#complete landscape services

[gardenimprint]

Native Garden Landscape Design

Are you looking for complete landscape services in Massachusetts? Garden Imprint is one of the leading garden maintenance companies offering the best native garden landscape designs, hardscape design, installation, and many other services at affordable prices. https://www.gardenimprint.com/native-landscapes

[reasonsforhope]

Federal regulators on Tuesday [April 23, 2024] enacted a nationwide ban on new noncompete agreements, which keep millions of Americans — from minimum-wage earners to CEOs — from switching jobs within their industries.

The Federal Trade Commission on Tuesday afternoon voted 3-to-2 to approve the new rule, which will ban noncompetes for all workers when the regulations take effect in 120 days [So, the ban starts in early September, 2024!]. For senior executives, existing noncompetes can remain in force. For all other employees, existing noncompetes are not enforceable.

[That's right: if you're currently under a noncompete agreement, it's completely invalid as of September 2024! You're free!!]

The antitrust and consumer protection agency heard from thousands of people who said they had been harmed by noncompetes, illustrating how the agreements are "robbing people of their economic liberty," FTC Chair Lina Khan said. 

The FTC commissioners voted along party lines, with its two Republicans arguing the agency lacked the jurisdiction to enact the rule and that such moves should be made in Congress...

Why it matters

The new rule could impact tens of millions of workers, said Heidi Shierholz, a labor economist and president of the Economic Policy Institute, a left-leaning think tank. 

"For nonunion workers, the only leverage they have is their ability to quit their job," Shierholz told CBS MoneyWatch. "Noncompetes don't just stop you from taking a job — they stop you from starting your own business."

Since proposing the new rule, the FTC has received more than 26,000 public comments on the regulations. The final rule adopted "would generally prevent most employers from using noncompete clauses," the FTC said in a statement.

The agency's action comes more than two years after President Biden directed the agency to "curtail the unfair use" of noncompetes, under which employees effectively sign away future work opportunities in their industry as a condition of keeping their current job. The president's executive order urged the FTC to target such labor restrictions and others that improperly constrain employees from seeking work.

"The freedom to change jobs is core to economic liberty and to a competitive, thriving economy," Khan said in a statement making the case for axing noncompetes. "Noncompetes block workers from freely switching jobs, depriving them of higher wages and better working conditions, and depriving businesses of a talent pool that they need to build and expand."

Real-life consequences

In laying out its rationale for banishing noncompetes from the labor landscape, the FTC offered real-life examples of how the agreements can hurt workers.

In one case, a single father earned about $11 an hour as a security guard for a Florida firm, but resigned a few weeks after taking the job when his child care fell through. Months later, he took a job as a security guard at a bank, making nearly $15 an hour. But the bank terminated his employment after receiving a letter from the man's prior employer stating he had signed a two-year noncompete.

In another example, a factory manager at a textile company saw his paycheck dry up after the 2008 financial crisis. A rival textile company offered him a better job and a big raise, but his noncompete blocked him from taking it, according to the FTC. A subsequent legal battle took three years, wiping out his savings. 

-via CBS Moneywatch, April 24, 2024

--

Note:

A lot of people think that noncompete agreements are only a white-collar issue, but they absolutely affect blue-collar workers too, as you can see from the security guard anecdote.

In fact, one in six food and service workers are bound by noncompete agreements. That's right - one in six food workers can't leave Burger King to work for Wendy's [hypothetical example], in the name of "trade secrets." (x, x, x)

Noncompete agreements also restrict workers in industries from tech and video games to neighborhood yoga studios. "The White House estimates that tens of millions of workers are subject to noncompete agreements, even in states like California where they're banned." (x, x, x)

The FTC estimates that the ban will lead to "the creation of 8,500 new businesses annually, an average annual pay increase of $524 for workers, lower health care costs, and as many as 29,000 more patents each year for the next decade." (x)

Clearer explanation of noncompete agreements below the cut.

Noncompete agreements can restrict workers from leaving for a better job or starting their own business.

Noncompetes often effectively coerce workers into staying in jobs they want to leave, and even force them to leave a profession or relocate.

Noncompetes can prevent workers from accepting higher-paying jobs, and even curtail the pay of workers not subject to them directly.

Of the more than 26,000 comments received by the FTC, more than 25,000 supported banning noncompetes. 

[pillowfort-social]

Generative AI Policy (February 9, 2024)

As of February 9, 2024, we are updating our Terms of Service to prohibit the following content:

Images created through the use of generative AI programs such as Stable Diffusion, Midjourney, and Dall-E.

This post explains what that means for you. We know it’s impossible to remove all images created by Generative AI on Pillowfort. The goal of this new policy, however, is to send a clear message that we are against the normalization of commercializing and distributing images created by Generative AI. Pillowfort stands in full support of all creatives who make Pillowfort their home. Disclaimer: The following policy was shaped in collaboration with Pillowfort Staff and international university researchers. We are aware that Artificial Intelligence is a rapidly evolving environment. This policy may require revisions in the future to adapt to the changing landscape of Generative AI. 

-

Why is Generative AI Banned on Pillowfort?

Our Terms of Service already prohibits copyright violations, which includes reposting other people’s artwork to Pillowfort without the artist’s permission; and because of how Generative AI draws on a database of images and text that were taken without consent from artists or writers, all Generative AI content can be considered in violation of this rule. We also had an overwhelming response from our user base urging us to take action on prohibiting Generative AI on our platform.  

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How does Pillowfort define Generative AI?

As of February 9, 2024 we define Generative AI as online tools for producing material based on large data collection that is often gathered without consent or notification from the original creators.

Generative AI tools do not require skill on behalf of the user and effectively replace them in the creative process (ie - little direction or decision making taken directly from the user). Tools that assist creativity don't replace the user. This means the user can still improve their skills and refine over time. 

For example: If you ask a Generative AI tool to add a lighthouse to an image, the image of a lighthouse appears in a completed state. Whereas if you used an assistive drawing tool to add a lighthouse to an image, the user decides the tools used to contribute to the creation process and how to apply them. 

Examples of Tools Not Allowed on Pillowfort: Adobe Firefly* Dall-E GPT-4 Jasper Chat Lensa Midjourney Stable Diffusion Synthesia

Example of Tools Still Allowed on Pillowfort: 

AI Assistant Tools (ie: Google Translate, Grammarly) VTuber Tools (ie: Live3D, Restream, VRChat) Digital Audio Editors (ie: Audacity, Garage Band) Poser & Reference Tools (ie: Poser, Blender) Graphic & Image Editors (ie: Canva, Adobe Photoshop*, Procreate, Medibang, automatic filters from phone cameras)

*While Adobe software such as Adobe Photoshop is not considered Generative AI, Adobe Firefly is fully integrated in various Adobe software and falls under our definition of Generative AI. The use of Adobe Photoshop is allowed on Pillowfort. The creation of an image in Adobe Photoshop using Adobe Firefly would be prohibited on Pillowfort. 

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Can I use ethical generators? 

Due to the evolving nature of Generative AI, ethical generators are not an exception.

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Can I still talk about AI? 

Yes! Posts, Comments, and User Communities discussing AI are still allowed on Pillowfort.

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Can I link to or embed websites, articles, or social media posts containing Generative AI? 

Yes. We do ask that you properly tag your post as “AI” and “Artificial Intelligence.”

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Can I advertise the sale of digital or virtual goods containing Generative AI?

No. Offsite Advertising of the sale of goods (digital and physical) containing Generative AI on Pillowfort is prohibited.

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How can I tell if a software I use contains Generative AI?

A general rule of thumb as a first step is you can try testing the software by turning off internet access and seeing if the tool still works. If the software says it needs to be online there’s a chance it’s using Generative AI and needs to be explored further. 

You are also always welcome to contact us at moderation@pillowfort.social if you’re still unsure.

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How will this policy be enforced/detected?

Our Team has decided we are NOT using AI-based automated detection tools due to how often they provide false positives and other issues. We are applying a suite of methods sourced from international universities responding to moderating material potentially sourced from Generative AI instead.

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How do I report content containing Generative AI Material?

If you are concerned about post(s) featuring Generative AI material, please flag the post for our Site Moderation Team to conduct a thorough investigation. As a reminder, Pillowfort’s existing policy regarding callout posts applies here and harassment / brigading / etc will not be tolerated. 

Any questions or clarifications regarding our Generative AI Policy can be sent to moderation@pillowfort.social.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Leaving aside the whole debate about the ethics of AI art and copyright, I think one of my biggest gripes with the AI art industry is that generative AI art has this natural tendency towards producing weird and surreal imagery that I actually think DOES have a lot of artistic merit and potential if explored and leaned into as one of the unique strengths of the medium.

Like, when AI image generators were at the stage imbetween the vaguely recognizable imagery produced by neuralblender and the type of generators we're seeing today, they were producing really fascinating imagery that I'd argue had value as a contribution to the art landscape that was entirely unique to AI, since the weird surreal quality of the images was the result of Machine Learning programs interpreting words and images in a fundamentally different way than humans do.

Like i'd argue shit like this indisputably has a place as its own artistic style/medium, it's surreal and weird in ways which are completely distinct from what a human artist could produce because its unique strengths come from details that are inscrutable, ambiguous, and hard to parse to the human mind, which a human artist would have an extremely hard time mentally visializing, let alone translatong into an art piece.

But since the main selling point of AI art for both the people making these generators and the teach aficinados who are a little too into them is that AI art can serve as a cheaper/faster replacement and/or alternative for the work of human artists, progress is measured not in terms of how well they can use and explore the distincly non-human quality of AI art, but instead in terms of how well they can supress it to make it more closely mimic the work of human artists. So all advancement in the tech is geared towards progressively getting rid of the things I find artistically interesting about the medium instead of towards leaning into them as strengths that give it a unique, artistically worthwile style.

Like, I don't think AI art is inherently "soulless" or devoid of artistic merit, but I do think the focus on trying to make it increasingly indistinguishable from art produced by humans strips away the things that gave it artistic merit to me. This thing can produce imagery that is weird and wild and hard for us to even conceive but the profit motive's tendency towards rewarding homogenization has neutered that to turn it into a factory of increasingly bland, generic, serviceable imagery.

[mediumsizedpidegon]

Another avenue I want to explore in an Amity Park is Weird scenario is all the niche sub-cultures going on.

There is absolutely NO WAY there isn't a thriving goth community in Amity Park. They're holding picnics every full moon. They're holding crafting sessions in their friends' basements. They're adopting ghost animals left and right: eight-legged dogs and blob-cats, skeletal fish and neon bearded dragons.

There's a young man called Raphael who performs live music every week at a dance club with his band: he's got a myriad of shiny piercings, and a phone camera roll full of his rabbits, Morningstar and Salem. Perhaps those ghosts are bad business like the Fentons say, but the club's never felt more alive.

The scene and emo kids are multiplying at a rapid rate. The punks and grunge folks are doing shit with textiles that makes every quilting grandmother in a five mile radius swoop in to pass on their skills. Josie and Betty, old friends who periodically upload photos online of their handmade lace, suddenly gain an influx of young folks who want to learn how to make their own ghoulish patterns.

There's a new group peeling off from the goths that dress like the embodiment of Halloween– all bones, pumpkin orange and lengths of costume jewelry.

The historical costuming community is alive and well in these times, and they fall upon the few ghosts from times past willing to share knowledge like starving wolves. Their minds are full of patterning-math and fabric prices, and their excitement is, quite literally, infectious.

A revolution starts up in food service: a great many restaurants closed or moved to follow the many people who left Amity after the ghosts first came. A pair of brothers open a restaurant that has the best Polish food around: people politely don't comment on how the owners are dressed in clothes a century out of date or how their eyes gleam. Two cat cafes open, one space themed and another with loose definitions of what counts as a "cat." Assorted coffee and tea shops dot the landscape: some serve donuts, some have cupcakes, and others have breakfast wraps, sandwiches or savory hand pies.

People that can't afford to open a restaurant sell food out of their homes, advertised by cardboard signs with phrases like CAKES FOR $10, and BARBEQUE RIBS FOR SALE painted on them in gigantic bright letters. High school students bring in bags of cookies they made the night before and completely sell out of stock before the day is done. One woman's house has no signage and yet is known by word of mouth to be a herbalist, selling tins of homemade tea blends, flowers, assorted plant clippings, and cough drops.

Someone down the street of Casper High sells small batches of eco-friendly soap at a nearby corner store.

During summer time, lemonade stands are everywhere. Some of the lemonade is made with the strange fruits from one of the parks: no one dies, so it's fine.

The Farmer's Market has gotten... intense.

[unboundprompts]

Hiya, can you write some thunderstorm setting prompts? Such as activities, dialog, how to describe the storm itself and ect? Thank you so much!!

Thunderstorm Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

The air was thick and charged with anticipation. Dark, heavy clouds loomed overhead. The atmosphere was tense, as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable release.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her in a safe embrace. "The storm can't bother us in here."

A distant rumble echoed across the sky. A warning of what's to come. The wind picked up, swirling through trees and knocking leaves from branches. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air.

He had always been a little afraid of storms. The sudden, loud noises never failed to make him jump. "Don't worry," his partner told him, "I'll protect you. Lightning doesn't stand a chance."

The storm intensified, unleashing its fury with unabated vigor. Lightning continued to crackle across the heavens, painting fleeting landscapes of stark contrast. Thunder rolls continuously, punctuating the relentless assault of rain and wind.

"Well," she said, "there goes our plans." They watched the downpour from the window, rain coming down in sheets. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

Jagged streaks of lightning illuminated the sky in brilliant flashes, illuminating the world in start relief for split seconds. Thunder followed closely behind, a deep, booming percussion that reverberated through the air and through your bones.

"This is kind of perfect, actually," he chuckled. "There's this card game I've been meaning to show you. I don't think we'll be going anywhere anytime soon."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

I also have a Patreon! Become a member to gain access to a Member's Only Community where you can chat and message other members and myself. Also gain access to my personal writing, which includes completed short stories, chapters from novels in progress, as well as completed scenes.

[happy74827]

After Hours

[Billy x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You never fully believed the saying, “wrong place, wrong time…” until now {GIF credits: moviebuffs on tumblr}

WC: 4,392 (whoops)

Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Melinda, threats, mention of drugs + blood, lots of cursing}

I watched this two nights ago with my friend (love you @yoursacredqueenmother) and now here I am… obsessed. The ending was lame ngl but I highly recommend this movie if you like messed up situations (and Josh looking spicy 🥵).

『••✎••』

You hated driving at night. All the darkness outside and the light reflecting from the headlights, it all gave you a headache.

Your eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. It was empty and you were glad. The road was bad enough, you couldn't imagine trying to deal with someone else's conversation while driving.

The only sound was the soft rumble of the car, the whirring of the engine, and the sound of the tires rolling over the rough pavement. Your hands were tense on the steering wheel as you squinted in an attempt to see a few feet ahead of you. There were no lights out here, no street lights or traffic lights, and you were starting to think there wouldn't be any towns, either.

It would be the last straw if you ran out of gas out here.

You didn't even know where you were going, you were just following the GPS's directions and praying it would get you out of this desert and somewhere safe.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, tapping the steering wheel anxiously. You hadn't seen any other cars for a few hours now, which wasn't unusual, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to be driving out in the middle of nowhere.

But of course, as all nightmares go, suddenly, your car made a strange noise and started slowing down.

"Shit!" you hissed, smacking the steering wheel. "Shit shit shit!"

The car sputtered and then finally came to a complete stop, the engine dying. You slammed your hands against the wheel, feeling tears of anger and frustration welling up in your eyes. You were completely and utterly screwed.

You sat in the car for a while, letting the silence and darkness envelop you. The heat had faded quickly as soon as the sun had set, leaving behind an eerie chill that seeped through your clothes and into your skin.

You took a deep breath and looked around, but you could barely make out the landscape around you. It was pitch black and you knew if you tried to leave the car you would lose it immediately and end up getting hopelessly lost. You weren't sure what to do.

You looked over at the empty passenger seat, now wishing more than anything that you had someone with you.

You sighed and laid your head back, trying not to think about how scared and alone you felt.

As you sat there, staring up at the roof of the car, you decided you needed a plan. You couldn't just sit here forever, and if you were going to get anywhere, you were going to need help.

You grabbed your phone from the cup holder and held down the power button, watching as the screen lit up. You had service, thankfully, and a decent amount of battery left. You unlocked the screen and opened the maps app, waiting as it searched for your location.

You watched anxiously as the small circle spun, feeling a pit of dread growing in your stomach as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally lit up. You sighed and put a hand on your chest, feeling relieved.

Zoomed out on the map, you looked for the nearest town. You didn’t find one, but you found a gas station… they were sure to have a jumper cable, right?

You plugged the coordinates into the GPS and started the car again, hoping that it would start.

It didn’t, of course. The whole point of getting stranded was that your car wouldn't start. So, you had no choice but to walk.

You grabbed a bag from the back seat and threw a few necessities inside, along with your wallet, your phone, your charger, and a small pepper spray bottle that your best friend had insisted you carry.

You were glad she'd been so insistent, you'd never have thought you'd need it.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and opened the door, stepping out into the chilly air. You shivered and closed the door, locking it, and then turned away from the car, setting off into the dark.

The moon was hidden behind thick clouds and the wind whipped around you, kicking up sand and rocks that stung your face and hands. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your coat tighter around your body.

You wished you'd had the foresight to bring a thicker jacket or something, but you hadn't planned on getting stranded.

The walk was slow, the uneven ground and lack of light making the journey difficult. You could hear the wind howling around you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You kept walking, trying not to think about what could be lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, you spotted a light in the distance. You picked up your pace, your heart racing. As you got closer, you could see it was the gas station, just like you'd hoped.

You jogged up to the doors, pushing them to open but finding them locked.

You groaned and knocked on the glass, looking inside. There were no lights on, and you couldn't see anyone.

"Hey!" you yelled, pounding on the door. "I need help!"

There was no answer, and you were starting to think no one was inside.

You sighed and sat down on the concrete, putting your face in your hands. You had no idea what you were going to do now. The stupid location said it was open twenty four hours a day, so where was the damn staff?

You were about to get up and try the door again when you were startled by the light above the doors flickered on. You looked up and saw a woman standing behind you, her dark hair flat and dull. Her clothes were a mess, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked exhausted, and when she spoke, her voice was strained but polite.

"Can I help you?"

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to your feet, trying not to look panicked. But when you noticed the name tag pinned to her shirt that read ‘Melinda,’ your fear melted away and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought no one was here," you laughed.

She didn't laugh with you, her face remained emotionless.

"Sorry, I was in the back," she explained. "What can I do for you?"

"My car broke down… honestly, I don’t remember where. It was really dark, and I don’t know this area." You shook your head and continued, "I was hoping I could buy a jumper cable or something? Just enough to get me out of here."

She nodded slowly, her expression never changing.

"Yes, they should be near the back with the other supplies." She paused, eyeing you warily. "I would offer coffee along with it, but… we're out of stock at the moment."

"That's fine," you said. "Just the cable will do."

She nodded again and stepped past you, pulling out a key and unlocking the door. She stepped inside and motioned for you to follow her. You did, and the moment you entered, a rush of cold air hit you, making you shiver.

She walked to the counter, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. She stopped at the register and began pressing buttons, her movements slow and methodical.

You couldn’t really care at the moment, as your eyes roamed the store, searching for the cables.

You walked down the first aisle, but didn’t see them. You kept walking, and when you came to the second aisle, you spotted them. You were about to grab them, but then you noticed the hall with the bathroom sign hanging from it.

Suddenly, the bottle of water that seemed so important earlier became a major regret. You hadn't gone to the bathroom since before your car broke down, and it was starting to catch up with you.

You took a step towards the bathroom, glancing back to the cashier. You could see her staring down at the counter, her fingers pressed to the keys, not really typing.

You didn't want to interrupt her, so you decided not to ask. You hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You flipped the lock, and then turned to face the mirror.

You grimaced at the sight of yourself. Your hair was messy and your face was dirty. You splashed some water on your face, and then grabbed a paper towel and dried yourself off before doing everything you had to.

You left the bathroom, planning on returning to the aisle, but then you heard a noise.

A small sound, a whimper, like a puppy in pain.

You looked down the hall, trying to find the source. It sounded like it was coming from the storage room.

"Uh, hello?" you called, taking a hesitant step towards the door. "Are you alright?"

There was no response, just another small, pitiful cry.

You bit your lip and pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness.

"Hello?" you said again. "Is someone there?"

The door creaked behind you, and then closed. You spun around, panic rising in your throat. You reached for the handle, but before you could grab it, something moved in the darkness.

You jumped back, a gasp escaping your lips.

Something moved in front of you. You couldn't tell what it was, or where it was, but you knew it was there.

You took a step back, trying to stay calm. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty.

"Please, I just need help with my car," you pleaded.

A low, guttural growl came from the shadows. It sounded like a wild animal, and when it moved again, it was close enough that you could see the outline of its form.

It was… not tall. Not in the slightest. In fact, it probably was only taller than you by an inch, if at all. It was hunched over, its shoulders curved inward, its spine protruding slightly.

It took you a long minute to realize that it was just a guy in a chair. Man, you were blind.

He had on a denim jacket, and it hung off his small frame, the sleeves rolled up. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and he was trembling slightly. That’s when you noticed the bundles of red tape around his eyes, mouth, arms, and legs. He also seemed to be bounded to the chair, strapped down and unable to move.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You stepped towards him, reaching out a hand, but he jumped out at you, attempting to attack. Though, it was pretty much useless on his end. He couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.

He started to speak afterwards, but the tape had prevented it from being coherent, and all you could make out was a low, angry rumble.

"No! No, no, no!" You stepped back, putting your hands up. It was rather pointless and stupid of you too, because the tape had also covered his eyes, you just looked like an idiot. But, still, you kept them up. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just need some help with my car!"

He growled at you, a low, threatening sound, but then he stopped, seeming to realize that you were telling the truth. He was breathing hard, and his chest was heaving, and then he mumbled something under the tape.

"What?" You asked.

He mumbled again, but you couldn't understand him. It was like talking to a brick wall.

You hesitated, but then moved forward, reaching up to take the tape off. If you had to guess that was probably what he was mumbling about.

He flinched when you touched him, but then relaxed. You peeled the tape away from his face, both the strands across his mouth and the one over his eyes, and dropped it to the floor.

He was breathing heavily, and when you looked up at him, you were surprised by how young he looked. His face was pale and his lips were dry. His hair was greasy and tangled, and the side of his head was badly burned and bruised. There was even dried blood on his temple.

“Jesus, what happened to you?"

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"Get me the fuck out of here, and I'll tell you," he hissed.

His voice was surprisingly smooth, despite how rough he looked. His words were short and sharp, like he was angry.

You weren't sure what to do, but then he started moving.

"Please," he said, his voice sounding desperate. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Just, please. Please get me out of this fucking chair."

"Did that… lady put you in here?”

"Yes, Melinda," he spat. "She's a nutcase psycho. Drugged me and… and… whatever the fuck. Just get me out of here!"

He sounded more frantic now, and his eyes were wide and pleading.

"Well, I-” You started to say, but he cut you off.

"Well what? What’re you waiting for?!”

“I- I need a jumper cable. My car broke down outside… somewhere. I'm not from around here, and- I don't know where I am. I can't exactly go anywhere until my car's fixed."

He looked at you with the most exasperated look you'd ever seen. It was almost comical, how exaggerated the expression was, but then he seemed to relax.

"Alright, how about this…” he said, his voice low and soothing. "You let me out of this shitty chair, and I'll help you fix your car. How's that sound?"

You didn't know what to say. He didn't seem like he was lying, and he seemed to be genuine about his fear. But could you really trust him? You still had no idea who he was or where he came from.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, and his expression softened.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "But I can't really help you unless I can get out of this stupid chair. And if we stay here, Melinda's going to find us, and trust me, you do not want to deal with her."

"And if she finds us, what will she do?"

"Look at Sheila over there wrapped up like a fucking Christmas tree," he replied, jerking his head towards the woman's corpse.

You gasped, covering your mouth.

"Oh my god, I didn’t even notice," you mumbled.

"Yeah, well, she's been dead for about an hour now, so," he said.

"And- and you've been sitting here, tied up the whole time?!"

"Yeah, it's fucking awful," he grumbled. "Now, will you help me, or not?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." You looked down at the remaining tape, trying to decide how best to go about it.

"Just, hurry up," he urged.

"Ok, ok." You reached for the tape, and he leaned forward, letting you pull and tug on the strips.

After a minute, you had all the tape off that was pinning him down and he was able to stand up. Again, he wasn’t that tall, maybe a five to six inches above five feet, but that didn't stop him from moving fast. He darted around the room, looking around frantically, and then grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf.

"Where did you even-"

"Not the time," he interrupted.

He turned towards you, his expression hard. He was pretty intimidating, and it wasn’t just because of the crowbar. He was skinny, but muscular, and the way he moved was fluid and agile, like a predator.

Though, you couldn’t help but noticed how attractive he was, with his expressive eyes and the way his hair was pushed back from his face. He was gorgeous.

"Hey," he snapped. "You listening?"

You blinked, and nodded.

"Sorry," you said, shaking your head. "This has just been a very, very strange night."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "That’s why when I’m done with her, we are getting the fuck out of here."

"Done with her?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. We're not just gonna let her get away with this shit."

"Um, are you sure that's a good idea? She's, like, a million times your size," You smiled at the small joke, but he didn’t seem amused at all, so you added, "Not to mention, hurting people seems like a bit of an extreme response."

"Hurting people is kinda her thing," he muttered.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

"Look, are you coming with me, or not? Because, if not, then just leave. You're already making this way more complicated than it needs to be."

"I can’t leave, not until my car's fixed," you protested. "That's why I'm here in the first place.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"Ok, fine, fine," he relented. "Whatever. You can come with me, but just don't slow me down, alright?"

"Right," you said, nodding.

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. He just started walking, motioning for you to follow. You did, and soon the two of you were standing outside the storage room, the door open and the hallway beyond shrouded in darkness.

"Alright, the plan is, I'm going to distract her and make her pay," he whispered. "While I'm doing that, you're going to grab the keys to her car or whatever and get it started. We'll meet up outside and drive off, and that'll be the end of it."

"You're… very confident for someone who was tied up to a chair five minutes ago," you had another attempt at lightening the mood, but he just gave you a pointed look.

Again, he didn’t seem amused. "Yeah, well, she's a bitch, and I don't appreciate being treated like a goddamn lab rat."

He has an odd way of speaking, you noticed. His words were short and clipped, and he never used more than he needed. It was a little intimidating, but mostly it was just kind of interesting.

"How’d do you even end up like that, anyway?"

He gave you another one of his annoyed looks. It was weird how much he could convey with just his eyes, but the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

"Don’t ask stupid questions,"

"Well, it seems like a reasonable question, considering the circumstances," you retorted.

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, of course,"

"Then stop asking stupid questions and focus on the task at hand. You get the car, I'll take care of Melinda. Simple."

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. He seemed pleased with your response and began to lead the way down the hall, moving quietly and staying close to the walls.

You followed him, keeping your footsteps light. As you went, you thought about the situation.

Melinda, in the five minutes of knowing her, never struck you as the violent type. A little socially weird, yes, but not violent. It seemed out of character, and you wondered if she had a reason for acting the way she did. Or maybe she was just crazy, like the guy had said.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him hold up a hand. You stopped, and he pointed to the corner. You looked, and saw Melinda's form moving past the entrance to the hall, a flashlight in her hand.

The man motioned for you to stay put and moved silently towards the entrance. You watched him, unable to do anything else.

When he reached the opening, he paused. He was still, and for a moment, you thought he had lost his nerve.

He didn't hesitate for long. In one quick motion, he darted out of the hall, his crowbar held high.

Melinda jumped back, the light from her flashlight swinging wildly as she tried to regain her footing. She swung her flashlight at him, and the metal bar made a dull clang when it collided with her temporary weapon.

He stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. He lunged at her again, but this time she was ready. He had stopped fast when she pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.

I guess he was telling the truth.

“Just stop, okay? You can leave now, I'll let you go. Just don't-"

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a word you say," the man interrupted, his tone low and menacing.

She stammered, trying to think of an answer. She didn't get the chance, though. Her eyes had caught sight of you, and she had noticed that you weren't where she had left you.

"Oh, oh god," she whispered, her voice filled with horror. "No, no, no. No, you weren't supposed to-"

The man swung the crowbar, and the gun flew out of her hand, skidding across the floor.

He moved in quickly, swinging his arm again. She dodged, and the metal bar hit the wall, creating a large dent in the plaster.

Melinda backed away, her hands raised, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she cried, backing away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry?! You… you drugged me and tried to…” He paused, stopping momentarily before pointing the crowbar at her face. “The point is, sorry isn't going to cut it, you bitch."

He swung at her again, and again, she dodged.

She was fast, and he wasn't, and soon, he had lost his balance. She shoved him hard, sending him flying backwards.

He landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He didn't move, and Melinda stood over him, panting and wild eyed. The gun found her hands again, and she pointed it at his head, her hand trembling.

You had to do something. You couldn't just stand by and watch him die.

You did the only thing you could think of.

You went into your bag and took out the very same pepper spray that you had been carrying since the start of this nightmare, and fired.

The stream hit her right in the eyes, and she screamed, dropping the gun. It hit the floor with a loud thunk, and you dove for it, picking it up and pointing it at her.

"Don't move," you yelled, your voice shaking. "I'm warning you. I'm not afraid to use this."

Actually, that was a lie. You were absolutely terrified, and your hands were trembling so badly that you were barely able to keep a grip on the gun.

But you couldn't back down now. Not after everything you had been through.

She had stopped screaming, but was still clutching her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She was moaning and stumbling around, trying to find her way back to the wall.

She finally found it, and leaned against it, her eyes closed.

"Please, please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please don't hurt me."

You glanced at the man. He was staring up at you, his expression unreadable.

"I should take that gun and shoot you right now," he said. "After what you did, I should kill you."

"Please," she whimpered.

He stared at her, and for a moment, you didn't know what he would do. Then, he got to his feet, picking up his crowbar as he did so.

Before she can even react he took a swing, hitting her right in the stomach. She gasped and fell to the floor, curling up into a ball.

He took another swing, this time aiming for her face.

You stepped forward, about to tell him to stop, but the blow didn't land.

Instead, he stood there, the crowbar held high. Melinda was looking up at him, her face red and streaked with tears.

"I just needed money," he spoke, his voice low and harsh. "That's it. Money. No one was supposed to get hurt, just a simple robbery with no one getting hurt."

She said nothing, just stared at him.

You, on the other hand, were frozen in shock. Robbery? He was robbing the damn station?

He sighed and lowered the crowbar, shaking his head.

"It's not like I wanted to do this, okay? I needed the money, and it was just an easy target. But you couldn't just let me get away, could you? You just had to make it difficult. Now look at the mess we're in."

"You were robbing?” Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it still cut through the tension like a knife.

He didn't turn, but his shoulders sagged slightly.

"Look, it's not what you think, okay?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I was in trouble, probably still am, and I needed money. Lots of it. That's why I picked this place, because it was an easy target. I wasn't planning on anyone getting hurt, I was just going to rob the place and get out. I wasn't expecting this crazy lady to come along."

He gestured to Melinda, who was still curled up on the ground.

"I was just trying to rob the place," he repeated. "It was nothing personal. And look, you helped me, so I guess I owe you one, or whatever. So, let's just call it even, and we can go our separate ways. Deal?"

“Even Melinda?” You asked, your voice shaking.

He paused, and his eyes flicked over to the woman on the ground, a slight grimace crossing his face.

"Of course not. She was a psychopath who tied me up and threatened me, and I'm not about to just let her walk away after all the shit she's pulled."

Melinda looked up at him, her face contorted with fear. He didn’t seem to care though, but what he did was tell you to leave, and that he'll take care of things.

So, you did, but not before grabbing your bag, and not before snagged out those car keys of hers. The odd thing you did notice though, while leaving the store, was how the entire floor seemed wet. It wasn't until about an hour of just simply waiting in the dark that you figured why.

And you realized as you saw the sudden rise of flames, the smoke billowing from the open door, that you indeed did not have that help from that mystery man after all.

Your car will remain broken.

So, I wrote this long piece of work because I went searching and found ABSOLUTELY NOTHING (which honestly it’s a crime given how fine he was in this movie — at least people realized it with Mike lmfao) so I wrote what I wanted to read.

I hope that this becomes a Rhys Montrose type of situation (For those who don’t know what I mean, this character Rhys from Season 4 of the show, You, had no fanfics on here and I basically jumpstarted it by writing like 4 of them lol) because I feel this character and movie deserves more hype and attention. Just look up edits of Billy from the movie and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyways if you’re actually still reading, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Hopefully you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🫶✨

(Also, if you see any more fics of this man… pls tag me. I’m desperate lmfao)

[glassrowboat]

Can You Trust Me Blind? Dottore.

Summary: Dottore brings a woman home for the night.

Warnings: Smut, blood, Dottore

Word count: 2,100+

Hair twirled around his finger, spinning round and round in circles the same way Dottore would take his own bangs as they slipped out of the multitude of clips and pins he tried to use to wrangle them up and out of the way, only for those two strands to inevitably fall in his face again. It was annoying. A hassle dealing with it as he tried to scrawl out notes between the blue stands blocking his vision, but the locks in his hand seemed far easier to tame as he played with them.

Soft, well taken care of, and a complete mess as it sprawled out across the pillowcase. It wouldn't be a surprise if there was a knot or two jumbled up in there.

His fault, of course.

Dottore was the one who slid his hands into her hair, tangled his fingers in it like he was grasping at a knitted scarf being slowly wrapped around someone in the dead of winter as he tugged her head back. The length of her neck exposed without a hint of shame. A perfect canvas. Just like snow after it fell, painting the world anew.

Every footstep tainting the pure landscape that went on for miles.

To taint. To mar. To ruin.

The scent of perfume had overwhelmed his senses at the time, even had Dottore halting for a moment to burry his nose into her collarbone where she had no doubt dabbed it before heading out for the night. Flowery, feminine, with a faint hint of vanilla to it that was quickly masked over by iron.

Red on his teeth, on her neck, on the sheets below as he rocked into her.

A scream filled his ears.

This wasn't like him, taking a woman back home, let alone to his bed. It had to have been over seventy- maybe even eighty- years since Dottore had gone off and done something as stupid as this. Breaking all rules of common sense (something he had once considered to be a good friend of his) and welcoming her in with little to no trepidation even as the door slammed behind her.

She had looked around curiously, eyes going over the place like she was trying to suck in every last detail of the liminal space. He never was one who bothered with decorations, so there wasn't much to recall. Maybe a photo here, a trinket there, or a jar full of something no one truly wanted to question Dottore about. Nothing out of the usual for him. However, it was nice to see someone showing such a good trait, a healthy one in this wretched world, rather than glancing back at the door like they were already having second thoughts.

She wouldn't have even been the first if that were the case.

This woman had spent a good hour by his side before his sudden...impulse. Yes, that was a good way to put it, he thought as the strands of hair fell from Dottore's fingers.

One of Pantalone's parties Dottore had only agreed to go to because the banker had stuck his foot down and demanded that he come and talk to possible sponsors for the lab himself rather than having the Ninth do all the lip service. A shame, truly, seeing as that's what the man was best at. Might as well do what you're good for in this world. That's how Dottore saw it, anyway.

He had stumbled across this one along the way.

Dottore had been grumbling to himself about having to deal with it all, especially after having to explain the current project he was working on in a way that could only be explained at a kindergarten level of intelligence for the third time as this oaf of a man kept asking the same question in different ways (like changing the font would give it meaning anew), when she had made a snide remark as he passed by.

“I'm sure your little friend there is the type to attempt putting a square peg in a round hole.”

And oh, he couldn't have agreed more.

She wasn't a sponsor herself, or hadn't seemed to be one. Actually, she waved off most of Dottore's questions about her with what could only be described as practiced ease, instead choosing to fixate on his earring. Eyes locked on the thing as she tried to figure out what was in it. Making a guessing game of it. Primordial water? Sap from the leylines? Ligma? Gatorade? …Whatever that is.

However, she proved to be preferential company over the people who were better off waving their wallets in the air than even attempting to listen to his grandiose ideas. Not even the jingling of mora in hefty sacks had been able to keep him from sharing a glass of whiskey with her. The sound of ice clinking against glass and her voice proved to be far more entertaining.

Digs at Pantalone's ‘friends’ as the banker liked to call them, making fun of their outfits (mainly on her end), and insulting their intelligence proved her to be a great way to spend the otherwise dull evening.

Decent company.

That's all it was.

That's all it was supposed to be, even as she toyed with his earring like she had any right to. Blue light reflecting off her skin.

Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to stop her.

Somehow, that hour passed by like it was nothing but a handful of seconds.

Somehow, he leaned in and kissed her as she was making another remark. Something about a Lord this or that ‘needing to let go of the fact he's bald, because we can all tell he's wearing a toupee’ when he could taste the drink on her painted lips.

Just like he could still taste her blood.

She had said right after “I don't think that shade is your color” with a laugh as her thumb brushed over his bottom lip. No doubt trying to smudge the lipstick off.

Dottore couldn't even recall his retort, no doubt he gave one, but right now his mind was running the same scene that just happened on his bed on loop rather than bothering to remember his own words. If it was truly important, he'd no doubt recall them later. After this film in his head stopped reeling, or the tape itself broke from overuse.

Thighs wrapped around his waist, squeezing him tight between soft flesh he couldn't help but worry about bruising under his touch that was urging him closer and closer as Dottore filled her to the brim. Her nails dragging along his back. Hisses of both pain and pleasure bubbling in Dottore's throat as he slowly stilled.

Her moans bordered on pornagraphic as this woman apparently had no issue being loud. Much less in his space of all things.

Their kisses as she tugged him closer. Rushed, frenzied, even when he wanted to take a step back, a big breath, and truly savor this moment as her dress slid off and onto the floor.

It all reeled back to when Dottore stood before her with the cravat he usually wore in hand.

Blue fabric hanging in between them as he pinched it softly.

The reason he didn't even get the chance to see her eyes roll back into her head from pleasure alone.

Dottore was the one who slid it off his neck. Untying it the same way he did every night after being enraptured by his research for days on end before coming home and crashing into bed. A practice so well memorized he could do so with his eyes closed. Ironic, being he was the one to ask to blindfold her.

Half of a sentence was spoken before she just stopped to stare at the cloth. Eyes darted from him and back down to it in a repeated cycle until Dottore had asked the question again.

Louder that time.

Clearer.

Leaving no room for doubt.

“Is this something you're willing to do?”

She had stumbled over herself as she got out an “okay” and “yes.”

That had to be the least sure of herself he had seen her all night.

She hadn't moved much as Dottore slid the cloth over her eyes, only reaching her hand up to rest on his arm, fingers playing with one of the leather bands on his arm as he tied it in place. Like it made it easier to take her mind off the fact she was, quite literally, going into this blind as he made sure to double, even triple, check it wouldn't budge. Not easily, at least.

But still, she let him do it.

A neat bow sealing the deal.

The idea to joke she was like a gift quickly passed as her hand fell back down as the sound of Dottore's mask being placed on the nightstand filled the otherwise quiet space. A soft, subtle click. Only their breathing and that. Echoing as if it were pans clanging against each other.

“Is that why you wanted me blin-”

“Yes.”

What she was going to ask was obvious. After all, if he was in her shoes, Dottore very well would have done the same. Asked questions. Pried into matters that don't concern him.

Red eyes had bore down on her, blue cloth covering away the chance of seeing her looking up at him with the possibility of fear crossing her face.

No panicked looks. Not this time.

It was better this way, he learned. Less chance of someone seeing the scars that plague his skin and….this was why he typically preferred doing this with someone he already knew.

Someone who already knew what to expect from him, who wouldn't suck in a sharp breath as Dottore's hand slid along the curve of her waist to reach behind and tug the zipper of that dress down for her. The little tag between bare fingers as she spoke up again.

Good, she wasn't trusting him blindly.

Maybe she was smarter than he thought, but that doesn't say much when she's in his bed.

“You know, people usually go for biting and scratching instead of something like this when hooking up with what's essentially a total stranger.”

“Yet you agreed. Why?”

“I'm already here, am I not? Would be a real shame to blueball the both of us.”

How crude, but he couldn't help but to agree as Dottore pressed a kiss to her lips even while chuckling against her skin.

And another as he slid his tongue over her lips and pushed her down onto the bed. A small grunt came from her as her back hit the mattress. The zipper already tugged down as she tried to shimy the dress off even as the mattress creaked under her with every move. Old springs that needed to be dealt with.

At the time, he had wanted to promise not to hurt her, not in a way she wouldn't enjoy, anyhow, but now she lay beside him clearly passed out. She has been for the past two hours, thirty-four minutes, and forty-three seconds now. Her back to him. Moonlight peeking in through the window, leaving dust participles visible in the otherwise dark space as the beams shone down on her skin. Lighting up the tiniest bits of blood as bright as an apple seeped through the bandage he placed on her neck after she fell asleep.

All the more visible like this.

He couldn't help but trace his fingers over the cotton.

She really just let some stranger, a harbinger, him of all people no less, do that to her. To feel her pulse under his lips and still dare to break skin. To leave her in the dark as his hands wondered.

Either this girl was incredibly stupid or had no self-preservation instincts.

Maybe both.

For now, this woman was asleep. For now, he wouldn't have to worry about her reaction to what lay under that mask. The scarred man she chose to tumble into bed with. So, for now, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

Dottore couldn't say he would be surprised either way. She sure did seem like the type that could go either way. Laying there like nothing was wrong even as he reached over her and picked up his mask again. Cold to the touch as a familiar weight filled his hands before it slid out of Dottore's fingers again as he set it back down on the table.

The scent of flowers, vanilla, and blood filling his nose.

He didn't understand this woman in many ways. A bit of a flirt, one who thought it far too entertaining to crack jokes, and who seemed all the willing to listen as he rambled on.

She stopped and listened to him.

And all Dottore could ask himself with this information was: what sort of woman was she that she would choose to lay with a monster?

[catboybiologist]

The Sierras Nevada mountains bear ancient scars.

(Pic: the valley that forms the path of the Middle fork of the Kaweah River, going westward from the Kaweah gap. Sequoia NP.)

These relatively young mountains started as a plateau in Western North America (or rather, Laurasia) during the Cretaceous and early Paleogene. But soon afterwards, rivers carved a rugged landscape. As glaciation periods began ~30-40 mya, the advancing and retreating of rivers of ice from the mountaintops scoured this further into deep, granite canyons. Their scouring revealed buried pockets of magma, solidified into domes, spires, and monoliths, many of which are named and iconic.

(Pic: half dome viewed from El Capitan. Yosemite NP.)

Now, with humans, the fate of these canyons has been varied.

The Yosemite Valley is by far the most well known and recognizable of these canyons. While it is protected as a national park, it is one of the most famous and highly visited parks in the entire US, and a world famous recreation destination. Because of this, it's well preserved, but fairly built up. The Yosemite village has full time habitation from park workers, car traffic, two hotels, restaurants, shops, and more. A natural wonder and recreation destination to be sure, and the neighboring high country is extremely wild, but certainly notably built up.

(Pic: East Yosemite valley from the Yosemite falls trail. The Ahwanee hotel is visible on the left.)

Within the boundaries of the same national park is a sadder story: Hetch Hetchy. Hetch Hetchy valley, just North of the Yosemite valley, boasts similar granite features to Yosemite itself- but some are submerged forever. In the early 20th century, the valley was dammed and flooded to supply water to the booming city of San Francisco. It still does. Some proposals have been made to drain it, but some believe that the damage is already done.

(Pic: Hetch Hetchy reservoir. Only pic in this post not by me, taken from NPS website.)

Kings Canyon represents a middle ground. In 1940, General Grant national Park was expanded to include the canyon, and subsequently renamed Kings Canyon National Park, now jointly managed with Sequoia NP. Car access is possible, and there are visitor services at the bottom, but nothing in the scale of Yosemite. A more typical national park experience, it feels a lot more rugged and wild, while boasting many similar granite features.

(Pic: looking down the paradise valley as it connects to Kings Canyon.)

And then.... There's the Kern valley.

Tucked discreetly in the Southeast of the Sierras, relatively little people know of its existence, despite being as deep and grand as the others.

The reason for this is it's level of protection. The Kern Valley is a wilderness area of Sequoia NP- the highest level of protection for conservation in the United States. In wilderness zones, no permanent structures or roads are permitted- only hiking trails and primitive campsites.

Some parts of the lower Kern fall outside of this boundary, but the upper Kern is only accessible by multiple days on foot. Numerous hiking trails cross cross the area, including the High Sierra Trail, which I completed a week ago.

It's gorgeous, and even though it's used by hikers, it feels untouched by human hands.

But.

We can show it something else.

Some kind of .... Body part. That has a day of the week based following in this website.

That's right, you fools.

THIS IS ANOTHER TGIRL TUMMY TUESDAY POST!

On August 24th, I descended into the Kern from the West via the HST, and decided to show it what I know best- some good fucking tgirl tummy.

Happy Tuesday to the freaks, the degens, and the losers, and the business they get up to, to make their lives more interesting, whatever if may be.

Tags under the cut!

@lilithtransrights @xenasaur

@whalesharkcat @godless-of-the-hunt

@anarqueeen @shakukon-to @eruditegeek

@puzzlecatt @sagasolejma

@havingsecondthots @quinns-sinns

[gardenimprint]

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[gothhabiba]

On the one hand, people who take a hardline stance on “AI art is not art” are clearly saying something naïve and indefensible (as though any process cannot be used to make art? as though artistry cannot still be involved in the set-up of the parameters and the choice of data set and the framing of the result? as though “AI” means any one thing? you’re going to have a real hard time with process music, poetry cut-up methods, &c.).

But all of this (as well as takes that what's really needed is a crackdown on IP) are a distraction from a vital issue—namely that this is technology used to create and sort enormous databases of images, and the uses to which this technology is put in a police state are obvious: it's used in service of surveillance, incarceration, criminalisation, and the furthering of violence against criminalised people.

Of course we've long known that datasets are not "neutral" and that racist data will provide racist outcomes, and we've long known that the problem goes beyond the datasets (even carefully vetting datasets does not necessarily control for social factors). With regards to "predictive policing," this suggests that criminalisation of supposed leftist "radicals" and racialised people (and the concepts creating these two groups overlap significantly; [link 1], [link 2]) is not a problem, but intentional—a process is built so that it always finds people "suspicious" or "guilty," but because it is based on an "algorithm" or "machine learning" or so-called "AI" (processes that people tend to understand murkily, if at all), they can be presented as innocent and neutral. These are things that have been brought up repeatedly with regards to "automatic" processes and things that trawl the web to produce large datasets in the recent past (e.g. facial recognition technology), so their almost complete absence from the discourse wrt "AI art" confuses me.

Abeba Birhane's thread here, summarizing this paper (h/t @thingsthatmakeyouacey) explains how the LAION-400M dataset was sourced/created, how it is filtered, and how images are retrieved from it (for this reason it's a good beginner explanation of what large-scale datasets and large neural networks are 'doing'). She goes into how racist, misogynistic, and sexually violent content is returned (and racist mis-categorisations are made) as a result of every one of those processes. She also brings up issues of privacy, how individuals' data is stored in datasets (even after the individual deletes it from where it was originally posted), and how it may be stored associated with metadata which the poster did not intend to make public. This paper (h/t thingsthatmakeyouacey [link]) looks at the ImageNet-ILSVRC-2012 dataset to discuss "the landscape of harm and threats both the society at large and individuals face due to uncritical and ill-considered dataset curation practices" including the inclusion of non-consensual pornography in the dataset.

Of course (again) this is nothing that hasn't already been happening with large social media websites or with "big data" (Birhane notes that "On the one hand LAION-400M has opened a door that allows us to get a glimpse into the world of large scale datasets; these kinds of datasets remain hidden inside BigTech corps"). And there's no un-creating the technology behind this—resistance will have to be directed towards demolishing the police / carceral / imperial state as a whole. But all criticism of "AI" art can't be dismissed as always revolving around an anti-intellectual lack of knowledge of art history or else a reactionary desire to strengthen IP law (as though that would ever benefit small creators at the expense of large corporations...).

[orchid-n-petals]

So I've already shared parts of this on a discord server, but I have to scream about Ketheric Thorm on here as well. Obviously spoilers about the character under the cut! It's a long one.

The entirety of act 2 is about him, right? Jaheira, Shadowheart and numerous other NPCs shit on him for his fickle faith. First Selune, then Shar, then, as we meet him, Myrkul. You hear about his changes of faith on a whim, you hear that he's the person responsible for the shadow curse, he is painted as a villain, plain and simple.

You can figure it out pretty early on that Isobel was resurrected and that she is his daughter; the detail as well that he wants Isobel alive is so on the nose, it gives him away completely but there are still a few questions that remain unanswered, mainly about his faith.

And then you get to the mausoleum and the picture assembles; this entire tragedy, the death of hundreds if not thousands and the complete ruination of a landscape was all, ALL because you had this absolutely wrenched, heartbroken father who had lost everything and nobody answered his grief. He was left woefully alone, the Goddess whose daughter his daughter was involved with did nothing to save Isobel.

Imagine outliving your wife and your daughter. Imagine dedicating your life to fight the Lady of Loss, your Lady of Silver's enemy, and then be left so completely alone and in silence with your grief, with your loss. It's so, so poetic how and why he turned from Selune, and it's so understandable as well; he broke. His spirit completely broke. He couldn't deal with that void of having lost the only two important people in his life, seemingly undeservedly so. He was going mad with this and a lot of his ire was likely targeted at Aylin who, in his eye, represented Selune; she's literally her daughter, after all, and it was implied that even before the deaths of his family, he sort of saw Aylin courting Isobel as Selune taking his daughter from him, despite his service. This relationship was clearly not seen by him as a boon of "giving his daughter to the Moon-maiden".

His ways in the past clearly didn't spare him from tragedy and having to cope with it (which he clearly didn't, he snapped under the weight of his grief). He was clearly angry and unable to do anything, furious and helpless, which is a dangerous combination. A good part of his first change of heart must have been fuelled by a sense of revenge.

But then Shar didn't provide any balm to his aching heart either. If you read his letters in Grymforge and in act 2, he is so focused on enacting the will of Shar because he believes that healing lies in oblivion. Everything would be easier if he could just forget, if the damn world could just forget, if nothing was remembered because without Melodia and Isobel, nothing was worth remembering.

Then came Myrkul. Literally the only god who was not only able, but WILLING to give back his daughter to him. Imagine spending your all, EVERYTHING you have to serve two gods who would not give a single shit about the greatest suffering in your life. You were basically nothing, your loyalty didn't matter for shit, everything that was taken from you amounted to no recognition whatsoever: you should simply cope and seethe. Your grief will not simply go unanswered (which is not inherently antagonising) but ignored.

And then comes this supposedly evil entity who can alleviate your pain just like that, snap of a finger and it's a done deal.

I am so serious when I say that I believe Ketheric's main incentive was to extend Aylin's immortality to Isobel as well. You can read in her diary that she feels a taint after having came back, and there are things not even Selune can cleanse, but at this point, Ketheric doesn't care about Selune, vengeance is secondary if not tertiary, he's done that war during his Shar years and what did it give him? Literally nothing.

He doesn't even care about the fact that Isobel is still her cleric. He cares about the single most important fact: Isobel is back. Life is worth living again, there is something for him, and it was not Selune or Shar who gave it to him but Myrkul, and for this singular gift, he would raze the world for the Lord of Bones. Like people can clown on him for being disloyal but the man has the loyalty of a dog bonded to its owner.

He is powerful and is willing to go to insane lengths for crumbs. What is raising a single life for a god? Nothing. It has happened and it will happen again. But Ketheric will go to the ends of the earth to serve the single god who actually listened to him. The one god who didn't ignore him.

He knows that what he does is not the morally upright thing! He is so insanely self-aware that allying with Orin and Gortash and doing this entire plot with them only to then betray them is morally reprehensible at the best of times, he knows that people hate him, etc-etc. He was a Selunite at one point and he's not stupid. He just doesn't care; it could be literal Asmodeus and he wouldn't care as long as he got what he wanted, no matter the price.

He is probably the only one from the three of the chosen who has complete clarity over his situation, he almost sways (if you pass the check during his confrontation), he is not an inherently evil man blinded by power.

But he is inherently loyal to those deserving, and as of the story's standing, completely broken by his grief. In his eyes, at this point, the only one deserving loyalty is the one who actually listened to him. Isobel lives. It doesn't matter that she hates him, that his entire life has fallen apart, that literally nothing else that is good has come of it, because Isobel lives.

I don't think he regrets a single thing. His consciousness might tear at him at the end, but I believe he would do everything over again, exactly as he did, because in the end, his daughter was brought back. Because what would a grieving, broken parent give to bring back their child? Everything. Absolutely everything. And it's such a simply given answer, no second thoughts, no doubts.

Nobody can tell me that this man is fickle. Nobody. This man was willing to burn the world to the ground, create a Boudica destruction layer all by himself for the one single thing he wanted. For any God that would listen.

I don't know, I just have a lot of thoughts about his character.

[umadosedepascal]

72 HOURS WITH HIM | Pedro Pascal x f!reader| PART IV

Written by Santa trindade

Banner by @ithedevilsbaby

Made in Brazil

Pairing : Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: The shooting in Malta keeps going, all Pedro needs is a weekend off, well…he got it. Would you go meet him for only three days? Hmmm yes!

warning/rating: [first person][unprotected piv] [SMUT] [one bite] [Pedro dominates][overstimulation][holding neck] [slaps][take off your clothes][oral m receiving/f receiving][spitting] [eating cum][champagne on body][dirty talk]

w/c: 5.6k

a/n: you guys know Pedro is a sweetheart, but for us, in bed.. he is kinda diff. It can have fluff moments here and there but what we want is to see how dominating he is…with you. HAPPY NEW YEAR! 💦

"How far would you go for a wonderful sex?"

I have asked myself this question over and over again since Pedro called me two days ago, almost begging me to go to another continent just to see him for three days.

How far would I go? Well, it's a funny question, even a little embarrassing, but here I am landing at Malta airport.

When Pedro asked if I would like to stay with him for a weekend in Malta I thought it was a joke, because until then I thought he was in another place, it is difficult to keep up with his routine, we talk almost every day texting, he calls me whenever he can, for him the end of the day is the beginning for me.

This time he looked different on the phone, his voice a little tired, but the excitement was present, a little more excited than usual...

"Hey babe, listen... I'm in Malta now, we managed to advance a few scenes, that was crazy, but... I will not shoot for next few days, then I thought you could come, who knows... Stay with me, just three days if you want..."

He knew my answer would be yes, and in less than thirty minutes an email with a ticket to Malta was there.

As soon as I leave the airport gate, I see a man holding a sign with my last name, he drives me to the hotel. The city is beautiful, but I can barely pay attention on the landscape that runs through the window, my thought are on the last message that Pedro sent me.

"I can't wait to have you here with me..."

Pedro asked me to be confidential, even though I'm a complete stranger, he doesn't need this kind of attention now, so we are staying in separate rooms, for all the rest I'm just a tourist.

The room he got for me is ridiculously huge, huge bed, huge bathtub in the background, with framing pillars, giving an almost Greek touch, I could feel Aphrodite herself here.

I unpack my suitcase and get a short and fresh dress, I go to the bathroom, ignoring the desire to get into the bathtub.

_Later, dear, later_

I enter the bathroom and look in the mirror, seeing my reflection, biting my lower lip I think

_He's worth this whole trip. It's only three days, he'll be away for months, and fuck, I miss him so much... _

After a relaxing shower I get dressed and when I pick up my phone to send him a message, someone knocks on the door.

“Yeah? Who is it?” I ask while a message him.

“Room service” the voice says behind the door.

I didn't ask for room service, maybe I forgot something at the lobby. I go towards the door and when I open it, there he is, standing at the door side smile, his hands behind his back.

Before saying anything, I just stare at him, the good old yellow Lakers t-shirt, blue shorts with green details, striped socks and NB’s. He is hot, skin slightly tanned, messy hair, everything in him was so perfect that I could stare at him for hours. Seeing him there in front of me out of nowhere made me let out an involuntary sigh, which made his smile open more and say, knowing the power he had over me.

“I couldn't wait to see you...”

I pull him into the room, he closes the door behind him and pushes me to the wall, getting my lips close to his I say:

“Thanks for the invite, too bad we can't hang out here together..” he puts his lips in my ear and says in a whisper:

“I know babe, but you know the drill...” I smile and answer

“Yeah, I know... But i'm stocked whit this room... Look at this hot tub, you crazy” without thinking Pedro slides his hand off his back and goes down my right thigh and says:

“Exactly like my room, but you know what? I had a picture of us fucking on that hot tub... That's why I brought you here” so I feel the burning of the slap where his hand caressed me.

I take his hand and lead him to the mini bar, and say that I was waiting for him to choose us a drink, he frowns looking at the options and looks at me.

“Sparkling wine?” I say.

He takes off the seal with his mouth and laughs when the cork flies up screaming “To the hot tub!”. Laughing together he serves us, we toast looking at each other, the desire is already on fire. He looks at me, glazed on me. All his movements seem to be planned to drive me crazy.

He serves the glasses again while telling me the experience has been, he tells in such an excited way that I don’t realize it I'm smiling just from hearing him speak. We drank one, two, three glasses, while we are sitting on the benches of the mini bar. He speaks and I just listen, I could stay all night listening to the sound of his voice telling about anything, right now I'm so hypnotized that I don't care about anything else.

“You are beautiful babe... Did you get ready for someone in particular?” he says in an ironic but sensual tone, while rubbing his cold hand from the wine glass under my dress, gently smoothing my thigh, his thumb drawing circles on my skin.

“I’m here to meet someone, some hot guy” I return the affection, putting my hand on his thigh, walking with my fingers and squeezing slowly. The touch is so soft, but it seems to be enough to light something inside it.

“I'm here exclusively for him.”

Pedro straightens his posture on the bench and lets out a slow sigh, staring at me, a look of desire that I recognize perfectly, he has looked at me like this so many times.

He gets up from the bench and holds out his hand, inviting me to get up too. He lays his hands on my waist and squeezes slightly, pulling me closer to him. At this moment I feel that he is already hard, his body is hot, and I can say that mine is the same . Every second he touches me, it's a second more than I want him, I want to have him inside me, fuck all I want now is him inside me.

“What a lucky guy, huh?” he speaks bringing his lips closer to my neck, the hot air of his breath, beard shaving my skin, it chills me all over, I close my eyes and throw my head slightly back, exposing my neck more as he drags his teeth through my neck, the feeling of his body touching mine intensifies, his mouth touching my skin slowly makes me release a low moan.

“You have no idea how many times I dream of you here” he says softly while I arch my back

“I imagined you in that hot tub “ he says as he raises his head pointing to the jacuzzi, his fingers now play with the straps of the dress on my shoulders, he lowers them letting them fall to the sides.

“I imagined you screaming my name while I make you cum... I imagined several times, I even dreamed about it”

My body is taken by an overwhelming, wild desire, it knows exactly how to drive me crazy, and at this moment I can only formulate a single phase in response.

“Well, I'm here exclusively for you...make your dreams come true” smiling at him I watch his look darken

“You shouldn't say things like that babe... I can be very demanding” he says and I feel his fingers walking through my arms, until our hands are intertwined. He looks at my breasts still covered by the dress, he looks up slowly, stopping at my lips and moving on to my eyes.

His look is pure fire, that brown sea seems to be burning, and I can't wait to get burned.

Pedro takes my hands and guides him to front of his shorts, even through the fabric I can feel how hard he is, as soon as my hands find his cock, he pushes his hip forward and moans low when I squeeze him.

“Are you feeling this? How did I miss those hands…”

His hands go up to my face, framing my face he passes his thumb through my lower lip, I bite and pass my tongue soon after, this makes him bite his own lip, growling softly.

He lowers his fingers to my neck, holding firmly, lowering his nails so slowly that it makes me breathe heavily, I close my eyes feeling his touch, when I feel his hands go down to my breasts I open my eyes and face those eyes that are my doom.

His hands rest on the sides of my breasts, his thumbs slide until I find my nipples goosebumps, even under the fabric of the dress they are still visible.

“I have an idea” he moves away and sits back on the bench, one arm on the bench holding a glass and the other hand he wraps the shoelace of the shorts around his fingers. He looks at me for long seconds, I stand still, my body obeys him in a way that I am not able to explain.

“Slowly take off the dress for me... “

I feel my blood boiling, my heartbeats rise to my ears, my body burns, looking for him, in need of him.

I hold the dress on my breasts and slowly lower it, feeling his eyes burn me, the fabric slips and gets tangled up on my waist, I look at him and he is drinking the champagne while squeezing his cock over his shorts, with up and down movements.

“Fuck, you are so fucking hot you know that? Take off your clothes “ I push the dress down and then it falls into a puddle at my feet, leaving me only in black lace panties.

Pedro raises his right hand and calls me with two fingers, I walk to him feeling my legs shaking, but I keep my gaze fixed on his. He pulls me keeping me trapped between his legs, his hands holding my ass.

“ Now be a good girl and turn on that jacuzzi for us huh? “ he says giving me a strong slap in my side thigh, my skin burns.

I go to the hot tub, walking through the room only in panties and feeling his eyes follow my movements, I sit on the edge of that and press all the buttons that are there, I look at him and give a shy laugh confessing:

“I don't know how to...” he approaches and as he slowly climbs the steps he takes off his shirt by throwing it on the floor

I feel my throat dry and my mouth open watching him…

_How did he look like that in such a short time? _

He quickly presses the right button and the bathtub starts to filling up, he extends his hand and calls me to bed

“It's going to take sometime to fill up”

Still watching his body change, I don't hold it and ask

“How?” he shrugs and answers “For the movie, babe”he holds my wrists and pulls me against his chest and it’s hot, I immediately put my lips on his neck, he moans and grabs my ass tightly.

I go down slowly licking and kissing every inch of slightly salty skin, I pass my tongue in a circle through his nipples, I bite gently and it makes him moan and smirk.

I raise my eyes and see that he is following every move I make. I go down slowly while my hands undo the knot of his shorts, I slide my hand inside and I feel his pulsating, I notice the small wet spot of excitement over his boxers and pull his cock out slowly, just the tip, light pink mush head already drooling pre cum.

I look at him again, he grabs my hair and says softly:

“Suck me” I run my thumb through the head, spreading the pre cum, I say:

“Is that what you want?” he moans begging “Yea yea do it” taking his hand behind my head he grabs the back of my neck against his cock, I feel his trimmed pubhair next to my nose.

On my knees I run my hands through his thighs, pull a little his boxers leaving only his cock out, hold it and pass my tongue all over his shaft, reaching the tip cleaning the pre cum, hold by the base near the balls and put it in my mouth, feeling it touch my throat. He gasps, I can feel how ready he is to fuck me any minute.

Between sucking and licking I go up, licking his body until I stand up and pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed, I climb on his lap, I sit on top of his hard cock rubbing myself, grabbing his hair and kiss him slowly, savoring his mouth, his mustache pinching me. He holds me by the thighs and gets up, he interrupts the kiss and looks at the hottub that is ready, he says:

“Let's go?”

Pedro lets me go and hold his hand guiding him to the jacuzzi, his gaze fixed on my body, as if he had never wanted me as much as he does now.

My trembling legs can barely climb the steps without faltering, when I reach the edge, I pull him close to my body and wrap the back of his neck in my left hand, causing his face to go close to mine, my right hand slides through his tummy til it reaches his hard on, holding his cock I feel him twitching at my touch.

I bring my lips closer to his with a soft kiss I go down to his neck passing my tongue slowly until I get close to his ear I say low:

“Your turn” whispering I hook my fingers to the waistband of his shorts and I take it off, as the clothes go down my body follows, his cock jumping on my face, getting on my knees to him.

I take off his shorts throwing them to the side, untie his NB’s throwing same side as the shorts. I raise my eyes to find his eyes that I believe at no time have deviated from me.

I hold his thigh with my left hand while the right goes up to to his dick and start stroking him, he sighs and throws his head back, his breath getting panting again getting heavier as I accelerate the movements, the tip of his pink cock getting full of pre cum

“Oh fuck... Fuck” he moans while I touch him, I can feel his thigh muscles contracting every time I run my thumb over the head of his cock and sucking my finger looking at him

“Let me fuck that mouth... Let me” I barely give him time to beg and start sucking him, he moans so hot, putting a hand on my head, holding my hair in his fist, dictating the rhythm he wants.

“Your mouth is so hot, so fucking hot babe” he talks among moans and hisses. I'm already dripping, the excitement taking over my body. Pedro pushes my head against his cock, making me choke, it makes my pussy pulsate.

He knows he could fuck my mouth all night long, but he remembers that there is something better waiting for him, so grabbing my hair he pulls me up, leaving me standing in front of him. He looks to the side, towards the windows that frame the landscape outside.

“This view, I thought about you several times while looking at it” he turns me around, leaving me with my back to him, I feel his skin hot a thin layer of sweat. Pedro holds my hair and with his lips close to my ear, feeling the hot and panting breath, it's all so intoxicating.

“Yeah, it's pretty “ I agree, the view is beautiful, but my body can't focus on what my eyes see, the excitement has taken over me, so I close my eyes and let the feeling of his body glued to mine dominate me.

“Open your eyes” he says with his chin resting on my shoulder, I feel Pedro lower his fingers going down my back, scratching me going towards my ass, his fingers playing with my panties, pulling down so slowly, taking off my panties he throws in a corner, his right hand between my legs rising together more until he finds my pussy, his index and middle finger sliding through my wet pussy, Pedro bites my ass and gets up licking my back until he reaches my neck, keeping his hand over my pussy and whispers in my ear:

“I came in the hot tub thinking about you, you know? Watching this view, and now... Now I'm going to make you cum the same way.”

Then Pedro slide two fingers inside me, with precise movements, I try to muffle my moans, covering my mouth, he pulls my hand and holds my arm behind my back making me get closer to him.

He is not fast, the movements are calm and precise, a calculated torture. Every time he fucks I feel my pussy squeeze around his fingers.

He takes out his fingers and circles my waist slowly, going down his hand he begins to make circular movements on my clit, making me arch my back, I'm so close to cumming, I close my eyes without feeling and he quickly orders

“Open your eyes my little bitch, open!“ he talks while fast the movements on my clit, I feel the orgasm approaching

“I want you cumming enjoying the view... Just enjoying the view babe “ he again slides two fingers in my pussy roughly, his palm rubbing my clit, that's enough and makes me cum on his fingers, he moaning in my ear satisfying himself with my pleasure. My body trembles glued to his body, Pedro gets even harder, I can feel him against my ass.

He holds my waist and turns me to him, kissing me I feel my body still shaking, recovering from orgasm.

“I love how your body responds so fucking well to me” he lowers his head and licks the curve of my neck, distributing bites

“And I want more” I say while I feel his tongue torture me, walking around my neck, I close my eyes and I feel his cock poking my stomach, leaving it wet with pre cum.

Pedro say softly everything he wants to do to me, only the sound of his low and hoarse voice is enough to excite me more and more. I put my hand between our bodies and stroke him, feeling how his cock is pulsating, how hot it is feeling his breath in my ear.

“ I want you so bad in this jacuzzi babe, but right now i need to feel you... Be inside you” Pedro says this by holding my neck so that I look him in the eyes and puts the fingers that were in my pussy in his mouth, proving my taste, he closes his eyes while savoring me, moaning.

He takes my hand and guides me to the edge, he sits down and I watch his body, his back touching the marble, he opens his legs and my eyes rise watching the shapely thighs, his cock twitching over his stomach, his hair even more shaggy.

It's an unbearable sight.

“ Ride me, sit on me….” a moan escapes from my throat with his order, as I'm going down to ride him he slaps my right thigh hard.

“Sit with your back to me, slut “ I love it when he curses me like that.

I crouch down and feel him holding his cock and rubbing it through the entrance of my folds, hitting my clit torturing me.

Pedro moans some Spanish words in my ear, hearing him speaking like that is what makes me pulse and sit on his cock, feeling him fill me completely.

With a loud moan I feel his desperate hands holding my waist, guiding the movements, back and forth back and forth…I squeeze his cock and that's enough for Pedro to bite my shoulder and hold my neck with his left hand, with his right he grabs me tightly, going down his hand to swipe my breasts, squeezing and pulling my nipples. He holds my neck and pulls me making me stick my back to his chest

“My favorite bitch you love to squeeze my cock huh? Come on, give me one fucking more... Cum for papi” he says this between bites, Pedro slides his hand until he finds my clit, his fingers circling hard making me scream, but my screams and moans are being strangled by his hand on my neck, I feel my vision dark but it's so good that I don't say anything but moans and supplications.

I grind rubbing myself, my hands holding his legs, feeling my body slip by his, I'm close I know he knows, he feels my body, he knows my body like no one else.

“Cum on my cock my little bitch! Now!” and with the order he gives I cum, strong, he lets go of my neck and holds the back of my neck making me turn to look into his eyes, he reaches my lips, kissing me Pedro swallows all my moans and screams of the spasm I just felt cumming with his cock inside me.

I start to close my legs, he growls and bites my lower lip, releasing my hair he holds my leg preventing me from closing them.

“Cum again I want to feel it” I don't know if my body can take it, but I want to give it everything he wants.

“Please please please” he lets go of my lips and holds the back of my neck, looking me in the eyes he says laughing:

“Fuck, you look so fucking sexy when you beg”

“Let's go into the hot tub, hottie” I say without strength due to the strong orgasm of seconds ago

_He wants more, I'll give it to him_

I get up feeling my legs tremble, I climb the step and sit on the edge, Pedro enters the bathtub and dives in, he crawls to me and with a movement he runs his hands on his hair fixing them, he crawls to me like a snake, he reaches the button behind me and turns on the hydromassage.

He drops his hands down my thighs to my knees, he makes me open my legs, he pushes me so that I'm almost lying down, approaching his face he begins to torture me, giving slow licks along with bites through the inside of my thighs, always looking into my eyes

“You gonna cum in my mouth now” he says and runs his tongue slowly through my clit, while whispering “Do you understand?” With his thumbs he opens my pussy to have a perfect angle, he sucks and pulls his lips, sticking his tongue in me as if it were his cock. He lifts one of my legs on his shoulder, leaving me more exposed.

I observe that his right hand goes back into the water, he's jerking off while sucking me, it's hard to keep my eyes open, I force my body to observe everything, I'm almost cumming and with weak moans I beg him to fuck me.

“You so dirty doing this” he looks at me with dark eyes and says with his mouth on my thigh distributing bites and hickeys.

“Do you want dirty?” no chance to answer he pulls me by the legs, making me scream with fright and fall into the water.

Pressing me against the wall of the bathtub he climbs a hand on my face, squeezing my cheeks making me open my mouth he spits on my tongue, waiting for me to swallow, then kissing me so hungry that I feel my lips hurt.

He kisses me and drags his lips to my ear to moan and growl my name.I accidentally scratch his back, he stop and says calmly:

“Don't do it bitch, otherwise you will regret it” he wraps his arm behind my head, making it my support, then he positions his cock in my pussy and slides inside me, I moan loudly, he puts his free hand over my lips and talks while punching me.

“Shut up you cunt hmmm” he fucks harder. The water following our movements, my mouth meets his again, I go towards his chin, his jaw, his beard scratching my face is too much for me.

Our bodies burned even in already cold water, it was as if we were able to set the room on fire at any time.

The touch of his hands on my body gives me goosebumps, it's so good, so soft but also so delirious.

He grabs my hips, pulling my body against his, his cock still buried inside me, pulsating feeling my pussy squeeze, feeling that hot pain.

His arms slide around my waist and lift me up and when I can tell, I'm out of the jacuzzi, sitting again on the edge. He gets up slowly, teasing me I can't divert my eyes from his body, the wet skin, the drops of water that run down his tummy until it drips to find his cock.

It can be the longing speaking or simply the Mediterranean air does it good, which I know is he is exhaling a sexuality that drives me crazy.

“What do you want now, huh?”

I ask while he offers his hand to me helping me get up

“We gonna wet the whole bed if we go there like this…”

“No problem babe” he says as he approaches me putting his hands on my waist, with his face almost glued to mine, forehead with forehead, his eyes never abandon me, this is something Pedro always has: eye contact.

“You can sleep with me in my room, in my bed.. if anyone see, i really don't care”

My body is taken by an excitement, I don't know if it's why he doesn't mind having me in his room, in a hotel full of actors and people who know him, or because of his cock that throbs against my stomach while I answer

“So in that case I think we have to take the risk” he smiles, that beautiful smile, he holds my hand and leads me to the bed, when we get to the foot of the bed I push him and make him lie down

“Oh.. so you want to be in control now? “ he says as he pulls a pillow under his head, giving a little smile

“show me what you want.. show me...”

I climb on top of him, one leg on each side of his hip, holding his cock I fit in my pussy and sit slowly, feeling him open me, centimeter by centimeter, this makes him release a slow moan with his eyes closed.

“Oh fuck... Your pussy is my weakness... My fucking weakness” he speaks as he opens his eyes and watches my pussy swallow him as I start riding, leaning my hands on his chest I feel his cock so deep in me that he touches my G-spot.

“Do you like it huh? Like it when your little bitch rides you” I can feel another orgasm forming on me, I take a hand off his chest and put two fingers in his mouth, Pedro sucks and then I drag the same hand to touch my clit, it makes him moan and slap my ass.

“I love to see you touching yourself babe... Fuck don't stop don't stop!”

I keep riding while I masturbate, our eyes are attached to each other my body begins to beg to cum, Pedro holds my hip so tightly that I know I will have marks to remember. He guides my movements, I'm close

“I'm gonna cum... please cum with me” I speak while grinding faster feeling my pleasure swallowing me “Please Pedro cum inside me...”

I cum on his cock and feel the hot jet of cum fill me, cumming next to me, moaning and saying disconnected words.

A few seconds pass and I'm still riding on him, trying to make my body obey and move, he looks at me and laughs.

Pedro pulls me and kisses me, in fact two desperate mouths hitting each other, uncontrolled tongues, bites and sighs.

He interrupts the kiss and holds my neck, fingers rubbing the sweaty skin, he can feel the pulsating vein of my neck, he slides until he curls his fingers on the back of my neck, holding a handful of hair between his fingers, he pulls back, making my face stand up to him, looking into my eyes he speaks calmly and slowly

“Get on your knees... I'm not done with you yet” I get up from the bed soon he gets up and holds my hair forcing me down I feel the icy floor hitting my knees that contrast of the cold with my indented body, I look at him, imposing looking at me from above, like a Greek god, he has his cock pointing at my face, his sweaty red chest, his hair sticking to his forehead the irregular breathing, his lips half-open looking for fresh air.

“Come on, walk like a good daddy's dog that you are babe” he says that and pushes me to get on all fours on the floor, crawl for a few meters, he holding my hair as if it were a leash, he pulls me and making me stop walking, I sit on my heels and look into his eyes, my hands walk through his thighs, my eyes show all the horniness I'm feeling, they talk more than my own mouth would be able to say.

“Suck very very slowly... you understood?I want you to taste me again” I nod my head confirming, licking my lips when I see his cock getting hard again so close.

_God, should be a crime for him to be so hot_

He holds his cock by the base and rubs it on my face, wetting with pre cum, hitting my mouth teasing me.

I open my lips, I put my tongue out and it sticks to the bottom of my throat, I choke a little but I don't push it away, without cutting the eye contact my nails stick in his thighs, as if they were my life-saving boat, the air that my lungs need.

“Yeah babe like that slowly...” he moans and throws his head back, both hands tangled in my hair, holding a ponytail he guides my mouth the way he wants to fuck.

Pedro moves his hands away from my head and I see that he takes a bottle of champagne, he leans a little back and pours champagne down his body, soon I feel the alcohol trail coming into contact with my lips and his cock, making it a unique and extremely dangerous flavor.

“Do you like to swallow me like that bitch? Huh? Swallow it all” he pours more champagne and I swallow everything I can, push my lips away and keep sucking only the head of his dick, sucking hard and stroking him. My eyes never abandon his, he takes a few sips of champagne, the sight of him standing, wet with champagne while drinking straight from the bottle is suffocating, I put my left hand in my pussy and play with my clit, I want to cum admiring him, I want to give him an orgasm just with his cock in my mouth.

I suck his balls, one of each, feeling them contrairem on my tongue, he moans more when I do that. So I swallow him again, wrapping my tongue to the base and sticking it deep in my throat

“Fuck, that's what I want... Touch yourself for me, you cum on your fingers while swallowing my hot cum... Do you want that hot cum in the back of your throat?” I don't answer, I just stick his cock up to my throat and suck hard, with quick movements, my fingers circling my clit hard, I feel his cock pulse and then 4 jets of hot cum go down my throat, mixing with the champagne that was still present on my tongue.

I cum with him, feeling my pussy pulsate.

“Ohhh fuck you... Ahhh babe yeah like that... Fucking bitch”

When he starts having spasms of pleasure I take him out of his mouth, looking into his eyes and making the best whore face, I run my index finger through my lips and suck, showing him that I didn't let any drop of cum be wasted.

Pedro pulls me by the hair, holding my neck tightly and kisses me, not caring about feeling his own taste, he kisses me and holds my hand, interrupting the kiss but without diverting his eyes from mine, he licks my fingers and bites gently.

“Damn...you gonna kill me…”

I laugh and sink my face into his neck, the smell of sweat, sex and skin is intoxicating, I lick the salty taste of his skin and kiss his jaw

“Babe... let's go to the jacuzzi now.. relax?”

He smiles and take me to the jacuzzi, we already know where this will probably end.

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[turtlesandfrogs]

So, here's the problem: the longer I work in gardening and landscaping, the more I care about the ecological impacts of native plants, and the less I care about aesthetics. Which is a problem, when most clients' primary concern is that their yard looks nice. Which, fair, I just don't care as much about it as they do and I feel like I could be making a bigger impact than I currently am.

So I'm thinking of quitting this job and going one of two entirely different directions, and for some reason it's rather hard to choose.

Option A is starting my own native plant nursery, which would focus on small (4 inch and gallon pot sized) native plants, with a focus on plants that are most important for native pollinators (especially those that are endangered or threatened where I am). There's some competition, but mostly at selling-to-landscapers level and not retail, and I'd want to focus on retail sales.

Option B is to get a job with the state doing some kind of ecological restoration work. The problem with that is my bachelor's degree is over a decade old and I don't actually have the kind of experience to put on my resume that would likely convince them that I can do the work (unless a combination of teaching and being self-employed as a gardener that helps people incorporate native plants and removes invasive species counts, which maybe?). So I'd probably have to take a lower level job and one that's further away to get in, and then work my way up.

Option A has the upsides of: completely setting my own schedule, getting to work with plants most of the time, getting to work with my partner, flexibility to decide I want to start teaching classes again or something. It has the down sides of having to do taxes multiple times per year, and not being guaranteed to work, and either needing to take out a business loan to get started or work at a day job to fund starting it up. Also if it fails I'll have to get another job without have professional references again, which yikes.

Option B has the upside of once you're in state work, it's way easier to get other state jobs so if I burn out of one job, I can hop to another relatively easily, will almost certainly make more money, comes with health insurance and retirement savings, and is likely the more stable option. On the down side, it would mean working 40 hours a week without getting to pick my schedule and it would be harder to take time off than it is now, I'll have to work my way up to a comfortable salary, and there's a lot less autonomy than when self employed. But I'll also have professional references out the wazoo, so finding new jobs should be easier?

One of the things that concerns me is I have ADHD and up until teaching, the longest I ever stayed in one job was almost 2 years. I taught for 4 years, then was self-employed as a gardener for 4 years, and now I've worked for this landscaping company for just over a year (and am grumpy about a) not making much money and b) aesthetics and only providing services to people who can afford us, rather than say, improving the environment for everyone). So I'm actually kinda afraid that if I started the native plant nursery, I would get sick of it after less than 5 years and be starting from scratch again. Whereas with a state job, I can pop over to a new job fairly easily. On the other hand, maybe I'm just doubting myself too much because all of those other jobs were actually really bad matches for me.

Anyway, my brain is going in circles over this. I mean, really, part of me thinks I should stay at this job even though it doesn't pay much compared to what I could make elsewhere (I have learned a lot though, which can be transfered to other jobs) just because it's so low stress compared to any other job I've had in the last decade & because the people are great and the work isn't bad. It just galls me that occasionally clients have ideas that I strongly disagree with, like cutting down a very nice magnolia tree because "it's too big" and I just have to do it because I'm an employee now. Ugh.

[ak319]

Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

《Beloved's Veil》

(Warnings: will have themes like possession/horror and abuse) This story will have more than two parts, so enjoy🌼

"Do you like it this far, Ma'am? The village?" Odai’s voice cut through the soft hum of the engine, drawing your gaze to the rearview mirror where his eyes met yours.

"Yes, it’s quite peaceful. I've never lived in a village before."

"You’ll love it, Ma’am. It’s indeed peaceful, which is good for someone like you who enjoys working in a calm environment. The beauty here adds more to the experience." He smiled, his eyes glinting with nostalgia. "This is my second time here. I once drove the Commissioner on a visit. The people are kind too."

"Mhm." You nodded thoughtfully as Odai slowed the car down on a narrow street. Your eyes wandered, taking in the surroundings--quaint homes with old wooden doors, vibrant rugs hung on balconies, and villagers watching the car with curious eyes. "But even the smallest villages have their dark sides. Crime, hardship--they exist everywhere."

"Indeed, ma'am." Odai's voice took on a more serious edge. "I kept news of your arrival under wraps, which is why no one's gathering around our cars." You glanced back at the security vehicle trailing behind, steady and unobtrusive.

"Good," you mused, lighting a cigarette, the flicker of the flame momentarily catching your gaze. "Maybe they are not happy to get a new DC so soon." You chuckled softly, exhaling smoke into the still air. "And what about the other task I gave you? Judging by those wary glances, it might be working."

"Yes, ma'am. I handled it." You'd instructed Odai to spread rumors before your arrival, whispers about your uncompromising nature--how you were a stickler for the law, an officer with unshakeable honesty. It was a strategy you'd wanted to test, a way to plant seeds before even setting foot in Al Razeh. Spread your roots before you even step into the territory, you thought with quiet satisfaction, watching the smoke curl and dissipate into the air, like invisible tendrils laying claim to the village before you.

You, (Y/n), had just been appointed as the Deputy Commissioner, DC, of a district called Kamandik, and your new office--and residence--was nestled in the village of Al-Razeh. It was a quiet place, far from the hustle of the city, a change you welcomed after the long, exhausting journey. Coming from a distinguished family, it almost seemed like destiny had led you to this path. Your lineage boasted army officers, doctors, and civil servants. Your father, a retired military man, had served with distinction, and your mother, an army doctor, had met him through her service. It was that kind of background that had built your discipline and drive.

"Is the Assistant Commissioner going to be there?" you asked, gazing out at the unfamiliar landscape as you approached.

"He will arrive tomorrow, ma'am. His flight got cancelled for today." Odai replied.

Good. You felt a sense of relief. One less formality for today. You leaned back into the seat, letting the exhaustion sink in, already imagining the stillness of your new residence awaiting you.

═════ ◈ ═════

"But I want you to work with me, my son," the old man said, his shivering hands reaching out as his weak, but soft gaze fell upon his youngest. Habib--the kindest, gentlest, and most beautiful of his sons--stood there, looking down at his father. His pale green eyes and thin, golden locks were a wonder, something the village marveled at since his birth. His father, prayed each day that God would grant his son a life as beautiful as he appeared, for Habib had known nothing but pain because of this beauty--this curse.

"Baba, you know they don’t want me to," Habib began, his voice barely a whisper, catching in his throat before it could fully form. The familiar heaviness of his situation silenced him completely as soon as his oldest brother, Basim, strode into the room with an air of command.

"Baba, how many times must we go through this?" Basim’s voice cut through the room like a blade. "I told you--he is not working, and that’s final!"

"He is going to work in the store I go to! With me! He has to do something."

"Him? Are you serious? " Kadir despite being not having the desired strength at the moment stood up from the bed and Habib immediately supported him, his own eyes casted down in his brother's presence.

"Basim, you seem to forget that I am still alive," Kadir said, his voice low but firm, "and I am very much capable of making decisions for this house. Do you hear me?" His words hung in the air, heavy with authority, and Basim, eyes flickering between his father and younger brother, clenched his jaw before storming out of the room, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

Habib finally exhaled the breath he'd been holding, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Don’t be afraid, son," Kadir soothed, resting a reassuring hand on his son's cheek. "I’m here for you. I will always be."

Habib nodded, pressing his lips softly to his father’s weathered fingers. "Just follow what I tell you in the shop," Kadir continued, "and you’ll learn the work in no time."

Outwardly, the Jafaris appeared to be a humble, respectable family--Kadir himself was a respected elder in the community, with his two eldest sons already married. But beneath the surface, the Jafaris were infamous. And though it seemed like many things, perhaps the real reason for the rumors that clung to them like shadows was just one thing--Habib.

Habib woke with a start, his heart pounding as he scanned his dimly lit bedroom. The narrow terrace window was open, a detail he couldn't remember opening himself. No, wait, he had opened it earlier, hadn't he? The memory was foggy. He looked down at the book in his lap, the dim light from the terrace lamp casting strange shadows around the room. Quickly, he turned on the side lamp, its bright light offering a small sense of relief.

He ran his fingers over the pages of The Book of Kings. The words seemed to mirror his own sorrow: “On my heart, this pain and sorrow are so abundant, in mourning for you, the assault on my anxious heart is endless. O heart, you are with me, but you constantly mourn the lost beloved. Every day, we remember you, and at night, we weep for your love, as if my heart cannot reach any solace from your absence and this pain has no remedy.”

Indeed, there seemed to be no remedy. The ache and torment felt as fresh and unyielding as if it had happened just yesterday.

His footsteps were light as he stepped out of his chamber, and with a whispered prayer, he made his way to the kitchen. It was 10 p.m., and most people had gone to bed by 9. He had missed dinner once again. The worried faces of his parents flashed through his mind, contrasting sharply with the indifferent expressions of his brothers.

As he approached the dishes stacked in a corner--likely left there by his mother--he began to prepare his plate. Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, signaling someone's presence behind him.

'No, please-'

The words of the cleric, Nazim, echoed in his mind: “Remember, my boy, never be afraid of anything, for these things feed on fear.” Despite the reminder, he remained paralyzed, his fear not only of the unknown but also of the possibility that it might be Basim, who wasn’t pleased with what Father had said earlier.

The plate in his hand nearly dropped when the person touched him. "God!--Uncle, it’s me, it’s me, Rahim. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...""

"It’s alright, Rahim." The teenager, Rahim, was the son of Basim, his oldest nephew, and also his best friend. "Why are you awake?"

Rahim smirked and leaned against the counter. "Just couldn’t sleep," his playful demeanor shifted to concern as he took in his young uncle’s appearance. "Uncle... were you sick again?"

"I’m always sick, nothing to worry about."

"You should take better care of yourself. I worry about you. And..." Rahim hesitated, "I doubt that--"

"Rahim, I’m fine. And no, it’s gone. Long gone. Believe me. I’m just... going through some side effects."

"Wow, all that pain and now side effects too, even when you’re free from it? It’s been years! You should see an actual doctor." Rahim was just a toddler when his uncle was afflicted in a way he never imagined possible. Yet, he remembered it all like a vivid nightmare.

"Rahim, please. I am fine," Habib reassured, his voice soft but firm, trying to mask the lingering shadows of his past.

The boy decided to drop the topic for now with an unconvinced sigh. "I brought those pastries you love."

"Why?! You know Brother Basim--"

"Uncle, please. It’s my pocket money, and I get to buy whatever I want for whoever I want." Rahim smiled, and Habib couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound light and comforting in the quiet of the kitchen.

Rahim’s grin widened. He always loved seeing his uncle, who was more like an older brother to him, happy. "Shall I make tea?"

"No, I'll make it. I don't want you waking the whole house."

The two chatted softly, the kitchen door closed to keep their voices from carrying. Basim would be furious if he knew they were up.

"Oh, how could I forget to tell you! When me and my friends were playing, we saw the new DC’s car. She’s here. And from what we’ve heard, she’s very upright and strict too. Which I think is a good thing, considering the previous one was lousy as hell."

"We’ve never had a female DC before, have we?" Habib wondered aloud, trying to recall if he had ever seen any officer around or remembered the last DC’s name.

"Um, no. And do you know her bungalow walls are so high, you can’t see past them! Imagine how cool it must be from the inside. Plus, all the cameras and stuff, which I heard they’re going to put around the village too."

"Mhm, nice." Habib nodded, his smile fading slightly as he sipped his tea. The conversation about the new DC and the changes in the village did little to distract him from the quiet sadness that lingered in his heart.

➺Part II

[the-timewatcher]

A disgruntled Tumblrina (gender-neutral) made a website and why you should too.

Or "reject social media, return to personal websites".

PART 1: THE PART WHERE I CONVINCE YOU TO MOVE TO PERSONAL WEBSITES

So, the Web 2.0 social media infested landscape seems to be crumbling before our very eyes. Reddit's leadership is increasingly greedy, Twitter is sinking under the weight of Elon's massive, yet increasingly fragile ego, Tumblr is slowly turning into another lifeless corpo-fest, complete with the layout, Instagram continues to be vapid and soulless and Facebook seems to be going the way of MySpace.

(feel free to check the alt text on these, btw)

In these troubling times, where everything looks the same and you're expected to be milked for every dollar you're worth, what is a disgruntled Internet surfer such as yourself to do? Move to an untested alternative that's bound to get overrun by fascists thanks to poor moderation? Stay the course on the sinking ships you're used to?

Well, what if I told you that we've solved this problem way back in the 90's and early 2000's and were merely duped by the Big Zuck into forgetting our legacy? What if there was a cure for the sanitized, dull social media hellscape?

It takes a bit of work, when compared to just using a social media site, but even if your particular use case makes switching difficult (ex. an artist looking to promote their work), it's still a good secondary option to consider.

The core appeal is the ability to customize and individualize, make a corner of cyberspace unabashedly yours,

It can also be an exciting avenue of creative expression, giving whatever you want to say a unique coat of paint,

Most website hosting services are a bit more lax about what you can do on them, due to changes in the profit structure (rather than depending on advertisers and investors, they either have a premium option to give supporters perks, have another product, or, in the case of paid services, you renting that space IS the product),

If you want your website to be more accomodating and accessible, you don't have to file tons of feedback - do it yourself,

If you'd like to connect with other webmasters and promote each other's websites, we have webrings - sets of circular links that connect websites with something in common, be it a topic, aesthetic or friend group,

You're less likely to have your stuff purged by an ill-advised change in policy (especially if you have a backup of your files somewhere),

The more people do it, the less power those massive social media corpos have over the internet,

It can be a load of fun!

If I have you convinced, keep reading into part 2. If you just wanna see what I did, skip to part 3. If neither, feel free to continue scrolling. I won't hold it against you. You'll be missing out, that's all.

PART 2: SO, YOU WANNA MAKE A WEBSITE!

Good choice, here's some resources!

sadgrl's absolute beginner's guide to Neocities - what it says on the tin!

W3Schools - a more in-depth tutorial site, a learning resource so excellent it substituted for what I was supposed to learn in technical highschool (because our teacher just told us to go on W3Schools instead of teaching us shit)

A list of free layouts for your website - whether to use as a base to learn from or to simply take for yourself,

Neocities - the posterchild for free website hosting for personal websites. Doesn't allow video or audio, but you can get around that by linking those files from elsewhere. Beginner-friendly to a fault - once you have an account just drag and drop your files in,

Gitlab (& Gitlab Pages) - a more advanced option, but it has a few advantages of its own. Gitlab is a website hoster second and a version control service first - which is programmer speak for "keeps track of changes in your code and stores a backup of it online". it helps a lot when working on multiple devices or co-writing with a friend. And secondly, you can use Gitlab Actions to automate putting your website up (even on Neocities, like I do!)

My askbox - I am not joking, if you have any questions about any of this, I'd love nothing more than to help you out!

But with most of my indie web propaganda out of the way, it's time.

PART 3: Welcome to Timewatcher OS.

Of course, because I couldn't be normal when it comes to making a website, I had to turn it into a fake operating system. Each subpage is an "app", opened in a separate embed window. It has unlockable wallpapers (no pay2win, prommy). There's bideo games on it! I even made a music player for it so I can share my incongruent music tastes!

Like I said in my Tumblr bio, if I ever go radio silent for more than a month, it means I've gotten fed up with this hellsite and moved to my own homepage permamently. And I highly advise you make an option like this for yourself too! Lastly, if any of y'all would like to start a webring, do let me know in the askbox - I'm down to manage it if I'm not alone in there.

Anyways, I hope I convinced you to make a website, or at least check out some of the cool sites you've been missing out on! Hope to see you on the Old Web!