#i NEEEEEED HER SO BADLY

[parparparfait]

h.hey guys did... did you know.. shes real.. did you know that....

[abigail]

immorallondon x creepyyeha is my dream kinda outfit. if i am being so honest

[bmpmp3]

i need more variety of relationships in my ocs, most of them are either besties, worsties, or like. coworkers. i barely even have any ocs with siblings

[unlikelysaintdelele]

I neeeeeed the elriel book to make references to their past interactions that we only got to view through Feyre and Nesta. references or flashbacks through their perspective.

Like how she devoured the sight of him when he came to rescue her from Hybern’s camp.

Like how she breathed “beautiful” at the sight of his hands. Was it his scars or his siphon?

Like how she stepped out of a shadow to kill Hybern. Was that azriel’s shadow? How was she able to wield it?

Like how they sit in the garden together, so close yet so far, clearly enjoying each other’s company.

Like how he stayed with her well into the morning to look over her plans for the garden at the town house, clearly enjoying her talk.

Like how Az stayed away from the river house, where elain stays. why is he avoiding someone he clearly enjoys being around?

Like how Azriel can smell her mating bond with Lucien. simply put, how the fuck?

Like the bonus chapter scene, but this time from Elain's POV. Does she want him, need him, crave him, just as badly? she clearly wanted his hands on her, but how far?

What was she thinking when he suddenly pulled away and called it a mistake? Does she question the Cauldron like he does? Does she even care about the whims of the Cauldron?

what "exchanged looks" and "occasional brush of their fingers" did we not get to see?

it's driving me feral, the knowing what they have done from what was shown so far and the not knowing what they have done when we couldn't see.

[sky-kiss]

Sorry! I’m feeling selfish, sick and self indulgent. I neeeeeed more Soft!Raphael in my life! Maybe him “””reluctantly””” taking care of a Sick!Tav but secretly he loves having total control over her health and having her all to himself (for quarantine reasons OBVIOUSLY). It’s one of the few times he can let his guard down and it’s all cuddly and squishy…maybe a little slutty as she recovers…idk ya know, you know I love your writing no matter what you write xx

A/N: I’m so sorry you’re feeling unwell. Hopefully this helps a little. Gonna be my last one of these for the day (cause I have something criminal in the works).

_____

She’s a pathetic little thing.

In a rare fit of deference, he opts not to hold this against her. She is mortal. 

And, he thinks, perhaps…there is a touch of guilt coloring their interactions. Tav is sick because of him. She scrubs at her nose, shivering near the window. She’s found a blanket to wrap herself in, but it does little to cut the infernal chill still seeping into her marrow. Cania’s cold was unlike anything else across the planes. And still, she’d braved it for his benefit. 

“Come here, little mouse,” he says. Tav turns to him, brow furrowing at his tone. It’s softer than he’d like to admit, and he will attribute it to exhaustion if she asks. It wouldn’t be a lie. 

“I’m tired, Raphael.”

“Justifiably. But,” Raphael holds out his hand. “You’re liable to catch your death, my dear. Cania is an unforgiving place.” 

“The fire…” 

“Holds no sway. You will struggle to chase away its touch even here, safely tucked away on the Prime Material. I offer a reprieve.” 

“After everything, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford your price.” She stands, shaking badly. There’s a touch of blue on her cheeks. He loathes the woefully mortal half of him, softened by the sight of her. It is charmed, even as the devil longs to tear her apart. 

“Then call it tribute. I find myself…in a rare position. I have taken great pains never to be in another’s debt.” Raphael sets his hands on her shoulder. The way her breath catches doesn’t escape him. Her eyes flick down to his lips. The devil shakes his head. “It is not a role I welcome.” 

She smiles, relaxing under his touch. “Raphael, you don’t owe me anything. I…” she chews her lips, turning into his touch. His fingers skate down her throat, over her collarbone, chasing away Cania’s chill. “I wanted to help. You’re important to me.”

He chuckles, hands skating down to her hips. He catches the hem of her shirt and drags it over her head. Tav doesn’t resist. The silly creature’s eyes glitter with trust and naked affection. It is maddening. “You should never supply that information freely, mouse. It comes at a cost.” 

“I’m not a devil,” Tav mumbles. “I want you to know.”

Raphael raises a brow. She helps him strip her. The cambion snaps his fingers to undress himself. And if the adventurer flushes a violent red, her gaze pointedly averted, he ignores it. This isn’t about that. It’s gratitude. 

He walks her back towards the single bed. Tav stares at him, eyes wide and wanting. He allows her to settle back among the pillows before stretching over her. Raphael settles between her legs, humming until she wraps herself around him. Tav tucks her face in his throat, shivering, clinging to him. The cambion is warmer than any mortal, and his infernal nature chases away Cania’s infernal chill. It bends to him. 

And if they drift off to sleep like this, tangled together, who can fault them? It’s practicality, he’ll argue. It’s calling the debt due. 

These excuses will come later. For now, there’s heat and silence. 

[gefionne]

AHHHHH!!!!! I neeeeeed to know more about A Ritual Interrupted for the WIP game!! I am already 😍😍😍 at this concept

AHHHHH! Okay, so you have the premise: that Lavellan makes her appearance at Solas's ritual heavy with child and that is what distracts him enough for Rook to knock the scaffolding down.

The idea was to have the story from Rook's perspective, with her having to play telephone between Solas (trapped in the Fade) and Lavellan (staying at the Lighthouse for the last month of her pregnancy) as they negotiate this insanely delicate subject.

Regardless of all his big talk about his beloved living her life to the fullest before he pulls down the Veil, Solas is beside himself with anger and jealousy because he thinks the baby is someone else's. Poor Rook has to deal not only with his mood about the gods, but now this.

Lavellan is evasive about the situation as well, but of course wants to know how Solas is taking the news (Rook: Badly, fam.)

Eventually, of course, the truth must come out: that Lavellan went time traveling back to Arlathan with Dorian's help to scope out the Dread Wolf and ended up in his bed. (Can you blame a girl? It's been 9 years and she's still hung up on him, so she wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to bang it out with his younger self.) One-night stand with past!Solas and she's got a baby on the way.

Rook then has to relay this to Solas and basically watch our poor pookie melt down because he's going to be a dad and can't destroy the world anymore.

Becoming a parent being the reason he changes is mind is, perhaps, trite, and kidfic usually isn't my wheelhouse because I'm childfree myself, but this one lives rent free in my head (and my WIPs folder).

[mandy4ever69420]

t he thing about the gay friends vs polyamory plot. thing. is i think a bit they were getting at something there about how it can be hard to find gay people in a platonic context if you don't have a good starting point. especially for people who are insecure and self validate through romance. specifically i think due to the "you can be gay but keep it to yourself" thing slash "i don't care what people do behind closed doors!!" as a faux ally statement that just serves to treat gayness as a sex thing. you know, like a homophobe. or the general society thing about romance/sex being written as the be all end all of relationships. but why would you write a plot like this about ian and mickey. crazy horny shut-in monogamous gays of all time who cannot tolerate the company of other people.

Again i think this would do better with debbie. who Also tries to self validate though romance and in season Eleven has a romance that she put her whole sense of self into way too fast blow up in her face. ian needed gay friends in season 1 and 6. he's literally ok now. debbie's plot neeeeeeds like a year of finding herself as a young lesbian and having friends and making normal bonds. Like she needs that. so she can hook up with sandy and have it go badly again. what mickey needs a joint and a good excuse to ghost his brother in law

[peppy-jester]

Just watched the episode.

I feel bad for Via. Me who aren't in terms with my dad almost the same reasons as her, I vibe.. I know how it feels. We stan her decisions and feelings in this house!

Also...

M & M!! This is gonna be a nice one. See Grandpa Crimson may not approve.

Just hope we get to see Barbie and Blitz (plus Fizz) episode on season 3, we need it! We neeeeeed it so badly!

[dollwarren]

rh runway leaks...i neeeeeed stock photos of jade i want to get a better look at her outfit pieces so badly. mostly because i want to see more of how they did her hair 

[averyalaska]

Hello :) i just read the entire head first, fearless and OH MY GOD????? It’s so fucking good i can’t even put it into words, like you are so amazing!! Seriously i want to send it to tim burton and tell him to make that for season 2 or even better give larissa her own spin off show. Again fucking STUNNING!! Hope you continue writing.

Have an amazing day!!

AAAAAA thank you so much anon :’) i’m really glad you liked it!!! i neeeeeed larissa back so badly for season 2.

i’m definitely going to write more about larissa, my obsession with her is still going strong!

THANK U AGAIN FOR THE LOVELY MESSAGE ILYYY

[ichayalovesyou]

Bro can I hear more of your Una headcanons bro

OH BOY I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED! 🤩

Una Headcanons!! 💛

Like I said in my Una Loves Puzzles post I strongly headcanon her as autistic, or at least the Illyrian equivalent.

Autistic Una Headcanons/Character Analysis

I think she was absolutely a hyperverbal (as in talking full sentences by age two) and lining things up kind of autistic kid (which is my kind lol). She’s learned to reign it in a bit obviously but the organizing oh my gawd

I mean, have you SEEN how bubbly she gets at the prospect of organizing files?! Same vibes when I decide to rearrange the dvds or books in my house lmao. She clearly deeply enjoys repetitive/tedious tasks most people find boring or unpleasant. “Where fun goes to die” for YOU maybe! Chin-Riley and I are just built different. Spreadsheet nerd solidarity!

I know part of why people find her intimidating is because she’s first officer and tends to keep her distance (plus most people would look stern next to Chris let’s be real). She’s shown that’s she’s a gentle and caring person after you move past that though! I think the other part of it is that she comes off as stoic and hard to impress because that’s straight up just her face, her emotions and facial expression don’t always connect in a noticeable way. Another autism mood!

Probably had that more tender, friendly side of her on display before she had to hide her identity from Starfleet Academy. She seems lonely and wants to make genuine connections with people. She even got really chipper and funny by singing with ensign babey Spock in the turbolift in Short Treks. She starts letting herself do that outside of La’an with her blooming friendship with M’Benga. But it was really hard for her because she didn’t wanna out herself by letting people get too close. But since M’Benga knows the truth it’s easier.

What seems to be her absolute core motivation, for joining Starfleet, for connecting with people, for unraveling mysteries is this INTENSE and all-consuming desire to understand. Understand the world and the people around her, perhaps partially to help her better understand herself! Which is again, 100% a huge mood. It seriously informs how she interacts with people:

She has a natural affinity for closed off people, people with secrets, it’s why she’s good at keeping other people’s secrets and her own. She has a habit of gravitating toward people who are hurting very badly but doing a great job of fooling everyone else. Without exposing them in an uncomfortable way. It’s how she gets La’an to start therapy, gets M’benga to tell her about Rukiya, and gets Chris to question his complacency in his own future.

She shakes people up and makes them curious as to why they are the way they are. Her compassionate curiousity via not being 100% on conversational boundaries when she feels close to someone is genuinely infectious!

The Origin of “Number One”

Either her name was already Una and she changed her last name to sound more human (I bet we’ll get a real last name reveal after the whole court martial thing blows over). Or she changed her name to Una knowing that it meant one and started encouraging #1 as a nickname (I mean she even signs the scorch with it lol). That OR back during Academy days she didn’t know and Chris noticed and joked about it and it’s stuck ever since! Either option is absolutely freaking adorable!

Other little things (+more Autism lol):

She’s 110% a dog person, or a dog-like creatures person lol

NEEEEEEDS schedules and checklists, they’re the best thing ever invented, she has hundreds.

Extremely competitive in that she doesn’t care about winning, but she hates hates hates losing.

She hates the texture of the normal uniforms which is why she wears the jacket skant 90% of the time.

Is either a secret goth off duty or full on bright colors and clashy pattern and texture mixing to match her equally wonderful eccentric 60s inspired hairstyles. Possibly both! (Which, again, MOOD.)

Would double lace her boots if her boots had laces. Combat boots or light up sketchers, no in-between.

She does elaborate hair and makeup as a routine thing to keep her hands busy in the morning.

She’s messes with her hair as a stim which is why she keeps it out of the way so often, also Bouncy/Swingy Leg!

Might start holding back less with her ridiculous strength, maybe even be a lil’ bit of a show off. I’m just SAYING, she might be able to lift Chris (I’d kill to see that even once.)

She loves dad jokes and would make more if Pike wasn’t constantly generating a massive surplus. Pretends to not be amused because then Chris would be Too Powerful.

She unintentionally gets really loud when she’s happy. Seems like she’d do the happy flappy arms stim too.

Strawberries may be her favorite but I bet she’s a sucker for rhubarb pie!

Also I’m willing to bet money that she’s bi! 💖💜💙

[oonajaeadira]

For the Love of Fic: August 22

I’ve been compiling these for a few weeks now, reading in the in-between times when I had spare minutes. The next few weeks is just me playing catch up. Let’s begin. Here’s what I’ve loved in the recent past...

DIETER BRAVO

Locked Down Part 15: The Goodbye and Part 16: The Escape by @something-tofightfor Holy crepes, part 15 was just beautiful and hard all the way through and it’s a testament to this writer’s beautiful skills that I started out at 100% yearning and it just. kept. going. And part 16...the yearning abated only a little. I’m just happy for the end of the ordeal.

Belly Button by @katareyoudrilling I love an eager sub Dieter. He’s just adorable here, just as desperate as he seems to be in the rest of his life, just a little slow on the uptake, but a truly good boy. As I said in my reblog: Who doesn’t love a good meaty sub? 

Overworked and Underpaid by @mandosmistress Who doesn’t love a good crackfic for the crackiest of boys? Working for Dieter is an odd job full of...odd jobs.

.

JACK DANIELS

It Goes Like This Forever by @writeforfandoms Jen’s back at the dragonranching and I’m here for it. We’re getting into some intrigue here and I know what comes next can’t end well, but I neeeeeed to knooooowwwww

.

JAVI GUTIERREZ

Crisp Apple (part of The Fox, The Mage and the Cupboard) by @littlemisspascal I know I sound like a broken record, but I really love this world. It’s my comfort fic and the way magic and the Pedro boys are woven through it is so clever and wonderful. I mean, I love all the characters and the story...but Rae had me at putting fox ears on Javi and bonding him to the reader. I cannot tell you the noises I make just thinking about that boy. This chapter though, centers on a convo with Santi. He’s a little shit, but in the best way. I would love to have this assassin-turned-musician on my side.

.

FRANKIE MORALES

Real Sugar: Two Days before Cassis by @deadhumourist This series always makes me hungry. And when it doesn’t make me hungry for foods, it makes me hungry for Frankie.

Changes by @insomniamamma Oh my gods this is the softest, most wonderful way to fall in love with Frankie and I want it so badly that I’m hurting. Short, sweet, soft, perfect. Fucking hell I yearn...

Medicinal Purposes by @grogusmum and @flightlessangelwings It’s a fact, orgasms can cure migraines. Enter Frankie to the rescue. Hot and sweet, just like I like him.

.

MAX PHILLIPS

Time and Time Again by @beecastle Oooo. Goddess reader and an immortal vampire? And an ending that teases the possibility of...something beyond? I mean, if this is just going to be a one-shot, I love the way it ends. But if it’s gonna be a series, then sign me up.

.

MARCUS PIKE

Punchbowls & Pincushions by @leslie-lyman You may have noticed that I don’t read Marcus very often. But you may have also noticed that I read everything that Leslie writes. I trust her to help me fall in love with this Dudley Dooright of a man, this goodest of Pedro boys, this soft, beautiful sir. A quiet little meditation under the trees, a fleeting infatuation...aaaand she’s done it again.

.

GIO (DIETER BRAVO)

Buttered Toast by @beskarberry Crackfic to the highest degree. I think I broke for a full minute laughing at Gio’s toast-protectiveness. Istg this is exactly the effed up dream my brain would make me sit through if it ever decided to give me a Pedro dream. And I’d probably laugh all the way through that one too....

.

NICO

Nautical Twilight by @insomniamamma J is by far my favorite Nico writer. She captures his strange voice, but also reveals a sensitive, fractured soul underneath his calm and confidence. The carapace is really cracking now...and it’s beautiful to see...

.

[johneroserotica]

The Writer’s Pen

“Good girl, don’t stop – keep rubbing that throbbing clit for me. I want to just jump through the monitor and torture you with my own fingertips.”

“Please!! It’s too much, I need to come… I neeeeeed to come. Fuck I can’t hold it!”

“Don’t you dare come or I’ll ruin your next 5 orgasms in a row.”

“Pleeeeeease!!!”

“Stop. Just circle it for 10 seconds. No, begging isn’t going to help. How badly do you need to come?”

“Oh God… fuck. OH GOD. More than… I can barely talk. More than anything. I’ve been desperate for days. I’m begging you to let me come. Please. My pussy can’t take it anymore.”

“Get close again. Just think of my mouth torturing you right now, my tongue slipping back and forth over your mound, flicking your twitching little clit until your hips are shaking.”

“PLEEEEASE! My hips are already shaking. I need to… I’m going to-“

“-Stop. Hands away. Good girl, I love seeing your hips rocking in need. If you travel and visit me, perhaps I’ll be able to give your pussy what it needs most. Just imagine me fingerfucking you hard right now while sucking your clit mercilessly.”

“Can I please touch it? Just the thought alone nearly has me on edge.”

“No… that’s enough. You’ll have to wait.”

“Oh no please please please. That’s too cruel. It’s been two weeks. I’m desperate. I just HAVE to come.”

“No. Not today. Suffer with need until we next can play. I have to continue writing more for today.”  

“One day you’ll know just how it feels,” she growled in warning, though was met only by a cold laugh from the one who had brought so much pleasure along with so much frustration.  

With that, the writer ended the webcam session, putting an end to any hope for her to receive the relief she desperately needed. Another follower, another victim, whom he had brought to a knife edge, left dancing in his web of cruel ecstasy.  

You reap what you sow.

How many moans had he elicited? How much erotic anguish had he been responsible for? How many times had the words he had written, and sent out into the world, caused for the most exquisite torment?

For years he had penned stories capturing the imaginations of so many. So many online sessions where he had tormented countless women with the possibility of climax, only to deny them and leave them wanting more. At least a decade spent detailing every facet of sexual longing and exploration. So many women, all enraptured by every stroke of his pen. So many were introduced to the world of slow sensuality, reading his scenarios which all had them teasing themselves intently, denying themselves their climax until his pen dictated it. All those squeals of longing which he had been solely responsible for.

Edging: the act of pleasuring oneself to the brink of orgasm, then holding it back, denying oneself again and again until the need for release was unbearable. Like invisible hands extending from him, his stories and instructions seemed to caress his readers, touching them from afar and introducing many to a world of arousal, frustration, and overstimulation. There was no telling how many people he had brought to tears of need through his detailed events and instructions. What he did know for sure however was how much pleasure it gave him to know just how intensely he had made these readers come; all the edging, all the denial, culminating in countless eruptions of pleasure.

Sometimes he would feel especially cruel, writing out scenes and instructions detailing ruined orgasms. He knew how much his readers would suffer from this; building up that well of need, ready to burst, only to then have the sensation ruined – to be instructed to stop masturbating right at the point of climax. Such cruelty, causing the joy of orgasm to be replaced with the frustration of not being able to fulfil the desires, a climax ebbing away instead of gushing forth.

Every word from the writer’s pen was etched with lust, with desire, with a longing to induce unimaginable pleasure to every reader before being sent out into the world. What aroused the readers most though was the understanding that everything he wrote was fueled with cruelty.

Cruelty craves company.

When he woke in a haze, he was already stripped naked. Everything around the bed seemed to be in a fog, so he had no idea whether it was day or night.  

A woman massaging his torso was quick to tell him that this was no dream before addressing him further.  

“That’s it, simply relax and enjoy what is in store for you.”

With how she began to move her hands down his front, towards his already erect length, he would not have tried to get away even if he weren’t already seemingly under a spell which rendered him dazed and immobile.

‘What kind of black magic is this?’ he wondered to himself as he struggled to move at all.

Wordlessly, she began stroking him, lovingly embracing his length with her palms. While she did not have any oil on hand, it certainly felt as if she had coated his member in the silkiest of concoctions. It was as if the most perfect sensation of masturbation had been plucked from his mind. Every inch of his cock burned with pleasure, so swollen and erect that it felt three times its size. Occasionally she would return to massaging his torso, layering kisses from his chest down to the base of his cock, before returning to stroking him.

He had no idea how long this went on, time itself did not seem to exist. Every time he tried to tell himself that this was a dream, ignoring the fact that the sensations were too real, too intense to be a scenario within his mind, the woman assured him further, “This isn’t something you’ll simply wake up from.”

As she continued to stroke his length from base to the tip, the writer began to wish that she would wrap her wonderful lips around him. The wish soon turned to a prayer, which soon turned to a declaration of need, “Please!!!”

She ignored him and continued to work her hands very slowly and sensually up and down, before paying much attention to the head of his cock. She circled and teased the bulbous tip, backing off each time his cock danced to her touch on the brink of orgasm. Once she began flicking her tongue against his frenulum, tormenting that tender underside of his cock, he could feel precum flooding out, trailing down his shaft.

If he were able to think clearly, with thoughts unburdened by the all-consuming need for sexual release, he’d perhaps have recognized her from a picture long ago. One of the first pictures he’d received, a provocative image sent in appreciation from his earliest follower, the reader of his very first story. She had edged many times to his work ever since that initial time.

However this manifestation of hers came to be, from whatever black magic he could guess at, she was to tease him to the brink for as many times as he’d caused her to endure since day one to now.

“Please, you’ve had me on the edge for so long… so long! Please let me-”

His sentence caught in his throat as she then engulfed him. Every inch of his cock seemed to be straining against itself within her mouth as she worked her lips up and down. Somehow, he had not come, yet the intensity was overwhelming. So many times being brought to the brink all concentrated into one central, stiffened relic of agony.

With a loud ‘pop’ she released him and spoke, “I’m not going to let you come that easily, silly.” She smiled longingly at him, then began stroking him rapidly. “Tell me when you’re right on the edge.”

With how sensitive to the touch his manhood was, he was shocked that he hadn’t erupted after the first couple of strokes, yet still he was able to last another minute of mind-numbing ecstasy before signalling, “I’m going to come!”

She let go of his length, which twitched and pulsated with need, desperate to be held, to be touched.

“You should be careful with whom you choose to be your victims. How many people do you think you’ve caused to edge? How many times has each person endured that sensation of denial?”

Suddenly she was gone before he could think of an answer, and in her place without warning was another woman.

“Hush now. No need to be confused, just focus on how swollen those beautiful balls of yours are, how tight they must feel. Fuck I want to ride your cock right now. It looks so painfully hard. I’ve wanted to do this to you for so long.”

“Who are you? How is this happeni-”

Placing a forefinger against his lips, she silenced him and replied.

“You’ll have hours and hours to ponder the answers. Though some of us you might recognize, many you’ve never seen before. But every single one of us will unleash the same upon you which you had given us.”

With that, she crawled up atop him, straddling him so that his erection was between her legs. He simply watched as she slid her pussy back and forth along the underside of his cock.

“Please, I… I’m aching for more.”

With that plea, the woman lifted her hips and guided him within her.

In the writer’s state of hypersensitivity, he could feel every quiver of her pussy, every sensitive fold convulsing around his twitching length which became entombed in slick pleasure. He watched as her breasts swayed up and down while she rode him, the stiffness of her nipples hypnotizing him in a display or pure arousal.

“Do you think your cock could take feeling my pussy glide up and down one hundred times before it exploded, before you came for me?” she asked, smiling at him, her eyes piercing him with mischievous desire.

‘Not a chance’ he wanted to shout out, feeling like just once more would easily make him come, but he wanted it so badly that he had to conform. “Yes… yes, just please let me.”

She then began bouncing up and down quickly, making him gasp with every downward thrust, burying him to the base within her. He knew he should have climaxed by now, yet he held back his cries of need. All he had to do was last.

Seventy-six… seventy-five. Utter torment.

Forty-two… forty-one. Her pussy juice was dripping down his balls.

Twenty-nine… twenty-eight. He tried desperately to thrust up as well, to no avail.

Ten… nine. His cock felt like it was ready to explode.

Two… one. Mercifully, he’d escape the prison of her wet, writhing walls trapping his tortured cock.

Zero… she stopped. He remained buried within, right on the edge.

“FUCK… Please!!! I’m begging you! Let me come.”

As he begged and pleaded, she convulsed on top of him, clearly in the midst of an intense orgasm while his length twitched within. Once it was over, she seemed to fade and disappear, just as the person before had.

“Fuck me from behind,” came the order of a different woman, who was now standing at his side. Without any effort on his part, the writer stood and carried out the action, as if he were merely a puppet with invisible strings. Whatever black magic this was, he was unable to control a single movement, like he was merely a character in someone else’s story.  

The woman knelt on the bed as he thrust within her, his hips seemed to be guided, plunging deeply inside to the hilt. He fucked her hard, though he felt like a passenger, watching as his length slid deeply within and back out without being in control of a single motion, his hands gripping her waist.

“Please… I need to come,” he could still speak of his own accord. The moment he was on the brink, one thrust away from erupting, she called out.

“Stop.”

His hips pulled away, the tip of his cock just resting against her swollen red pussy lips, precum dripping onto the bed.

She turned onto her back, looking up at him. “Let’s try that again, I want you to be on the edge while you’re inside me this time.”

“PLEASE. I’M BEGGING YOU. LET ME COME!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. Don’t you see… every single person you have edged and teased from your stories, every girl who has experienced their first moment of teasing. Every female who has masturbated to your scenarios. They all will edge you as many times as you have caused them to edge. You will experience every moment of denial that you have caused. Again, and again and again. It will not stop until every single moment of edging has been reciprocated.

“But… that could be thousands of times before I get to come!!!”

“Before you get to come? You’re forgetting… you also ruined many orgasms… so you’re enchanted cock is going to experience every ruined orgasm you have caused. Your throbbing length is going to feel so many ruined orgasms before you get to fully climax… and then you’ll have to experience every orgasm you’ve ever given as well.”

With that, his hips began thrusting back and forth, once again beginning his hellish denial.

She was quick to tell him that this no nightmare either. He would not simply wake up from this torment.

The writer’s pen was no longer in his own control. The entity of every woman who he had edged and teased through his stories and through online webcam sessions would visit him. Whether he had caused them to edge once, or one hundred times, he would suffer the same fate, unable to control his own body while they used him like a toy. His cock would throb and twitch, fit to bursting, yet he would not receive the mercy he would soon beg and plead for.  

In a state of near delirium, after every moment of near climax and after being held on the brink for what must have amounted to hours overall, the final person would show: the very last person who he had done a session with.  

“I’m going to edge you as many times as you edged me, just like the rest. But remember, don’t be foolish enough to think that you’ll finally get to come after all of that. You may have suffered through hundreds if not thousands of times being brought to the brink… but don’t forget how many ruined orgasms you’ve been responsible for as well.”

The writer would be in a hell of his own creation.  

[thelamephotographers-blog]

Double S

Alright. 

This is my first rant. It's currently midnight where I live. You ready for this stupidness? I don't think you're ready for this lameness. I mean.. dumb.

This is the original. This is the person who made me decide, "hey.. lets make a frikkin blog to vent all my frustrations with complete strangers on".

I often find things eating at me. When I upset people, I just want to fix it. My fault, or not.. I just want to make things right.

I am a young photographer. I looked up to Double S for the longest time! She inspired me as an artist. While I was in high school, I heard of her for the first time.. and ugh! She was wonderful. She was everything I aspired to be in the fine art portraiture industry, and more..

Now. Lets skip five years forward.

I messaged double S.. ugh. I just wanted to be a local photographers friend! I wanted to collab so hard. I wanted tips.. I wanted knowledge.. I just wanted a new friend who had the same passion and style as me. I was new to the area as far as photography went.

In my head... it worked out great.

Now.. Double S had ignored me numerous time. Hey.. thats okay. I understand! This lady is practically a photography GOD to me at this time. She's just... ugh. Serious goals man.

One day, I see Double S post a status. She posts Pinterest images in the comments of said status.. Its an outdoor boudoir. These images were inspiring! They were beautiful, and I NEEEEEEDED to be apart of this! I comment, going outside of my tiny bubble knowing I could be rejected. I say, "I would LOVE to be apart of this!"

Fast forward a bit.. and Double S and I decided to collaborate on this shoot. We chose two models! We were styling it, talking to the models.. and she took the business side over. Thats fine! I got say in it!  I helped choose outfits, and models, AND props...That was fine by me. She can totally have the contact with our models. I was just excited to meet her! This woman who went viral. This one all my friends had their senior photos done by in high school. I assumed, great. We have the contracts signed with an understanding of everything! All is well. There was miscommunication since the beginning.

Long story short... the day comes. I opened up to this photographer, she opened up to me.. It seemed a little weird however, she didn't have many friends in the industry. I was amazed at all this drama she knew about! I fed into it. I am so guilty. I listened, and was surprised. I could not believe the words she was telling me about these other photographers! Now.. at this point, I got Leary. I fed into it. She ranted, I ranted.. I listened. Dumb, Dummy dummy dumb dumb!  (I won't go into detail, due to privacy reasons).  However, we talked back and forth like friends. Joking about situations, people.. you know. Friend things. She had mentioned how she ignored my messages, and then one day saw my page and said "wow. She's actually pretty good." (This was the first and only nice thing she said about me) She told me she left so many groups, because it upset her seeing these people and how they made her feel bad about her own work. Okay, I totally understand. I wanted to relate with her. We had a convo about a local photographer who steals clients from others  (thats a whole different story... lets call her Nacho) after she told me about a few photographers who copy her ideas and steal her ideas... and this photographer (nacho) , to the T copies me, (we are talking outfits, location, and the exact spot and pose I did!) and others. Double S had talked about certain things this photographer does to copy her too! Wow.. I am so glad she understands me. I just needed to vent a little. It hurt me, being in a small town.. these things made me original.. and they weren't original after these things happened. She understood me! Wow!

Day of the photoshoot comes. It goes great. I pose a model, she fixes it. She poses a model, I fix it. It went pretty good. She made fun of me during the shoot, but eh. I don't take things seriously! I even brought my blanket for warmth, and ended up using it during the shoot. I took it as fun teasing! It was a little negative, but hey.. that could just be her personality, right!? Thats fine. I can deal!

Now, short time goes by. I believe around 3 days. Her and I talked super often, laughing about things, making fun of silly things.. It was like we were super close. I talked to her, explaining "Wow, I cannot wait to learn more. Shooting with you has already taught me more on posing the woman body!" Ugh.. I talked her up. I just continuously told her how amazing she was! I am HUGE on raising others up!

So, I ask double S.. "Will you second shoot for me?" It goes fine. My new light set wouldn't  work, she had a speed light.. ugh, thank heavens! Saved my butt. I am so glad the second photographer I hired (yes, hired. Keep that in mind) had a backup source.

Couple days go by. We edit a couple boudoir images, and Double S messages me. She was freaking out! Her images were out of focus! Her darn lens. I felt so bad. She asks if she can edit one of mine or something to post along with a few other messages, and I just volunteered.. "Girl. I don't care! I can do six or three doesn't matter, I was gonna edit extras because I love them hahahaha Girl don't stress"

So, I do. I deliver them. Okay, awesome.

I edit our second model. I post them. Okay, whatever..

I get a message. This models husband didn't like the ones I posted of her! Crap. He was fine with the ones double S posted. So, our model asked if she could pay me since I couldn't use mine. I did not even know where to begin.. so I agreed. I said, Sure. Just pay half of what the session would cost if you want since I cannot use the images of you for my port like originally planned.

Well. that was the wrong answer. I let double S know about it all.. and she got livid.

Crap. I did something seriously wrong apparently. I told her, hey.. you can have the money! She offered, I just figured it was good business practice. Nope. She was angry. She wouldn't chill out. She wouldn't let it go. I tried so hard, begging her to let me know what I could do to make it right. I just let her be mad at me, continue to make petty remarks until I finally was over it. I. BEGGED. HER. I pleaded. I kissed her butt. I didn't realize I did something bad. I asked advice.. every CLOSE friend of mind (again didn't mention the situation or names), agreed I did what I should have.. Yet.. I was just worried about upsetting her. She told me, she doesn't understand why this model would pay me, not her.. blablabla..

Now.. she kept making remarks saying it was her shoot, she should be paid if anything.. she did it all. She posed. She styled. Her idea.. I was like, WHOA. Absolutely not. That.. that was NOT true, and I told her every single thing I came up with. Now. After being ripped into, I had enough.. She made me feel like crap. She ripped me a new one.. I mean. Harsh.

I messaged a local photographer. He was friends with tons of people in the area! My friend T told me about him, saying he is super nice if I want to collaborate with a chill person.

I message him. I had messaged him in the past about random things! Trying to make new friends in the area I had moved back to.

The message read as following.

"Hey! I have a question. I'm working hard on modeling the female body this new year, I was wondering if there is a resource you prefer? I was working with/learning with another photographer but long story short, it didn't workout or we could steal T and do some fun stuff LOL

He replied:

Oh no, sorry things didn't work out!

so are you talking about posing? Or modeling in general?"

Thats it. It was great! No drama, no names, no obvious conflicts.. Him and I talked on and off for a couple weeks...

and then I start seeing more statuses from double T.

So, I made a blog post.. because I fed into it. I felt like I needed to fight back, since I knew she was talking badly about me. Statuses, etc.

My post basically said I collabed with another photographer after seeing these amazing Pinterest images she found.

Whoops, bad thing to say..

That escalated. Maybe that was bad of me.. I don't know. It was petty, but I felt the need to defend myself.. which, does NOT make it okay.

She made a huge post.. I get on Facebook. Guess what face I see? The second model. She took her out behind my back, doing another boudoir shoot of her. She posted this photo, and ripped into me in the post. I mean.. wow. No names, but obviously about me. She talked badly on my style, bad about my posing, bad about everything.. ugh. It was awful. I was so sad. I blocked her after messaging her, because I was so upset! I couldn't believe she did that. She admitted to it being about me.

Then, she proceeded to tell me how I have no idea who I am messing with, nobody cares about me, and she knows I've been talking bad about her.. WHAT!!?!?!?!?!?!?!? NO WAY! I had not said a single word about her. She tells me nobody cares, and blablabla.

She acted completely innocent. Eventually, I just said one thing. "I don't understand why you have to be such a mean human." I was so done.. I couldn't believe how nasty her words were. Letting me know how irrelevant I was, and how nobody cares and nobody would ever copy me.

She calls me. We hash it out, that was the end of it... or so I thought. Turns out.. this other photographer was the one she said I talked bad about her too. She pretended she heard about it from other people, which I mean.. was obviously not true. It was rough. Turns out, those two were talking about me behind my back. She didn't go into much detail.

Well. I hadn't talked to her. She talked bad about me to this photographer, and hey.. it bothered me. Should it have? No. She bullied me, and scared me into thinking she could Ruin me.. all for what? What did I do? Exist?

We stop talking. The last thing I heard from her, was her asking if I lost a lens cap.

I see her at the store, avoiding eye contact.

I made the decision.. that hey. If she wants to talk bad about me, good on her.. but I won't give her a reason. If somebody believes her.. then they aren't worth convincing.

I get on Facebook yesterday. Turns out, she blocked me. I can only assume it was due to the encounter at the store, or because I posted a status looking for a second shooter when she used to be mine.

Truth is? It hurt me. I still cannot believe something so silly arose. I begged and begged. I didn't want her destroying my name.. I was so nice. I let her rip into me. I did. Multiple times, before finally standing up for myself..

Truth is? I am a people pleaser. I begged her. Literally, begged her. I begged her to let me know what I could do, or what I should have done. In the end.. those people will always find a reason to not like you. Count on that. I did things wrong, but you know what.. those people? Will always find a way and a reason to hate you.

I learned a lesson. You DO NOT need to please everybody. Sometimes, people will hurt you in order to heal themselves. Let them. Learn YOUR lesson, move on.

Is it dumb drama? Absolutely. Is it something that eats at me? Sure is. Is it silly? absolutely.