#blogger watches stranger things

[samwilsonrights]

sometimes i feel like making a side-blog/twt account for the latest series im hyperfixating on but time and time again i find that people who make up the online fandom are some of the most unpleasant, contemptuous, and mean people you can find. like i don’t understand spending so much time being so hateful towards the piece of media you spend 14 hours a day tweeting/blogging about.

[megamindsecretlair]

So um I’m kinda obsessed with Aaron and that fic you just wrote kinda makes me feel like I’m going through withdrawals😂😂….. so um are we gonna get the part where he eats her like a full meal cause um yea (Love your writing btw❤️)

A/N: Not with that dynamic, anon, but how about this one??

Let Me Take Control

Pairing: Toxic!Neighbor!Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink sprinkled in, rough sex, persuasion, reader is able to be picked up, use of n-word, all consensual.

Summary: Your fine as hell neighbor, Terry, hits you up late at night with a text. Already knowing what’s ‘bout to go down, you invite him over and get yourself ready for an unforgettable night.

Word Count: 3,807k

AO3 Link

A/N: MISS HIMMMM. I watched Rebel Ridge for the (mindyabidness) time and I neeeeeeed him! WHEW! Ya'll blew my first fic up, and YALL. Don't make me cry with all your sweet words! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

That Munch: You up?

Your phone chimed and you flipped over in bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You opened the message to see a text from your fine ass neighbor, Terry. You popped up in bed, bouncing with the effort as you turned on the lamp.

Cool light flooded the room, taking mercy on your sleep deprived eyes. You pulled the bonnet off of your head and assessed your hair. It was currently coiled into a bun to keep it neat, but your braids were recent and still fresh. Good, you were gonna need that extra strength. 

You bit your lip as you texted back.

You: What’s up?

That Munch: Can’t sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat. Terry said the two magic words that got your blood thumping. Your core heating up to dangerous levels. You hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to freshen your breath and relieve yourself. 

You washed your hands and looked at yourself in the mirror. Terry’s brain needed to be studied. It was like he knew what you were missing without even having to ask. Or think about it. You were just tossing and turning in bed, sleep eluding you for the hundredth time. You were running through possible solutions when that little chime and those two words fell from the sky like a divine intervention. 

You texted back, feeling a little giddy that he was up and willing. You’d been like two ships passing in the fog lately. Always arriving or leaving a touch out of sync with each other. He would just be getting in the elevator when you left your apartment. He was just closing his door when you were emerging from yours.

And once inside, you usually kept contact to a minimum. Tried to put Terry into a box. Firmly in the neighbors with benefits column. He was too fine. Too hot. Too intense to ever be a regular thing. You couldn’t stand it. Looking at that man night and day? Please, you’d die. 

You paced the room in your oversized T-shirt and panties, biting your lip as you waited for the short trek through his apartment, out of his door, and the knock on yours. When it came, you skipped to the front door on a bed of nerves. Each footfall felt like lead and each heart beat felt like a stab in your chest.

You opened the door and leaned your head against it. “Hey stranger,” you said, keeping your cool around this man.

You were terrible at it, actually. Terry blinked those pretty electric eyes at you and entered your apartment. You closed the door behind him and locked the door, taking the time to admire his back side. He didn’t wear anything but some long joggers that cupped around his ankles. His ass was well rounded, looking good enough to bite. One side was slightly higher on his calf and for no reason at all, it was the hottest thing ever. 

He turned around and his eyes softened. “Were you sleep?” He asked. 

His voice alone sent shivers down your spine. On the inside, you were screaming. He was too damn hot to be real. He was like a marble statue made real. He moved with care. Purposeful. You shook your head and with it your thoughts. “You know that ain’t true,” you said.

“Why didn’t you text me?” He asked. He stepped closer, crowding into your space. The door was the only thing holding you up at the moment. He approached, stepping into your personal space. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his smooth skin. 

You shrugged. “‘Case you were busy. I came home late tonight,” you said.

Terry smirked and tilted his head. “Has that ever stopped us before?” He asked.

You shook your head. Terry bent his head down and kissed your cheek. You gasped, lips parting as he left behind tingles. Your breathing began to hurt your lungs, breathing too fast and too hard. He hadn’t even done anything yet. 

“You been tossing and turning when you know I’m right next door? Willing? Eager?” He asked. 

You shivered even though he was hot enough to fill the room. You kept your hands down at your sides. If you started touching him now, this would be over before it started. His shoulders were broad, honed, sculpted. His full lips glowed in the low ambient light in your living room. 

“Terry,” you said, more of a warning than a plea. This was why you didn’t call him. This was why your brain didn’t even give you that option. It always felt like you were taking advantage, knowing he wanted more and you continued to toy with his feelings.

It wasn’t on purpose. You truly couldn’t decide to take that ride with him or not. If you were ready to be with someone so grown. So in control. You were used to little fuckboys who played in your face. Who were bigger drama queens than you were and that shit didn’t fly.

But Terry? Terry was a different breed. Falling into his lap was almost an accident. You were smart enough to know your limits but dumb enough to toss them right out of the window. 

Terry took your hand and led you away from the door. You smiled at him as he moved without light to your bedroom. You supposed each layout of the apartments were about the same, with some variations. Did that mean his room shared a wall with your bathroom? The thought alone had you biting your lip picturing him all glistening wet. 

Inside your bedroom, Terry spun you around and pulled you against the nearest wall. He smirked at you and then he leaned down, bringing his lips to yours but not kissing you. You pouted when you caught up and looked at him.

“I missed you too,” he said. 

You took a deep breath and laughed. “I didn’t say that,” you said. 

“You were thinking it,” he said. He blinked slowly, lips touching but not completely. You couldn’t feel the full weight of them and you leaned forward, trying to close that distance. Terry leaned out of the way at the last minute, making you grunt.

“You want to fall asleep or not?” You asked, sucking your teeth. Trying to hide how turned on you were. How needy. You could feel your slick leaking out of you and you just needed some damn friction.  

Terry’s eyes narrowed. His hand slipped around your throat with such ease, you didn’t even feel him moving. “Who you think you talkin’ to like that?” He asked. 

You moaned, eyes crossing at the slight pressure. “You got an attitude with me?” He asked.

You tried to shake your head. Ah, shit. It was one of those nights. You moaned even though you shook your head again. You didn’t mean to get him riled up so quickly. 

“You sure? You talkin’ real reckless for someone who want they pussy licked, huh?” He asked. He squeezed your neck and you threw your head back, placing a hand on his chest. You couldn’t take it. You were on fire. Licks of flame made its way through your veins. 

“I’m sorry!” You moaned. 

Terry chuckled and finally kissed you, bringing you forward by his grip on your throat. “You lucky I’m just hungry tonight.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Terry released your neck and dropped to his knees. He was still tall as hell, so it didn’t really look like he knelt. The look in his eyes at this angle had you sighing. He didn’t have a merciful bone in his body. Even on his knees, looking up to you, he looked defiant.  Challenging. Like he wanted you to fight him because he knew that he’d win. 

Terry’s big, strong hands came around to cup your ass. He separated your ass cheeks, giving it a full squeeze, before releasing. Your ass jiggled and Terry hummed and kissed your belly. 

“When you gon’ stop playing with me?” He asked. 

You cupped his cheek and scratched at his beard. He closed his eyes and hummed, a deep rumbling in his chest. Almost like he was purring. 

“Not now, Terry,” you said. You were too lost in the sauce. Too lost in the depth of those eyes. Swirls of brown and blue and green, like he contained the world in them. You’d agree to anything right now and he didn’t need to know that.

Terry lifted your shirt, kissing all over your stomach. He left fat, wet kisses on your skin. You ran your nails across his fade, filling the slight ripples. His hair was coarse, feeling like heaven against the palm of your hand. Terry moved lower and pulled your leg over his shoulder. 

He pushed your panties to the side, taking a deep breath and moaned. “Smell so fuckin’ good,” he said. His tongue darted out and licked you from entrance to clit. You yelped and collapsed against him, leaning all of your weight on him.

Terry hummed, purred, and placed a hand on your belly and pushed. You fell back against the cold wall, yelping from the shock of it. Terry kept one arm under your leg, supporting your hip from the back. His other flattened across your belly, pushing you against the wall and stabilizing you.

“I was laying in my bed, trynna think of what would make me go to sleep. And then, I started thinking about this pretty pussy,” he said. He began to eat you out and talk through it, dragging his lips. He spoke these words into your pussy like he was writing affirmations into your skin with his tongue. 

“About how you get so wet, so quick. My favorite is when you start leaking down your leg,” he said. At the end of the sentence, he sucked on your clit and you cried out, gripping his shoulders and trying to push. He held you down, held you open, while he purred.

“I like knowing you get so needy, you can’t help it. You’d fuck anything nearby, wouldn’t you?” He cooed into your pussy. 

Your teeth chattered as he licked and prodded at your entrance, gathering up your essence, and suckling it all down. He moved back up to your clit, playing with the swollen nub with the tip of his tongue. You shivered against him and he moved with you, dodging your attempts to turn to mush in his arms. 

“And then I started thinking, hmmm, I need that. I need to bust down that throat. Or maybe save this load for this pussy. She look hungry,” he said, moving his lips between your folds. 

“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned. The fire he started went straight to your lower belly, clenching painfully as you neared an orgasm. Why was it so difficult to maintain a cool exterior with this man? In no time at all, he already had you screaming to the heavens. Screaming for any neighbors to hear that he was hand delivering pleasure.

His hand squeezed your ass and you moaned, biting your lip painfully. His lips began smacking, suckling on your clit and releasing it with a loud smack. Your clit throbbed, uselessly clenching around nothing. 

“Please, Terry, oh god, please, please,” you begged. 

“Keep begging, baby, shit turns me on,” he said, repeatedly suckling your clit. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, finally letting the climax take over. You shook and shivered, flopping against the wall and turning boneless. Terry kept up with your flopping, chuckling evilly as he continued to eat you out while you spasmed on him. 

“That’s it. That’s it, beautiful. Let all that shit go,” he whispered into your pussy. You didn’t know how you heard him. Perhaps he was just that good. Just that in control. That deep voice was lower than sin as he whispered against your clit, rolling his tongue. 

You looked down at him and his eyes snapped to yours. Eyes soft. Pretty ass eyelashes. He was perfect. Too perfect. Your body stopped flopping and you panted, huffed, as you came down. Terry slowed his tongue against your clit, flattening his tongue against and making you jerk. 

His heavy breaths fanned across your pussy and you moaned, writhing against him. “Fuck, Terry,” you said. 

Terry kissed your thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He continued up to your belly, lifting your shirt with his head and he came up further. Your leg slid from his shoulder down to his  side, and wrapped around his leg as he stood up. 

He gripped your chin and pulled you into a kiss. You smelled and tasted yourself on him, your slick on his beard. You moaned, turning the kiss nasty as you played with each other’s tongues. 

Terry broke the kiss and smirked at you as he hooked his thumbs into your panties and tore them from your legs. 

“Hey!” You yelled, slapping his shoulder. Terry smirked, licked his lips, and stuffed the panties into your mouth. You smelled your arousal, your essence, and you moaned. 

“You like it,” he said with a shrug. 

You rolled your eyes, lifting your hand to pull your panties out. Terry snatched your wrist, pulling it above your head. Before you could lift the other, he snatched that one too. He kept both in one hand, and then stuffed your panties further into your mouth. 

“When you gon’ say yes and let me play in these guts whenever I want?” He asked.

You groaned and closed your eyes to the onslaught of pleasure. His voice found your off switch, making your brain fritz out over hearing his words. “Not now, Terry,” you said, voice muffled by the panties. 

You breathed harshly through your nose, rubbing yourself against him. He was so tall, so big, so thick. 

“Why not now?” Terry asked, nudging his nose against yours. He kissed the corners of your mouth, kissing your jaw below your ear, and then nibbling on your earlobe. 

He used his free hand to lift you on top of him and you wrapped your legs around his waist. His impressive bulge slotted between your legs and you moaned, rubbing yourself against him. Fuck, he made you needy. Wanton. Like you truly grew dumb, replaced with nothing but your baser instincts. To fuck. To grind. To toot your ass in the air and let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever he asked for. 

“What’s holding you back from me? From this? From fucking you in the morning, fucking you at night, in between meals when I need to get inside you. I know you feel this too,” he said. He moved his joggers down, exposing his huge dick. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, rubbing against him. Your pussy smacked as he tapped his tip against your pussy. 

“She nice and loud tonight,” he said. 

Your legs shook as Terry moved his dick through your folds, getting the tip of him wet before pushing in.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the wall. He was so big. “Fuck, fill me up, fill me up.” 

Terry groaned as he pushed inside, rolling his hips to sink inside. To bury his shaft deep and touch a that part inside. The part only he could touch. You tried going on dates with other guys. You tried convincing Terry and yourself that you were for the streets. Wasn’t no nigga gon’ play ‘round you no more. 

But they all fell short. They all were measured against Terry and were found lacking. Incomplete. With a look, Terry could have you whining and fucking yourself on him like a horny dog. 

“You could have this whenever you want,” he said. He began to stroke, proving that what came before were merely foreplay. He snapped his hips, pumped his arms and slammed you on his dick. 

You moaned and grunted on his dick, crying, shaking, gripping onto him for dear life. He was the only one capable of delivering this type of pleasure. He leaned down and buried his nose into your neck, absently kissing you. Licking the rapid pulse in your neck. 

“Terry, please, not-now,” you moaned. You didn’t know if he knew what you were saying considering the gag. Every inhale brought a fresh wave of your scent to your nostrils and you moaned. His moans mingled with yours, sliding more easily inside of you as your essence flooded his dick. 

“Say yes, baby, say yes. Say yes for me. Say yes for Daddy,” he said, snapping his hips faster.

He fucked you furiously against the wall, slamming inside of you while placing tender kisses against your neck. Under your ear. Moving along your jaw. He clamped his teeth down on your panties and pulled it from your mouth. He leaned down and kissed you. Kissing those sweet lips. Playing with his rough tongue. His mouth was a gift from God himself. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his hands to your ass and smacked it, causing the sound to echo in your bedroom. “Oh fuck, Terry!” 

Terry smacked your ass again. “What you s’posed to call me?” He asked.

He dropped you against his dick, pouding against that deep spot inside of you. The pitch of your moans changed, turning higher and faster. Coming quicker than you can breathe. 

“There it is. But you gon’ have to earn this second nut,” he said.

You pushed feebly against his shoulders. Not to get rid of him but you needed some kind of release. Something to make the pressure pop. You forced yourself to breathe, to gulp in air. 

“Please, Daddy,” you moaned, turning wet, glistening eyes to him. 

A tear escaped your eye and Terry licked it off of your cheek. He purred, dick throbbing inside of you. 

“Be good for me and say yes. Say yes to getting dicked down every night. On demand,” he said.

“I can’t,” you moaned, shaking your head back and forth. 

He found a good rhythm, hitting your spot and making you moan every time he did it. Sweet, musical moans that sounded good even to your own ears. He was fucking you too well, had you clutching onto his neck. His thighs were like steel, effortlessly holding you and slapping against your ass. 

“Sure you can, you wanna cum, right? That’s why you opened the door for me? That’s why you’ll always open the door for me? ‘Cause you know I dig this shit out right. You know you can’t find another nigga ready to treat you like this. Give you what you need. What you crave. Like a good little fuckin’ slut,” he said.

He abruptly pulled out of you. “No!” You screamed. 

Terry chuckled as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down, pushing your shirt up enough for him to see your titties. 

He spread your legs wide and slid back inside you like he never left. He rutted inside you, increasing his pace now that he didn’t have to support your weight. He was relentless, moving his hand up to rub your clit.

Your thighs snapped shut, trapping his hand. “Open that shit back up. Now!” He barked.

You whimpered and whined as you fought against your body, opening your legs even though you wanted to stall him. Hold him off. “Move that hand before I move it for you,” he said.

You sniffled, hot all over and sweaty all over. You moved your hand, lowering it to the covers and grabbing a handful. “Fuck! Please, Daddy!” You moaned. 

Terry pushed your legs until they were practically at your chest. He slapped your ass a few times. Each slap was worse than the last, lighting your ass up like a Christmas tree. 

You yelled out, cried out, pleaded with him while he continued to smack your ass and dig in your guts. You felt him deep inside, throbbing, pulsing. 

“Please, give meeee,” you moaned. 

Terry chuckled. He flicked his thumb against your pussy, your slick making your pussy sound louder. Wetter. 

“Hear how she sings? You gon’ take this dick and still lie to my face?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not-lie,” you huffed. Fuck, you were close. You were so close. You clutched at the covers, at the sheets, clawed at anything close by. 

“You want that shit, then you say the magic words. I’m tired of waitin’,” he said. 

You sniffled. Aw hell. There was no use fighting anymore. It was clear that Terry was the only one for you. He was the only one who knew exactly what to do, what to say. He was a man. All over. 

You leaned on your elbows and stared in his face. “Fuck me, Daddy, like I’m yours. ‘Cause I am,” you said. 

“You mine?” He asked, grinning wide and stealing your breath away. Fuck, he was so pretty. So beautiful. 

You nodded. “I’m yours,” you said.

“This pussy mine, too?” He asked. He pressed on your clit and you moaned loudly. You lifted your hips, needing him to do that shit again. He obliged, pressing on your throbbing clit. 

“Yes, Daddy, all yours,” you agreed. You’d agree to steal the moon for him if he would just let you cum. If he would grant his permission. 

“Good, then cum on this dick like a good slut,” he said. He kissed you, changing the angle of his hips and snapping against your sweet spot. You came instantly, legs shaking, pussy gripping him tightly.

“That’s it. Squeeze that fuckin’ dick,” he moaned against your lips. He palmed your tits, kneading, pinching your nipples and making you grip him even tighter. 

“Make me feel that,” he cooed as he thrust one more time and exploded inside you. His pulsing cum painted your walls white. 

Terry moaned, face falling into bliss as he came. He was even more beautiful like this. Undone. Unleashed. Untethered to that iron clad control of his. He scrunched his face up, like it felt too good. Too amazing.

“Ohh, good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” he moaned, kissing your forehead. You huffed, panting, sweating. Your skin turned clammy, the pressure gone from earlier. 

Your pussy squelched as Terry softened, pulling out of you. His cum gushed out, leaking down your ass and onto the bed. Terry kept your legs spread, watching as he leaked out of you. 

“Tomorrow night. Me and you. Date night. Then back here so I can fuck your brains out,” he huffed. He kissed your forehead and then pulled you into a sitting position. 

He caressed your chin and you fell forward, placing your forehead against his sculpted chest. “Yes, Daddy,” you said and kissed his belly.

“There’s my girl,” he said. 

There's more Terry! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[kaypeace21]

(no need to post if this is too much) but I just wanted to thank you!! your theories and analyses was basically what got me to watch stranger things in the first place and finally give the "netflix child actor eggo tv show" a chance. i feel (i suspect) very similarly about the show and how i want to engage with it as you do and have also taken a big step back from the fandom, but i'll always think of your will and el analyses especially so fondly. even now, i'll see "new" theories float around and remember reading them on your blog in 2022. not sure what else to say except thank you again - i really, truly don't think i would've given the show a chance without stumbling onto your page <3

@fireflywitch That’s so kind of you. I always love getting these type of sentimental messages. So I hope my followers aren’t afraid to message me . I think in these times we need to try and have more positivity and hope on the internet. Sorry if I’m being way too sappy . Recently, I had to admit all the messed up stuff that happened to me as a kid (that I blocked out) and I felt weirdly better after . Like a weight off of me. Sorry off topic , back to you and my followers. Honestly , the reason I started the blog in the first place was to find people who saw the show like I did : who had similar pain and saw what most of the general audience didn’t seem to notice . So I don’t mind the “new theories “ stuff as much as I used to . I'm glad people are seeing the symbolism now (and it's not just me and a few other "crazy bloggers") . Hopefully the show has an uplifting message (in its conclusion).

For anyone who is too scared to post or make analyses of something you enjoy … because you’re afraid you’ll be wrong or ridiculed. 1) it’s ok to be wrong . 2) Remember anyone can gain “Media literacy” (and it’s a skill that you can get better at with time). Some of you may have great media literacy but simply don’t realize it !

Media literacy = seeing 2 things at the same time . Aka [the literal “story” on the surface ] + the “plot” ( themes, allegories, foreshadowing , characterization, symbolism, personification, etc) .

Also for anyone who wants to analyze media remember repeated words or phrases are usually important in any media cause at the end of the day writers LOVE word puns 🤣. The writer is usually giving you a huge clue in the narrative when you hear or see repetitive words, symbols etc .

I had media literacy with books as a kid , but it wasn’t until college (with time & great lit and writing teachers) did I start to see tv, film, video games , and animation all had the same “writing conventions” to books . But they also have their own unique additional rules as well (like music, background details, clothing , lightening, food symbolism, etc to tell the audience something important ). I got better at analyzing to the point it feels innate to me now - and most of you can learn to analyze like me (or already do analyze well) :)

[hellspace-of-random]

TL;DR: Do not harrass random Jewish people, remember to say you are anti-war/genocide instead of anti-Zionist, do not deny the recent rise in antisemitism and remember to talk to your organisers/fellow protestors about antisemitism.

I feel like the time has come for a reminder to everyone in the Pro-Palestine movement, including myself, to be careful with our language and slogans. I say this as someone who will continue to advocate for an end to the genocide and for Palestine's freedom despite the issues I wish to raise.

First things first- please stop asking/harrassing random Jewish people online or irl for their opinion on Israel, especially if you do not do this with non-Jewish people. Example: the US government is known for gun control issues. Would you ask random American strangers about their opinions on gun control unprompted? The Chinese government is known for homophobia issues. Would you ask every random Chinese blogger you find about their opinion on gay rights because 'you can't figure out if they're pro-gay or not'? If answering yes to either of those makes you unfairly prejudicial, don't do the same thing to Jewish people about Palestine. Hate the current Israeli government, not the random Jewish person down the street trying to live their life.

Secondly- I think most of us thus far have identified as anti-Zionists. However, from what I understand, 'Zionism' has many meanings, including the Jewish right to protection and self-determination, and DOES NOT equal support for the current Israeli government's actions. The anti-zionist movement also started from a place of wanting to stop a Jewish country from forming so Jewish people would be easier to kill, not for any humanitarian reasons. All I will say moving forward is that I am anti-war and anti-genocide, and I believe that expresses where I stand clearly enough.

I believe the Jewish people at the rallys I attended saying that they didn't experience antisemitism as a result of October 7. HOWEVER, the world is a very fractured place and I also believe that while antisemitism was rampant before, the number of people using Palestine as an excuse to be antisemitic is increasing and Jewish people are becoming increasingly at risk. Denying the increase in antisemitism in recent months is not helpful; we must show that there are ways to be pro-Palestine without antisemitism by rooting out the people using us as a shield, and calling problems out where we see them.

From what I can tell, BOTH Palestinians and Jewish people have indigenous roots in Levant. Palestinians have the right to stay there and live peacefully, and Jewish people have that same right for the same reason. All we should want is the occupying forces and its supporters to leave Palestine so they have space to breathe and rebuild. Ordinary citizens, Jewish or not, should not be affected. Assuming every Jewish person is a supporter is antisemitic, and arguing for the dismantling of ONLY Israel without mind to any of the other hundreds of countries (some having also committed genocide) on Earth is also antisemitic. Either Israel (with a change in government that is controlled by Jewish people) stays, or the entire world should be borderless and the US, the UK, China, etc should also be dismantled.

In sum, what the current Israeli government is doing is wrong. It is enacting violence with intent to destroy Palestine, by definition a genocide, and ignored multiple peace treaty attempts and orders to stop. However, when you go to rallies, please watch the language and slogans your organiser is using. If there's anything you think might be suspicious (a good test is would it sound right if 'Israel' was replaced by another nation with terrible practices like US or China. and obviously if it mentions Jewish people outright don't use it), ask your organiser to stop using that phrase. Talk to your fellow protestors so they can add their voices to yours.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, and only the things that I, a non-Jewish person, have been made aware of. The best we can all do is listen to both Jewish and Palestinian people, think critically, and make judgement calls when we see them. Freeing Palestine is important, but so is protecting the marginalised people around us. None of us is free until all of us are free!

[mikeslawyer]

STOP THIS IS SO FUNNY ya’ll byler bloggers will love this... so me and my cousin were talking about how Noah Schnapp iconically came out via TikTok while playing a canonically gay character, and our other cousin's bf (who has never watched an episode of Stranger Things) was like "Oh cool that’s the guy from the snapping meme right? The dude that walks up, snaps, and the screen changes?" We were both like "No thats Finn Wolfhard this is a different guy" AND WITHOUT HESITATION he says "Oh thats cool I didn’t know there were two gay characters on the show" HE THOUGHT MIKE WAS THE GAY CHARACTER.. The fact that he’s never even watched the show either and had Mike clocked as the canonically gay character without question is absolutely hysterical- At most he’s seen maybe a couple edits on TikTok

mike gay icon. let’s hope for his sake will loves him back because all these devoted looks would go to waste

[will80sbyers]

STOP THIS IS SO FUNNY ya’ll byler bloggers will love this... so me and my cousin were talking about how Noah Schnapp iconically came out via TikTok while playing a canonically gay character, and our other cousin's bf (who has never watched Stranger Things) was like "Oh cool that’s the guy from the snapping meme right? The dude that walks up, snaps, and the screen changes?" We were both like "No thats Finn Wolfhard this is a different guy" AND WITHOUT HESITATION he says "Oh thats cool I didn’t know there were two gay characters on the show" HE THOUGHT MIKE WAS THE GAY CHARACTER.. The fact that he’s never even watched the show either and had Mike clocked as the canonically gay character without question is absolutely hysterical- At most he’s seen maybe a couple edits on TikTok XD

Lmaooo your friend caught more things than the redditors, the fruitiness is there for sure

[theofficialdeannawinchester]

How I joined Tumblr

Storytime

I am bored

Welcome to my fandom realm!

I been reflecting on a Friday evening, and updating my blog.

Funny thing is I had a very old blog on tumblr I created when I was 14 in December 2015 it was a TMNT 2012 fan blog one of my sisters help me create it

I now have a new TMNT 2012 blog that is my side blog called @therealmoftmnt2012 @westanleotmnt2012 @tmnt2012mikeyfangirl

I created during TMNT 2012 space arc.

I am still a TMNT fan currently honestly I will be a TMNT fan until I die

The love is indefinite

My profile picture was this from my old blog I remember

It was called icecreamkittymisty.tumblr.com

It currently no longer exist

I then deleted the blog in circa 2016 or around 2017 and took a break from tumblr in general

I was offline from the internet for a very long time then created my social media profiles in 2018 and 2019 respectively

Here is Mikey and Ice Cream Kitty

The Misty pename came from for my love for the Pokémon tv series

Misty was my favorite character

By 2018 arrived, I decided it best to be 𝕄𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕕om ��𝕝𝕠𝕘 based instead and created my blog via here

Also I become a Supernatural fan in late 2015 started watching the show in late 2017

I created my blog on January 1, 2018 literally on New Years Day 2018

I was intrigued then to return on social media permanently

Since as time pass I am actively currently into participating more then one fandom

I am a 𝕄𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕕om fanfiction writer on a03 please review, send kudos and read my fanfiction when you have the time

My a03 account is PrincessShuri16

I also recently upload a new chapter of Mutants and Monsters with my longtime online friend, 𝕄𝕦𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕕om fan fiction writer Kawaii Ninja who is my writing collaborative for this TMNT 2012 and Strangers Things Crossover event story

It fun story please send love toward Mutants and Monsters we both work hard on this story please check it out when you have the time. 💜✨

I hope you my fellow bloggers have a wonderful weekend!!!

💜✨💫

Random thoughts edit: it was this profile↖️

[piedpiperslists]

Jungkook Series (XXVII)

* ² - two shots s - contains smut

Birds by @listlesslibrarian s doctor!Jungkook, travel blogger!reader, strangers to lovers Summary: In Jungkook’s world, stability is key. He knows exactly what is expected of him as head doctor of Seoul’s ER Unit. He eats at the same cafe every Saturday. He spends his free time with the same six guys and watches the same movies so he doesn’t have to stress about the endings. But when an unfortunate collision lands him at your bedside in his ER unit, his stable world shifts.

The Come and Find Me Duology ² by @byzantiumshades s angst, FWB Summary: Love. Jeongguk associates it with lack of freedom, countless problems, and useless sacrifice of oneself. But you, you make him feel things he has never felt before, make him do things he has never done before. One night obviously isn’t enough to change his beliefs, but can it be a turning point for his portrayal of love? Or is there more to that than he wants to admit?

Mirrors by @yoonia s FWB Summary: Is it worth it to fall for someone who has never revealed the true content of his heart?

Gold Rush by @venusiangguk s established relationship, college au, PWP Summary: JK comes back from a weekend away and he wants to show you just how much he missed you.

Cable Management [pt2] [pt3] [pt4] [pt5] by @19pancakes s strangers to lovers Summary: Your job is more hassle than it’s worth. Horrible layouts, even worse cable management and to top it all off… there’s extremely rude (and hot and weirdly cool?) men staring at your ass in the hallway. You’re also hungry.

[megamindsecretlair]

If I Took You Home, Part 2

Pairing: Dom!Kevin Atwater x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Food porn. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing, masterbation (male), fingering (female receiving), cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. D/s dynamics.

Summary: Your friends were all in relationships so that meant it was time to bug you about your singledom. Your blind date went a little too well. You expected the magic of the night to give away to clarity in the morning. You didn't know if you were breaking some kind of one night stand rules by spending the night. You try to sneak out undetected, but Kevin only proves that he knows how to wear us down.

Word Count: 7,041k

AO3 Link | Part 1

A/N: Hello, my loves. This was long, long, long overdue! I wanted to finish this yesterday. Ah well, what a sweet lullaby muahaha. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @amethyst09 @ciaqui @harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @twocentuar @westside-rot @yaachtynoboat711 @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @bigsisbria @babybratzmaraj @darqchilddaydreamz @pinkpantheris @blackerthings @awerkofart @longpause-awkwardsmile @palmstreesallday @thadelightfulone @judymfmoody @eggnox @playgurlxoxo @shesstillshyy @multiversefanfics @tvchi

Some things became clearer in the light of day. As wakefulness encroached upon the sweet lullaby of sleep, you blinked your eyes sleepily at the unfamiliar room. Panic made your heartbeat increase as you tried to remember where the fuck you were.

You shifted on the bed, a particular ache between your legs making you wince. Oh yeah. Memories flooded you of every single nasty thing you did last night and let this virtual stranger do to you. The way he commanded, demanded, and delivered. It brought heat to your cheeks as you tried to think of how you could explain your night without breaking into song and dance.

Sex that good had to warrant a little bit of razzle dazzle right? A little bit of jazz hands. A little bit ohmygodwhencanwedothatagain?!

Kevin snored gently beside you and you half turned in the bed to watch him. He looked damn good up close and in repose. He had long eyelashes that rested against his cheeks. Juicy lips that puckered in his sleep. He slept on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his chest. His massive arms curled adorably beneath him. 

In the light of the morning, or afternoon, whenever it was, your nerves came screaming back. What was the protocol here? You’d never done anything like this and you were completely out of your element. Was it awkward to stay? Was it awkward to leave? 

He asked you to stay, sure, but what if he changed his mind? You needed time and space to think. Preferably away from the sight and smell of him. It only served to confuse you. Get you thinking about forever, when this was only supposed to be something fun. 

You felt like you should leave. Maybe it was you being nervous or those manners your grandmother beat into your head. You didn’t necessarily want to leave Kevin, but you didn’t want to make him go through the whole song and dance of exchanging numbers just because you slept over. Then wait by the phone for a thousand years before you finally catch on that he asked for your number out of a sense of duty rather than any actual interest.

Been there, done that. To hell with your friends. If they felt awkward because they were booed up and you were not, that was strictly a “them” problem. You took slow, measured breaths as you extricated yourself from the tangle of Kevin’s sheets and the warmth of his body. It was like sleeping next to a damn furnace. 

You stuck one leg out of the bed and immediately snatched it back with a tiny yelp. It was freezing in his apartment! You looked back at Kevin to determine if your squeak woke him up. His cute face scrunched up but he returned to snoring. Your heart was hammering out of your chest. You felt like you were sneaking out after putting your hand in the cookie jar. 

You looked towards the ceiling and took a few more breaths to calm yourself down. You stuck your foot back out, freezing cold air raising goosebumps on your leg. 

You slid out of the bed and worried that Kevin would wake up and see your not so flexible acrobatics to get out of his huge bed. You already had to hop a little to climb out. You hopped from foot to foot as your feet touched the freezing ground. 

It was bad enough Chicago was one of the coldest places you’d ever been. The way he kept his apartment, you might as well be standing on the top of Mount Everest. Your hair was probably a mess. Your breath worse. You cupped your hand to your mouth to check. Not terrible but could be better.

You inwardly groaned as you hunted for your clothes. Last night’s game of undressing from room to room lit up in your mind’s eye. Rolling waves of heat rolled down your spine as you remembered the look in his eyes. You smirked as you found your panties finally and then your bra in the bathroom. 

You hunted through the apartment, gathering all of your things and your heels. You placed everything on the back of his couch so that you could get dressed in peace. No sooner had you stuck one leg through your undies, did a deep voice clear itself behind you.

You yelped, spinning around to see Kevin leaning into the doorway. His eyes were half mast, sleepy, and he looked adorable rubbing his eyes. He leaned on one arm, his hip dipped as he leaned against the frame. Naked as sin and twice as fucking hot with his dick soft against his thigh.

“No goodbye kiss?” He asked.

“You fucking scared me!” You screamed. Your heart was already in your damn throat from sneaking about. Getting caught by Kevin somehow felt worse. 

Kevin smirked at you. “Still waiting on that kiss,” he said. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and looked at him. You wanted to be the cool one here. The levelheaded one. No, your world was not rocked last night. No, you weren’t hearing wedding bells in your head already. 

Kevin crooked his finger, beckoning you closer. The deep, subconscious desire to be commanded immediately obeyed, walking closer to him before you knew what the hell you were doing. Kevin watched you walk closer, not moving until you were close in front of him. Naked as the day you were born. 

He used that same finger to lift your chin and look at him in the eyes. He stared for a moment, long enough to make you feel nervous. But all he did was look. “Do you want to go home? Did I scare you last night?” 

“What? N-No!” You stumbled over your words, emphatically shaking your head. Oh god. He couldn’t possibly think you were leaving because of him? You shook your head again. “No, no, I swear.” 

Kevin lifted an eyebrow. “Why are you running then?” He asked.

You scoffed. “I’m not running,” you said and rolled your eyes. You were a grown adult. You didn’t run from anything, least of all the likes of Kevin Atwater. 

Kevin playfully frowned and looked from you to the pile of clothes on his couch. When he looked back at you, you giggled and crossed your arms. “Maybe, I just wanted my dress off the floor.” 

Kevin looked at you. “Maybe I was burning up underneath all your damn body heat.” You laughed but quickly stopped when you noticed that Kevin wasn’t laughing with you. 

“I had a fantastic night last night. Did you?” He asked. 

You nodded. Fantastic wasn’t even the right word. What would be better? Amazing? Mind-blowing? Phenomenal? Hell, the word you needed hadn’t been invented yet. “Incredible,” you finally agreed. 

“So what are you really doing?” He asked. 

Claire didn’t mention that he was a damn mind reader. You looked at him and sighed. “I wanted to give you a smooth out, in case…” you shrugged. Fuck, this was hard. Why was this hard? “In case you changed your mind.” 

Kevin nodded. “I’m pretty sure I promised a few things I still wanted to do with you today. We just met yesterday, but I think we really have something here. If I’m wrong, let me know.” 

“You’re not wrong. I feel comfortable with you,” you said. Mushy ass feelings just wasn’t your jam. But you had to pull on your big girl pants and give it straight. “I get in my head sometimes. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to keep this going if all you wanted was booty last night.” 

“If all I wanted was some ass, I could get that day in and out. I want you. Do you want me?” He asked. 

No hesitation. You nodded. “Very much so.” You smiled and he smiled back. 

“Good. Is there anything you want to talk about last night? Anything you didn’t like?” He asked. He grabbed your hand with his and pulled you closer. You looked down at your entwined hands, loving the absolute pretty picture you two painted. The joining of two brown hands like branches of the same tree. 

Your eyes also clued in to the length of his dick, getting harder by the moment. You’d seen him fully erect, he wasn’t there yet. But it was damn close. “Honestly? No fucking notes at all.” You snickered as you remembered last night. God. It was like he reached into your head and read every single filthy thought that flittered across your mind. 

When was the last time you felt like that with your partner? Probably never. You never felt comfortable handing your pleasure to a man. They never fucking listened. You could be moaning, “don’t stop”, over and over and they took that as a clue to stop what they were doing. Or they began fingering you and got mad when you coached them on what you liked. The bar was truly in hell. 

Kevin smiled. “I always want your honesty. Anything you wish I did different?” He asked. His fingers slowly stroked the back of your hand, playing with your fingers. How could he make something so mundane be the hottest thing ever? 

With each glide of his thumbs on your skin, your legs tingled and your belly flipped. That inner sex demon stretched like a lazy cat inside of you. One touch. One look. You were down bad for Kevin Atwater. If he’d let you, this sexy ass man wouldn’t be able to breathe without you. 

You shook your head. “Remember when I said it was bad out here?” You asked.

Kevin nodded his head. “That was putting it mildly. I have enough horror stories to fill a library with the fucking audacity of men these days. I’m not saying you’re perfect, because I don’t want you to get a big head. But it’s truly, truly mind-boggling how no one has trapped you in a marriage or a baby. ‘Cause?” You fanned yourself for extra dramatics. 

Kevin laughed, a full throaty laugh that came from deep in his soul. You could listen to him laugh for the rest of your life and never get sick. 

“Ain’t nobody trap me ‘cause momma ain’t raise no fool,” he said. “But okay. I want to let you know that you are perfect.”

You pushed at his solid chest, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious. You bring out something in me. Something I’d like to explore more.” He licked his lips and looked at you up and down. 

He had to be doing this on purpose. Turning up his charm to a thousand and ten. You couldn’t take it. He was too fine. Too hot. Quite literally chiseled by the gods. He couldn’t be real and yet he was standing right in front of you, telling you that you were perfect. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

You nodded. “I’d like to explore it too.”

“So no running?” He asked.

You grinned. “I was not running!” Liar, liar. Kevin tilted his head. You rolled your eyes and fought a grin, not successfully. “No running.”

Kevin nodded his head. He seemed to change right before your eyes. Turning from easy, sleepy, and relaxed right back to the man who was in charge last night. He stood up straighter. No longer leaning against the door frame, he reminded you with a simple action that he was tall. And big. A man. 

Your breathing caught in your throat as your heart began beating faster. Your fingers tingled. He inspected you from head to foot, took in your stance, took in your nakedness. You should be nervous about him seeing you, but you were being truthful earlier. You really did feel comfortable with him. Like you’d known him far longer than just one day. 

He clasped his hands behind his back and raised his chin, looking down at you. His eyes looked half closed from this position and you knew to interpret this as a warning. “I’m glad you said that. Because now, we have to talk about how you denied me the pleasure of waking you up with my tongue,” he said. 

You rubbed your thighs together and swallowed painfully. Your mouth dropped open in a surprised smirk, tongue rubbing against one of your teeth. Damn. What the hell did you say to something like that? 

You thought you had been playing in the big leagues with your level of nasty. Kevin showed you in so many subtle ways that you were playing with weak ass men before. Men who thought they owned something if money was involved. Whether it’s gifts, dinner, or quality time. Kevin just naturally oozed a lot of that masculinity that made you so attracted to men in the first place. 

“I went to bed dreaming about what you’d taste like fresh in the morning. Of how you’d look when you woke up to an orgasm. That little bit of surprise,” Kevin said. He closed his eyes briefly and bit his bottom lip as if he were recalling the dream at the moment.

He stalked closer to you. Instinctively, you began to back away. He looked like a man on a mission. A deviousness played in his warm brown eyes as he looked at your body like he wanted to gnaw on you like a dog with a bone. 

He took a deep, deep breath and let it go in one long sigh. “The things I was finna do to you in that bed.” He shook his head like he mourned the lost moment. 

“I’m sorry! We can go lay back down?” You asked. You continued to back away from his advancing form. Both scared and horny, you mentally kicked yourself. If you weren’t careful, you could get sucked into the vortex of Kevin Atwater. You weren’t entirely sure that was a bad thing. 

Kevin shook his head. “Naw, don’t work like that. Bad girls get punished,” he said. A downright wicked gleam entered his eyes with that comment. He reached out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you towards the couch. He sat down with you in front of him, in between his legs. 

Out of the protection of his body, the cold air hit you once more in full force. It battled with the natural heat of your body, leaving you in a push and pull of dueling temperatures. Your nipples beaded from desire and from the cold air, practically poking out in invitation. 

“I wasn’t bad,” you pouted. Sure punishment sounded fun, but you wanted what he promised last night. 

“I was gonna run you a bath, get you all nice and soapy and wet and…” He let the thought drift away as he tugged you to kneel before him. The soft rug by his couch was padded enough that you didn’t think you’d get rug burn, depending on what he had planned. 

“And what?” You asked. Your pussy clenched. Fuck, that sounded amazing. Getting all soaped up with Kevin, washing each other down, playing in the water. You got a full tour of his apartment and knew that his shower was big enough for his ass. It would fit the both of you comfortably. You needed it. 

Kevin smirked and grabbed his dick, stroking himself as he looked at you. You leaned forward, licking your lips. He was fully erect now. Thick and veiny, long. You licked your lips again, wondering what he tasted like.

“Hands behind your back,” he said. His voice grew rougher as he tugged on his meat and adjusting himself on the couch. 

You obeyed, putting your hands behind your back and grabbing your forearms. Your eyes never left his dick. His big hand gripped himself way harder than what you were ever comfortable with. Precum leaked from his tip. He gathered some of it on his thumb and swirled it around his tip. 

You moaned softly, watching him, mesmerized. Your grip on your forearms slackened as you leaned in a little more, scooting in between his legs. 

“Stay right there. I got a feeling that you’d like if I spanked you. And I’m not rewarding your rabbit ass with too many orgasms,” he groaned. He sank into his couch, groaning, as he pleasured himself. 

Your eyes followed the glide of his hand. He still wore the bracelets around his wrist. The strings moved with the force of his hand. It was a hell of a way to hypnotize you. He could ask for the Krabby Patty secret formula and you’d find a way to fess up to it. 

“I’ll be good,” you said, still staring at the way he stroked himself. You’d never been more jealous of a fucking hand. 

Your essence dripped out of you, slow like honey. You were unbearably wet. You moved your hand, more than capable of taking care of yourself. Kevin growled. “Don’t move.” 

You stopped and whined, adjusting your arms back behind you. Kevin groaned and leaned his head back against the couch cushion. After a moment or two, he collected himself and looked back at you. “If you be good and take this punishment, I’ll make it worth it,” he promised.

“I don’t even know what the punishment is,” you whined. Fuck being an adult. You wanted to take a ride on his dick and he was fucking playing games. 

“I’m gonna paint that gorgeous face of yours,” he said. “You don’t behave, you don’t get this dick. Fair?” He asked.

“No,” you pouted, poking your lips out and everything. Maybe if you were cute enough, he’d lose his composure and fuck you silly. 

Kevin only moaned, hand moving a little faster from all the precum leaking out of him. “Keep whining, it turns me on,” he said and winked. 

You fought the smile. This was not amusing. This was torture. This was cruel and unusual punishment. This had to be illegal. 

You were incredibly horny, sitting somewhere between too cold and too warm. Your body was confused. But your mind was far from it. You watched him like he was the single greatest porn scene you’d ever watched. 

Kevin groaned. “I love the way you lookin’ at me,” he said. His voice was rougher, like he’d been running for a long time. He was out of breath, stroking himself nice and smooth. He had a patch of dark hair at the base of his dick. His dick smooth like velvet, hard as a brick. 

“I could do a lot better than just look,” you said. You hadn’t had a chance to show off your own moves. Too busy with getting caught up in the way Kevin took care of business. You leaned up on your knees, getting excited at the prospect of giving him the gawk gawk 3000. That had him rolling his eyes and singing your praises. The kind of slobbering that had you caught up a few times, with men who swore they were in love with you. 

Kevin chuckled. “I bet you could. You look like you wanna eat me,” he said. His hips jerked as he said it, practically fucking his hand at this point. He let out a low string of curses as he closed his eyes briefly. 

“You have no idea how badly I want your dick in my mouth,” you said.

“Yeah? Tell me how badly,” he said. 

“I wanna taste you. I want to see how far back in my throat you can go,” you said, unashamed of your words. You were mad tripping earlier. That same connection you felt last night only seemed to strengthen in this moment. 

Kevin groaned, bucking his hips against his hand like he truly was fucking. You could picture bouncing on his dick in time with his hips moving. Was it possible to cum from no stimulation at all? You felt like you could cum at this very moment. This may be punishment, but fuck if it wasn’t beautiful to watch. 

Kevin’s jaw began to slacken, eyes tightly closed. He was close. He groaned, the sound slithering down your spine. Your pussy throbbed. Clit swollen and weeping, crying out to be played with. To be touched. To relieve this fucking tension in your bones. 

“Can’t wait to feel that mouth on this dick. Wanna see you struggle to take me. Looking up at me with those sexy eyes. Fuck. Would you cry?” He asked. He seemed more like he was talking to himself. He worked himself up with that particular fantasy. He scooted forward on the couch, stroking his dick once and then twice before moaning as he squirted his hot cum all over your face.

It landed more so on your nose and cheek, dribbling onto your lips. “Lick that shit up,” Kevin said, voice deep and raspy. Deep enough to make you whimper. You licked your lips, licking up his cum and swallowing him down.

You moaned, finally getting to taste him. “Oh, my, god,” Kevin said, panting from the force of his climax. He collapsed onto his couch, breathing heavily. A beat passed and then two, before he turned back to you with a wink. 

He leaned forward, tugging you closer so that he could kiss you. You melted against him. He leaned back. “You did so fucking well for me,” he said. 

You whimpered. He helped you rise to your feet. Then brought you to the bathroom, where he rinsed off a washcloth and gently cleaned your face. He was not making it easy on you. In a minute, you were going to drop to your knees and propose to the man. He took such gentle care with you, cleaning your face softly. You watched his face. The absolute concentration. The little bit of tongue poking out between his lips. 

Done, he tugged your arms behind his back and kissed the absolute daylights out of you. Scorching. Hot. Enough to completely daze you as he brought the kiss to an end, lips still pressed together. He slowly withdrew, opening his eyes and looking up at you even though he was taller. 

“How about you run a bath while I get some breakfast going for us? You good with an omelet?” 

You nodded. “That sounds delicious,” you said. Your stomach rumbled, loudly, in the quiet bathroom. It was tastefully decorated in steel blue with complimentary towels. The rug underneath your feet was shaggy and comfortable, toes sinking into the fabric. You swayed a bit, suddenly so damn hungry you couldn’t think straight. 

Kevin kissed your cheek. “Forgive me, I’ve been a bad host,” he said. 

You smiled lazily at him. “You’ve been so amazing, I’m starting to think I’m having a really good dream or I’m in a really bad coma,” you said. 

Kevin chuckled. “Naw, baby. I’m real,” he said. He grabbed your chin and brought you closer for a sweet kiss, a light smacking of your lips on his. “I’ll come get you when the food is ready. There’s no rush.” 

Kevin left you with one final kiss, like he couldn’t help himself. Then, he grabbed a towel, wash cloth, and hand towel from a cabinet in the wall. You asked about grabbing your panties first, but Kevin shook his head.

“No underwear policy in this space,” he said. 

“Now sir,” you said and giggled. 

“You see me wearing one?” He asked. 

You looked down at his dick and licked your lips. Kevin grunted. “Don’t get hurt now.”

You giggled and shook your head. “I can’t walk around the apartment naked as hell. What about your windows?” You asked. 

Kevin made a face but then sighed. “Fine.” He walked out of the room without another word. You watched him cross the hall to his bedroom, opening his drawer, and pulling out a dark gray T-shirt. He returned to the bathroom and handed it to you. “No panties.” 

You accepted the shirt and smiled. “Thank you,” you said. “I’ll behave. That punishment was bullshit,” you said. You turned towards his tub, reaching over to turn on the water and plug it up. Kevin smacked your ass, hard, the slap echoing off of the tile. 

“Worked, didn’t it?” He asked. He waggled his eyebrows and then left you alone in his bathroom. You pinched yourself. You quietly squealed, running in place. You had to get the jitters out of your skin. 

No amount of pinching or screaming would convince you that this was real. That you were in this space, surrounded by this man that was a book boyfriend come to life. He said all the right things and did all the right things. Even when he was mean, he was still sweet and sexy. This connection between you was insane. Indescribable. How the hell would you even begin to try?

His tub was easy enough to work, the warm water filling up quickly. You raided his soap, looking for the one he used most often. He had a teakwood body wash that was almost gone so you helped yourself to it, wanting to smell like him. If this were a dream, then oh thee fuck well. You were never going to wake up from this. Never. 

You washed yourself up, sinking into the warm water and living through flashbacks of last night and a few moments ago. The water felt so good on your skin, easing up any aches and pains accrued over the night and from kneeling for so long. You were good and pruney, practically falling asleep, by the time Kevin knocked on the door.

“Okay to come in?” He asked. 

You sat up in the tub. “Yep!” You called out.

Kevin entered and leaned on the doorknob. He hummed in appreciation. “Giving me all kinds of ideas about that tub,” he said. 

“I aim to please,” you said and giggled. 

“Later, beautiful. Food’s up. If you need help drying off, just let me know,” he said. 

You laughed. “If you help me dry off, that food will get cold,” you said.

Kevin sighed but nodded with a small smile. “You right. Come on, gorgeous,” he said. 

The casual way that he dropped all of these terms of endearment only further solidified that you’d never find someone like Kevin. Out of the billions of people on the planet, you couldn’t find someone like him. Even if you were to clone him, Kevin was unique. Different. The total and complete package.

You’d have to find a way to abscond with Claire and marry her. Give her your first born. Something. How the hell had she been hiding all of this?! 

Kevin knocked on the door and then partially closed it, giving you enough privacy to get out of the tub and drain it. You dried off, smelling his sweet scent all over your skin. You hummed as you pulled on his shirt, amazed that it fit over your curves and rolls. Huh. How about that.

You’d never been able to experience the small pleasure of putting on your boyfriend’s clothes. It was always a smidge too small. And whoever you were with tried to make you feel better. As if it were their fault that their clothes weren’t bigger for you. It didn’t crush you, not really, but secretly you always wanted to. You liked the inherent pleasure in it. Like you were staking your claim with one piece of clothing. 

Kevin was big enough that the arms of his shirt hung loose. The shirt came down to the middle of your thighs, looking like a dress that was almost too short. Too indecent if you were to wear something like this in public with no shorts or leggings underneath. If you bent over, he’d get a good view of your pussy. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the smirk that never left your lips. Your hair was a little wild, but that was okay. You smoothed it down. You looked like you’d been fucked. And fucked good. You grinned to yourself and finally left the bathroom.

The kitchen smelled amazing. It was still warm from what he cooked. He sat on the couch with a plate in his hand. He had an area to sit in the kitchen, but he patted the couch next to him. Your thighs tingled remembering what he did earlier. 

Your dress was draped across the accompanying recliner, laid out to smooth out the wrinkles that appeared because it had been bunched up all night. Your heels were on the floor and your purse was underneath the dress. 

Strangely, you felt no immediate need to grab your phone. Fuck the world. You were having fun in your little bubble. Kevin handed you a plate as you sat down. It looked good enough to be in a food magazine. Oh and the taste.

You moaned, fork scraping against the plate as you dug for another piece and another one. The egg was fluffy, flavorful, filled with little pieces of ham, cheese, and tomato. You looked at Kevin, licking your fork clean. When you released it, you smacked your lips. 

“Okay, this is really unfair. You look like that and cook like this? Fuck,” you said and shook your head.

Kevin laughed. “Couldn’t let my siblings grow up on mediocre ass food. I can throw down a little,” he said, being modest and ducking his head as he dug into a bigger version of your omelet. 

As you ate, you swapped family horror stories, both cracking up and nearly choking on food. Kevin ended up turning up the heater for your sake. You spent the late afternoon watching movies and pigging out on the couch. You found movies that you’d both seen so it wasn’t a big deal if you missed some of the movie by talking. 

And oh, did you talk about everything under the sun. Conversation flowed freely. The laughs were quick and loud. Sunlight filtered through his blinds, flecks of dust swirling in the beam. Your foot swung back and forth off of the couch before Kevin grabbed your foot and started to massage the heel. 

You moaned, resting your head against the back of the couch. You smiled at him, eyes drifting close as he found a particular ache in the arch. A soft sigh escaped you as you moaned with pleasure. His hands were perfect. Absolutely perfect. Immediately zeroing in on your most sensitive spots.

“Oh, that is so unfair,” you moaned. 

“What is?” Kevin looked from the TV to your face. You studied his half side profile. The line of his jaw. The peek of his lips surrounded by a neat, full beard. The way his hair twisted. The kind glow of his eyes. You were simply obsessed. 

“You’ve been doing nothing but making me feel good for the past day and some change,” you said. 

“I’d like to do it for longer than that,” he said. He gave you a rare, shy smile. “Too soon?” 

You shook your head. You moaned around him digging his thumb in. You brought your arm up to rest against your cheek. “It doesn’t scare me.”

“Good. I don’t ever want to scare you,” he said. 

You spent a few moments staring into each other’s eyes. His eyes reminded you of sitting outside a log cabin, crackling fire in front of you, bundled in sweaters and scarves. He was so warm. From the inside out. It made you feel lucky to be in his orbit. 

“You can’t ever scare me, I think. Is that weird?” You asked. 

“Naw, that’s not weird. But you can always tell me if I do,” he said. 

Kevin moved his hand, rubbing the top of your foot. His fingers brushed your toes and you yanked your foot back with a squeak. You could barely tolerate someone touching your feet. But touching your toes was out of the question.

Kevin gave you a funny look, reaching for your toes intentionally. You yanked your foot back, tucking it underneath you. You fought a laugh, fought the unbearable awkward sensation.

“You ticklish?” He asked. 

“No,” you said and shook your head.

Kevin’s face dropped in realization as he began to find other places you were ticklish. You squealed with laughter. There was something terrible and wonderful about being tickled. Your body didn’t like it but your brain recognized it as pleasurable. It was a weird headspace to be and you fought with all of your might against Kevin. 

He stopped once you were hysterically screaming for him to stop, laughing so hard that you were out of breath. Kevin held up his hands, laughing with you. “My bad, my bad. I ain’t know,” he said, still chuckling at your wheezing.

You eventually calmed down, sobering up while looking at him. “You are amazing,” you said. 

“And you are perfect,” he said. He leaned forward on the couch, covering your body with his. His powerful arms were on either side of you. He did one half push up and began kissing you. His lips smacked over yours, light little hums escaping him as if he were tasting something delicious. 

Your body lit up, warming from the inside out as you felt all of him imposing on top of you. He kept most of his weight off of you, but you wished he’d drop down so you could treat him like your personal weighted blanket. 

You ran your hands over his shoulders, feeling his smooth, wondrous skin beneath your fingers. He smelled heavenly. 

Kevin moaned. “You smell just like me,” he said. He moaned against your lips, kissing down your jaw and across your neck. Liquid heat followed where his tongue licked against your skin. “This was a turn on I didn’t know I had.”

Your giggles ended on a moan as he licked across your rapid thumping vein. The space between your thighs warmed up, turning into an inferno all its own. Kevin slid his knee between your legs, spreading you open for him. He hummed, staring at you all smug and shit. The light hairs on his thighs rubbed in the most delicious way. 

Your eyes fluttered, hands reaching out to push at his chest. Kevin used his imposing frame to lean down, putting pressure against your weak hand. Your hand dropped and Kevin smirked.

He knee was joined with one of his hands, gathering up your slick and juices, coating his fingers. He brought it to his lips, sucking on his fingers while he  stared into your eyes. You stared back, watching him gather up as much as he could. 

He moved down the length of your body, kissing in places and biting in others. Your sighs were choppy and quick, not allowing you to draw in a full breath. Kevin nosed through your wet folds, rubbing his nose in your pussy and humming to himself. His fingers dug into your thick, meaty thighs.

“Gahh damn, beautiful. You fuckin’ soaked,” he moaned. He lifted his head, dragging his tongue along the slit of your pussy. You whimpered, legs dropping open further so that he had enough room. Kevin adjusted himself on the couch and then used his tongue to push between, finding your clit with a precise lick.

“Oh, shit!” You cried out. Your nails raked across his back, digging in for purchase as he licked around your overly sensitive clit. His tongue flicked, dragging back and forth and made you speak in tongues. Your hands flew to his neck, pulling, pushing him down harder against your clit.

You gyrated your hips, fucking into his mouth. He moaned around you gushing around his mouth. The orgasm snuck up on you, too swift like a sniper. You moaned and cried against Kevin’s tongue, unrelenting, sucking harder.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you cried, panicked cries echoing in the room. The TV played in the background, some random ass movie or show. You weren’t sure which. The afternoon light was gone, replaced with the warming embrace of night. 

You felt this orgasm start in the base of your spine, shooting forward, racing towards the forefront as you came undone from Kevin’s tongue. “Oh, shit. Kevin, Kevin, I’m–” Words got caught in your throat as you came and came, a rolling sort of pleasure that was nearing painful. 

You coughed and then gasped, pulling in lungfuls of air. You felt like your heart restarted or you blacked out for a moment. 

Kevin moaned, looking up at you with your essence dripping from his beard. He kissed up your body, leaving sloppy wet kisses on your belly and chest. He moved himself forward, mouth latching onto your nipple. You cried, the nipple sensitive as hell. 

Each pull of his tongue made your pussy clench. You had no moans to give and yet your moans escaped nonetheless. Your hands roamed over Kevin’s body. He grabbed your wrists and pinned it to the bed beside you, fingers squeezing and making you feel bound. 

You moaned as Kevin released your nipple and then moved on to the next. He gave that one the same care and attention, pulling and tugging, and making you move your hips, feeling empty as hell. 

You couldn’t think straight. You were too blissed out on feeling good. All you knew was his hands on your skin, his lips around your nipples, his deep rumbling moans vibrating against you. All you knew was that there was no past, no future, no present that did not include Kevin Atwater. 

Kevin moved up your body again, kissing along your chest until he licked a trail up your neck. He moaned, moving into position between your legs. You grew a little nervous. Even with all this foreplay, you weren’t sure he would fit again. Last night had to be a fluke. 

“Eyes on me,” he commanded. 

You dragged your eyes up to meet his. He smirked, kissing you and driving random thoughts from your mind. He lined himself up, dragging your legs higher on his hips. He leisurely slid inside of you, like he had all the time in the world.

He paused every so often, letting you adjust to his size and length. He sank deeper and deeper, stretching you to your absolute fullest. 

“Oh fuck, Kev, you’re so big,” you groaned. 

“Made for me,” he said. He kissed your cheek as he began to pull out and then pull back in. 

You practically growled in his ear as his tip brushed up against your cervix. He was so deep, filling up an essential part of you. You no longer felt empty. You felt so completely full that tears sprang to your eyes.

Your pussy clenched around his dick. Your loud squelching sounded painful, even to you. He groaned as you squeezed his dick, sliding out so slowly it felt like torture, before pushing back in. 

Your orgasm was vicious, wild, and crazy. Burrowing through your veins and spreading throughout your entire system. Useless drabble fell from your lips. If you were trying to say something, then you had no clue what. You doubted he was any wiser. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Feel so fuckin’ good. You were made for this dick,” he moaned. 

“Fill me up, Kevin. Please fill me up,” you begged. 

Kevin’s strokes increased, pounding into you, ramming inside of you. Your ass slapped on his thighs. His balls slapped against your ass. Kevin gripped your ankles, pushing your legs against your chest and closer together.

He felt even bigger, sliding against your innermost walls and wrecking your shit. You pushed against his chest, tried to scratch at his hands around your ankles. “Please, baby, please, please,” you moaned. 

“Doing so good for me baby. Go ahead and let that shit go. I got you. I’m right here,” he said. He whispered against your skin, leaning against your legs that were leaning against your chest.

He made it slightly harder to breathe, fighting for every rasp and gasp. God, you were feeling incredible. Out of your skin. Like your consciousness mixed into the universe and poured into a galaxy. “I–” You couldn’t even get the sentence out before you were cumming once more, eyes rolling back into your head.

“There it is,” he moaned. “There it is. Don’t that feel better? Don’t I take care of you?” He asked.

He stroked once more before stilling, moaning, and spurting hot loads of cum inside of you. He bathed your insides, stuffing you completely with his seed. 

“Ohhhh, ohhh shit.

“Ohh shit. 

“Shit. 

“Shit,” Kevin groaned, eyes closed, jaw slackened. He pulled out, wet gurgling following behind, before he slammed in. He repeated the action a few times. You groaned.

God, no more. No more. You didn’t have another one in you. You simply didn’t. Kevin collapsed on top of you, taking deep breaths and pressing into your skin. He rolled off of you, sliding out. He looked between your legs, pulling your legs apart to watch himself leak out. He hummed in appreciation and then got to his feet and padded away to the bathroom.

He returned with a warm washcloth and gently wiped up between your legs. He closed the cloth and then used the clean side to clean up lingering sweat. Done, he got rid of the cloth and then helped you to your feet.

You were too weak, too fucked out to hold yourself up. Kevin chuckled and swooped you into his arms without a grunt. He deposited you in the bathroom so that you could clean yourself up further. Then, he picked you up and put you on his bed and tucked you under the covers.  

“Yo ass better be in this bed in the morning,” he said. He kissed you on the lips and then joined you in bed. Even though he turned up the heater, you didn’t know true warmth under his scorching chest met your frozen back. You moaned and snuggled further into his body.

“A nigga like to cuddle in the morning,” he said. He buried his face in your neck and kissed the back of your ear.

“Mhm, yes, sir,” you sleepily mumbled before passing off into dreamland.

There's more! The Secret Kevin Atwater Files | Part 1

[latenightswaudiobooks]

Weekly Mental Health Check In

10/29/2024

Hey! It’s me, your local messy book blogger here to check in because our mental health is important and typing about it to strangers on the internet is easier than opening up to people in person sometimes! I have this as another template so it’ll typically be the same questions, but if you’d also like to answer you do not have to follow it! 

How are you doing this week? I'm doing okay. My mental health hasn't been doing the best I have had some BPD splits which I felt coming on for a few weeks so have been very low and isolating trying not to have one. It has seemed to lift though today I'm feeling social and excited.

What’s been on your mind this week? We have to deep clean the house this weekend and I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to do it if I keep flaring up (POTS & chronic pain) like this.

How are you coping with that? I'm angry at myself.

How have you been sleeping? not the best most of the week but i slept great last night!

Have you been meeting your body's needs? I should probably eat and brush my hair a lot more often if I'm honest!

What one thing can you do for yourself this week? I'm gonna try to get outside more this week

What entertainment are you taking in this week? I've been watching Grimm with my fiancee I've never watched it before, but I really like it!

One thing I'm grateful for this week: My fiancee and her endless patience, kindness, and her want to understand me. I couldn't ever thank her enough for that.

One thing you're looking forward to this week: I've got meeting/dinner/game night with all my coworkers tonight and a group of us are participating a trivia night this weekend so I'm excited to hangout with my friends from work!

Remember you are not alone! Remember no matter what you are deserving of self care! Remember no matter what someone cares for you even if you don’t know it. You have made it through all the hard times before you can make it through this too! If nothing else, live out of spite that you could outlive your enemy.

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

Katya: A Poem

"Goncharov" is a 1973 Martin Scorsese film that Tumblr collectively invented in 2022. I'd heard of it, but didn't take too much interest in it. It was only recently that I found out that "Goncharov" had a sapphic ship, between Katya and Sofia. That was what piqued my interest.

In a flurry of activity, I wrote a poem.

I am indebted to all the Tumblr bloggers who came before me, whose creations were captured in this "Goncharov" master doc and this collection of quotes. I hope you enjoy the poem I strung together from your posts!

If you reblog this, make sure to add the tags #unreality and #unrealism so people who would find it triggering don't see it. Remember to Gonch responsibly!

Yekaterina Mikhailova. 

That was my name. 

It was a name that meant nothing,

because I was nothing. 

My father’s daughter,

my brother’s sister. 

For a time, we were rich. 

Then our father received a visit from his co-workers

in the mafia. 

He came between them

and his daughter. 

He died with a smile on his face. 

For the next three years, we were poor. 

My brother and I,

living – no, merely surviving –

together on the streets,

made a resolution:

never again would we fall so low. 

Never again would we be so weak. 

So penniless. 

So worthless. 

We tracked down our uncle. 

Thanks to him, we joined the mafia ourselves –

me first,

my brother later, more reluctantly. 

He learnt not to question what I did,

no matter how much of a father

he wanted to be to me. 

I only have one mother, one father, one brother, one uncle,

but I could trace a path

from Naples to my childhood home in Moscow

with the blood of all the men

who told me they loved me. 

…

Later, I trained as a spy. 

It was in that line of work that I found Lo Straniero. 

The stranger. 

He told me his real name was Leonid Goncharov. 

I chose to believe him. 

What is marriage,

but a way to escape the names of our fathers? 

When I walked towards Goncharov

at the altar,

I thought that would be the moment

I would finally become someone

real enough

to have flesh and blood

to call mine. 

Perhaps the name Yekaterina

wouldn’t sound so empty on my lips. 

And with those same lips

I called his name,

and smiled at him in front of God,

and kissed him in the dark of our room. 

And all I became was his wife. 

A wedding is no different to a funeral,

is it not? 

The old Yekaterina died to Goncharov that day;

he took my name from me,

my very history,

and I allowed him that. 

My husband is a man who collects things he can use. 

A pistol,

a pocket watch,

a woman’s love,

a wife. 

My father would have needed me to marry,

so I did. 

Goncharov would have needed me to love him,

so I did. 

I truly did. 

Oh, I was a good woman, wasn’t I?  

A wife when he needed someone to bed,

a sister when he needed someone to argue with,

a mother when he needed to cry... 

Is that all women were in his eyes?  

Actors? 

Pretty dolls to dress up and spin around

according to his needs? 

No, I shouldn’t be so harsh. 

It wasn’t his fault

he could only ever fall in love with men. 

But the way he treated me? 

That was his fault. 

I needed a new place to exist. 

I found you in the fruit stand. 

…

Sofia Ambrosini. 

That was your name. 

With your serpent bracelet twinkling,

you stooped to pick up the fallen apple

that had escaped my basket

and rolled towards your leg –

the right one,

the one made of wood. 

I recognised from your false leg

and your false snake

that you were in the same world as me –

the same world of murder

whose space we shared precariously. 

But in that moment

we could be two women in a market

shopping for two men,

me my husband,

you your brother. 

Because it’s so hard to make friends in a world of murder. 

But here we were in public,

under the Sun,

and just for a while,

we could pretend we were women

who knew each other from …

somewhere. 

Just making friends. 

Just leading each other into temptation. 

It was the apple’s fault. 

It was the apple that made me bring up Adam and Eve. 

There we so many strange apples at that market. 

I imagined the wild way they looked

was how they looked in the Garden of Eden. 

But then you said,

“I never understood why it had to be an apple. 

Why an apple?” 

I answered, “I don’t know.

Because it’s always been an apple, I suppose.

It’s easier to recreate in art.  

All the painters and sculptors

and everyone else who makes those choices,

they all came together and decided

that an apple looks pretty simple –

nice, smooth, round,

easy enough to draw in a tree –

and now everyone sees nothing but apples

in the Tree of Knowledge

ever after.  

So it’s always apples.” 

I will never forget your response. 

“The dullest possible produce.  

The Forbidden Fruit is supposed to be

something unusual,

something special.  

All the knowledge of the world

and of each other

and of the realisation

that these two fools are

running around the Garden

with their bottoms bare

in front of the Almighty.  

An apple doesn’t seem right for that.  

It’s dull.  

It’s a thing for pastry and postcards.”  

“What would you pick instead?” I asked. 

“Pomegranates,” you said immediately.  “No question.  

It’s the fruit that the God of the Dead used

to trick the Goddess of Spring

into staying with him in the Underworld.  

She tasted the seeds

and she was forced to stay down there

for half a year, every year,

forever. 

A fruit so powerful

it can trap a goddess

seems like the kind of fruit

that can banish humanity from Paradise.” 

We paused. 

We made eye contact. 

“Tastes better than apples, too,” you added. 

And it looks like a jewel

when you split it open.” 

I ate a pomegranate panna cotta

in the bistro later that day. 

And when I licked my lips,

I immediately understood you. 

I did like apples,

but pomegranates? 

They were amazing. 

I’d go to Hell for them. 

I’d go to Hell for you. 

…

“Oh, it’s six already?”

Goncharov said to me when I returned home. 

“The clock’s broken,” I replied. 

“It’s been six for hours.” 

If only time would stop for us. 

…

I was raised Orthodox,

but Goncharov and I had been attending a Catholic Mass

to better fit in with the locals. 

I was unsettled by the topic of Father Gianni’s sermon:

the sins of the flesh,

the importance of resisting Earthly temptations,

and the necessity of self-control in this life,

thereby preparing for glories to come. 

Were there any glories to come? 

You, Sofia, got up to leave in the middle of the sermon,

heading for the stained-glass Virgin Mary,

and you whispered as you passed,

“Take your glories where you may.” 

And like the fishermen who left their nets

to follow Jesus

and become fishers of men,

I got up

and followed you. 

I did not know how my husband felt about me doing that. 

I did not care. 

I started partaking of apples and pomegranates

in equal measure. 

…

Sofia, you told me you had never even touched a gun before. 

But you were clearly too skilled

when those men cornered you

and you took them all down. 

Admit it. 

You just lied because

you wanted me to give you that “hands-on” shooting lesson,

didn’t you? 

“Are we not all murderers in some way, Katya?”

you said to me when I challenged you. 

“After all, a human being is a heart. 

Break that, and how can it go on living?” 

I had to ask,

“Don’t you have a broken heart, Sofia?” 

“It still beats, Katya,” you said, quietly. 

“It still beats.” 

…

For me, it’s always been the darkness I liked;

the way the lights roll off the water between the alleyways

reminds me of the past. 

…

You were adamant in your belief

that all memory is treachery. 

But one of my favourite memories

was us together in my husband’s house,

after dinner at the casino,

me in my evening gown,

you dressed as a waiter. 

You’d asked, “What’s your poison?” 

I’d answered, “Whatever you’re having, darling.” 

For the first time since moving to Naples,

I shook off the white furs

and showed you my dress –

the woman

under the animal. 

“You look good in red,” you said to me. 

Then you called me lisichka. 

Little fox. 

Which should have sounded wrong,

a Russian pet name in an Italian accent,

but that night it sounded right. 

I returned the compliments. 

“And you look good in green,

kukolka.” 

Little doll. 

I gave you one of my pearl necklaces. 

“Every woman should be allowed

to feel like she is looked at

beautifully.” 

My husband’s voice resounded in my head:

“Time isn’t like your pearls, Yekaterina. 

You can’t buy more. 

You think you can own time by wearing it,

but it just beats itself into your bones instead.” 

Well, no-one can tell me what I can and can’t buy. 

…

“If I were cursed, Sofia,

then I would never have found you.” 

“You could still lose me.” 

“Never.” 

…

I started being Katya,

being myself,

not because I fell into my role as Goncharov’s wife,

but because I discovered my inability. 

My unwillingness. 

I knew he cared for me,

but not beyond the presentation we put on for his peers. 

The peers who could end his life at any moment. 

And it wouldn’t be so unbearable

if we were at least still friends,

but all of that went to Andrey –

the friendship, the love, the care –

at least as much as Goncharov was capable of

beyond his own inadequacies. 

Andrey could not live loyally,

so let’s see how he does in death. 

…

I didn’t want Goncharov’s name in your mouth. 

I should have taken his money and left. 

It’s not obvious why I didn’t. 

All this time wandering the wreckage of his house –

I’m sorry, Sofia, it must have killed you. 

“Unlike you,” you said to me,

“I do not lure to cannibalise. 

I watch, and I starve.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Well, stop it! 

What do you take me for? 

Stop watching and devour me in full already,

won’t you?” 

So you did. 

I must have looked like a jewel

when you split me open. 

…

“I’ll stay with you tonight, if you’ll have me.” 

“I wouldn’t have anyone else.” 

I lay in bed with you. 

We wanted to do so much,

but ended up doing so little. 

I ran my foot up and down your leg –

the right one,

the one made of wood. 

I thought of what I knew

(what little I knew)

about your past –

how your Jewish family came to Naples,

how you lost them somewhere,

how the Poor Clares took you in and cared for you,

how you searched for your family amidst the Nazis,

how you lost that leg in the riots. 

“The world wants you dead,” I said,

more to myself than you. 

You turned to me. 

“Do you want me dead?” 

I forced myself to meet your eyes. 

“No.” 

You shrugged. 

“Then the world doesn’t want me dead.” 

We stayed in bed together for a while after that. 

…

We were always wasting time we never had. 

How could I love something which was never there? 

Oh, darling, that’s just grief. 

Time is like blood,

and I have wasted both. 

We could not go on forever,

could not fight the story,

could not step outside the marriage

or the mafia

or else. 

We were animals,

and animals, whether wild or tamed,

cannot fight the inevitable. 

“Time stops for no-one, Katya. 

Not even us.” 

…

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Wishful thinking.” 

“Sofia, I’m not cut out for the life you’re offering me. 

That different life. 

I am chained to my history –

a short chain. 

That’s why I cannot leave with you.” 

That’s why you and I

and my husband

and his lover

and your brother

and our enemies

are all in this boathouse. 

November’s the cruellest month of the year,

and Naples is full of fools. 

…

“Of course we’re in love!” I scream at Goncharov. 

“That’s why I tried to shoot you!” 

He laughs and cries at the same time. 

“If we really were in love,

you wouldn’t have missed.” 

He’s right. 

Our love was a grenade,

and now all that remains is shrapnel. 

He loved me, but only for a minute. 

I don’t know if he could handle any more. 

Love cannot be bought;

otherwise, we would have had a happy marriage. 

When we got married, I drew this line

between us and the world. 

He’s crossed that line,

and I can’t go with him. 

He and I are,

I think,

finally out of time. 

He has destroyed and betrayed himself

for nothing. 

That is his worst sin. 

My inability to be loyal to my husband

is what saved me. 

And what now kills him. 

What could now kill you, if you let it. 

…

You are pleading with me. 

“We can have the Forbidden Fruit

and it can be whatever we want!  

Let it be a pomegranate!  

Let us glut ourselves on it!  

And why do we have to follow everyone else’s rules

about what is and isn’t forbidden, anyway?  

None of us in this boathouse

are living within the law in the first place.  

There is blood on everyone’s hands.  

Can’t you and I sin a little sweeter?  

Can’t you admit that the sin you want most

isn’t a sin at all? 

Can’t you spit out the lies you’ve swallowed

in the Hell you found yourself in? 

We could grow our own garden somewhere!”

No, Sofia. 

This is my garden,

my Tree of Knowledge,

better the Devil I know,

and you wish you were my Serpent,

but this is my Underworld to rule

as much as any queen can rule there,

unhappy

but resigned. 

Go, Eve. 

Grow your garden alone. 

The Forbidden Fruit is there to be eaten,

to force us to go,

to let us step outside the walls meant to keep us in. 

But you just can’t make everyone eat. 

The pomegranate is within my reach,

but I have lost my appetite for seeds. 

…

I do what Goncharov would do,

and you know what that means. 

Death. 

Goncharov has never meant anything else. 

I will die like my father,

with a smile on my face. 

I will die for you. 

You were once a little girl, alone and scared,

but that girl is long dead. 

The Sofia that lives now? 

The world should fear her. 

Damn them as they would damn us. 

But don’t you ever raise a hand to me. 

…

Sofia, don’t cry. 

There’s no use trying to rewrite the story now. 

Sofia, get out of this boathouse. 

Take my boat. 

It’s fine. 

I won’t need it anymore. 

Go, zolotse. 

Leave Naples. 

Leave Italy. 

Leave the mafia behind. 

But take your two candlesticks with you. 

Light them on a Friday evening,

and watch the red of the sunset

wash over the white of the candles. 

Sofia, take your day of rest. 

No, a year of rest. 

Make every day a Shabbat. 

Remember to bless yourself. 

Sofia, choose wisely what you do now,

because it might be the last time you get to choose. 

“All memory is treachery.” 

I wonder how you will remember me. 

[akookminsupporter]

I joined the BTS army around Feb 2021,& I discovered Jikook from YT in Mar2021 .I have never been a fan of any celeb my whole life nor hv I followed even a single celeb on social media. But BTS came into my life & I have never been the same since. I am not on twt. So the only platform I could follow BTS content was YT. That's when I found Jikook & omg I can't tell you how I spent weeks binge watching Jikook content including the Jeonlous. I was obsessed with Jikook & used to argue with antis commts under Jikook video.I had no one to discuss Jikook with & I wanted someone SO BAD with whom I could share my thoughts & discuss BTS and Jikook as I was experiencing first time in my life to be this crazy about celebrity & it was insane you know how it's like to be a baby army. But I had no one so I used to spend all my time on YT & its comment & it was toxic, toxic as hell coz in every other jikook videos people were fighting under comment Jkk vs Tkk.It took a toll on my mental health. I was angry but I couldn't vent out in front of anyone But I was addicted to YT & couldn't stop watching it & arguing with strangers on the internet .Then after almost 2 months ,around May end 2021 I discovered Tumblr & within one or two days I got to meet- You(Rosie), @stormblessed95 , @kanmom51 & @nightswithkookmin. You guys were my saviour & I am not exaggerating. You guys provided a space to healthily discuss Jikook & their moments. You guys brought me to reality and cleaned my delulu mind. You guys gave me a chance to share my thoughts when I had no one. You guys taught me how to support Jikook & BTS at the same time. You guys taught me how to not get jealous whenever v and jk interact. You guys taught me how toxic narrative was Jeonlous. You guys helped me to get rid of my addiction of YT. Your thoughts, your theories, your approach to BTS & its content it all taught me how to not obssess over them & focus on my life while supporting them. I was no longer "addicted to BTS and Jikook". Tumblr became my safe place coz of you guys. There was no toxicity here, there were no Jkk vs Tkk here. We used to laugh & have fun discussion about how crazy tkkrs can be but we were not hating on anyone. I could vent out anytime & you guys were so kind and humble to listen to me. I no longer needed to scroll through other apps bcoz you guys provided every information regarding bts & jikook.You guys made it easy for me. You are my Army Friend b'cause till now I spent my army days with you guys. I want you all to know that you are the best Army out there, you are the true one, BTS will be so proud of you.

But these days my heart is broken because the tumblr that saved me, the tumblr that became my comfort place, it is now getting intoxicated by bad jikookers & it is making my favorite bloggers suffer😔. First you, rosie, who have talked so many times how hate, antis have taken toll on your mental health, the place where you felt free and safe to write your mind became the reason of your bad mood and you took a break recently but fortunately you have returned. and now Stormy whom I thought never let anyone ruin her mental state has taken break because of all the hate and I don't know when she will return. I am sad I am heart broken I feel helpless I feel hopeless and I want to beat the shit out of these toxic people who have started to camp here and kick them out of here but I can't do anything. Now @chikooritajjk , who I recently started to follow Also taking a break bcoz of the hate and bullying and i don't know when they will return either. Everything is falling apart. It's pathetic how the impact of Hate and Toxicity is so strong it can break years of Kindness within seconds. It's a very sad reality of life. and now seeing all the hate BTS members ( esp Tae) and my dear army friends are getting I am also wondering if I should continue to be here. The only thing that makes me not deactivate my account is the thought of "Do not bend your knees against the wrong". If I give up there will be a loss of " good Jikooker" and a win for "toxic jikooker".Good and Kindness always win at the end. No matter how much hate and evil is strong at the end It will always fall apart. It will not last long. Karma is real.The reason I am writing all this is to remind you the impact you have on people here . I am here to remind you how your Blog is very very important especially for baby armies who have lost their path. I am here to encourage and request you to please continue your blog because this fandom needs good army accounts and in chapter 2 it's really needed because things are falling apart. Let's not submit to all the hate and toxicity. There are still people here who respect your opinion who do not hate anyone who wants to have peace and fun. I don't want to lose my friends. A big Fuck You to those people who are shitting here on tumblr and making it a toxic place. One day y'all will realise how shitty you were and how you made good people suffer here. Fuck You dumb bitches.

Hi Anon, how are you?

Wow, what a great responsibility I had without knowing it. Thank you. I can't and won't pretend to speak for the other blogs you mentioned but thanks for the trust and support for my blog. It makes me proud to know that I've been doing things right and that my blog has remained a quiet place to enjoy this world.

I understand how you feel, I'm on both sides of the coin and it's not pretty. I understand why many decide to leave for good and why others decide to take indefinite breaks.

For the time being, I'll still be here. I realised that I like doing this and that it's my main source of interaction with other people hahahahahah so I'm not going anywhere.

Thanks for the support, anon. Hopefully, things will get a little better soon, at least in this part of the fandom. You have to start somewhere, right?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

On the Media on the enshittification (pt 1)

This afternoon (May 6), I’ll be in Berkeley at the Bay Area Bookfest for a 3:30PM event with Glynn Washington for my book Red Team Blues; tomorrow (May 7), it’s an 11AM event with Wendy Liu for my book Chokepoint Capitalism.

Weds (May 10), I’m in Vancouver for a keynote at the Open Source Summit and a book event at Heritage Hall and Thu (May 11), I’m in Calgary for Wordfest.

I'm many kinds of writer - novelist, journalist, activist, editorialist, screenwriter - but at core, I'm a blogger. Every bit of interesting stuff that crosses my path gets turned into a blog post, which gets lodged in both a WordPress database and my mind, where it rubs up against other interesting stuff and crystallizes into longer, more considered pieces:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-memex-method-238c71f2fb46

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/06/people-are-not-disposable/#otm

It's an iterative process, and it follows a predictable and often very exciting life-cycle. First, I encounter an idea in the wild that niggles at my attention and I try to capture what it is that's making it so interesting. The act of writing about some little fragment for strangers makes me think about it harder. That means that I end up making connections to other ideas that I've thought about, and things I continue to encounter in the wild.

As I write about the subject over and over again, over days, then weeks, then years, it gets sharper and more focused. I get better at talking about it, sure, but I also get better at thinking about it. This is an activity @brucesterling​ once called "advancing and demolishing potential political arguments that have never been made by anybody but me":

https://locusmag.com/2017/06/bruce-sterling-reviews-cory-doctorow/

At a certain point, the idea "tips." The act of repeatedly writing about it, relating it to new stuff happening in the world, makes it clear enough to me that it becomes clear enough to explain it to other people, too. Then I'm no longer "advancing and demolishing arguments" for myself - everyone gets in on the act.

That's what happened with enshittification. I coined the term while on vacation last summer:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1550457808222552065

Though I was just tossing the idea off idly, it stuck with me. I dusted it off in November to talk about Amazon and ad-tech:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

Then in December to write about an aspect of online speech that is wildly important but rarely considered:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

A week later, the rapid-onset enshittification of Twitter got me thinking about the subject again:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/19/better-failure/#let-my-tweeters-go

And again, just before Christmas, thanks to a magisterial essay by Cat Valente:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/23/semipermeable-membranes/#free-as-in-puppies

The idea percolated over the holidays, and I revisited it in January:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/08/watch-the-surpluses/#exogenous-shocks

And then, in late January, I had a conceptual breakthrough, thanks to some excellent reporting on TikTok by Emily Baker-White:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

That was the essay that broke the idea out of my own endless argument with myself into the wider world. Wired reprinted it, using the Creative Commons license on the piece:

https://www.wired.com/story/tiktok-platforms-cory-doctorow/

(All the essays on my Pluralistic blog are licensed Creative Commons Attribution-only - you can republish them, too, including in commercial forums, provided you follow the license terms!)

After that essay went viral, I started to hear from lots of people about the subject and it kicked into overdrive - you can see how it went after that by looking at the "enshittification" tag on my blog:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/enshittification/

The best part of this phase of the process is the move from arguing with myself to having serious discussions with others. And I just got to spend a week doing just that, with some of the smartest, most challenging discussants I could ask for: the producers of On the Media, and its host, Brooke Gladstone.

I'm a giant On The Media fan. I don't think I've missed an episode in decades. And I loved Gladstone's graphic novel about media theory:

https://memex.craphound.com/2011/07/07/influencing-machine-brook-gladstones-comic-about-media-theory-is-serious-but-never-dull/

So I went into this discussion with high hopes, but those hopes were met and exceeded in every way. My conversations with Rebecca Clark-Callender and Katya Rogers brought these ideas into a new focus for me, and then, over the course of many hours, Gladstone and I put them into an orderly progression that was transformative.

On The Media turned those discussions into an hour-long, three-act series. They've just aired part one, "Why Every Platform Goes Bad":

https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/segments/enshittification-part-1-where-did-it-all-go-wrong-on-the-media

It's a superb piece of radio (the FCC_mandated bleeps on the "shit" in "enshittification" are hilarious). Though I'm mostly a sole practitioner, it's a forceful example of the power of collaboration, from Gladstone's challenging questions to the superb editing.

The rest of the series will air in the coming weeks, and I'm told they're going to air it as a complete hour this summer. I hope you'll give it a listen!

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Berkeley, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: Jean-Leon Gerome's painting Pollice Verso, 1872, depicting gladiators in an arena with noble onlookers giving a thumbs-down gesture. The tapestry before the nobles has been replaced with a US $100 bill in which Ben Franklin's mouth has been replaced by an Amazon smile logo.=

[strangertheories]

My favourite thing about the Stranger Things fandom is that I can probably guarantee that some bloggers on this platform have put 10 times more thought into this show than the creators have. Eddie and Chrissy's age? Changes depending on the scene. Will's birthday? What season are you watching? Johnathan wanting to go to NYU? NY-who, he wants to go to community college (but considered Emerson)! The writers apparently don't have a spreadsheet with characters ages and birthdays but people on here have broken down every minute detail of this show and every show or ad that can be remotely linked with it. And honestly, I love them for that.

[paladin-n-cleric]

STOP THIS IS SO FUNNY ya’ll byler bloggers will love this... so me and my cousin were talking about how Noah Schnapp iconically came out via TikTok while playing a canonically gay character, and our other cousin's bf (who has never watched Stranger Things) was like "Oh cool that’s the guy from the snapping meme right? The dude that walks up, snaps, and the screen changes?" We were both like "No thats Finn Wolfhard this is a different guy" AND WITHOUT HESITATION he says "Oh thats cool I didn’t know there were two gay characters on the show" HE THOUGHT MIKE WAS THE GAY CHARACTER.. The fact that he’s never even watched the show either and had Mike clocked as the canonically gay character without question is absolutely hysterical- At most he’s seen maybe a couple edits on TikTok XD

OMG!!!!! thank you for sharing i love this haha

[charmedreincarnation]

new theme is so my type !

🥂🍒🍓🧊⛄

for the game

Thank you for your kind words love. I also adore your blog <3!

🥂Loa account/YouTube channel/Twitter account I get info about the law.

At the beginning of my shifting journey I used who was at the time, clockworkluminal and her sister Natari’s Realm (she just left the community on YouTube) but she’s @reincarnatedempress1 on here! I also liked watching slade’s video about the topic! But I rarely used any prominent figures in the community. I preferred to read experiences from strangers on the internet in forums, regarding time glitches, people waking up in parallel universes, and practices and spiritual experiences based on the monks. I also had weird experiences and know people had things happens among that topic so I used in person people too!

🍒 how much time did it take for your first manifestion.

Umm I didn't keep track tbh, and saw change in my mind almost immediately because I was really excited and hated my life, so any improvement made me very happy. I would say 1 day!

🍓did you ever tell your friends or family about the law!

My sister is also a shifter, uses the void state and loves manifestion :)! I have told friends fragments of the law without saying it so they can use it to their benefit. Most of them don’t care (not in a rude way) don’t believe in it, or don’t rlly care to use it! So I’ve never really went full dive because they just wouldn’t care that much, which is okay. But they do know my about my beliefs and spiritual practices!

🧊 ur fav Loa blogs

Any blogs tagged in in my bio! But once again, i pretty much like all blogs. We all say the same thing but differently and incorporate our experiences which is nice :)! Different people may like how a differnt blog says something but we all say the same thing for the most part with a sprinkle with our own experiences and aesthetics.

⛄️give out tips/ advice related to law and your journey

1.find a friend group or support group. You don't have to do it alone.

2.stop being jealous of people when you can live the same exact way and even better than them if you so desire. Channel that anger and envy into your journey and turn it turn it into motivation.

3. Do what your love to make it feel natural>> discipline> motivation

4. Fall in love and live in imagination. It's your best friend, its your escape and will be what frees you from what can seem like a limited reality.

5. Most importantly, create your own rules. Ignore infighting within bloggers, arguments about methods, contradicting coaches, and angry lame people who care more about being "right" (does not exist) than teaching that anything you want goes. Create a bubble of content that you like and believe in, and persist in that. Seriously. Nothing you do can be wrong, limiting, "against the law" unless you assume it to be.

+anything else I’ve said in my blog tbh lol