: Like, um, that the woman in that old tattoo book that got around about a decade ago where she's got like all of these dicks across her chest and butt, and there's like the cockroaches and everything.

Onnie: Is it the Dave Lum Yeah. The Dave Lum necklace,

Eddy: I think so.

Onnie: The dick necklace.

Eddy: Yeah.

Onnie: For anyone, for anyone wondering, uh, what I look like. Um, me and that lady are fairly physically similar. I do not have a Nicholas, a dick necklace.

Eddy: Not yet anyway.

Onnie: A dick nicklas. But I wish I did. Um, I deeply regret never getting tattooed by Dave Lum. And I've been really lucky when I'm in the States to see a bunch of his tattoos in the flesh. Sadly, never the dick necklace one day.

Eddy: One day.

Onnie: Yeah. So it's actually, it's funny that you bring that up. Cause of course I said, you know, there were so few people getting pornographic tattoos before, before me and, and sort of these other artists I mentioned, um, which is of course, uh, just proved not true at all. People have always been amazing filthy perverts who love sex.

Eddy: Oh Yeah. Absolutely.

Onnie: And if you look back through newspaper records, you can find an article from almost every decade from the 1910s until today saying how tattooing is not underground anymore. Now it's becoming mainstream and it's not just for sailors of criminals. Every 10 years they bring this article out. It just makes me laugh because of course, I guess it's always been a little bit mainstream and a little bit subversive. And when, and it's, it's such a personal art form, so you don't have the same kind of control, let's say, um, is evident in, uh, like fine art, but you have gallery owners and curators and they, they can very specifically control who they, they think should be popular and, and whose work is going to be um, expensive, um, tattooing, you know, you're always dealing with sort of one on one clients. So while there is like a very, in, in all facets of society, very strong ideas about what is normal and acceptable. Uh, you get to meet some amazing people who have fantastic ideas outside of that, about, um, you know, what they like, what they want to decorate their body with. Um, and it's been such a privilege to. Have so many great clients. Who've shared so much with me about their, you know, their sexual experiences, um, their orientations. I am constantly surprised by how normal people look and the wild ass stories that they tell me.

Eddy: That's like, that's, that's one of the best parts of it. Like the stories you hear. In this journey while you're traveling, tattooing and like the shit you see in the stuf you hear.

Onnie: It's wild. Yeah. And I'm really, that's something that I miss so much right now is traveling and I can't wait to get overseas again, really, really excited about getting to do more traveling. And

Eddy: You've always been a big traveler hey?

Onnie: Yeah. Yeah. And my, um, you know, my mum has always been a big traveler as well. And, uh, you know, she's from Canada. So she moved over to Australia and then never left. So, I mean, I haven't, I just keep coming back to Australia. Like, I don't know. Maybe I should find some other country to live in for awhile.

Eddy: You'll come back.

Onnie: Yeah. I mean, I do love it here. I probably will always come back and we are very, very fortunate here as much as I rail against the government. Um, and send them a lot of, I've been sending Scott Morrison memes every time I see a real sassy one, I just email it to him. And even though, uh, I don't think he personally is receiving them. I'm hoping that I'm like slowly converting his staff.

Eddy: Yeah. They're probably all just being like, Oh wait, he is a joke. No, my favorite ones are all the Scotty no, from Austin Powers.

Onnie: Oh, my God. I haven't seen any of those.

Eddy: Ok, I will send them to you. Yes.

Onnie: We'll put them up on the screen.

Eddy: Yeah. It's yeah, we, we have like a lot of other patriarchal colonial countries. We have absolute bullshit dick wads in charge, but you know, Maybe we can burn them down and start a new one day.

Onnie: I'm going to continue to accept the welfare money that I contributed an enormous amount of tax towards.

Eddy: Damn right.

Onnie: And yeah.

Eddy: I paid tax. I'm taking that welfare.

Onnie: Exactly. That's exactly it. It's just funny that I gave you guys recently anyway.

Eddy: And I want everyone else taking that welfare too. Even if they didn't pay tax because you deserve it cause you're a human.

Onnie: Well, exactly. That's, you know, we live in a society, right?

Eddy: We've got to abide by their silly laws. They should fucking pay us.

Onnie: Totally totally well that's, I mean, it's, you know, it's a cycle it's, um, it has to be a cycle. So yeah, I mean, I hope, I hope people are doing really well. And I just wish so deeply that, um, everyone had the same kind of luxuries that we do at the moment. Um, yeah, so, and in the meantime, hopefully a nice comic book will help people.

Eddy: Definitely.

Onnie: Even if it's just some form of escapism for a short time.

Eddy: I think that's, yeah. It's, it's those little, those little moments where we can escape that will get people through it. For sure.

Onnie: Yeah. Yeah. And it's important. It's important to have a rest from the crushing existential horror

Eddy: Stop start worrying about when you can go back to tattooing and have a wank.

Onnie: That's it. That's it.

Eddy: Well.

Onnie: Um, Yeah, I was going to say, I think I have to head off.

Eddy: That's all right. Is there anything you wanted to mention before we finish up?

Onnie: I think I've pretty much covered everything. Uh, I'll give you the TLD address and, uh, send you through a bunch of cool memes um, for you and everyone else to laugh at.

Eddy: Well I'll post, for our listeners, I'll post a bunch of pictures and links, um, for the things that we've discussed, um, in our blog. Um, I'll also put links in the show notes and, um, yeah, you'll be able to listen to the episode on Spotify and iTunes and a few other channels. Um, Yeah, make sure you subscribe follow and share and help spread the love of tattooing. Um, thank you so much Onnie for sharing your story and to all our listeners for tuning in. We really appreciate it. I hope you all have a brilliant day and remember to love the heck out of yourself.

Onnie: Yeah, awesome, all right. So nice talking to you.

[mmeaninglessnamee]

Best Things 2019 list

Welcome to my best of the year list, where you get ambushed by Anime at every turn because I refuse to make a separate anime-related category because all movies are films. [Pronounce this line very snobbily]

If you’ve never read one of my best-of-the-year lists, I don’t blame you, they are usually full of garbage except for this one which you should care deeply about. Anyway, this is the best things I first experienced on the past year, which often has a lot of things that didn’t come out this year, because I inevitably miss some things and there was a lot of good media from before I was born.

Anyway, on to the list! The one thing a year I actually use Tumblr to post!

Best Movies:

There’s only two movies that make this list entirely on their own merits this year. Last year I had a top ten, but I watched significantly more movies in 2018 than this year.

Angel’s Egg

Angel’s Egg is art-house anime at its peak. There’s not so much a story here as an uneasy feeling, symbolism, and probably 30 lines of dialogue total and an extremely limited color palette. You could interpret it as about becoming disillusioned with religion, or the complete opposite and see it as a lost, obsessed soul being redeemed. Or something completely different. It’s art for art’s sake.

I inevitably have anime on my best-of lists each year, and I try to not have it over-represent the scope of things I watched each year. But I’ve seen a lot less anime than other genres I like, so there’s a huge amount of really good anime I’ve never seen. I can watch 10 anime movies in a year and they can all be pretty good because there’s just a lot of good ones from a 50-year period that I haven’t seen, while I’ve seen most good sci-fi movies and a lot of the “classics” films and pretty much left with just watching new ones that have come out recently. And it’s not like I’m not watching western animated movies, there’s just not a lot that I would put on a best-of list. While last year had Isle of Dogs and Spiderverse, this year had some forgettable sequels. Anyway, that was a long aside to start this list, but I would love to get more good entries in my favorites every year. I can only hope Star Trek directed by Tarintino actually happens.

Synechdoche, New York

– ultimately will probably never make an all-time favorites list from me, but still a very good piece of filmmaking. It’s extremely dense with layered symbolism and tons of rewatchability. Yet, I don’t really feel the need to rewatch it. It’s very good, but not the kind of good that I feel the need to sing the praises of. If you like extremely well-planned, detailed filmmaking, there are many more-glowing reviews out there for it. This is a huge favorite among film critics, and I can respect why, but I am not a film critic. I don’t get burnt out watching bad movies because I don’t watch movies I don’t think I’ll like, unless they are into “so bad it’s good” territory.

Speaking of the act of watching movies: Best theater experience: Promare

Surprise, it’s Anime again! This movie wasn’t an all-time great, but it was big and stupid and exciting, and I got to see it in a packed theater with tons of Studio Trigger fans who cheered for every reference and visual nod. And the references were great, although they sometimes were a reminder that other similar plots were done better than they were in Promare. But Promare was definitely done gayer than any of the previous shows it took its style from.

That’s all for movies. I did not watch nearly as many that I loves as last year

Best short film:

There were no short films I loved this year. I saw some decent ones, and there’s always some interesting animation from short films, but there weren’t any that stuck out as much as anything last year.

A special mention goes to Age of Sail from John Kahrs with Chromosphere and Evil Eye pictures.( This was distributed by Google Spotlight Stories, so you can easily find it online.) This story had good enough characters that at the end I was left wanting more to their stories, and the visual style was memorable as well.

Best Shows:

The Good Place

I have a lot of things to say about The Good Place, but I really don’t want to spoil the show if you haven’t seen it, so I’ll try to be brief because most of the longwinded things I could say about it have to do with its reveals and plot progression.

What I will say is that one of the great things about The Good Place is that anything could happen, and suddenly, not just in a finale at the end of a season. But what initially got me to watch the show is its strong premise. Elenore wakes up to find out she is dead, but is in The Good Place. The only problem is that she was an awful person who doesn’t deserve to be there. So, she tries to learn to be a good person before she is found out so that she can stay. The show has a lot to say about ethics, morals, and what it means to be “good”, but it’s also primarily a comedy so it’s usually not very heavy-handed about anything.

The final season of The Good Place aired in 2019, but I’m not actually caught up on it yet so I don’t know what the ending is, just that it ended.

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumia

I like shows that are constantly surprising and unpredictable. I just said the same thing about The Good Place. Haruhi has a lot of faults, but makes up for them by being not just unpredictable but also very novel or sometimes just bizarre in its presentation. It has the same sense that anything could happen to suddenly change the story that The Good Place has, but in intentionally confusing ways. The two most interesting attributes of the show aren’t even its characters or premise, but two series of episodes: the first season episode order and the Endless Eight. The first 13 episodes of the show were initially broadcast completely out of order, and they are better that way. The first episode is entirely a bad student film that doesn’t even properly introduce any characters, and its backstory isn’t covered until the second season. But it’s an amazing introduction to the series. The series overall doesn’t have amazing visuals beyond some strange framing choices, but this episode also has lots of little details to sell that it’s a bad film, like camera shake and shots that aren’t entirely in focus.

The Endless Eight is the same episode eight times in a row. It’s was actually one of my favorite parts of the series, although I can see why people would loath it, especially if you were watching the show when it aired and had to wait a whole week to see the same thing happen again and again.

There’s also a silly dance with the ending theme. Every fad needs a stupid dance to go with it.

And then there’s the movie, the Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumia, which caps off the series, or at least the anime’s run, and is nearly 3 hours long. It’s actually the second-longest animated film ever made, trailing the extended cut of Final Yamato, a space opera from the 80’s, by one minute. The movie caps off the whole series, reincorporating many events that already happened in the series and showing some characters in a new light. Before the movie, I had no idea why there was an alternate-universe spinoff series about a normal version of one of the main characters, but now I completely understand it. Although the erratic pacing of the whole series may turn people off, and it is far from perfect and filled with enough cliché moments to fill a uh, something large, the moments where the story hits hard are extremely memorable.

Best web original programming:

“4K cab view - Geibi Line Hiroshima Station to Fukuen Line Fuchū Station, Japan”

Let me try to explain why a 4-hour video of railroad tracks is amazing.

1: I like trains 2: It’s really relaxing to just look at the scenery going by

3: I think that this specific video is good rather than just the large amount of transport cab-view videos in general because it’s long enough to be an experience, not just a video. That might sound corny, but you really go on a journey with this video, from city to countryside, and perhaps more strikingly from pre-dawn early morning to full daylight. I did not sit and watch this all at once, but I certainly could.

Best Music Videos:

OK Go Music Videos

Do you like cool ideas for music videos? OK Go has cool ideas for music videos, to the point that the videos are better than the music. You may remember their original hit which was a dance on treadmills. They have only got more elaborate since, with a rube Goldberg machine, a super-slow-mo video, hundreds of choreographed dancers, a car used as an instrument, and my favorite: a video shot in zero-g. To make things even better, most of their videos are in a single take which just makes them all the more impressive.

BEASTARS Opening

Opening themes to anime are basically just short music videos. Usually they aren’t too special, but I also think the vast majority of anime shows themselves are nothing special either, so that’s not saying much. However, sometime you get something really good like the Beastars OP, which in addition to having a jazzy song uses stop-motion animation for its visuals. Stop motion animation is always cool. I think it’s also thematically appropriate for a 3-D animated show to have an intro using the oldest form of 3-D animation.

And since we’re on Music Videos, let’s just go right into the next main section: Music.

Music:

Gregory and the Hawk

Gregory and the Hawk is an indie folk artist with a weird name. She sings sweet-sounding songs about troubled lives, and I like how her music sounds. It definitely won’t strike a chord with everyone though.

Not much to say about her, I just like it. Her best song is “Oats We Sow”.

Mariko Goto / Midori

This isn’t anime music. Mariko Goto didn’t appeal to me because she made music for some anime that I liked. I just feel like my best-of lists get heavy with anime-related things a lot for reasons I already discussed that back in the movies section. Anyway, Mariko Goto’s music is weird. This also includes the work of the band Midori, which she was a part of.

Midori was a jazz-punk-fusion band. That probably doesn’t bring any particular sound to your mind, but I can’t describe it well either. Mariko as a solo artist is also kind of the same genre, except sometimes. Many songs never quite find themselves coming to rest, either on a major key or sometimes even all on the same beat, while Mariko does a kind of overly-cutesy screech over the instrumentals. I would describe some of their music as sounding like a waking dream you would have while trying to rest with a fever.

I would say her best songs are “Swing”(with Midori), “Drone”, and “@HφU☆少女。。”(however you pronounce this mess) and best overall album is “299792458”

Angelique Kidjo – Remain in Light (Album cover)

A.K. is a Beninese music artist. She did a full cover album of Remain in Light, one of my favorite albums by one of my favorite bands. Talking Heads were one of the first mainstream rock bands to use (or depending on who you ask, steal) African polyrhythms extensively, and now Kidjo has taken them back. I have heard a lot of good covers from this album, most notably another entire-album cover by Phish, but this is the best one by far.

Her other, original work is okay too, but wouldn’t get on my best-of lists by themselves. Remain in Light was released in 2018, but I didn’t hear it until this year. Here’s some more music from 2018 that I didn’t hear until this year:

Revue Starlight soundtrack

Revue Starlight was a pretty good anime that aired last year. But wait, aren’t we past the audiovisual media section? Yeah, we are, because Starlight had some problems in my opinion. The soundtrack, both the original songs and the background score, were not one of the problems. The soundtrack was the best part of the show, which is why I’m putting it on my best music list. The genre is best described as modern classical. Most of the orchestration is a traditional string orchestra, but with different songs having distinct accents, like mechanical distortion, a heavy electric bass line, more traditional Japanese strings and woodwinds, or a screaming guitar solo. I think some of the songs are actually better absent of the show, because especially some of the revue songs were not used particularly well. My favorite song from the show, A Song or the Blooming of Flowers, especially got shafted in the anime by having characters talking over most of it and having a rather lackluster fight. The best pieces from the score however, Rondo Rondo Rondo and the transformation theme, were used well. But it baffles me that someone decided that songs with thematic lyrics should be spoken over with dialogue saying basically the same thing thematically as the lyrics.

The Protomen

The Protomen have a lot of musical talent and I really like how they sound…   on their second album. Their first album blows. Also all of their original music is based on made-up backstory to the MegaMan video game franchise. You gotta write about something I guess. Like I said, I really like some of their tracks, but I’m really not sure if I recommend they entirely.

Of Monsters and Men – all the tracks that didn’t get radio play

Of Monsters and Men is a pretty good band. I had already heard all their songs that were widely popular (so pretty much just Little Talks) so those don’t count for being something new I heard this year. But I also don’t really care for Wars, their new song that has got radio play this year. But I really like most of the rest of their tracks, and I also love the aesthetic of the visualizers for My Head is an Animal.

And here’s some individual songs where I didn’t like the artist’s whole catalogue but I liked certain songs.

God Knows – Aya Hirano

This is a rock song from The Meloncholy of Haruhi Suzumia. (oh no we’re back to anime) Haruhi is not a music show, but it nevertheless has a music episode out of nowhere. As in two of the characters perform this song in the show with no build up to it and with one of them never having shown any musical skill, so of course she can absolutely shred on guitar. This song basically got me to actually watch the show now on my favorites list even though I knew it was just a one-off in a single episode, so I think that’s a pretty solid statement for being one of the best songs I heard this year. Aya Hirano produced some other music as well, but I don’t like anything that I’ve heard as much, which might just be God Knows having the benefit of context. Since Haruhi, she’s performed with the stage theater company that inspired the anime Revue Starlight, the music from which was also just on this list. Everything’s connected!

Girls Dead Monster

Speaking of anime music, GirlDeMo is also anime-related music. GirlDeMo is the band in the anime Angel Beats, but they also produced some real albums with additional music, not just the songs used in Angel Beats. Unlike the Revue Starlight soundtrack, this isn’t a bright spot of an okay show, it’s on this list as a stand-alone because I really like female-lead rock music. Not every song is a masterpiece, but I like some of them enough to put them on this list. Best tracks: Crow Song (this was in the first ep. of Angel Beats) and Little Braver (was not in the show, but is coincidentally the only GirlDeMo song I’ve found a Clone Hero beatmap for, so someone else has good taste as well.) Also an honorable mention to the rock cover of the Angel Beats opening theme which is performed in-universe at the start of an episode.

I think that’s all the things related to anime on this list now. There’s a lot of anime with some very good high points, but yet very few that overall come all together to make a full package that’s good all the way through. Just having one aspect of something that people like a lot is better than nothing though, but that’s why it got spread all across this list instead of being confined to movies and shows, it spreads like a sickness across the land, creeping up and night and stifling life.

Speaking of creeping up at night and stifling life:

LEATHER TEETH – Carpenter Brut

This song is a piece of heavy horror electronica, and it slaps hard. Slashes hard? The music video is about a slasher-movie serial killer, but the track has plenty of atmosphere on its own. The rest of the album is also good, but does not reach the peak of the title track. They all have very high amount of violence and sex in their videos though, so beware who you watch them around. One of them has a YouTube-friendly version where all the gore is left intact but the nudity is censored with lots of guns.

Curses – The Crane Wives

This is a good song, but I don’t like most of The Crane Wives’ catalogue as much as this one song. That’s all I have to say about this one.

The chorus is really catchy, or maybe just the singer’s smoky delivery is inherently memorable.

I Am The Antichrist To You – Kishi Bashi

This is a surprisingly slow, melancholy song, from the title you would probably expect some heavy metal. This song is carried by the vocals.

Borodin – Polovstian Dances from Prince Igor (Choral version)

Here’s something not even remotely contemporary. Did you know that this piece was originally written to have lyrics? I didn’t. Did you know that this piece is AMAZING with vocals added to it? Now you do.

Arriving Somewhere But Not Here by Porcupine Tree

This was probably the best prog-rock song I heard all year. Yeah, that’s all for this one.

Dream Sweet in Sea Major

Joe Hawley, Allison Hanna and Bora Karaca are three people I have never heard of who make very strange alternative music that sounds like it belongs playing on a phonograph, except when it abruptly shifts to some other various genre. This song got the YouTube algorithm blessing, but the band the artists are a part of, Tally Hall, apparently has some amount of online following. I’d never heard of them. The side project that produced the album “Hawaii Part II” that this song is from has an entirely Japanese name for some reason. (None of the members are Japanese) I guess if you’re making a weird side project, make it as weird as you want.

Did you know Rob Cantor (who wrote Running for your life from Shia LeBeouf) is part of Tally Hall? Now you do. He didn’t work on this song, but looking up stuff about this song was a huge rabbit hole.

25 Color Twilight from City Connection from Voez

The rhythm game Voez has some good music. I put Night Keepers, the most-featured artist, on my list last year. This particular song is a reimagining of the main theme of City Connection, a NES game where you run away from the cops with a bunch of paint dripping out the back of your car. Why? Because. I’ve played it and didn’t think it was very fun, but anyway this song is great.

HM: Aqualung – Pressure Suit

HM: Heart of Glass - Blondie

HM: Locomotive Breath – Jethro Tull

These songs aren’t Honorable Mentions because I only kind-of like them, they are HMs because I had heard them before but only really listened to them a lot this year.

Locomotive Breath is just a good song that always leaves me wanting more at the end of it. So I listen to it again and again.

Heart of Glass is just really really catchy and I love how it draws attention to its own skipped beat in the chorus. There are lots of songs that skip a beat to smooth over a song transition, but this song skips a beat to become rougher.

Pressure Suit has a story to it. I first saw the song’s music video on an MTV-style channel on a TV at a college campus cafeteria. I was in middle school at the time. The video was very memorable to me, and the TV had subtitles on it so I remembered the chorus lyrics, but there was no audio. Amazingly, I remembered this and found the song much later, and even more surprisingly actually liked it.

 Games:

The Beatles Rock Band

Since we’re coming off music, it only makes sense to start with a music game. Remember Guitar Hero? The series is still going with Guitar Hero Live, but it really died out years ago. Despite that, it’s still great fun, and the popularity of Clone Hero shows that people still love the idea. Most of the Guitar Hero and Rock Band games really emphasized the aesthetic of grunge and heavy metal, and had some face-melting solos and heavily technical songs. The Beatles Rock Band has neither of those things, which is a lot of why I like it. I mean, I also like The Beatles, but that’s kind of assumed since I liked a game that’s entirely their music. Even on expert mode, this game is laid back and relaxed, with some of the songs have videos that travel from the studio to psychedelic landscapes. I never owned this game when it came out, but now I bought it for $3.

Celeste

The last section to write. I have so much to say about how good Celeste is.

Celeste is by far the best game I played this year. I have a hard time loving 2-D platformers because they so often feel slippery and imprecise but demand perfection from the player. Old Mario games are icons of the genre. Mario slides off everything and needs momentum to get anywhere off a jump. Meat Boy is a game with death everywhere for the slightest mistake, but by design you slide up walls while having to be very deliberate with your jumps to get the correct arc and height. Celeste improved the controls and feel of the game to the point that it feels perfectly precise, and mistakes you make are your own, not Madeline sliding a little bit too far or a jump having to have too exact an angle. Just a single linear dash in the air opens up so many possibilities for design, but the biggest aspect is wall climbing. You can just hold on a wall for a second or climb up over the top of a ledge instead of having to be constantly jumping, and this makes long sections without ground or with difficult timing feel much more manageable.

Also the game has a strong emotional story, which is now commonplace in well-received indie games but is still a rarity in platformers. Go rescue the damsel, the end. In Celeste, you’re only fighting against nature and yourself.

Also the soundtrack is beautiful, ranging from apprehensive to reflective and tense to triumphant. First Steps is a great, memorable introductory theme. Capping things off, Reach for the Summit drives you to have to finish the game. And the b-sides remixes are nice reinterpretations of the tracks to match the reinterpretations of the levels they accompany.

Also, I’m using “Also” to start another point too much, so let’s also talk about some other games.

Quiplash

It’s a great party game that you can play with people who aren’t gamers!

The Jackbox Party Packs overall are great party games, and Quiplash is the best for people for whom the hardest part of the game will be correctly operating their phone to connect to the Jackbox server. Take this to holiday gatherings and play with family.

Ultra Fight da! Kyanta 2

The only fighting game that came out this year that I actually like. It’s extreme kusoge. Technically it came out last year on itch.io and I did play it back then, but it came to Steam and got more popular and people ran tournaments for it starting this year.

You have teams of up to three characters, groove selection per character, parries, walk-through crossups, normals with free air movement , extremely high damage and ridiculous supers, roman cancels, and all sorts of other character-specific degeneracy like jumping lows or unblockable projectiles that hit both players, and that all adds up to a very fun game.

Oh yeah, and it looks like it was made in Microsoft Paint.

Tetris

Tetris has been around for decades, but there’s always new ways to reinvent the game and I want to talk about 3 different ones I got into this year.

First, Puyo Puyo Tetris. It’s three games in one, and pretty much the standard for competitive modern tetris. Or modern Puyo. Or Swap Mode, which forces you to play both games alternating every 30 seconds, which is where the game really shines.

Then, there’s tetris effect, which is the best single-player tetris game around, at least the best available to buy normally. The Tetris the Grandmaster series is also great but only on arcade boards. Tetris Effect is the only tetris game where the graphics and soundtrack actually matter, because it’s a visual masterpiece and great game experience. However, it has no direct multiplayer at all.

Finally, if you really want multiplayer tetris but beating up to three other people at once in Puyo Puyo Tetris isn’t enough, there’s Tetris 99, the tetris battle-royale game. Because there’s basically no downtime in matches and you can start a new match almost immediately, it’s easy to play one more match for hours in this game.

These three games together are just many facets of one great game: Tetris

I also played a Tetris The Grandmaster arcade board for the first time this year. That’s another good tetris game, but even better was its full name: Tetris The Grandmaster 3: Terror Instinct. And VideoGameDunkey did a video on Tetris this year, that was great too. Tetris.

HM: Defunct

This game is great. However, it’s an HM because it’s only about an hour long with not a huge amount of extra stuff to do. But the replay value is still very high, because mastering time attacks or just moving with style is very fun. I’ve considered doing speedruns of this game, but only actually did a full (20-minute) run once.

HM: Catherine Classic

This is an HM because I have played the game before on PS3. I’ve entered tournaments for Catherine. But I never played the story mode or actually owned the game until it came to PC. This is a very unique puzzle game that is worth your time, and a type of story about actual long-term relationships that games don’t tell often. Yes, the story has character portrayals that are problematic, but most of the time that’s the point; most of the characters are kind-of awful and are unable to move beyond their past relationship issues.

 Books and other writing:

The Hero with 1000 Faces (1949)

This book is all about heroic myth around the world, and more specifically about how many myths worldwide have significant similarities. If you want a really in-depth look at the Hero’s Journey, this is your book.

This book is very well-known among writers and very easy to use to compare different works. George Lucas said it influenced Star Wars, so that’s something.

Mimusubi (Blog)

This is a blog by and Englishman who lives in Japan and works for a national Shinto organization. It is all about Shinto as a religion and its place in modern Japanese society. It’s an interesting read, although it ended up being entirely useless related to the research I was doing when I found it initially. I don’t frequently read blogs, so this is a weird entry on my best-of-the-year list.

Best Theater:

‘Romeos and Juliets’ by the machine lifeforms in the amusement park from Nier Automata So, I didn’t actually go to any plays and only one concert this year so I don’t have much to say about live performances, but this bizarre identity crisis misinterpretation of Romeo and Juliet is certainly entertaining (although quite short). And like all good stories within stories, it just maybe has a lot more to do with the overall plot than you would think.

This is really just another alternate way of putting in an Honorable Mention for Nier Automata, which is a good game, but I just have a lot of problems with the gameplay part of it that keeps it off my best games list. The ending is extremely strong, but it took me 30 hours to get there and its hard to ignore that significant portion of the game, especially when the actual gameplay part was often the least-interesting aspect.

Sorry if anyone was actually watching this for theater recommendations. Since I like things that are about theater so much (see Revue Starlight also being on my best-of list), you think I would actually get to more live theater like I have previous years. The one thing I went to was a performance of Dvorak’s New World Symphony, but again, I have nothing to say about that, I’d heard the piece before so it can’t even go in “best music” since it wasn’t a mind-blowing performance. I don’t know, maybe I should have just removed this section. If you want recommendations, watch Avenue Q I guess.

Best Credits Sequence:

Here, I found an award to give Nier: Automata.

Best Memes:

SA2 Realtime Fandub by SnapCube

I’ve come to make an announcement: Here’s one final thing from this list that was from 2018 but I didn’t find until a year later, but this one didn’t really blow up until then. Eggman pissing on the moon is the single biggest highlight of this hour-long epic, but it’s hilarious the whole way through and endlessly rewatchable. Sonic Adventure 2 is a perfect source for parody for so many reasons, but the improvised character dynamics here really highlight how absurd so much of the story is. Why is NASA there? Why is the camera zooming in? This is a must-watch if you loved SA2’s corniness, as long as you don’t mind some characters swearing like wounded sailors.

Places I discovered I want to visit:

Museum Meiji-mura

Here’s a new section for this year’s list that I probably won’t repeat!

A long time ago, in a country far, far away, Frank Lloyd Wright designed a hotel. Unfortunately, the hotel was in Tokyo, Japan. It survived the 1923 Tokyo Earthquake and World War Two, but did not survive the economic realities of being a low-rise structure in downtown Tokyo, one of the densest cities on the planet. It was replaced by a much larger hotel in the 70’s.

But, the entrance building was saved and rebuilt in Museum Meiji-mura, near Nagoya, and I absolutely want to visit there if I ever go to Japan, because it’s a large collection of architecturally historic buildings from Japan, and as a student of Architecture, that would be really cool to go see.

 That’s all for my list this year. I’m planning on making a video version of the list this year, but that won’t be done for a while.