#having a bad time folx

[opha]

commercially available image generators consume an average 3 watt-hours per generation. running the AC for an hour is a little over 1000. we usually measure power in kilowatt-hours, btw, because watt-hours are so negligible in scope that you can pedal a bike for an hour and have enough power for 33 image generations, or running a single 25 watt light bulb for 4 hours.

as for water, about 500ml for anywhere between 5 and 50 generations (depends on location and season). all of that comes from data centers, which often (but not always) reuse the water and about a third of which are using non-potable wastewater for cooling in the first place. you know, the stuff you personally use up to the tune of 30-50 gallons per day by flushing the toilet, showering, running the washing machine, etc.

training large language models does consume much more energy, but it's still pretty small fish compared to any other tech industry, and that's not something that is constantly happening.

please don't be fooled by contextless figures and inaccurate analogies slung by obvious clickbait articles like "you'll be astonished how much power it takes to generate a single image!" and other people who have a vested interest in fearmongering misinformation. there are plenty of real problems in this sector, like the use of labor exploitation in the global south in fine-tuning LLMs.

See also, "We're in a drought; conserve water!" Meanwhile, bottled water companies and golf courses for rich folk empty the aquifers.

[catboyjorts]

.

[mothlover69]

"The perfect man doesnt exi-" you're right. He doesn't. Hes an anime character. An anime clown if u will

[steviebbboi]

Old Bonds, New Beginnings

Pairing: Biker!Ari x F!Reader

Part 1/2

Word Count: 8.4k~ (i think i have ruined myself)

Summary: You and Ari grew up together as childhood best friends to now reluctant strangers. Let adrift by leading the "Red Sea Roaders MC," and with you taking over your father's floral shop, the two of you are polar opposites. What happens when Ari takes a risk in rekindling a connection with you?

Disclaimer: This is from the results of this poll~ i'm hoping that biker!Ari is as satisfying to read as it was to write him. This is a two-parter though so peep what is to come too! We don't see too much biker interaction in part 1 but don't worry, we will 😏 also, this work is unbeta'd so any mistakes you see are totally my bad!

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; semi-mentions of assumed violence, mentions of illegal activity, mentions of underage/teenage 'first times' (with reader being in freshmen yr into sophmore yr, while ari was junior yr into senior yr of highschool), explicit language, explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), p in v, size kink, mild angst and grief from both reader and Ari, nostalgia, fluff, SQUIRTING galore, Ari is worshipping Reader (as he should), slight/mild dumbification, overstimulation, reader is thIQUE, Sharon is mentioned but not featured, highkey mutual pining and love, *smut is after the floral cut!

*if i have left anything out, please feel free to lmk!

It means so much to me for my work to get out there in reaching other folx who may also really enjoy Biker!Ari and Reader. If you could kindly reblog my work as you enjoy reading it, I would be immensely grateful. Every reblog also serves as such a motivator to help me continue writing~ thank you so very much for interacting with me and hoping to connect soon <3

Gathering twine, you wrap the delicate stems together mindfully as you feel a smile grow upon your face. The bouquet held together a mix of peonies and geraniums – two underrated flowers, in your opinion.

Involuntarily, you start humming that tune that you heard earlier that day as you continued to strategically put together delicate arrangements. So caught up in the song, you didn’t hear the store bell ring as you went into the backroom for more twine. 

“Hell-ooo? Can I get some help here?” A voice complained from the front. You quickly placed the flowers down and walked through the doorway to see a man looking at his watch impatiently as he waited for you to reach the front desk. You saw his face change into something akin to surprise as you noticed his impatience shift into a semblance of a smirk as he scrutinized you.

“Ugh, here we go.” You thought to yourself as you internally rolled your eyes at the man. He was quite handsome, but not really your type. His hair sported a nice quaff to it and a thin layer of hair covering his face. He was donning a bold, red suit and a nice pair of Ferragamos oxfords. Undoubtedly, a man with money. What he was doing in a flower shop downtown– you speculated that he was definitely picking up for his wife, or girlfriend. 

“Or both,” You thought with a small smirk as you greeted him. 

The man proceeded to put on his charm as he grinned at you. “Hey sweetheart, I was wondering if you could help me figure out the best flowers to pick out for my girlfriend?” 

“Which one?” You asked him. He blinked and responded dumbly, “W-which one?” 

You blinked back at him innocently, “Yes…as in, which kind of flowers were you thinking of?” 

The man paused and closed his eyes in embarrassment. “Ah, right.” As he gathered himself, you couldn’t help but purse your lips to continue covering your knowing smirk as your previous theory just got confirmed. Works every time. 

You straightened up as he continued, “I was thinking maybe roses? That’s classic ‘romance’ that you can’t really go wrong with, right?” 

Responding with a resounding hum and tilt to your head, “Roses are a classic. You could always put together a few different kinds, depending on the occasion. Is there something specific that you’re trying to convey?” You lead him towards the back of the store towards some pre-wrapped rose bouquets sitting waiting to be picked.

“I showed up late to a date so I figured I’d do something nice to make up for it, y’know. Make her happy, I guess.” The man said nonchalantly as he placed his hands in pockets uncaringly.

You’re turned away from him, thankfully, as your eyes really did roll this time. “You would probably make her happy if you were on time instead.” You thought sardonically. You see men like this everyday, coming into your store and having so many assumptions on how to make up for careless mistakes that never get rectified. Most men tended to think that flowers would be enough, and your heart went out to every single one of their partners and wished them better.

“Sure, hm, maybe these?” You turned with the bouquet in hand and noticed that he stood way too close to you, and from the look on his face, he knew it too. 

You felt your hackles rise as you uncomfortably cleared your throat and used the bouquet as a divider between the two of you to create some space. You held it out to him and backed up a few feet, “What are your thoughts?” 

Unfortunately, it’s these same men who also take one look at you and decide that you’re worthy prey enough to make you girlfriend #5. 

The man simply smirked at the distance that you created and said, “Looks great. Let’s do it.” 

You muttered out a relieved “great” and started to walk towards the front of the store again to ring him up, eager to get this sale over with so that he could leave. Unbeknownst to you, the man was staring at your ass as you walked away and muttered out a quiet, “damn.”

You turned to stand behind the counter and proceeded to wrap up the bouquet into a protective layer of transparent plastic when he said, “So, what’s a pretty thing like you working in a shop like this?” 

Not even bothering to hide your dismayed reaction, you let out a sigh and responded, “Well, like most ‘pretty things’ do, I decided to own my own shop, just like this.” You ended your reply with a sardonic laugh. The mocking tone in your voice was unmistakable as you slid the finished product across the desk for him to take. 

“That’ll be an even $85, sir.” You looked at him blankly as his eyes narrowed in annoyance, both from your sarcasm and when hearing the price.

“$85 for this heap of crap that’ll die in a few days?!” He exclaimed disbelievingly. 

You wanted to respond with, “It’s not like you can’t afford it, asshole,” but your head won out and spoke for you, “They’re in season– but considering that they were already prepared for you, this is a pretty considerate price, sir.” 

The man just let out a huff and was about to argue with you more until his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the name, rolling his eyes. Given how he proceeded to neglect your current conversation and went to text harshly instead, you predicted that it was either work or the aforementioned girlfriend. Which number, well, given the excessive frown that was adorning his face, you’d guess #1.

The man shoved his phone back into his pocket forcefully and pulled out his wallet from the other. “‘Considerate’, my ass.” You heard him whisper to himself before saying loudly, “You’re lucky that I respect the nature of good business, sweetheart.” You nodded your head mindlessly as you swiped his card with a smirk. You’re guessing that it was girlfriend #1, for sure.

“Suuuure, pleasure doing business then, sir.” You tell him with an overgrown smile on your face and wave. 

He rolled his eyes at you and left with flowers in tow as he rushed out. Looks like he was going to be late again. Now that you were alone, you let out a shameless, hearty laugh at your own quips as you started towards the back area again to continue your original task. Right before you turned though, you heard the roves of familiar engines revving outside. Leaning forward and resting your elbows on the counter, you stared at the incoming troves of motorcycles as they slowed into a stop for the bar across the street. 

Resting your face in your hands, your eyes caught sight of one bike in particular, or rather, the owner of said bike. 

Ari Levinson, your childhood best friend. Certifiably scary to public onlookers on the outer circle, but huge fluff ball on the inside and to all those that actually knew him. You grew up together, given that both of your father’s were friends and next door neighbors. You remember fondly of a time when you and Ari were chasing each other with water hoses in your front lawn, so young and lively. He was a few years older than you but that didn’t stop you both from playing together from sunrise till sundown.

Your smile waned as you were brought back to reality. Nowadays, you rarely have the chance to catch up with the guy, much less chase each other with water hoses. The reality was that the happy go-lucky kids that grew up together, grew apart. Ari took over the club once his dad died, and you were just sort of…forgotten about. You distinctly remember getting rejected over and over again. 

“I can’t see you right now, bun.” or “I’m really busy, we’ll catch up later.” 

There were just too many deflections and excuses, so many where you just stopped trying to reach out. You moved away for college and came back to help take care of your dad’s floral shop now that he’s retired. Ever since you moved back a few weeks ago, Ari always smiled at you fondly and you always smiled back but that was the end of any interactions that you’ve had. It felt like that part of your life ended when Ari took the club 10 years ago. You have no idea what Ari is really like now either. Perhaps, you’ve become a part of the outside circle looking in.

Of course, it didn’t stop your crush on him. How could you not have feelings for him? Standing at 6,’’ burly and massive build, full beard and lush hair that curled at the nape of his neck and shagged around his ears, whilst donning a classic leather jacket with silver adornments and all. He was gorgeous, was all man, and so deliciously off-limits. 

For a variety of reasons, one of those being Sharon. Ari’s on/off girlfriend since high school where you all met– classic mean girl bullshit, in your opinion. Not only was it the club keeping you two separated, but also Sharon’s decisively demanding and obsessed nature with keeping your hang-outs limited and separate. 

As far as you know, they were ‘off’ and have been for a long time. But it doesn’t stop the glares that you receive from her to this day. You laugh about it now, but you do remember all those ‘private chats’ that Sharon pulled you aside for to warn you in ‘backing off’ from stealing Ari’s time. Luckily for her, you and Ari were starting to become on the outs at that time anyway. It was annoying to deal with, but it served as more reinforcement for you to continue forward with your life without him, detached and ready to move on and to be fair, you did.

You graduated college, took on a stable job, and built a community before moving back home. You were fortunate enough to still have some of that now that you’re back too. As for your own romantic life, there have been some hitters. A few who have stayed for some time, either resulting in more heartbreak or a complacent parting.

But never did any of those partners linger and stay with you like how Ari has since you were five years old. You barely knew each other now, there was an animosity there that felt so unresolved but neither of you ever talked about the past, nor drifting apart. Despite this, he still hasn’t really strayed from your heart, not really.

Brought back to the present, you watched as Ari climbed off of his bike, and playfully pushed another biker around before they all started entering the bar. Right before he entered, Ari looked behind his shoulder and you started a bit because he was looking back at you. And you just got caught staring at him first. 

You flushed and looked away a bit until you realized that playing it off would probably be even more embarrassing than it would to confront it. You met his stare through the window and caught a smirk on his face as he waved at you. You let out a small laugh and waved back sheepishly. At your response, Ari gave you a gentle smile before tilting his head towards the bar, as if he was inviting you to go over. 

You blinked in surprise and instinctively, you gave a regretful shake of your head before waving over at the register to indicate that you were still working. Ari looked disappointed but nodded anyway before giving you one last wave. You responded in kind and he headed inside. 

At his departure, the only thing that you were gazing over at were these motorcycles lined up in similar fashion. The main thing that has held you back from even approaching Ari again was glaring right back at you. As you turned to the back once more, you mindlessly continued to put together bouquets as you got lost in your thoughts once more. 

You were both adults now, you could go over and say hi. Hell, maybe even spark a conversation about the past for nostalgia’s sake. But it didn’t change the fact that Ari ran a biker’s club that called themselves a ‘club’, but also did very not so legal things. 

Rumors started when other biker clubs started coming down from nearby towns or cities. A variety of men and women adorning different cuts and entering the bar across the street wearing stormy expressions. Increased police force around town hasn’t escaped people’s nosy gazes either. It was known that there was obviously something more to the group but nobody questioned it because, well, there really wasn’t any reason to do so.

Beyond a few bad apples here and there, the members of the club were relatively respectful of everyone residing in the neighborhood. Most members themselves were from home, and were known to help out here and there, whether it be through making public donations to charity fundraisers or helping a person put their groceries away. 

No doubt, knowing Ari since you were a kid, you suspect that most of the peace has been kept because of him. In retrospect, you weren’t surprised that Ari started pulling away when he did. You both knew what taking over the club would mean for him, and you remember the constant conversations, some tear-filled, of Ari experiencing the pressures of taking the mantle from his father. 

You tried your best to comfort him, given what little you did know about the club, but you knew that Ari didn’t really have a choice. While you didn’t remember much about the club when his father was running it, you did remember the strain it had on his relationship with Ari. They weren’t particularly close but they loved each other, in their own way. Being a witness to it helped you become a support system for Ari (and in alot of ways, Sharon too). 

While it hurt to be discarded by him the way that he had, the years have taught you resiliency and forgiveness that people are responsible for their lives and what they make of it. You couldn’t fault Ari for trying to do the best with his life as well. 

You kept these thoughts close to you as you closed the store for the day. You were pulling down the gated shutters of the store to lock it up when you heard him. 

“Finally closing down for the day, bun?” Turning around quickly to face the deep, baritone voice that has haunted you since you were younger, you see Ari smiling at you with upturned lips and his hands in his jacket pockets. 

You gulp down a swallow of surprise at the fact that the boy that you have had lifelong feelings for was now a man, who was actually looking and talking to you. You haven’t heard that nickname spoken from him in a long time, and blinked once or twice before responding, “Ari, hi, yeah, I’m about to head out.” 

Hearing your own voice, so breathy and soft, made you flush once more. Ari only held his grin at the sight and said, “Would you wanna come get a drink with me and the guys before you head out?” 

Instinctively, you shook your head once again at the offer and gave him a reluctant smile. “It’s getting a little dark and I was planning on walking home.” 

On hearing that, Ari frowned, “What do you mean, don’t you usually drive into work?” 

You frowned at his questioning tone and replied, “I do, but I had to leave the car at Tony’s shop since last week. They’re still waiting for the parts to come in before they could fix it.”

Ari was still frowning as he listened to you, “Bunny, that’s at least a 20 minute walk. It can get dangerous around here this late.” 

“Ari, it’s fine. I’m a big girl now, y’know.” You said defensively. You had no idea where he got off scolding you. It’s not like he was around for you to tell him anyways. 

Ari sighed and gave you this look as if he were supposed to be told. “I know that, bunny. Trust me, I know.” You frowned again, slight suspicion flooding you at his tone. Especially at the latter half of his response, what is that supposed to mean?

Ari placed his hands on his hips before sighing out, “Okay, come get a drink with me and I’ll take you home.” 

Your eyes widened at his offer as he sounded so resolute. “W-what, no–Ari, I’m fine. If I get going now, I’ll make it home before the sun completely sets.”

He returned your defense with his own, “Yeah, well, just because it’s not dark out, doesn’t mean that something won’t happen.” 

You released a disbelieving scoff, “Dude, what do you mean-- what could possibly happen?” 

Ari stammered out, “I mean, I dunno– bears, wolves! One of ‘em could just come out as you’re walkin’ on the road and then what?” He held out his hands as if it explained everything.

You stared at him with your mouth slightly agape and your brows furrowed at listening to his excuse. You stood there in silence and before you could stuff it down, a smile started to creep upon your face and you let a short laugh that fully erupted into a full giggle. Watching your reaction, Ari also closed his eyes in mirth and started chuckling with you. 

You were still giggling as you say in-between catching your breath, “Do you mean to say, lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my!?” You finished with a mocking flourish before releasing a bellowed laugh, your eyes squeezed shut in giddiness.

Ari was full on laughing with you as you made the remark, “Okay, Dorothy – you could shut up now. I heard it as soon as I said it.” 

Letting out one last resounding exhale, “It’s okay, Tin-man. I think that I’m familiar with the yellow brick road. I don’t need you to be so worried about me, okay? I’m fine.” 

Ari’s eyes glinted at your retort although he sobered up at your continued reassurance. “What- you don’t wanna spend time with you best friend anymore, is that it?”

You recognized the teasing glint in his tone but took notice of this sadness in his eyes. You felt genuinely confused, and concerned, at the sight. Ari was always noticeably mellow and calm when he was around you, even during the smaller interactions that you’ve had throughout the years. This look in his eyes though was new. Or, maybe you never got close enough to really see it. 

At that thought, your own sadness seeped in. “That’s not true, Ari. It’s just…” You trailed off, not being able to figure out how to communicate with this person that you didn’t know anymore, but felt so deeply for. How do you tell someone that you miss them, miss their presence, but that time has done its job of making you feel like strangers? That, he, was what caused them to spend time apart in the first place? 

You moved on from that. It’s not like you’re aiming to make him feel sad or anything – you just felt so uncomfortable around him despite that moment that you two just had. It was just another reminder of what life would've looked like if you were still in each other’s lives.

Ari let your silence permeate in the space as he finished for you, “It’s just that I haven’t been your best friend in a long time.” 

You just looked at him sadly and nodded softly. “It’s…been a long time, Ari.” He looked noticeably sad hearing that as you continued assuringly, wanting to get him to smile again. “But..I miss you lots, Tin-man.” 

Echoing the mirthy moment that you had just a few minutes before, the sadness in his eyes was replaced with an affection that you also haven’t seen from him in a long time. It made you feel affectionate in return as you took the invisible olive branch that was present and leaned forward to grab his hand in yours, the same way that you would when you were younger.

Ari let out a breath at the touch of your soft skin on his calloused hand. He gave you a soft smile again while he squeezed your hand in relief. He pulled you forward, the move causing you to let out a surprised squeak, and tugged you to be cradled in his large embrace. The top of your head barely met the middle of his chest as you stood ramrod still, unused to the intimacy that you were now being bestowed. 

He seemed oblivious to the stiffness in your body as he only tugged you in closer and rested his head on yours while his arms hugged you around your shoulders and waist. As you stood there, with Ari hugging you, you became increasingly relaxed and moved to put your own arms around his thick waist. At the return of your embrace, Ari let out another relieved sigh and squeezed you tighter. You both started to sway a bit as time went on, the hug never turning awkward nor tense as hands also started to roam reassuringly across waists and backs. 

“I’m sorry, bunny.” 

The apology though did take you off guard. You didn’t tense up but you did stop swaying. You paused before responding, “It’s okay, Ari.”

There was a lot that you wanted to say in that moment, and ask him, but you felt hesitant to even go down that path. You certainly didn’t expect for this to happen this morning, and it was overwhelming enough that you were laughing with and hugging Ari. The fact that he actually apologized opened up a depth and well of emotion that you didn’t know needed to be opened until he said the words. It seemed like Ari understood that as he pulled back and looked into your tear-shining eyes gazing back up at him. He knew that you’d come to him when you were ready.

One hand left your waist to caress your soft cheek, Ari’s thumb brushing underneath your eye to catch the tear that did fall over. You closed your eyes at how suffocatingly close he felt, his warm, embracing body pressed against yours so intimately. 

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” Ari whispered to you quietly as his fingers moved to caress your hairline right by your temple. His eyes looked at you so fondly and intensely as he continued to touch you. Almost as if he was trying to paint a vivid picture of you with his touch into his mind.

You felt so mesmerized by his gaze as your hands unconsciously caressed him back as your hands resumed making small, slow circles on his vast back. “What do you mean?” You whispered back. 

Ari let out a quiet and humming chuckle, “Aw, don’t tell me that our first kiss was that bad, bunny.” 

Blinking in surprise at the sudden inserted memory, you started to giggle softly again as he pulled you in closer to his frame. “Oh god, at the freshmen year dance, right?” Ari hummed his agreement as you continued remembering, “Wow, I completely forgot about that. You remember that?” 

He was still caressing your face as his thumb drifted down to softly outline the outer edges of your lips. His gaze was still so intense and deep as he said, “I remember everything.” 

Your breath hitched at the sensual turn of his voice and at the touch of his thumb now caressing your lips lovingly. You started to blush as the memory persisted at you to be inclusive of what happened after your first kiss. Ari was able to sneak you into his house and into his room, where the both of you continued to make out, but it was also where you ultimately decided to have Ari be your first. He was a little older than you so even though you weren’t his first, you trusted him. It was that night that you realized that your feelings for Ari went beyond just friendship. 

You didn’t know it, but it was that moment where Ari realized his own feelings for you too. But that was when his dad was starting to tell him about taking over for the club, and he knew that he couldn’t drag you with him too. Then, he met Sharon (a very vivid mistake that he was still trying to detach from) and all he could think of when he was with her was relief that at least she wasn’t you. You didn’t deserve to have your light tarnished by what was to come. 

Still astonished by the flood of memories now crashing back at you, your heart fluttered at how dark Ari’s eyes have gotten since you gazed into them. His thumb now pressing firmly against your bottom lip, you let him graze his finger down against the seam of your plush lips. You gasped quietly as the tip of his thumb also brushed against your wet tongue. Ari released a deep groan at the sight, your responsiveness affecting him just as much. 

Your breathing started getting heavier as the tension between you intensified. Your eyes looked up at him again underneath your eyelashes and your eyes held such adoration and desire. It was that look that you didn’t even know that you were giving him that made Ari mutter a low fuck before grabbing your face between his two palms and pressed his lips against yours. 

Your hands grasped at the back of his jacket so desperately as you met his kiss just as fervently. Ari kissed you deeply as one of his hands left your face to stroke across your back and downwards to seek a needy grip around your waist. His hand squeezed your hip and you moaned into the kiss while you stood on your tiptoes to clutch onto his broad shoulders and tangle your fingers into his soft hair. 

It was Ari’s turn to let out a groan as you tugged gently on his hair. He lifted you off your feet to relieve the strain of your height difference and your legs draped around his waist with another surprised squeak. Still kissing you, he walked two steps towards the dark, side alley of your store building to press you against the brick wall. The both of you let out a resounding groan into each other’s mouths at the feel of Ari’s erection pressing against your warm center covered only by denim and tights. 

Ari gently licked the seam of your lips for permission and you let out another breathy moan at the feel of his soft tongue caressing yours. He slanted his lips and moved a strong hand to grip your jaw, almost squeezing your cheeks together, for a better angle. The feeling that washed over you was hot and almost overwhelming as you intrinsically felt how much strength and power the man held as he seamlessly took your weight, and as his hand and mouth took control of the pace of your brazen kiss. 

You felt his other hand softly stroke your outer thigh to push up towards the back of your skirt and graze over your sculpted ass. You released another mewl at the feel of him in such an intimate place and you felt Ari growl lowly into the kiss as his tongue almost lapped at yours. 

Hearing a car honk next to you broke you out of your little hedonistic bubble and you reluctantly broke away from your kiss. You let out a giggle as that only succeeded in Ari’s lips following yours and his hot, wet tongue tried to engage you in your makeout again. He smiled against your lips as you whimpered at the slow but intense move and his lips worked for a minute until you detached him from again. Ari groaned but respected the small distance placed between your faces. 

“I’m sorry, bunny. Was it too much?” Ari asked as he caught his breath. 

You giggled and his eyes softened at the sound. “No,” you kissed him softly one more time before leaning your forehead against his, “just, not here.”

Ari’s eyes gleaned darkly as his desire for you clamored wildly once more. Ari said your name so soft and faint, you could barely hear him. “I miss you too. Can I take you home with me, bun?”

You looked back at him with pleading, affectionate eyes and the only word that you could say was, “Please.” 

Ari nuzzled the tip of his straight nose against your button one and gave you a lasting, thorough kiss before letting you down and taking your hand in large one, striding towards his bike to take you home. 

Entering Ari’s bedroom was surreal. The last time that you were here, you both were so young and you haven’t had life happen to you yet. Now, 10 years later, with Ari looking at you with so much warmth and endearment, it had felt like no time has passed at all.

You released another soft whimper as Ari’s large hands caressed your breasts through your undershirt. You were laying in his bed in your camisole and panties, his naked, taut and tattooed torso pressing against yours. The hard press of his erection felt crushing on your increasingly dampening panties as he slotted himself between your legs. 

His tongue expertly brushed yours in another languid kiss. His mouth dragged away from your mouth to kiss the side of your jaw and drift down towards your neck. Ari sensually placed slow, wet kisses behind your ear and softly kissed down only to then lick a stripe up your neck. You gasp out a whine at how hot you felt, as you haven’t felt passion like this in such a long time. 

Ari gripped your neck firmly for his thumb to caress your jaw line until he could turn your face so that he could whisper in your ear. “I’ve wanted to do this again for so long, bunny. You have no idea.” 

You could only gasp out his name as you felt his warm breath tickling your skin. “I want you, Ari, please.” 

Ari groaned deeply and kissed the side of your ear softly, “You have me, baby. You always have.” He kissed his way back to your waiting mouth and you kissed him back eagerly as your tongues stroked each other with something akin to neediness.

The both of you have been wanting each other for so long, it was seemingly clear to the both of you that you were making up for lost time starting now.

Ari stopped kissing you only to reach for the bottom of your tank top and lift the shirt off over your head, exposing your lucious, round breasts. Your light and tan areolas, nipples pert and ready to be suckled had Ari lean down to lick softly and suck gently into his impatient mouth. 

Your nipples were connected straight to that pit of pleasure in your stomach as you let out a wanton moan. Ari kissed and licked between your breasts before drifting down the center of your soft stomach, placing wet kisses as he went. His eyes never left yours as his hands reached up to squeeze the wet tips of your nipples and eventually drift down the soft sides of your tummy. 

Feeling overstimulated by his touch, you held no restraint for the noises coming out of your mouth. You felt tears creeping in the corner of your eyes at how badly you wanted him to keep caressing you with his calloused, big hands and for his hot mouth to never leave your supple skin. 

Ari took in all of your moans and whimpers and he could feel his own restraint waning as he crept closer to your clad-covered pussy. Paired with your cute noises, seeing the thin fabric wetly sticking to your drenched slit made Ari inhale deeply. A picture of you in this moment was made complete when he took in the scent of your weeping cunt and Ari’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he released a low, guttural moan, “Fuuuck, bunny. I can’t wait anymore.”

You cried out in surprise as Ari’s tongue dragged up against your wet slit through your underwear. His mouth never left your cunt as he attempted to suck your juices through the fabric, groaning as he did it. Kissing up your mound, his fingers found the sides of your underwear hugging your hips only to drag it down harshly. The scent and first taste of you making him feral as he practically ripped your underwear down your legs. 

The fabric still resting in around one ankle, Ari couldn’t wait as he proceeded to stuff his face full of your dripping pussy. Crying out loudly at the sensation of Ari’s mouth ravishing you, your hips started writhing on the bed to get closer to his mouth as your hands fisted the sheets next to your head. 

You gasped out for breath as you felt Ari’s tongue lap at the wet on your lips before cutting through to lap at your pulsing clit. Letting out his own hums of satisfaction, Ari motioned his tongue in drawing slow and steady figure eights on your bundle of nerves as his lips closed over and sucked. 

The suction of his lips and the steady pressure of his wet tongue on your clit felt so giving as you started keening for more. Your hips elevated off the bed, you could feel the wet that was pooling underneath the sheets trying to cling to your wet cunt as Ari followed your motions to keep sucking at your pink pearl. Ari grunted as he felt you try to escape his zealous mouth and used his forearm to bring you back down to the bed. His shoulders leaned further on top of you to keep them from closing. He kept one hand around the soft pudge of your stomach for leverage as he continued burrowing himself into your soaked pussy. 

You fervently tried to arch up from Ari’s voracious tongue as it swirled against your clit only to catch at your opening. Ari smiled against your cunt and was openly groaning as he caught more of you in his mouth as his tongue swept up to thrust into you softly. You released a high pitched whimper as you feel Ari shake his head gently to get his tongue deeper inside you. Lapping for the wetness inside you, your thighs started to shake involuntarily. You felt the pleasure grow and expand to the tight knot that was held internally. 

“Ari, oh god, I’m so c-close, please, please. I need to cum, please.” You begged him with your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hands reached down as you felt him retreat from your pussy and you released an affronted whine as your hand went to the back of his quickly to push his mouth back onto your pulsing, needy cunt. 

Ari only laughed against your pussy and lapped faster, almost inhaling your sweet wetness as it covered the tip of his nose and all over his mouth and chin. The only sounds that could be heard were your short breathed whimpers, and the sounds of your squelching pussy juices being sucked by Ari’s ravenous mouth. 

Your hips were grinding against his tongue as you chased your release. Your breath stilted as you felt the flat of Ari’s eager tongue press down hard against your clit to create an enveloping, suction sensation that just felt so wet and warm, you jolted forward with a loud cry as your orgasm hit intensely. 

It felt never ending as Ari’s tongue never stopped its pressured motions on your clit and your eyes rolled back again as your second release unexpectedly crept up and squirted all over Ari’s waiting mouth. He groaned his pleasant surprise as he lapped up the wave of gush from your sobbing pussy earnestly, and only stopped lapping at you once you moved a hand to his forehead to push him away from your sated hole. 

Ari was breathing just as heavily as you as he gazed at your pulsing pussy in the aftermath of being thoroughly destroyed by his mouth. “Aw, bunny, look at you. You’re shakin’ for me.” 

He stroked his hand down your trembling body to gently brush his thumb against your swollen clit and you jumped from how sensitive you were. But Ari didn’t notice as his greedy only eyes saw another seep of cum drip down your hole. He couldn’t help but do it again as he saw more cum spurt out of you, and his tongue moved faster before he could help himself by sweeping in with his tongue on your opening to catch more of it in his mouth. 

You let out a choked sob at feeling his tongue on your cooling, wet flesh once more. Ari didn’t stop stroking his calloused thumb against your overstimulated clit as he lapped at your opening over and over again. Not having enough rest time in between your last two orgasms, your third was unrestrained as you went quiet, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, looking possessed as you squirt hard from the fast pressure of both his thumb and tongue stimulating you at the same time. 

Ari released his own resounding hum of gratification of feeling your wetness coat his tongue completely as he swallowed your cum down his throat. Your eyes were still rolled behind your head as you let out quiet grunts of relief, the knot at your stomach so unraveled and your body felt so pliant and loose. You only came to when you felt Ari’s wet, bearded mouth press kisses on your still trembling inner thighs and back towards your torso to gently suck on your nipples. 

Feeling so hazy and barely there, you moaned quietly as he swirled his warm tongue on your nipple until he was kissing back up towards your chapped lips. Ari’s tongue quickly fixed that though as he made sure to lick up into your mouth, coating your tongue in your own essence. 

You lazily stroked yours back against his in deep gratitude and immense sensuality. Ari let out a small, almost condescending laugh against your lips. “You okay, bun? Do you think I got your pretty pussy wet enough to take my cock?” 

“Yes,” you whispered desperately against his mouth that was still leaving kisses on your open lips. “I can take it, please.” 

Ari huffed out a disbelieving breath on your bottom lip at how good he has it right now. “God, you’re such a good girl, bunny. That’s right, I know you can take it. Think I need to prep you a little more okay, honey?” 

You let out another affronted whine and no as you attempted to reach for his cock between you. Your hand landed right on his large, hard appendage and you stroked him as he let out relieved moans at the feeling of your small hand on his covered cock. Reaching down, Ari pulled down his own boxer briefs until your hand could feel his soft flesh. 

Groaning loudly at the skin to skin contact, Ari let you squeeze his cock and stroke it with slow motions as he stroked two fingers against your wet lips and into your soft fleshy tongue. You moaned while sucking the digits in your mouth and stroked your tongue against them erotically. Ari groaned and bit his lip at watching your lips suck on fingers before pulling out of your mouth to reach down and stroke at your clit again. 

Your hips raised as your pussy felt so sensitive and yet the pressure felt so fucking good at the same time. Ari chuckled again as he thrust his middle finger inside your tight cunt. Your teary eyes rolled again with a pleasured frown at the intrusive feeling. He lets out a resounding moan at the feeling of your wet channel squeezing his finger, “Damn baby, your pussy is so fucking tight. I have to work you up some more, okay, bunny? I don’t wanna hurt you.” You whined your assent as he thrusted his finger slowly before attempting to add in another. 

You tensed up a bit when he tried and in a quick move, Ari leaned down to take your responsive clit in his mouth once more. Gasping out a moan at the sudden stimulation, that familiar pleasure swept back into your stomach. He felt your wet hole give more and more as you relaxed for him. He swirled his tongue against your clit and motioned his fingers inside your pussy in a “come hither” motion. Your eyes widened and you let out a chirp at the feeling of his fingers grazing your g-spot. 

Ari’s eyes found yours as he looked up at you, releasing your clit with a soft and wet pop, “Ah, there it is, bunny, I got you.” At his words, you could only let out another lewd moan that became increasingly louder as his mouth went back to lapping at your clit in quick motions.

Your already glazed over eyes and fucked out look had Ari react wildly again, “Fuck, baby, I can’t get enough, I need one more taste, just one more.” You were so out of it, getting lost in your pleasure that you didn’t know what he was really referring to until he placed one large hand on top of your soft, pillowy stomach and pressed down while his fingers seemed to press deeper and faster inside of you. 

Letting out a high pitched wail, your whole body locked stiffly as you felt it coming again. With a prolonged keen, you squirted your pleasure intensely as Ari continued to almost aggressively finger your g-spot while catching as much cum as he could in his mouth. Your whole body was twitching and squirming as you could only let out a few shaky breaths as aftershocks rolled through your used body. 

Ari was breathing heavily as he gave one last craved lick up the cut of your pussy before withdrawing his fingers slowly for him to sit up and hold his heavy cock in his cum-drenched hand. You peered up at Ari with glazed over eyes to see his mouth and chest covered in his own sweat and your cum as he grasped his wide, girthy cock and aligned it with your quivering opening. 

Not even allowing you to take a break, Ari knew that you would take him easier with your body completely relaxed and open like this. You were coherent enough to feel the tip of his hard cock nestle and rub against your tender clit until he reached down and plunged slowly into your tight core. 

The both of you released a combined sound of a relieved sigh and gratified moan at the feeling of your pussy taking him in so smoothly. Since he entered slowly, you could feel every inch of his thick, veiny cock press inside of you. 

Ari’s mouth was agape, his blue eyes stormy and narrowed as he stared at how his cock entered you, as he also indulged in the tightness and warmth of your sweet cunt. He withdrew from your pussy with a satisfied grunt, “See, bunny– fuuuuck, you’re taking me so well. I knew you could do it.” 

You smiled gently and whimpered at his praise, you felt so cared for while Ari continued to thrust into you deeply. Succumbing to the filthy pleasure of his cock, your eyes rolled back in your head again as you released whimpered, soft ‘ngh’ sounds from your parted lips with every thrust he gave you. Letting out his own guttural grunts from his throat, Ari’s head tipped back as he gripped onto your thighs harshly. Your pussy was stretched around his thick cock and your tight channel welcomed him in so well. 

“More, Ari, please– more,” you cried out as you started to meet his thrusts with your own. 

“Yeah, bunny? Want me to fuck you like this?” Ari gritted his teeth as he moved faster into your pussy. You keened a quiet but intense ‘yes’ as your moans became louder again as Ari thrusted harder into you, his own groans were unrestrained as he tried to maintain composure. 

With each thrust, Ari became fixated on watching your gripping pussy clench down onto his large cock with a mix of both of your cum dragging down his length and accumulating around the end of his dick. The sight was too overwhelming for Ari as he shut his eyes with furrowed brows in pleasure as he tried to last a little longer. 

His attempts weren’t working so he clenched his teeth with a deprived grunt before pulling out of you, only to turn you over onto your stomach with a sharp smack against your ass. You let out a surprised yelp only to moan your pleasure again as Ari thrust back inside of you. Your knees were pressed onto the bed as he contorted your figure so that your face laid flat against the damp sheets, and your ass high up in the air being jostled by his cock. 

One hand holding you down at the back of your neck, you felt Ari’s other hand stroke and press up and down your back languidly as his cock thrusted into you deceivingly hard and fast. The feeling of his hands on your damp skin just made you feel even more wrapped up in your pleasure. Your moans became high-pitched whimpers again as you felt Ari adjust his angle, and his next thrust landed right against your g-spot. You gasped as you choked on the whimpers leaving your throat and suddenly you couldn’t make any sounds at all. Your body went noticeably limp as Ari took you like a rag doll. Ari noticed this and how quiet you suddenly got and peered over while thrusting into you roughly.

After a moment of him fucking you furiously, he cooed and laughed, “Bunny, as much as I love hearing those cute sounds leave you, I really love it when you get quiet.” In his last words, he smacked your ass again and gripped your cheek tightly, the flesh caught in his fist turning the skin around it white, while he thrusted harder into your spot as he got you towards the finish line. 

Your jaw dropped at the sheer pleasure of his cock ambitiously driving inside of you– combined with the feeling of his tight grip of his large hands on your pliant ass, your body squirted out your cum again but this time on Ari’s unrelenting cock. You tightened up so delightfully on his member, Ari couldn’t help the hissing moan from his mouth when he felt your pussy almost eject him from how tight you were pushing out your cum. 

Not resisting, he quickly pulled out to see your squirt fully released. Breathing heavily at the sight, Ari tapped the mushroom head of his dick against your puffy clit eagerly and you let out a guttural moan as you squirt again at the stimulation. Ari could only let out another laughing moan as he did it once more with succeeding results. Little spurts of squirt seeped out of you and Ari tilted his head back, cursing at how sexy you were as he thrust deeply back into you. 

Needing to see it one more time, Ari knew exactly what to do as he grunted and grinded against that spot inside of you, quickly rubbing the tip of dick against the spongy flesh and quickly pulled out for more squirt to gush out of you. The feeling of your tight pussy’s lasting grip on his aching cock was what felt so addicting to him as he did it again. You mewled tiredly and Ari could tell that you were at your limit although your back arched into him for more.

“Must feel so good, huh, bunny?” Ari checked in with you once he gained some semblance of control over his cock-driven brain. You assented with a tired ‘mhm’ and moaned softly as Ari entered you slowly so as to not continue overstimulating your thoroughly used cunt. 

“Okay, baby, I think it's my turn now to feel good,” Ari says almost darkly. You give no response as you jut your ass out towards his pacing cock more as a sign for him to take you to his pleasure filled desire. But that’s okay, Ari didn’t need to hear you for this part. 

Groaning loudly and deeply, he thrusted back into your sopping wet pussy as he finally chased his pleasure. You were quietly letting out your own moans as you gyrated back against him and it didn’t take long for him to get there. Teetering on the edge for some time, it only took one final thrust into you when Ari released a loud, roaring moan that came from deep in his throat as he spurted his hot cum inside your pulsating channel. 

Ari shallowly thrusted his cum inside of you while catching his breath. He pulled back with a satisfied grunt to see a mix of your cum together and leaking out of you so prettily. 

You were barely there as you moaned your satisfaction at the feeling of Ari using his half-hard cock to thrust your combined spend back inside of you with one last deep thrust. Ari squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure as he plugged your release back in and slowly extricated himself from your used cunt. 

Feeling sleepy and floaty, you sinked back down onto your stomach, uncaring of the very wet sheets underneath you. As you floated between sleep and the present, you could feel a wet cloth pet at your opening and you groaned at the cooling feeling of Ari wiping you clean. 

Laying down next to you, Ari pulled your sated body into his warm embrace and kissed your sweaty forehead with so much love and care. 

As you hum in content, you were about to float away into a deep sleep when you heard Ari whisper one last note of affection, “I’ll never drift away from you again, Bunny. I love you.”

ok thots thoughts? ima just leave this here and ya'll could just tell me what u think 🙂‍↕️🫣

who do we think the guy in the Ferragamos is? we'll see him in part 2, dats fo sho.

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[munson-blurbs]

You know how eddie mentioned he’s got Playboys? maybe bookworm!reader does for Eddie what he did for her and figures out his favorite picture and recreates it so they can role play again?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), semi-public sex, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up folx), use of pet names, daddy kink

WC: 2.1k

--

Sitting cross-legged on Eddie’s bed, you should be doing some work for your courses. The Thanksgiving break means that you don’t have classes for the week, but your professors certainly didn’t hold back on their assignments. And you’d had every intention of starting on them, but when you’d dropped your pencil and went searching for it under the bed, you found something a lot more interesting than computing z-scores and making statistical inferences.

That’s how you find yourself flipping through your boyfriend’s stack of Playboy magazines, eyes widening with each page turn. Photo after photo of women scantily clad in lingerie—and sometimes nothing at all—stare back at you. 

At first, you don’t notice a pattern among the pictures that Eddie has dog-eared; blondes, brunettes, redheads, curvy, thin, tall, short—they’re all there. No, the models couldn’t be any more different, but they do have something in common. It was almost cliché: your mechanic boyfriend jerking off to women sexily posed next to a car. Of course. 

You take note of one particularly well-used page, slightly warped and wavy, stuck to the page in front of it. The Playboy Bunny in the photo is wearing the tiniest denim shorts you’ve ever seen. Her bra barely contains her breasts, and she’s looking into the camera like she’s been caught doing something bad. Her cherry-red lips match the convertible she’s straddling. 

So this is what Eddie’s into, you think. The two of you have been exploring different kinks ever since your library escapades, but you hadn’t thought to surprise him at work. 

When he gets home an hour later, covered in motor oil with his long curly hair pulled back into a bun at the nap of his neck, you’re trying to figure out how you can pull off your plan. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs, bringing his hands to your cheeks and kissing you tenderly. “Wayne let you in?”

“Mhm,” you nod, holding up your notebook. “Figured I could get some work done before our movie night.”

Eddie grins. “My genius bookworm girlfriend,” he teases, smacking another kiss on your lips. “C’mon, you deserve a break. You can pick the movie tonight. Maybe I’ll even throw in a foot massage.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Either you want sex or you’re feeling guilty about something. Or both,” you add wryly, making him laugh. 

“Y’got me,” he mumbles, taking your hands in his and lacing your fingers together. “Tim asked me to close tomorrow, somethin’ about wanting to get a headstart on the Thanksgiving traffic, and I felt weird saying no…being the new guy and all…” He looks up at you sheepishly. “Wanted to spend as much time with you as I can before you go back to school.”

Your heart melts at his admission. “Eds, don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, standing up and looping your arms around his neck. “Gotta make money so we can get our own place next year, yeah?”

That seems to relieve him of any remorse, and he peppers kisses all over your face. But you have an ulterior motive; if he’s closing by himself tomorrow, that’ll give you an opportunity to surprise him.

You spend the next afternoon combing through your closet, tossing aside the fuzzy sweaters that lay on top. Finally, you settle on a cropped white shirt that barely covers your sheer lace bra. Your thong matches your bra, one of the few matching sets you have. The pièce de résistance are your denim cutoffs, shoved to the back of your drawer during the colder months. They’re not as short as the model’s–you don’t own anything like that–but they’re close enough. You slide on your favorite black kitten heels, swipe on some red lipstick, and check yourself out in the mirror; not too bad, if you say so yourself. Hopefully Eddie feels the same way.

At 5:30, you’re throwing on your longest coat and rushing out to your car. The shop closed at five o’clock, and you’ll get there around six, just to ensure that everyone else has left. Are you actually doing this? Are you seriously walking into your boyfriend’s place of work, half-naked, with the intention of re-creating a photo from a nudie mag? What if he laughs, or thinks you look silly? Was this all a mistake?

You swallow your fears as you approach the garage, heels click-clacking along the pavement. You immediately spot Eddie; rather, you spot his legs, since the rest of him is under a black Cadillac. Shedding the coat as inconspicuous as you can, you make your way over to where he’s meticulously working. 

“Hey, handsome,” you nudge his foot with your exposed toe. “Got some time for your favorite customer?”

“Baby?” Eddie’s confused voice rings out from under the car. “Did I forget my dinner at home?”

You giggle. “No, but I did bring something I know you’ll want to devour.” You press one palm against the hood of the car. “Care to take a look?”

Intrigued, Eddie slides out. The wrench in his hand drops to the ground with a clang as he takes in the sight before him. “Ho…ly…shit,” he breathes. “You look…you’re…holy shit.” His brain practically short-circuits as he drinks you in, a grin spreading across his face. “Can I touch you?”

“Please.” No sooner does the word leave your lips is he running his calloused hands along your bare torso, leaving black grease stains in his trail. You press up against him, feeling his hard length straining against his coveralls. “Already so worked up?” you lightly tease, grazing his clothed cock with your pointer finger. 

He nods, tugging you closer so he can kiss your neck. “Got my hot girlfriend showing up at my job, dressed like—”

“Your favorite Playboy Bunny?” you interrupt, watching his cheeks flush pink. “Relax, Eds. You found out my kinks from Fast Ride; it’s only fair that I find out yours from your, um, reading material.” One of his curls has come loose from the hair tie, and you wrap it around your finger. “Now, what did you always dream about doing to her?”

“Not her,” he shakes his head, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You. Always pictured you.” He looks around for a remote to close the garage door. “Get on the hood,” he murmurs, grabbing a rag and wiping the grease off of his hands. His eyes never leave you as you sit on top of the car, feet resting on the front bumper. He leans over you, resting his hands on either side of your body. He kisses you hungrily, fingers flying over you like he can’t determine where to touch first. “Fuck, I gotta taste you,” he mumbles into your lips, fumbling with the button on your shorts. “Bet you taste so damn good. My pretty girl, so sweet f’me.” He brings your legs to his shoulders, taking in the most beautiful view he’s ever seen.

Eddie crouches between your thighs, pressing kisses against your lace-covered cunt. “You’re dripping wet, baby,” he moans. “Bet you don’t even need me to touch you.”

“No, I do. I n-need you,” you whimper. You hear him groan, growing even harder as you beg for him. The cool air hits your bare sex as he tears off your panties, diving in to eat you out. You feel his tongue lick a stripe up your folds, and you squirm at the sensation.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, not moving from his position, “be a good girl an’ stay right there.”

“What if I wanna be bad?” you coo, and you hear him groan as his fingertips dig harder into the plush of your thighs. “Good girls don’t walk around wearing next to nothing at their boyfriend’s job; not when anyone could walk in and see them.”

Eddie’s only response is to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking it harshly. One thick finger makes small circles around your weeping hole before he pushes it in. He curls it slightly, grazing your sweet spot with each little thrust. A mix of his spit and your slick drips down the curve of your ass, and he laps it up like he just can’t get enough.

“Daddy, please,” you cry out, using his favorite nickname as you lace your fingers through his hair, “‘m gonna come. Don’t stop.” He hums his approval, sending that final buzzing sensation through your core and bringing you to your orgasm. “Fuck, I’m coming. Yes, yes, fuck yes!” 

Eddie grins as your legs tremble around his head, and he knows he’s done something very right. He gently lowers them back down and helps you sit up, shucking off his coveralls and his boxers in one go. His cock springs to attention, and you start salivating at the way his pre-cum pearls at the tip. You guide him to the passenger side door and press him up against it, kissing down his neck and wrapping a hand around his girth. “Y’like that, Daddy?” you coo, giggling as Eddie lets out a pathetic uh-huh.

You get down on your knees, ignoring the cold asphalt underneath you. One hand cupping his balls and the other pumping the base of his shaft, you bring your lips to his tip and swirl your tongue around the circumference. You work your way down to the thatch of curls, trying to match the rhythm he’s setting as he moves his hips into it. 

“Look up at me, sweetheart,” Eddie croons. “Want to see those beautiful eyes while I fuck your face, yeah?”

You do as you’re told, though your vision is hazy as his thrusts test your gag reflex. His fists clench and you feel him twitch inside your mouth, and he reluctantly pulls back. Your lips pop as the tip passes them, and you pout. “Not good enough for you, Daddy?”

Eddie shakes his head and gives a terse chuckle. “Too good, princess,” he grunts. “Need to be inside that tight little pussy before I blow my load.” He reaches down to help you up, kissing you deeply. You can taste yourselves on the other’s lips, and it takes all of your willpower to break away.

“Bend over,” Eddie orders, and you lean your elbows on the hood of the car. He positions himself behind you, smacking your ass with his hard cock before dragging it through your slick folds. “Oh, baby,” he sighs, pushing himself into you, “y’always take me so good. My sexy little vixen.”

You whine as he grabs onto your hips, starting off slow and quickly picking up his pace. He nearly pulls all the way out before slamming back in, making you scream out his name. “Thas’ right, tell everyone who’s fucking you like this.” You feel one hand leave your waist, and you know exactly what’s about to happen.

“Y’know,” Eddie begins. He brings his palm to the fat of your ass and spanks it, “when we first met, I thought you were this goody two-shoes.” Another smack to your ass as he fucks you. “And then I found that book in your locker, and we–smack–fucked in the library. Knew you were dirty then, but goddamn.” He breathes out, trying to adjust his grip. “You’re so…fucking…perfect…” He rolls his hips, eyes rolling back with pleasure.

“Faster, Daddy; ‘m so close,” you mewl, and he speeds up. He’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. His tip hits that blissful spongy part, and you unravel with crying chants of his name.  

“Fuck, I can’t hold back any longer.” Eddie pulls out at the last possible moment, spilling onto your ass with a breathy groan. He brings his free hand to the hood of the car, and you look up to see him grinning widely. “That was…wow. If I didn’t already know you were my dream girl…” He keeps staring at you, as though he can’t believe you’re real.

“Um, babe?” you start, “could you clean me up?”

“Wha–oh, yeah, sorry. Just…fuck, you’re so fuckin’ hot.” He scrounges around the garage for a clean rag, snapping one up and wiping his cum off of you. “This is much better than coming on a magazine,” he teases, and you swat at him playfully before pulling on just your shorts, since your panties were destroyed by Eddie’s impatience.

You wrap your arms around his lithe waist once he’s back in his coveralls. “So, that was your favorite magazine. Am I going to find any favorite videos hiding under your bed next?” You giggle as he tickles you and kisses your neck.

“Nah,” he says, laughing. “But, y’know…we could make one.”

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 11/5/2024

i am going to do my absolute fucking best to stay off the internet today. also the next time i write one of these i will be goddamn thirty. yeesh.

listening

it took three hours to make a normally brisk 50-minute trip back from the airport on sunday bc there were simply so many accidents. my phone wasn't charging, i was kind of locked into the one way i actually knew how to get home, it was pouring, and the only radio station that was reliably coming through was the local dad rock station.

i don't think i've ever actually heard this song all the way through before! i have of course heard the chorus in eight billion advertisements and trailers etc, but i tuned in right at the lyrics

I was a willow last night in my dream I bent down over a clear running stream Sang you the song that I heard up above And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love

big ren faire lady of shallott vibes.

-

reading

witch hat atelier, the first twelve volumes that are out in english anyway. let's yoink the setup from the fan wiki.

Coco, a girl living in a small village, had been dreaming of becoming a magician since little. But people who don't know how to use magic since birth are unable to become magicians, or witness the moment magic occurs. But one day, Coco accidentally saw Qifrey, a magician that was visiting the village casting a spell. Ecstatic to finally know how magic works, she tries it immediately and transforms her mother into a stone statue. With the help of Qifrey and his disciples, Coco will embark in a magical journey to save her mother.

this gets a lot of ghibli comparisons, and i get it-- there's a lot of concern about healing scars from a near-cataclysmic magical war, lots of contraptions, bucolic countryside, loving shots of food, etc. i think there is a focus on academia and cohort-building, and how networking is a profession all to itself, that we do not generally see in ghibli films. i think the comp pull should go beyond the aesthetics, as well, but ghibli is still a good comp-- the world of witch hat atelier is dangerous and can hurt or kill you, but it treats the reader's heart with the same care a ghibli movie will. things may not be happily ever after or go perfectly at all times, but there are no twists for the sake of twists, and it doesn't sneer or make fun of you for caring about a character. there are no whedonesque "well THAT happened!" moments. these characters are going to learn and grow and you will learn and grow along with them goddamnit. it is queer but incidentally queer. the folx side of the fags-folx spectrum will feel very welcome here but this is not a tenderqueer kind of gay book. characters are incidentally gay because of course they are, that's just how the world works, look at all the fullness of human expression you can encounter in your one short life, why NOT be gay

i did not expect this series to kickstart a fresh wave of grief for my own academic experience. coco leans on her cohort so much and they truly do work together to solve problems and come up with good solutions and i wish i had had that kind of astronomy experience. it's kind of cold comfort that i don't know and have never heard of a woman having a good astronomy experience.

witch hat atelier: very fun to sink into the details on a page (Kamome Shirahama knows how functional but pretty clothes work), endlessly charming veneer on a very taut game of political ethics happening in the grownups' background

-

watching

happy noirvember!!!

Another Man's Poison (1952, dir. Rapper) courtesy of Kanopy's little revolving carousel of new noir films.

An English mystery writer (Bette Davis) kills her husband, then tries to kill a man (Gary Merrill) posing as her husband.

In his review in New Statesman and Nation, Frank Hauser wrote "No one has ever accused Bette Davis of failing to rise to a good script; what this film shows is how far she can go to meet a bad one."

a plot that could only happen in a country where appearances are everything. i must agree with mr hauser and most of the critics of the time who said Huh???? to the script and basic premise. AND the ending is a little too pat. a breakneck ninety minutes filmed in three months where its stage play bones show. however i really like Bette Davis and it's so much fun to watch Bette Davis pace around an English manor house like a caged tiger.

-

playing

fallow week, i am having a consistent problem with the now five year old gaming rig overheating and once i solve that issue i am very excited to play Red Dead Redemption the original (thank you again @pasta-pardner !)

-

making

deep cleaned my entire house. drove three hundred miles this weekend to pick up my sister and her friend from the airport, go to the ren faire, come back from the ren faire, and take them back to the airport. houston delivered to me some of the worst fucking driving experiences i have ever had here. really upsetting torrential downpour for nearly an hour on a road with no shoulder to speak of.

the actual ren faire was fun! i did not realize how vital a chair or bench with a fucking back was to my rest and recovery. it was nice to go with fellow adults and not help wrangle several small children, as fun as a kid-friendly experience can be. got my overpriced gyro for the year. got my bootleg anime merch for the year. wish it hadn't rained but i feel very smug for packing enough umbrellas and ponchos.

[lesbian-disaster-academic]

Since there's been some discussion of this on a prior post I made, let's address

Neurodivergent Skill-Regression: What is it & Why Does it Happen?

Content Warning! This post will make brief mention of various topics, including: childhood abuse (not explicit), depression, suicidal ideation, car accidents, the COVID-19 pandemic, and throwing up.

Okay, let's begin with a quick preface. I'm writing from the Global North, in a capitalist economy, and in a country founded on (ongoing!) systems of colonialism. Therefore, that's how I'll be situating this discussion (just because it's what I know best). Neurodivergence and Capitalist Exploitation Under capitalism, productivity and extraction in the name of profit become of the utmost importance. Extraction can take place in the form of extracting physical resources (think fracking on Turtle Island), extracting labour, etc. Ultimately, neurodivergence itself is not an ill-formed or "bad" mind. It is only conceptualized and coded as such because capitalism and various other interlocking systems of oppression are actively hostile to minds that, in some way, subvert capitalist and colonial ideals. (however, this is not to negate, invalidate, or trivialize the fact that adhd/asd/ocd/bpd/etc. are disabilities. by their very nature, they impede and disrupt functioning. what is considered "functional", however, is determined by this capitalist/colonialist state and the things it values. this is all simply to say that we would be able to more easily exist and thrive within a society that doesn't reward self-destruction in the name of accumulating capital for the upper class) Of course, living in a system that is not built for you is going to be exhausting—it takes a toll on you, both physically and mentally. This can be further compounded if you are marginalized in other ways; for instance, if you're a person of colour, working class, a woman, 2SLGBTQ+, an immigrant, or a combination of these.

Masking and Burnout Many neurodivergent folx are forced into positions in which they have to mask. For the sake of clarity, "masking", in this case, involves concealing one's neurodivergent traits. For me, that might look like suppressing compulsions, consciously regulating my facial expressions, working longer and harder to accomplish tasks because I can't focus, or scripting conversations before I have them. These manifestations are often invisible to outsiders, but they take a heavy toll on us, and can often result in neurodivergent burnout. This is where the skill-regression comes in. An Example... Let me give you a personal example of what neurodivergent skill-regression can look like! Prior to the pandemic, I was a highly productive person. I was designated "gifted" (whatever that means) and was top of my class in every single class. I was participating in (and running) multiple clubs, working a steady job, volunteering within the community, and learning new instruments and languages. I was a skilled pianist and painter, and also very athletic. From the outside looking in, I appeared successful: I had a massive scholarship lined up at the most prestigious university in the country. I was generally well-liked. I was creative and skilled in both the humanities and STEM (mostly humanities lol), etcetera etcetera. But I was in no way okay. I was incredibly depressed and suicidal. I had multiple undiagnosed anxiety disorders and neurodivergencies. I was experiencing relentless abuse at home. I was throwing up every few days out of pure fear and stress. I was constantly sick, crying (in secret, and then later too numb to cry), overwhelmed, exhausted, and apathetic. And yet I refused to stop pushing my body and mind to their limit because I had this ingrained belief surrounding my productivity—if I slowed down, would I be worth anything? At the time, to my mind, the answer was a staunch no (even though I didn't apply this thinking to anyone but myself lol). So I repressed everything. I pushed it all to the side and kept moving forward. To put it in perspective, I got hit by a truck at one point, but I was so scared of being late to a thing and disappointing my parents that I just apologized and kept going. This kind of behaviour went on for close to a decade. And then the pandemic hit. And I was forced to stop. I was made to (by virtue of my relative privilege) take a moment to sit down, look around, and actually feel things. And it hit me like a ton of bricks: All the weight of the anger and fear and everything that I had been repressing for the sake of survival came RUSHING in. Now? You want to know what I'm like now? I am very burnt out and incredibly unproductive. I have the attention span of a gnat. Where I used to be able push through exhaustion or else tamp it down with consistently high levels of adrenaline, I now almost ALWAYS feel tired, to the point where I have to lay down. I used to be able to toss together an essay in the span of a couple hours. And, yes, while I can still put an essay together quickly, it’s not going to necessarily be good. Likewise, where I used to be able to mask my neurodivergent traits, I'm now hyperaware of how exhausting it all is, which makes it more difficult to appear neurotypical in public.

The thing is, when you have something like adhd as well as an anxiety disorder, the anxiety can pretty effectively mask the adhd. But once I started medication and more intense therapy, I got a hold on my anxiety and alllll of my coping mechanisms fell away. I no longer had that constant, vibrating fear to force me to maintain attention, and push myself to the breaking point.

It’s like not aging for 80 years and then suddenly having decades collapse into you in the span of moments. So Where Does This Leave Us? Okay, that was a loooong tangent, sorry. Returning to the original point. As the infinitely cool and talented @revenantscholar mentioned in a previous post of mine, when you exist in an unsafe environment (or one which is generally not built with you in mind), it's difficult to hold onto the skills you once had. Your body goes into survival mode and prioritizes keeping you alive. Once you have returned to a space where you can unmask and be physically/emotionally/mentally SAFE, you have the capacity to relearn some of those skills. Not all of them, necessarily, and not all at once. But these things do return—and even if they don't (listen to me, this is important), that doesn't make you stupid/bad/worthless. You are living in a world that is not built for people like you and I, and it sucks, and it's painful and scary, and we will continue to fight for a better future. In the meantime, it's important to remember that you are worthy of care, compassion, empathy, and support regardless of what you can contribute/do. You are incredibly important and I'm so glad you're here. (Thank you for listening. I'm drawing on my human rights knowledge from my degree, and also my own personal experience. However, feel free to correct me or ask any questions you might have! I'm also happy to provide resources/citations if needed. Now go drink water and rest if you need to! Ily!)

[thesongistheriver]

So a while back, I got an idea, or there was a prompt, or *something* where I was like, "I'm gonna write a fic where Mithian and Elena and Arthur all kind of grow up together, you know, while their king dads are hanging out doing King Things" and I thought it was going to be this cute friendship ™ thing and now it's, like, they're going to help him figure himself and Merlin out and maybe accept magic and look, folx, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore, here have a snippet.

He walked over to them and nodded his head. “Princess Elena, Princess Mithian.” 

They hurried to stifle their giggles and turned. Mithian gave a polite little curtsey, while Elena reached out to slap his arm before apparently remembering herself and turning it into an awkward shimmy. 

Arthur couldn’t fight a grin this time. “Erm, I thought perhaps you might like to see the gardens? It’s a lovely day …” He trailed off when both of their faces fell slightly. “Or, ah. We could visit the shops in the Lower Town?” What the hell do girls like to do? He was going to murder Morgana for leaving him high and dry like this.

Mithian lowered her eyes. “Camelot is quite beautiful. I had rather hoped we might go for a ride in the countryside.”

“I love riding!” Elena crowed. “Just about the only thing I do gracefully,” she added with a roll of her eyes, bumping Mithian with her shoulder.

A wave of relief washed over Arthur. “Fabulous!” he exclaimed, eyes brightening, and added proudly. “You can meet Hengroen. He was a gift for the anniversary of my birth. Just a yearling now, but he’s going to be my destrier when he’s grown and I’m a knight.” 

“Oh, can I ride him?” Eyes wide, Elena clasped her hands together.

“Petal,” Grunhilda admonished, but Elena just waved dismissively.

“You know Father won’t mind me going riding with the prince,” she said, pursing her lips. “You said you had things to do anyway.” Sighing, the older woman nodded and hurried off.

Both girls’ eyes shone with excitement. “Roddy will be so envious,” Mithian said brightly, waving at her brother over her shoulder as he attempted to hide a yawn. “He’d much rather be out with us than listening to the old men talking about treaties and borders.”

Gesturing for them to follow, Arthur led the way out of the council chambers. “At least he gets to compete in the tournament,” he said, hands in the pockets of his breeches. “Wish I could.”

“One day you will,” Elena replied. “And we’ll have to be all boring and wear fancy gowns and sit in the stands.”

Shaking her head so that her dark hair swung over shoulders, Mithian announced, “Not I. I’ll schedule a hunt for myself instead.”

“You hunt?” Arthur asked, incredulous. “Morgana rides, but I can’t envision her with a crossbow to save my life.”

“Arthur, I love hunting,” Mithian said with a smile. 

Elena shrugged. “I’m a terrible shot, but give me a horse and I can rival the wind. Father says my mother was an excellent horsewoman. Suppose I get it from her.”

They chattered eagerly all the way to the stables, and Arthur thought for the first time that perhaps this week might not be all bad.

[vaspider]

Okay, so I hope I don't come off as really confrontational and I'm sorry if it does. I've started to notice an increasing number of posts on your blog that seem to be critical of things trans women do on an intra-community level. I wasn't going to say anything before, but someone you reblogged mentioned that they were starting to keep an archive of what they called "Trans radfem behavior" and that concerned me a bit.

I have -- for years -- been extremely critical of cop behavior within the community or divisive behavior within the community. I have been critical of fellow lesbians when they have gone after aces and bi people. I have been critical of fellow transmascs when they say shitty things. My most quoted, most reblogged, most 'taken and posted on other sites', most linked on Reddit (fucking apparently) post is one about divisiveness and respectability politics within the community, how those things fail us and set us up to be split up and devoured by the cishets, and a call for radical inclusiveness within the community as the only way forward.

This isn't new. I've always been like this.

I have also always been critical of the idea that identity is a shield for shitty behavior. Whether that's disabled people acting like they can't be ableist, queer people acting like they can't say homophobic shit, Jews who think they can't act in an antisemitic way, or trans people acting transphobic or saying transphobic things, this is not a new concept for me, nor one I'll move away from. It is an unfortunate thing that disabled ableists and trans radfems exist, but they do, and I've gotten tired of the idea that we have to pretend someone isn't saying shitty things because of their identity.

For a long time, one of the topics I shied away from was discussing the divisions within the trans community specifically, because -- quite frankly -- I've seen the dogpiling that tends to happen to transmascs when we criticize the shitty, bioessentialist, 'man bad woman good' behaviors of a very small but very vocal section of the online transfem community.

But shying away from talking about that is just fucking cowardice, and I've never been able to stand for cowardice within myself. So yeah, you're definitely seeing more criticism of shitty intracommunity behavior within the trans community with me. I have never been one to criticize shitty behavior restricted to identity, however, and I have surely been critical of shit behavior regardless of whether or not the person saying it is a trans man, a trans woman, or any other group of people.

You will continue to see me criticize shitty behavior, because I am absolutely fed up with the way that this community treats itself, and you will see me talk about the things that happen as they happen. Right now, there's an awful lot of shitty behavior aimed at trans men and transmascs on this site, including some from trans women. It's absolutely unconscionable to talk about raping people, or to use words like "theyfab," "cuntboy," and "zippertits" to refer to transmascs. That's what's happening, so yep, you're gonna see that on my Tumblr.

The solution here is not to be concerned about me talking about it, but to be concerned about the people doing that. Talking about shit behavior isn't the problem. The shit behavior is the problem, and it's important to both talk about the shit behavior so it fucking stops, and to talk about the shit behavior very clearly as the actions of the people who took them and not the actions of a community. It sucks that there are transfems and trans women who think it's okay to treat transmascs and trans men the way that some transmascs on here are being treated right now. Those transfem folx should know better than to pull that shit, because they know what it's like to be the target of that kind of behavior.

That said, I am absolutely not responsible for what other people say or do. I am not aware of having reblogged or endorsed the idea of starting an archive of 'trans radfem shit,' so I'm very confused as to why exactly you're talking to me about it as if I said it or endorsed it or as if it has anything to do with me, or why it would be bad to talk about the way in which trans people of any gender can fall prey to radfem manipulation. Maybe the person talking about it specified they were tracking trans women, but even the ask you sent me says 'trans radfem behavior,' so I'm assuming it would be trans people of any gender, right? If not, why are you linking those ideas together?

Like, I didn't say it, I didn't endorse it, I'm not responsible for it, but what exactly would be wrong with talking about how radfem mindsets infect our community in the first place? The manner in which too many trans people find it easy to fall into the bioessentialist thinking of radfems is a community problem.

tl;dr: I criticize everybody when they act like fools, and I'm not responsible for some random thing that 'somebody I reblogged' said.

[bucknastysbabe]

SHIT! You won't believe what came to my mind! I really want you to write aemond/reader or aegon/reader (whatever you like, who do you like better) BUT with dynamics like in the cartoon the swan princess! you know, something based on that song… I think it's called "this is my idea". where the reader is a lady who comes to the red castle every summer as a child, and all the children have a little rivalry, and then it turns out that she is engaged to one of the princes …. well, just listen to this song and I think you will understand what I mean, I'm bad at formulating thoughts, sorry I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG but it's literally tearing me apart

AH I WATCHED THE VIDEO AND ITS SO CUTE. So I did this with more politics, adventurous targvelaryon babies and of course shit head aegon. No YOU tore me apart anon. Bottom of me heart hope you enjoyed it, pebble throwing and all. Thanks for the request, keep ‘em coming folx

Proposals? Not my idea.

Tags: Childish ass rivalry, Aegon is actually a sad baby, everyone else is tired of the idiot, Celtigars rule #TEAMBLACKSTANNIES, enemies to lovers, time skips galore, inspired by the swan Princess

Viserys sat with an annoyed look on his face. Rhaenyra to his right, Alicent on the left The tension was aggravating his already throbbing head. His lady wife and Otto had called the meeting, disturbing the king from his building.

Criston Cole stood by the door, shooting a blank look to the regent. Beesbury, Wylde, Strong, Lannister, and Grand Maester Mellos sat around the table. With a sigh Viserys put his golden orb into the slot, opening the meeting. He inquired impatiently, “And what is this meeting so very important to be called for?”

Alicent’s lips opened but Otto butted in, “The concern of Prince Aegon’s betrothal.”

Viserys guffawed, “Is he not to be wed to Helaena?”

Silence amplified by wide eyes ensued. Rhaenyra stifled laughter behind her hand. Alicent softly began, “My king. Aegon has…refused the betrothal. He- our son claims he will not fulfill his duty.” Viserys groaned aloud, his body was starting to ache at the stiff chair.

Otto piped in, “We have tried everything but he refuses to bed her if they are to be in union. We called this meeting to consider alternate options.”

Tyland Lannister shared a look with Lord Wylde. Rhaenyra snarked, “Marry him to a Lyseni whore then. Valyrian blood for the line and whores are all my half-brother goes for anyway.” Harrold harrumphed in disagreement. Otto barred his daughters arm when Alicent snapped, “Do not speak of my son that way! Ask your dear Daemon about pillow houses!”

Rhaenyra grinned like a cat, turning icy eyes onto her father. Tyland Lannister proposed, “Why not look at the Celtigars? They are a house of Old Valyria and quite wealthy. Lord Bartimos has a lovely grand daughter of twelve-and-ten from what I have heard.”

Multitudes of voices spoke up, questioning about the great houses or a union with Dorne.

Viserys, quite done with it all, slammed his palm on the table. He declared, “Send a raven to Lord Bartimos to bring the girl. Helaena will be betrothed to Aemond, he seems to be fond of the child. My word is final.”

Otto raised a brow, choosing to remain silent. Alicent’s face was wrought with concern. She hoped this young she-crab retained nothing of her families sour disposition.

A fortnight later

Your grandfather had been lecturing you on the rules and etiquette of court in the Red Keep. You stared blankly as Bartimos waved his wrinkled hands around, chiding you to remember your upbringing and lessons.

He pinched your chin softly, boring into your eyes. Lord Celtigar gruffed, “If you can survive the Sea Lord of Braavos then take that and guard yourself and intentions by the thousands.” You replied, “They are a nest of Dragons, I can get that much.”

He huffed a laugh and released you, eyeing the Red Keep beckoning the family across the Blackwater Bay. Bartimos braced himself on the side of the ship, breathing in the air. He grumbled, “Your potential betrothed is a bit of a…grasping chap.” You scoffed and bit out, “How so grandfather?”

“Drinks and whores, any serving girl in sight they tell me.”

Your shoulders fell. Still being a princess would be much more palatable than old Lord Crabb. His second lady wife died in the birthing bed and you were offered on a silver platter until the Hand’s raven came in. You didn’t care if the dragon prince was a fool, you’d find other things to do. Squeezing out heirs was the bad part. You shuddered and thought on something else.

Two Kingsguard bearing the same face waited on the docks with gorgeous geldings in tow. One announced, “Lord Celtigar, and the young lady. Welcome to King’s Landing.” You gave the customary bow, feeling your grandfathers steely eyes upon you. You had decided that the city was disgusting. Houses upon ramshackle houses layered upon another, beggars and folks covered in filth barking their wares. The Red Keep loomed over the city like a crimson giant from tales of old.

Grandfather chatted to the two knights and you pulled your hood up higher. The leers of the small folk made you uneasy. Claw Isle was a desolate rock but your childhood was joyfully spent seafaring and finding critters along the broken coast with your cousins and siblings.

You gasped at the sheer height of Maegor’s monstrosity, built to show who truly ran the Seven Kingdoms. Your grandfather spoke of the twisted and fearsome Iron Throne and the maze that ran underneath the keep, holding secrets one wouldn’t dare to unearth.

The Hand himself, Otto Hightower stood at the top of the steps with the queen smiling rather forcefully next to him. Otto beckoned your small party forward. Bartimos and the imposing man hugged and exchanged pleasantries. The green queen pulled you aside, murmuring, “Come here dearest, let me take a look at you.”

You tried not to squawk as the lady prodded and pinched your face, running a gentle hand down your delicate braids. Once done she pulled you into a warm hug. She remarked, “You are beautiful. This will do quite nicely. The Maiden smiles upon thee.” Your supple boots were beginning to grow damp with sweat.

You bowed and thanked Queen Alicent graciously, offering your honor to be in her presence. Otto turned to you before flicking his eyes to Alicent, the slender woman nodding with a soft tilt of her lips. The hand clasped his hands together and spoke, “Very well. Let us get you two in some sumptuous accommodations. Dinner will occur tonight for further discussion and merriment.” You had a feeling it was going to be one of those Braavosi menageries but bowed and followed along, purely in awe of the Keep.

Handmaidens flocked to your quarters to gussy you up for dinner. While they corseted and braided your hair you took in the room. This was much different than Claw Isle. Your families keep was by no means honest but looked like a shanty compared to the grand suite. Your home was made of tough timber supported by stones. Crabs too…lots of crabs.

The bed looked like a cloud, and wine plus other treats adorned the flat surfaces. One of the maidens, Meera, whispered, “Did you know this is where Princess Deria stayed when she delivered Dorne’s terms to the conqueror?” You turned and snarked, “I think I’m a bit less important than that.”

Another one piped in, “No, no, you’re very important. The whispers are that they are considering a betrothal for the young Prince!” Stagnant silence fit the room as you warbled, “My lord grandfather has made it very clear about that. May I have some wine?”

A cup of wine later you felt more loose. It didn’t taste pleasant but considering how others reacted it would be a help. Your father overcomsumed his drink but Bartimos never indulged in a drop. You’d watch yourself tonight.

The ladies tittered over your beauty, guiding you towards a looking glass. You did look comely. The cinching of your waist and the tight bodice gave you the appearance of curves. Celtigars were lanky in nature and you hoped some of your mother’s Rosby fertile traits would come in time.

You smiled and thanked the ladies, promising them a gift before you departed. A polite knock at the door swerved your head, and one of the servants opened the heavy wood. A white knight and Lord Celtigar stood waiting. Your grandfather was nervous, pulling at the hem of his cloak.

“Ser Willis Fell, my grand daughter,” he gestured to you, “Sweetling, your sworn sword for the time being.” You bowed and warmly replied. The Fell man— a strapping lad of dark gray eyes and dusty hair nodded politely. With a swish of his white cloak, the Celtigars were escorted to the Targaryen’s private dinner chambers.

Bartimos grabbed your sleeve, shifting the brocade of white and red beading. He stared expectantly. You meekly replied, “I will be on my most honorable behavior grandfather.” In a strange moment he pulled you into a hug and whispered, “I know you will. Of my offspring, you have a keen eye and intuition they do not possess.”

Face heated with affection, you were introduced to the family. Your heart sank into your bowels as you took in the scene. Queen Alicent shot up and strode to your side. Daemon snorted into his wine, getting a burning look from the King himself. Alicent beamed at you, cheerily chatting, “You look like a dream young lady. Come, come, we’ll sit you next to the younger ones.” You kept your face cool and curtsied before the royals as the queen led you to a spot next to Princess Helaena.

She squeezed your shoulders and returned to the other side of the table. Your grandfather had joined over near King Viserys and the Hand. The seat was empty next to you. You introduced yourself quietly, picking at your dress. One of Daemon’s girls, Rhaena, spoke, “It is wonderful to meet you, a fellow Valyrian.” Rhaenyra’s eldest boy chimed in, “Not very much of us around here!”

You laughed and joked, “We’re not as beautiful as your houses, but yes we can trace our ancestry back. We wanted a smaller desolate rock with people that hated us I’m afraid.”

They laughed around, even the quiet Helaena. She was exceedingly kind, but off. You chatted with the dragon seeds before asking, “May I ask, where is-.”

The dead-silent Aemond spoke, turning his intense gaze upon you, “He’s either hungover, asleep, bedding a whore, or all three I’m afraid Lady Celtigar.”

Your face fell but you lightly surmised, “I had heard as such. Even at this age?”

The Valyrians all nodded in unison. Jacaerys teased, “Since he’s gone so much that wouldn’t stop you from ahem- taking matters into your own hands.” Baela squawked and Aemond waved his hand muttering about moon-tea. The sweet Helaena grabbed your palm, her amethyst eyes searching your soul. She deadpanned, “The trap will be set.” You tore your gaze away, disturbed.

The young Lucaerys waved the dreamy Targaryen off and started about training with Ser Harwin— Aemond rolling his eyes. The stoic second son unnerved you even at such a young age. He was two-and-twelve and dreadfully serious.

With a yelp and a curse, Aegon Targaryen, second of his name stumbled in the room. Ser Westerling shook his head and marched the drunken boy into his chair. You scrunched your nose at his disheveled state. Aemond pinched his brother and the Velaryon blooded Targaryens giggled.

Aegon turned slowly to stare at you, glazed eyes surveying your form. He was probably seeing double from the way he closed a purple eye. The adults watched in horror, Viserys looking pale in the face. Daemon smirked, murmuring something in High Valyrian to the Princess Rhaenyra. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, a sudden need to slap the boy silly arising.

He slurred, “Y’ma betthrowed? Naht bad for ah crab! Bih’ skinny for m’tastes.” The thoroughly disheveled prince devolved into a fit of high-pitched giggles. You bit your tongue til it bled. Lord Celtigar’s gnarled hands drew white gripping the table. Alicent marched up and grabbed Aegon by the ear, hissing and spitting. He protested but stumbled along, falling down multiple times. Silence ensued before Otto and the King apologized and dinner returned.

Your appetite had left you, choosing to swirl the mash around your plate. The rest of the children shot looks of pity. You sniffled to hide your angry tears. What an absolute ass— the warnings were not enough. You bitterly remarked, “At the least the sot finds me comely.” A couple of chuckles filled the table and that was the last it was discussed.

You lamented your existence in your chamber. As much as a girl of twelve-and-ten could. If your possible betrothed was that much of an uncouth drunkard you would reconsider the elder Lord Crabb. Not like it mattered anyways— you were simply a pawn. Staring out into the bay you thought about sailing away. You’d probably get drowned or sold to Lys but the thought was soothing.

Your grandfather chuckled when he saw your frame bundled up on a chair. He ambled over and sat across from you. Petulantly you kept your mouth shut, eyeing your kin. He placed a spotted hand on your shoulder, smiling. You croaked, “What is so lighthearted about this grandsire?”

He replied, “Regardless of the young prince’s antics, the pair of you will be married in years time. He has sobered up and given his approval. For the time being, you will stay in King’s Landing as a lady-in-waiting for Princess Helaena.”

You spat, “I am honored to serve my family. Even is my betrothed is a drunken wretch. Please do visit, or send my brother, I fear I will be eaten alive.”

Bartimos guffawed, even taking to slap his knee. He leaned in and and spoke lowly, “Give the boy time. The prince will see what’s right in front of him, then that’s when you dig your claws in. My girl, who mentions King Jaehaerys without good Queen Alysanne? Be a lady, worship the Gods, and bide your time. Boy can’t see past his cock currently. Claw Isle is a mere ride from here, I will be watching.”

Your grandfather’s blunt words warmed your heart and set you to laughing, bringing happy tears to your eyes. In a flurry you hugged the sour crab and thanked him. He murmured, “The crabs feed on the helpless, just wait and see.”

A couple of months later

The royal children scampered around the secret beach under the Red Keep. Baela and Aemond had argued over an age-old pirate hiding his treasure in one of the many alcoves exposed when the tide was drawn. So down they went, Aemond snootily declaring when the best time was based on the moon. Jace snorted under his breath, “Cad.”

You and Aegon were at odds end; bickering and caught in petty bets. He shoved past you down the crumbling stairs, you sending a boot to his skinny legs. He stumbled and shrieked, “Piss off crab!” You huffed and stomped down. Luke nervously looked around, quavering. Rhaena seemed ecstatic, holding the dark headed boys hand.

Once on the shore, Baela pointed at a particularly jagged cave opening. She declared, “Thats the description that Aemond and I found!” Aemond sniffed, “We have two hours until tide surges back in, let’s go.” Aegon yawned, rolled his eyes, and swaggered forward to the cave. You followed along, picking up a seashell or two along the way. Your betrothed snorted, “What are you, Joff now?”

You tossed a pebble at him and shouted, “It reminds me of home you cretin! Keep moving!”

Aegon glared and trailed behind Baela. She stopped at the edge of the opening and turned around. She informed, “It’s going to get wet, but we have to be fast. Everyone got a weapon?” The group held up their daggers dutifully. Aemond charged in, his boots sinking thigh deep. Aegon groaned, “Greaaat.”

You shoved him forward and held the rear as Luke and Rhaena tromped in the darkness. Baela lit a torch, illuminating the cave. The gloom went further on. You hummed, “Maybe Helaena could’ve used her weird prophecies.” The princess had declined the adventure, informing you to bring her back a beautiful shell. Aegon groaned in disgust and barked at Rhaena to keep going.

Down and down they went until the kids stumbled upon an old chest. Luke yelped, “Gods! It’s real!”

Aemond snipped, “We don’t know yet fool.”

Jace bristled and you murmured some calming words. Aegon complained, “Pry it open then. I’d like to not drown any time soon.” Baela shushed the eldest and gathered Jace to wedge their daggers under the lid. With a crack it opened. The kids all gathered around to peer over it. Inside lie a strange jade figurine and some gold coins.

“Treasure,” Rhaena cheered!

Aemond’s eyes glanced about and he hastily demanded, “Tide’s rising. Let’s go. Crab, grab the stuff you have a bag.” Your eyes narrowed at the idiotic nickname Aegon had given you and unfortunately had stuck. You dutifully stuffed the items away. The tide was rising quicker than expected, everyone scrambling to leave.

Luke coughed up seawater on the shore, Rhaena patting his back softly. Aegon brooded like a wet cat. Everyone was accounted for. You snapped, “Thanks for the help when my foot was caught! Pompous ass.” Aegon shrugged disdainfully. You threw another pebble at him.

3 years later

Times had changed as of late. Rhaenyra had taken her children and Daemon’s girls to Dragonstone. There was a horrid incident involving the loss of Aemond’s eye by his cousin. You missed them dearly. Life was dreary. Helaena was sweet as could be but you were bored. She wasn’t the talkative type. Aemond dug into his studies and training. Aegon had reached the age of 6 and 10 and dove into his second passion besides drinking himself into oblivion; fucking anything with a hole. You eventually found yourself so deprived you asked for some lessons on defense from Ser Criston, the knight accepting happily.

So you had a regimen where you visited the knight a couple days a week to learn swordsmanship, brawling, and throwing off a wayward man. Aemond had quietly even thrown a compliment. Today you wrestled with a page boy, digging him into the ground. Ser Criston clapped, giving pointers.

The mood was promptly ruined by the grating voice of your betrothed.

Aegon stood with his unkempt long locks. You could smell the perfumes of the whore house and wine pouring off of him. Aemond rolled his eye, putting down his sword. The eldest prince remarked, “So you wrestle in the mud like a common beggar? Fitting for a crab.” Criston snapped, “Forgive me your grace but she is out here unlike some people I know.”

You pulled up the page boy and glared at the asshole. You snarled, “I bet your soft belly wouldn’t last a second against me, lazybones.”

Aegon’s pale fists clenched and his face gained red splotches. He hissed, “Why would I get in the mud with a weak girl?” Aemond piped up uncharacteristically with chicken noises. Throwing his hands up, Aegon snarled, “Fine. Let me put my hair up, wench.” You got into stance, ready to show the spoiled princeling.

He lunged and you slid between Aegon’s long legs, wrapping your arms around them. With an ‘oof’ he hit the ground. You wrestled on top of him, lightly shoving and punching. This was very cathartic for you. Aegon shouted horrid obscenities and kicked at you. Your hand gripped around his long throat, your mouth set into determination.

“Yield yellow belly!,” you demanded with another squeeze.

Aegon’s face grew very, very red. A pitiful noise left his throat, the boys eyes looking pointedly away. Then you felt the length between your legs. You gasped and got off, giving the perverted prick another kick to the side. You’d never seen Aemond and Criston laugh that hard in your life. As you trudged off, the elder son stared around in bewilderment before screeching at the men in the vicinity.

2 years later

If you had the choice you’d put Aegon’s head on a spike. He’d do the absolute same. When he wasn’t salaciously flirting with you…often followed up by an insult. Cards spread out on your table, a flagon between you two. He purred, “What do I get when I win?” You frowned and shuffled your cards. When you stared at the prince you grumbled, “You’d get your pox riddled dick cut off— do the realm a favor.” Aegon glared, “So bitter at a young age.”

“I’m a year younger than you loutish pig.”

He waved a hand and the pair of you started to play. Every round you had won, the increasingly annoyed prince demanded another go. The flagon had been replaced by that point too, mainly swallowed down by the blonde. You teased, “Seven above Aegon, you are simple!” Aegon’s cheeks flushed adorably hideously and he threw the cards across the table in anger.

Yelping you chided, “Really? Grow the fuck up.”

Aegon crossed his arms and muttered, “I don’t want to play the dumb cards anymore.”

“What? Do you want to play come-in-to my castle, blanket up a Red Keep like babes?”

Aegon leaned over the table and lecherously glared at you. He hummed lowly, “How about I come into your castle, Celtigar?”

You promptly slapped the shit out of him. Aegon held his cheek, eyes wide and pouty lips gaping. You grumbled, “This is not my idea of fun. Go to the brothel for that. I have to see to Helaena.”

Aegon sputtered but couldn’t form words, gaping after your retreating figure. Aemond’s voice called from behind, “Definitely not an idea of fun brother. The crab does not like you.” Aegon grumbled, “Tell me about it.” He held his cheek in heat, but his chest flip-flopped in a strange way.

1 year later

Helaena sung a melodic song in the Godswood. Her and Aemond’s children played about with a servant. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were gorgeous children, cracking open the sealed off part in your heart that yearned for love and childbearing.

Too bad you had the most idiotic, philandering, vain soon-to-be husband. The wedding was in plan for the fall. Winter was coming after all. The Starks had a point with that. The pair of you had ignored each other, Aegon did whatever debauchery that filled his free time while you read and accompanied sweet Helaena.

You paused and stared at the bleeding face of the Weirwood. Helaena hummed, “The weirwoods. They watch all of us. Silently, but there. They know everything.”

Holding back a snarky rebuttal you questioned, “Do you think the Trees know if my prince will consider me to be human eventually?”

Helaena stopped her fine needlepoint and grew silent. The whispering of the trees filled the garden. Even the children gazed up from their toys. That look of hers was upon you. The look that saw something you would never fathom. The past, present, and future. She whispered, “The broken dragon needs a shell.”

You hoped her strange words would alleviate something. Never in the way you expected per usual. She returned to her needlepoint, a knowing smile on her lips.

In a different part of the castle, Aegon was in his cups, again. Aemond sat with with his long legs primly crossed. The one-eye groused, “What could you possibly want drunkard?” Aegon bemoaned, “I think I am attracted to my future wife.” His brother snorted and leaned on his elbow, waiting for elaboration. The elder brother continued, “She’s beautiful, strong-willed, sexily stubborn, long legs, nice tea-“

Aemond waved a hand, “No more. If you didn’t act like a right prat to the young crab then maybe she’d be more willing. I’m going to be blunt. The lady is not interested in a whore-mongering, khat snorting, drunk arsehole. My only advice is go grovel at her feet if your simple self hasn’t ruined that.” Aegon shoved some bread in his mouth and bolted, leaving the second son to shaking his head, a smirk on his thin lips.

Later that evening you had retired to your quarters, reading a book on the history of Yi Ti. The grand maester had lent it to you due to your fixation on the wild lands of Essos. Your eyes flickered up at a crash. Your betrothed fell in. Literally. You slammed your book down and spat, “Gods! A warning?” Aegon’s teary eyes met yours.

You remained seated and questioned, “What the hells are you doing here? Don’t bring your drunken nonsense to my quarters!” Aegon responded with an ungainly crawl to your knees. You batted off his grasping hands until he held them clenched on his thighs.

You deadpanned, “Did Otto put you up to this? No I’m not bedding you either.”

Aegon sniffled, shaking his head. You watched as his tangled tresses swung around. Pity grew in your stomach. You snapped, “Out with it?” Aegon asked so, so softly, “Can I hold your hands?” You remained skeptical until pausing to stare into his violet orbs. With a sniff you placed them into his palms. The prince’s warm hands enveloped yours, squeezing tightly.

He croaked, “I- I- fuck. I think something is wrong with me. Is it too late for forgiveness?”

“Of course something is wrong with you,” you ignored the man’s second question.

You jolted when the blonde shouted, “No!,” he grew quiet, “I mean no.”

He continued, “I was dumb. I need you. I’m cracked in the head, broken, nothing makes me happy anymore.”

You crossed your legs, dumbfounded at Aegon’s words. You questioned, “Is this a farce? You despise me…I despise you. This is a political union.”

Aegon’s wide eyes poured tears. He whimpered, “On the seven- just give me a chance. Let me try to be good to you m’lady. I don’t want to go into a loveless marriage like they did.” You knew he was mentioning his parents. Squeezing the distraught dragon’s hands you let out a soft noise.

You stated, “If we work together, I think this could be a good idea. Now quit your weeping. Let us go sit on a roof and we can make terms. Forgiveness is earned, not given.” Aegon nodded, holding onto your palms for dear life.

Aegon mumbled, “I don’t despise you. You’re just…intimidating. Someone I wish I could be.”

You sighed, “Maybe. Just maybe I do not despise you. Just need some…discipline.” You grabbed his palm and pressed a gentle kiss to it, the prince’s breath hitching. Happy tears sprung to his sullen face. You hoped you were making a good idea and could have fun from the broken dragon’s changes.

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 5 ("CH-CH-CH-CHANGES / TURN AND FACE THE STRANGE") EDITION

Well, well, FUCKING well. Man, I am REELING. THAT. Was a HELL of an episode of a drama. Jojo and his team need to applaud themselves.

Let me set this up by sharing with y’all a tweet that really stuck with me after episode 4, but I think it’s pertinent to episode 5:

Now, yes -- this is a touch of a generalization (many of my queer friends are straight-edge-and-or-early-to-bed-while-living-in-cities folx), but I want to note something important in this tweet.

Before I got started on episode 5 last night, after having seen a lot of the meta and reactions on my dash throughout the day, I shot a note to dear @ranchthoughts that I thought I'd have to get a little #oldmom on this episode. Speaking to chibi's note above: toxicity happens to be a common human trait. Seeing that there was QUITE a bit of surprise for Boston's "outing" of Ray to Sand on my dash actually surprised me.

From my lawyer friends, I learned about the following concept, and I just cracked the fuck up the first time I heard it, because it rang really true once I got my head around it: a lawyer friend once told me that when he started out at a typical major American law firm, his orientation included hearing a presentation from an older managing partner about the idea of the "equal opportunity asshole." Meaning: there's workplace harassment against protected classes, like race-based or sex-based harassment. But: can you get sued if you treat EVERYONE AROUND YOU like shit? And, he didn't mean on a personal level, not on an attacking level. Just on an abrupt, aggressive level. A bossy level. A very direct-toned level.

That kind of interaction -- an interaction with an equal opportunity asshole -- we know those kinds of people, right? These kinds of folks are...titchy. They might jump to conclusions. They're rooted in their worldview ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. They lack empathy. They make you feel unsettled. They are emotionally disconnected from you. They have NO interest in being emotionally connected WITH YOU.

When I dove into episode 5, I really thought I'd be writing about Boston as the equal opportunity asshole, and I think that this theory still holds to a great extent, but -- there's a but, a slight and fascinating-to-me but, that I'll get to in a second.

@ranchthoughts did the thing once more of covering EVERYTHING in her episode 5 ephemerality breakdown, so dear Ranch, I'm just gonna repeat some stuff you said in my own words, if you don't mind. First off, a couple of gushes:

1) That blind dining scene had me swooning. "Life is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you're gonna get," was what I was hearing when I was watching that. These lovely idiots are blind to what's happening in front of them, and what that means to them -- BUT THAT'S OKAY, BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNG. YOUNG AND INEXPERIENCED. The blind dining metaphor, oh gawd -- using your senses to come to realizations about how you're truly feeling, and how to connect better with WHAT you're feeling? Slamming my hands on the table! BRILLIANT. Mew is SO clueless (OR IS HE?!?!??!).

1.5) And -- remember (all you young folks out there!). Youth is fleeting (cc the Ephemerality Squad). What we're watching of this cohort of "friends" is their building their bases of life experiences NOW, that will TEACH them how they will live more EXPERIENCED lives in their futures. Will their lives be better? Who the fuck knows. But their FUTURE LIVES will be shaped by what they're experiencing NOW.

2) Ranch nailed this already, but Sand is just as bad as Ray in living in the annals of time. (He's also naughty for another reason, which I'll get into in a postscript.) He's got the vintage tees, he wants to rewind to Woodstock, he's a fan of mostly classic Brit rock (....I will not call the Arctic Monkeys classic Brit rock, I will not, thus, "mostly," lol.) Dear friend @neuroticbookworm described this phenomenon of Sand's in the frame of Ray dabbling in a day of poverty tourism, as essentially what his day and night with Sand constituted. But I'd also add that Sand's living in a fantasy world of a couple levels to break the monotony of his everyday life. Those flashes of hope that he'll travel to world to festivals one day -- as he clocks 450 baht (around $12 USD) per bottle, as he sings, as he gets up and gets down -- yes, Ray is his fantasy, his non-existent 25th hour, Ray is the break from monotony that Sand needs as a thing to look forward too. Of course it comes crashing down.

3) But it'll come crashing down anyway, because I will posit the following: Sand's survival fantasies are necessary to keep him going by way of motivation, because Sand is going to be held back by others, and not just Ray. Sand is caught in a trap of filial piety. (OH SHIT! GIMME!) He's paying off his mom's debts.

We don't know how much the debts are. [We're seeing in Dangerous Romance that Sailom is getting his ass beat if he and his brother don't pay the debt collectors on time every month. Shit, the debt collectors are even trying to make Sailom an escort (which then turns into Kanghan buying off Sailom himself, but lemme leave that alone, WRONG SHOW)]. But even Sand's mom admits: Sand is solving a problem of MY OWN CREATION. How good is my son? He's a very good son. Drink up, honey.

Sand thought of Ray: wow, this guy might be into me, and shit, I'm into him. And I could use this right now! I could use this break. And that illusion came crashing down when Sand -- an intelligent dude! -- put two and two together real fast. And Sand, very rightly -- because he is FAST learning independence, in a totally different way than the main OF quartet -- pulls the hell away, and puts away the fantasy of Ray at Alone O'Clock.

3.5) I just want to note, real quick, that we now have TWO of my favorite-ist themes in this show: we have intergenerational trauma by way of Ray, and filial piety by way of Sand. THANK YOU, JOJO AND TEAM! *This* bitch is TRACKIN'.

4) Big ephemerality note here: I just, I SWOONED, GOD, I LOVED IT, WHEN RAY REVEALED HIS MOTHER WAS AN ACTRESS. And that she was bitter about getting pregnant and how that affected her career. Are you kidding me? JOJO. NINEW. ALL OF YOU. BRILLIANT. The ephemerality OF SHOWBIZ ITSELF.

Aren't all these actors risking their damn careers by potentially BLOWING UP THEIR SHIPS for the sake of this show? (I mean, that's actually a little far-fetched, as FirstKhao will be the first GMMTV pair to have an intercontinental fanmeet, BUT STILL.) God, the commentary on the FICKLENESS of showbiz was just CHEF'S KISS.

5) As Ranch noted, this was the episode where CHANNNNNGGGGEEEEE was the big bell ringing. Top needed something different than his sexual monotony -- so he goes after Mew, and shit, homes is bored AF. (@lurkingshan covered this perfectly here.) Mew contemplates changing for Top, the LASIK, the sex, all of it. Top seems to try a different kind of sex with Mew -- soft and romantic sex that ends with "I love you." Nick (oh, my bubby Nick), changes for Boston, becomes ripped, finds buttons and slacks. Boston contemplates whittling his list down. Ray wears secondhand (lol, it's called "vintage," asshole). Sand changes his routine to accommodate Ray.

And yet. I very, very often say in my posts that the process of behavioral change is INCREDIBLY difficult.

The five stages of behavioral change are: pre-contemplation, contemplation (Nick and the podcast), preparation, action (Nick at the gym), and maintenance.

The risk to this process, at any point in time, is: RELAPSE.

Think of how difficult it is to quit smoking. To go on a diet. To start an exercise routine. To stop biting your nails.

What is the thing that marks these processes more than anything else?

It's the RELAPSE into the old behavior, the old habits.

We really saw Boston trying to change...something. Trying to stick out...something with Nick. Trying on something new. Kinda like the way Ray tried on his secondhand shirt.

And then Boston experiences a familiar trigger: a trigger of jealousy when Mew calls him, innocently, to give Boston the heads-up that he's about ready to experience some cherry magic.

And that trigger, like all of our own triggers -- stress, a change of environment, a change of the people around you -- sent Boston back to a place.

Listen, I will, in no way, ever defend Boston's behavior. He was drunk and high AF, and he's generally toxic. Jojo is totally egging this on.

I would absolutely call Boston an equal opportunity asshole. He's only seeing the world from his own worldview, his own desires, his own desire to control whatever he can control around him.

But like I said before: toxicity is FAR more common that we'd like to believe. And toxicity within someone doesn't disappear very easily -- just like any of our habits, be they good or bad habits.

Boston was trying out a new life, for a few minutes (lol), of being a LITTLE LESS EPHEMERAL, a little less aloof -- a little less toxic. And a trigger brought him back to his bad place, and I think what we saw in that damn outburst was a relapse of the highest order.

Ray repeats to Nick what Top and Cheum have already said. This guy, Boston? He's nasty. Stay away. Boston's an asshole. Boston's still being stigmatized, and still living up to his label.

How would I summarize all of this? Throughout this ENTIRE episode, what was screaming within my head, as I said above, was: youth is fleeting. Youth itself is ephemeral. The experiences these young folks are going through at this moment in this show will build their experiences for how they will survive (or not) in their futures.

We may think that Boston, and Ray, and Mew, will not learn from their dumbass behavior, but -- they will. They will have no choice. Because their time being this young, and inexperienced, and idiotic, will flee. They'll graduate, and they will have to learn how to survive in a "real" world that may very well be far more brutal to them than their proximate friendships are to them right now. And man, if they have to experience lives that are MORE brutal than these proximate friendships they have, then good LUCK to them, because, well -- shit. It ain't pretty the way it is right now.

...

P.S. I just thought this whole scene was brilliant. Sand, honey, you're not as innocent as your meow feelings are letting on. I'm holding you accountable for what you're saying to Ray, too.

P.P.S. JENNIE.

(HAPPY SUNDAY, EPHEMERALITY SQUAD! @ranchthoughts @lurkingshan @neuroticbookworm @distant-screaming @slayerkitty @clara-maybe-ontheroad @twig-tea)

(HEY, SQUAD: if you tag me in things, and I forget to reblog, send me a DM! I'm on the last stages of this moving chapter of my life, and I don't wanna miss your meta!)

[queerpunktomatoes]

Okay, folx. I'm trying to set up a Mutual Aid Network. I do not know what I'm doing. But I am trying, and I invite you to try with me.

People from all countries and backgrounds are welcome. The network's language is currently all in English.

This platform is called Zelos. You do have to create an account to join, but it is accessible both by app and web browser. If you're interested, please DM me. I'd love to put the link up, but I'm worried about bots and spammers. Here's how that conversation will go.

You: Hi, I'm interested in the mutual aid network.

Me: Hi, yay! Here's the link.

I am *temporarily* capping the group at 20 people so we can learn the system without getting overwhelmed. If you're interested in starting your own with the foundation I've laid here, please let me know and I'll help. If there's interest I might make a tutorial.

Image Description under the cut

You are invited to join Mutual Aid Network

Supporting each other and educating ourselves while learning to create mutual aid networks in our local communities.

WHO WE ARE

This Mutual Aid Network has two primary missions.

1. To care for each other. “From each according to their ability, to each according to their need.” (Karl Marx).

2. To teach us how Mutual Aid Networks function so that we can set up movements for change in our own respective communities.

We value education, respect, direct action, community, and equity. We prioritize hope. We believe in the possibility of a better future and recognize that change will only come with the actions of people like us. Our small efforts matter, and we acknowledge the good changes we see in the world while still allowing ourselves to grieve the bad.

We are fiercely anti-capitalist and fight systems of unjust power. We are anti-racist, anti-sexist, anti-intersexist, anti-fatphobia, anti-ableism, anti-sanism, anti-Islamaphobia, anti-antisemitic, anti-homophobia, anti-transphobia, anti-xenophobia, anti-colorism, and anti-colonialism. We are not just for people’s rights, we are against systems that perpetuate harm.

We stand vehemently for the rights of our siblings, including people we do not understand. We fight for all people to have basic needs met such as food, water, shelter, clothing, religion, work, leisure, community, and peace. We stand beside communities that have historically been marginalized, exploited, and abused.

We do not all agree on the minute details of how to create the world we want. But we do all agree that fascism and imperialism are increasingly threats to our communities, our world, and the people we love. We agree that our hyper-capitalistic and -individualistic society is causing us harm. We agree that education and community are going to get us through the coming turmoil.

AND WHAT WE DO

1. Our primary goal is to support others and build community for when we ourselves need support.

2. Our secondary goal is to educate ourselves and each other on capitalism and its alternatives, the reality of our world’s history, and liberation efforts both past and present.

3. Our eventual goal is to have a confident understanding of mutual aid and our own strengths, that we can each begin to provide mutual aid in our local communities.

We do this through three main channels - time, effort, and money.

Anyone can set up a “task” on our dashboard, which anyone can complete. We all have different skill sets and different resources to offer. Examples of tasks you might see include (but are in no way limited to):

Errand/chore swapping (Will you make my dentist appointment? It gives me anxiety.)

Practical skills (I will teach you to darn your socks or how to grow potatoes.)

Awareness raising (I found this campaign that really needs our support.)

Emotional support (Who can listen to me talk about my anger and fear?)

Resource sharing (I need help finding shelter this weekend.)

Language and identity education (Who will give feedback on how to make my speech more accessible to disabled people?)

Group volunteering (I’m going to pack backpacks this weekend, who’s down?)

Financial support (My medication is getting more expensive, is anyone willing to help me with this month’s?)

Radical self-love encouragement (If you’re seeing this, remember that the world needs you and go get some water.)

Local tasks (I just heard there’s a little free library in town, will anyone donate any books with me?)

Cultural sharing (I’m from x country/culture/region and want to tell you about how we do things differently.)

Educational resources (I want to learn about Indigenous sovereignty, does anyone have recommendations?)

Sale/coupon/bulk buying info (I can get us a good deal if I get more, who wants in?)

Trade/swap/leading (I need a tool kit but don’t want to buy it for just once. Anyone have one I can borrow?)

Organizing work parties (It’s the beginning of the week, who wants to hang out virtually while we meal prep?)

The other main feature is the chat, where you can talk with your fellow community members. Each member is encouraged to pick one thing they really care about (prison reform, reproductive freedoms, transgender mental health, etc) and dedicate regular time to it on their own. It’s all according to your ability at any given time and is not monitored, but as you participate in your chosen cause’s fight, the chat is the place for you to share what you’re up to and give any updates. It’s also for regular chatting! Friendship is not a requirement of membership, but it is encouraged as you are able :) Community is about fun too. We as humans need fun, and it’s getting harder to find.

I’M READY, I WANT IN

By filling out this form (which is not an application! mutual aid is for everyone!) you are acknowledging that you agree with our missions of communal care and education. You understand that mutual aid networks require your involvement, and you intend to do what you can to better yourself, this network, and your larger communities. You know that being authentic and vulnerable is a part of creating community, and you are willing to practice trust and growth. You agree that community is the most precious thing we have, and you want to fight to protect it.

~Please note that the form asks for your first and last name. That’s by default and cannot be changed. Please provide any name you feel comfortable with being called. It does not need to be your name. If you prefer being unidentifiable, that is a-okay.~

[whitehotharlots]

It appears the manic safetyism the left has mandated for the past 15 years has begun to harm their ability to report issues that generate the demand for said safetyism.

A shame, really. Media overrun by guardrails protecting people against threats that were so fleeting and phantasmal they were forgotten long ago, everyone forced to pretend that terms like "unalive" replaced "dead" organically, or at least for reasons understandable to someone, somewhere, who is not completely insane.

I saw a thing the other day--one of the slimiest forms of clickbait where someone re-posts a piece of social media on a different platform, from a bigger account, presumably reaping ad revenue off someone else's content. It was one of them "Am I the Asshole" threads from Reddit. Don't remember its content at all--those are mostly fake, anyway--but it stood out to me because the word "Control" had been censored in the headline and throughout the piece. Apparently that's bad brand association, gives people the ick in regards to whatever Chinese boner pills or Keto supplements or knockoff contraceptive devices need to be sold to keep the internet functioning.

That got me thinking about all the times you'll see a video that contains naughty words that are spoken clearly in the audio but replaced with asterisks in the captioning. I had presumed this was a simple extension of trigger warnings, people wanting to avoid getting yelled at or having their accounts suspended. It's just "being a decent fucking person," after all. Any psychologist will tell you that the profound trauma survivors suffer upon seeing the word rape in print goes away entirely if the word is spelled r*pe. Words are violence, after all. They cause hurt to vulnerable folx. Do you want to be violent? Do you realize how many people you're killing every time you speak? Just do what what we tell you, obey our ever-increasing slew of incessantly weird and petty linguistic mandates or else I'll call your boss, tell your teachers, get you fired, put you in prison, etc etc.

But taking away ad revenue? Oh no, oh shit, that's a bridge too far! Won't someone think of the click merchants?!? Weep for all the important stories that shall no longer be profitably told--the trans influencers changing our perception about public architecture through dance poetry, the brave women exposing the inherent sexism within Behtesda, Maryland public sanitation department, the bold new Alf conspiracy theory that's drivin' fans insane, the development of 6 new cocktails inspired by the third season of HBO's Arli$... all gone, beaten, washed away like tears in the rain...

[vi-sigoth]

Hey there folx! It’s Sunflower🌻(she/they) coming here from Nicies Farms, a non-binary Anarcho-Communist farming collective! I thought I’d update our little blog to let you know that the purple 🟣basil bbys I planted have started to sprout! So you can look forward to purchasing purple basil bundles later this year at the Farmer’s Market (masked customers only 🙄) 🌸💐

In other news, we’re looking for a new housekeeper for the commune and also a new farmhand. Oven Mitt (they/them) has really bad anxiety and doing dishes sets off their PTSD so they’ll be resuming their full time job of writing their poetry chapbook series (*Explorations of Enby Jesus*). 🌷🌷🌷Our farmhand Matt (they/him) got caught sexting underage girls so he’s going to reiki therapy right now to address this. More later! Bye!🪻🪻🪻

[dyspunktional-leviathan]

Today's mobility aid update: apparently, I am now a Full Time Wizard Staff User.

_

Tl;dr: I'm a cane user who needs more support and has shoulder problems, I am beginning a cosplay of a dnd wizard, and turns out that apparently a staff is better for me than a cane.

(still planning to try forearm crutches and would like a powerchair eventually but well, I'll compare all those too. And for now, I have my staff.)

& also, the wizard I'm cosplaying, Raistlin Majere from Dragonlance, is canonically very disabled and uses his staff as a mobility aid.

_

Backstory: https://www.tumblr.com/dyspunktional-revan/717836384898023424, also some follow-up https://www.tumblr.com/dyspunktional-revan/719407235725492224 (I did try two canes and it was *horrible* on my shoulders).

And now I've been planning a cosplay of Raistlin Majere (who, by the way, canonically uses his staff as a mobility aid!! A young mobility aid user (25 in the first book (Dragonlance series), had to use a mobility aid since 21)! A disabled magic-user who is disabled not because he is magic-user (has been disabled all his life, an event that disabled him much more at 21 was related to magic but the disabilities themselves were not magical — his body was just severely weakened and broke down more; and *couldn't be healed* for magical reasons but not from magical afflictions)! And more and more and more I love Raistlin so much).

There had been several things at home that could go for the staff's pole but they all needed work and weren't very handy to walk with. But now I got a new one — a drape runner that wasn't holding in the wall and had to be taken off; and — this particular one was already an appropriate length. And empty inside, and thin and firm enough at the same time thanks to being metal (wrapped in some kind of plastic). I still had to give it some tip to stand on, and it wasn't even cut straight. It's 25mm and the standard cane tip is made for 20mm.

And then my mother had a genius idea. She took an old cane tip, and *shoved it in*. And it holds perfectly.

Now to the mobility aid part!

So, now I have a proto-staff I can actually walk with, and at first I felt like my cane was mostly better. But then I wanted to stand up and my legs hurt really bad, I took my cane at first but then I decided to take the staff instead — it can offer more support, especially if I hold it with both hands.

After a while, I put it down and took my cane — and realized that the staff was actually better. My shoulder instantly felt much worse. Idk about the rest because I just put down the cane and took up the staff again, and had been using it for the rest of the day.

I'll probably still need to use a more conventional mobility aid outside (when not in costume)... For one thing, I don't think anyone's going to offer a bus seat to a guy with a wizard staff rather than a cane or a crutch (eh. Also that applies to when in costume too, thought about that long before I'd thought of actually using the staff as a mobility aid outside of cosplay).

Although perhaps btw I could, like, try to ask, hey I have leg problems, I actually use a cane when not cosplaying, could you please,, Idk.

As I said in tl;dr, I'm still planning to try other mobility aids, planning to buy at least one forearm crutch as soon as I can go out (currently ill). I'll compare that and the staff too, might alternate like folx do alternate their conventional mobility aids? And eventually I would like a powerchair, don't know if it can ever become possible for me.

[stanfordprepped]

[[Alright now that I have conquered the ask box, here is a little summary of my Sam's canon divergency for those of you who are new here or haven't seen it yet <3 My Sam's powers never stopped post season 2. The visions and things kept on, though unreliable. He also spent more time with the special children [a few weeks to be exact] after they had all gathered in the s2 finale. He led them and tried to keep them safe before ultimately Jake killed him and things progress as per how the series did. But he didn't come back completely normal. He started having this craving, this hunger that he couldn't quite identify. Later, around season 4 he would learn what this craving was. Sam never stops drinking demon blood post season 4 though he only does in moderation/when needed because his body needs it for sustenance and also to boost his powers when needed. It was realized that his body actually needed it after his last detox in season 5. Sam's powers stay what they are in season 4 though he only uses them when needed. Everything is true to canon until later seasons from here where Sam decides he wants to use his powers to try and keep anyone from taking over Hell. For a little while he essentially fulfills his role as Boy King [can be after Crowley or omitted for threads where Crowley is King of Hell] until eventually he gives the reigns to Rowena and just serves as a guard of the gate to keep anything bad away. [I do have a side verse though where he is just boy king. I didn't want to fuck with Rowena's storyline too much so that's why I mentioned him handing it over]

And that is all folx. I also have an angel au too for those interested in that kind of thing. ]]