#non nude celebrity

[celebnudesarebest]

Miley

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.

*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one and part three! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.

What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?

You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.

I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.

Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?

June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.

Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.

And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.

I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.

I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?

My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.

What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.

I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.

I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.

I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.

It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...

"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.

My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"

I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.

"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.

You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.

Why is this oddly arousing?

With one final shove I landed onto my face.

There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.

No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.

Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.

Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.

[yanderestarangel]

did u delete a fic? i swear i saw a tio!miguel fic earlier today

a/n: hi angel! thank you for asking, in fact there was an age restriction and I decided to delete it, I'll take advantage of your comment and repost it. ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

"TIO" MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER

𝐓𝐖: dark plot, toxic relationship, power play, non con, dub con, manipulation, age gap, step!incest (non-blood uncle), invasion of privacy, stalking, threat, dead dove, dark smut, latino ftm reader, femboy reader, jealousy, aggressive sex, recorded sex, dom!miguel, v!sex, blowjob, spanish nicknames, send nudes, degradation, objectification, AU, male x male, porn plot, long fic, brain rot, creampie, blackmail.

Family parties were normal for your family, getting together some close relatives and celebrating on any weekend, always with plenty of music and laughter filling your ears, was annoying at times, but you couldn't say 'no' to a tradition.

You felt the cold of the night breeze enter your skin, each hair left its place accompanied by a strange chill ── you were being watched, and you knew very well who it was... Tio Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara was a friend of your father, a mysterious and serious man, even though your family welcomed him as if he shared the same blood, he still had the same look of rigidity and seriousness ── no one knew much about his past, if he had some relationship or family before moving to your city years ago, but it was only said that he worked as a caretaker on some local farms ── which made him earn too much money for a simple caretaker, but that matter was not touched by no one in your family.

You obeyed the strict rule of calling him "Uncle" or "Tio", since when he arrived, when his eyes met yours, it was as if something awakened in his core ── a flame lost for years, now burning in his soul, and you it was the kerosene that made this fire worse.

Your attention returned to reality, seeing the tanned man go to the place where you were, sitting next to you; muscular legs crammed into the black jeans he always wore, with a weather-beaten dress shirt that had previously been white, now appeared to be a light vanilla shade, hugging the girth of his robust muscles. He had a cold, fresh can of beer in his right hand, while his left went towards his hair, arranging some loose strands that insisted on falling on his forehead, his lips formed a thin line, the corners turned down in disapproval ── The sight of you hiding from the celebration hurt him, a pang of possessiveness invaded his chest, soon remembering the things he had seen, however, before touching on the topic of rupture the words came out softly from his throat.

"What is wrong, carinõ?"

He asked softly, hand reaching out to take yours gently. His grip was firm but not unnecessarily tight, calloused skin warm against your own.

"You should be out there, dancing and laughing with your family... You seem thoughtful mi principito"

You sighed in response, quickly explaining that you weren't in a party mood, your hands went back to the cell phone that was previously in your pocket, making the Mexican's eyes narrow in response to such an act. O'Hara took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, then crushing the drink can in his hand and turning to you, he knew exactly what he wanted to know and he wanted the truth.

"Who was that boy, mi vida?”

He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame as the music swelled around you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, you felt the burn of heat on his body, the smell of expensive men's perfume and cheap alcoholic drink.

"You were speaking so intimately with him..."

His voice was a low purr, tinged with warning.

"This is our moment, just us... I dropped that phone." That was a threat, making you make a quick excuse ── after all, you knew exactly what he was talking about, you were going out with "Hobbie Brown", a friend from your college, but you didn't expect your uncle to have seen the two of you together (but it wasn't very difficult, you and the boy always clung to each other even if you didn't have anything officially. )

You moved away from Miguel's heat, before the sensation was still tolerable, but now it seemed like a violent flame and about to explode like a time bomb. Your mouth opened, speaking sweet lies, trying to mask the fact that you were going out with Hobbie ── you knew that the best way was to lie, even if it didn't do anything, you had already seen how your non-sanguine uncle acted like a crazy man when you were around people other than him. Miguel's eyebrows arched in disbelief, dark brows furrowing deeply. "Tell me, corazón, is there something you wish to confess to me?"

He asked, tilting his head curiously. His gauze lingered on your lips, as if he could taste the lie on them. "I see what happens around me, my heart."

He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

"And I do not like it... Do not lie to me, mi angel, because the next lie I hear from your sweet lips, you'll regret it." The sound of his voice was a low rumble, like thunder on the horizon. He pulled you close again, his lips brushing your ear softly.

"You play with fire... Mi pequeño."

His voice was a whisper now, his breath warm against your skin.

"And one day, that fire will burn you."

He released you then, stepping back with a harsh exhale. His eyes were stormy, his features set in a hard line. Miguel stared at you for a moment, as if he could read your thoughts, as if he could feel your fear ── Finally, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If I ever hear of another man touching you like that again... I will end him." He muttered, downing a large gulp of his drink before setting the bottle down on the table. You watched him leave, the loud footsteps on the raw cement floor were enough to tell you that he was angry. The rest of the party was strange, you felt tio Miguel's eyes on you, even though the atmosphere was pleasant for the other participants in your family, everything had gotten worse after the confrontation you had with the man ── you thought about telling about your uncle's strange behavior towards your father, but you knew it wouldn't help, they would just defend Miguel and say that you were exaggerating... But you felt like you weren't.

You went to your room, while you saw the tall man's shadow in the hallway, bumping into the walls because he was too drunk to think or stand on his feet ── you saw him leaning on your door frame, while you asked calmly if he needed some help. Miguel's eyes met his, his vision slightly blurred from the alcohol he had consumed. He licked his lips, his gaze roaming your body hungrily, but he didn't act, only a sob and a sad laugh left his lips, while he showed his white canines.

"You are mi ninõ. You always have been and always will be... There is no escaping your destiny."

He babbled, his words filled with drink, but he was serious, like he had never spoken before, you could see a mix of dark emotions that burned in his brown orbits, each word, no matter how slurred it was, carried a clear truth that could not be said aloud by several taboos.

His hands reached out, gripping your arms tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving small red marks.

"Don't forget this... You would never lie to your Uncle right? I will protect you... Incluso si es de ti mismo."

He leaned closer, his breathing heavy and laced with the smell of whiskey.

"But I will also punish you if you disobey me."

He let go of you then, frowning as he looked at the marks he had left on your arms.

"Go to bed now."

He mumbled, turning away from you and stumbling towards the door.

"Sleep well, my precious boy."

His voice was filled with alcohol, spite and a twisted desire ── the latter making his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, as he staggered out, ignoring everything and everyone around him, you tried to ignore the burning in your stomach, a mixture of fear and a bittersweet heat near your stomach, you were maybe just very tired... Right? You pushed away the thoughts that consumed your mind, trying to grab the fog of sleep that you tried to achieve, you hoped for a good day... But little did you know what fateful destiny had planned.

You woke up to your parents cleaning the house, it was a hot and irritating Sunday, you woke up sweaty and to the loud sounds of rooms being dragged from one place to another ── you really didn't want to be there, so your father told you to go to your uncle Miguel's house, even though you insisted on saying the opposite, that you could handle the chaos at home and help them, but your parent just repeated the phrase and sent you to keep O'Hara company at his house.

Everything would be better than facing him again.

You wore your most comfortable and cool dress for that sultry summer day ── your breasts bounced and you felt the coolness of the wind blowing beneath your legs, reaching your thighs and panties, an adorable boy, on the way to the wolf's house.

Walking under the sun until you saw Miguel's house in a rural area and away from the common neighborhood, you called his name, soon seeing the man come completely sweaty and shirtless, still wearing the same pants from yesterday, while drying his sweat of his brow, letting you into his comfort.

"Fine."

He grumbled, he turned around, taking you home without saying another word. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

As you entered the house, you noticed a slight disorder. Miguel's usually immaculate house really needed some cleaning. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.

"Your father said you were coming..." He sighed with a hand on his hips as he looked at you steadily. "That's good, now we can continue our conversation from yesterday, okay? I want the truth my boy, give me your cell phone, unlocked... After all, you have nothing to hide from me right... You and Hobbie are just good friends... Right?" His voice carried that threatening and authoritarian tone again, you stuttered but when you saw your uncle's look you swallowed hard and accepted your fate, obviously you had spicy messages on your cell phone, but what could you do? Running unfortunately wasn't an option, neither was screaming, you were trapped in a spider's web, and in the possessive man's judgmental gaze.

"Now. Give it to me. Or else you know what I'm capable of."

He repeated as you handed him the electronic device ─ and it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for... Miguel's eyes narrowed as he flipped through the messages on his phone. His grip tightened around the device, his knuckles turning white. A mixture of anger, jealousy and hurt crossed his face as he read the explicit messages and saw the intimate photos, you were really with that boy... You were doing everything behind his back.

"How dare you show your body to that piece of shit!"

His voice was laced with bitterness and disappointment. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking on impact.

"Do you think you can send nudes to some random boy and get away with it?"

He took a step towards you, his expression darkening.

"Did he make you wet? Did he make you excited?" His words came out like venom, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. Miguel's grip on his chin tightened, his fingers digging into his flesh. His angry eyes fixed on his, his expression filled with a mixture of possessiveness and pain.

"I expected everything... Except that, I'm tired, tired of just being seen as your fucking uncle... I can give you so much more than that boy ever could. I can make you scream, make you beg for more. But you need to understand that you are mine."

His voice was filled with a desperate need, a desire that was both warm and terrifying. He pressed his body against his, his erection evident through his jeans. You tried to protest again, in vain, you just felt O'Hara's thick lips on yours, it was strong, his tongue dominating his as he held you tightly. His hand guided your trembling hand to his hard, throbbing erection, pressing it against the fabric of his pants. He let out a low growl of pleasure, the sound vibrating against your lips.

"You always make me hard on boy... So fucking hard." He continued kissing you fiercely, your free hand moving to grip his waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pressed your body against his again, now the bulge of his pants rubbing against your thigh. The intensity of his touch and the raw desire in his eyes made your own body respond, despite the fear and confusion, it was so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.

"Do you think you can show yourself like that to anyone? Do you think there will be no consequences?"

He pushed you back, guiding you towards the couch again ─ his hands exploring your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

"Strip for me, baby boy. Show me that body you dared to share with someone else. Show me what only I should see."

His voice was commanding, his eyes burning of lust and anger. He watched as you hesitantly complied, removing your clothes piece by piece, revealing your naked form to him ── your dress was discarded somewhere in the room, your breasts bounced while your nipples became hard from contact with the air, your pussy was already wet, a simple kiss had done that to you.

He looks at you with admiration... All of that was for him, a banquet of the gods, he wasn't going to leave you in punishment, no matter how angelic you were, he was going to reduce you to a dumb and beautiful mess, totally broken for him.

"Look at you... So eager to please, so desperate for my touch. Did just one kiss from does your uncle get you this wet?"

A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took hold of his cell phone, opening the camera app with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Well, since you were so willing to show yourself to that boy, I think it's only fair that I capture this moment. Don't you agree, my precious angelito?"

He positioned himself in front of you, his cock springing free from his pants. The sight of his naked arousal feels a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. He pulled you down to your knees, his grip firm on the back of your head.

"Suck it," he commanded "Let the world see what a slut you've become."

You hesitated for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But the thought of defying him only fueled his anger further. With a mixture of trepidation and submission, you wrapped your lips around his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around his head. He groaned, his grip tightening in his hair as he began recording your submissive act.

"You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Such a good boy, taking it all in."

He continued to record, capturing each salacious moment as you eagerly pleasured him. The taste of his cock and the sound of his moans filled your senses, heightening your own pleasure. Your body responded, the tingling warmth between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

"No one else gets to taste you like this. You're my slutty boy, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

He spoke as the fat and hot tip of his member hit your throat repeatedly, making you choke and connect your nose with his groin, the lack of air making you momentarily see stars as he let you breathe again.

As Miguel reached his climax, he grunted and released a hot jet of cum into your mouth. He groaned with satisfaction, feeling the pulsing sensation as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste of his essence filled your senses, mixed with the bitter-sweet humiliation of the situation. Once he had finished, he withdrew his dick from your mouth, his grip firm on your face. He forced you to open your mouth wide, showing your dirty tongue, coated with his cum, to the camera. The sadistic glint in his eyes only intensified as he instructed you to swallow it all.

You obediently complied, gulping down his cum, heavy tears ran down your body, while his thumb pulled your cheek to show him even more of your oral cavity.

"Look at the camera....You look like a damn porn star... A filthy, little porn star."

You barely had time to react, then the man trapped you beneath him again ─ his thighs separated yours, while he looked at your cunt milking the air with so much excitement, making him laugh mockingly and dominantly ─ without prior warning, his thick cock entered your wet pussy, stretching you to your limits and causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through your body. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts.

As he thrust into you, Miguel focused the camera on your tear-streaked face, capturing every moment of your vulnerability and submission.

You were a mess of conflicting emotions, a beautiful sight to him as he reveled in his dominance over you, The desire makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong ── soon you find yourself thrusting your hips onto his cock, whimpering pathetically as you moan his name.

"Mmm, you're such a buen chico para mí.. such a good and beautiful pussy... You hid it from me for so long... But you showed it so easily to that bastard... You disappoint your uncle sometimes, boy."

His hand left the camera momentarily, his fingers finding your clit, caressing it in a way that made your moans intensify, he watched your reactions closely, moaning with lips parted, as he looked directly into your teary eyes.

"See, I knew you'd love this, aren't you? Oh, sí... Mierda- Eres tan apretado chico".

Then, with the peaks of moans and pounding of flesh on flesh, his grunts grew louder and more primal as he climaxed. With one final thrust, he released his hot sperm deep inside your pulsating pussy, filling you with his essence. When he pulled out, the camera captured the evidence of your intimate connection, showing the mixture of his cum and your own juices. Your pussy clenched and milked the air, aching for more even after he finished.

"You've taken all of my cum... Un buen chico para tu tio."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a tinge of shame as you watched your body respond to his touch.

He smiles at the video on his cell phone, while looking at you with a dangerous glare.

"Now you're going to be a good putito... After all, you don't want this to leak out to our family, do you?"

You had no choice, and maybe you didn't even want to... Miguel had broken you, as he always wanted, you were his now, only his.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[carmenberzattosgf]

blurb masterlist

blurbs (*indicates smut)

thigh riding *

physical touch*

cockwarming*

angry sex*

riding in his office*

carmy as a dad

“borrowing” his jacket

getting a tattoo for him*

bdsm thoughts*

in front of a mirror*

tiktok trend goes viral

jealous carmy another one

carmy’s kinks*

asking you to be his girlfriend

taking pictures* another one*

eating you out*

kisses from carmy

breeding* more breeding* another one* pt four* five*

subspace* another one*

fingers

waking you up*

non-sexual subspace

baking for carmy

overstim*

panic attack

marking*

helping you study*

skirts*

needy carmy*

squirting* another one*

in his office*

spanking blurb*

self care night

dword* another one*

getting a teddy bear tattoo for him*

waking him up*

sixty-nine*

corruption*

dad carmy getting surprised w/ breakfast

being carmy's housewife*

cumplay*

casual dominance another one

edging carmy*

morning sex*

making carmy cum in his pants*

virgin carmy (w/ cumplay)*

girl dinner

knives*

riding carmy's thigh tattoo*

pregnancy cravings

sending carmy nudes*

talking you through it*

aphrodisiac chocolate*

quickies*

getting you to talk*

he's good with his hands*

celebrating your birthday

vibrator*

his biceps (and proneboning)*

"i <3 my boyfriend" shorts*

hand job*

free use*

on your face*

that first thrust*

carmy baby wearing

size kink* another one*

mirrored ceiling*

good boy*

needy carmy

trying for a baby (w/ somno)

kissing carm's abs

skincare on carmy

until your mascara runs

doing carmy's nails

spitting in your mouth

virgin carmy

fingering after a fight

choking for the first time

first time without a condom follow up

inducing labor

pushing your head down

cockwarming the sequel

yet another size kink

coworkers

sucking his fingers (dword)

lipstick marks

better than he can

this masterlist is full! go to my second blurb masterlist for my newest blurbs!

[dadvans]

STIEPPER AUUUUUU AU UAUAUAU UAU AU (thats me making wolf noises)

this is one i have fully fleshed out and am excited about, but it's also suffering from the "i've re-written every scene three times until perfect," so i don't have a great, long snippet to share.

the premise is essentially that instead of moving to peru from oregon--where let me just remind everyone, portland is one of the few places in the US where you can get full nude and drinks without a crazy amount of legal maneuvering or being grandfathered from an older age--buck met several strippers and followed them down to los angeles instead. he works second string at a bar that does magic mike/thunder from down under-esque revues, but every other week has a gay night, where he takes extra shifts because the money is good, and it's the best night for tips, since the usual headliners aren't performing. working as a stripper for gay men makes buck realize he's into guys much earlier in this universe. he meets tommy on thanksgiving while working a private party for a divorced CEO who wanted to celebrate the holidays with some costumed strippers (thanks for that one, robert downey jr!)

tommy, still mostly closeted and with the 118, ends up getting flirted with, going to a gay night where buck recognizes him, and they start having a secret romance, which includes tommy flying him and some stripper friends to palm springs for some extra events, and them going to desert parties. but no dates in public.

their relationship comes to a cross-roads when the same week where buck suggests they go on a date for valentines, tommy runs into one of buck's stripper friends in another, non-stripper related emergency, and gets spooked. dun dun dun!

[rowaelinprompts]

Summer Prompt List!!!

☀️😎🌞🌅🏖️☀️⛱️🌄😎⛱️☀️😎🌞🌅🏖️☀️⛱️🌄😎

Summer fling

Beach trips

Going swimming (clothes optional)

Barbecue

Problem on a pedal boat

Bad sunburn

Campfire

Bonfire

Weekend at the lake

Fighting over shade under a beach umbrella

Stargazing on a beach

Someone uses sunscreen to draw a picture onto someone else's back while they sleep

Drawing something naughty with the sunscreen

A/C is broken and someone needs to be cooled off

Hiking/hiking gone wring

Beach sports: volleyball, frisbee, beach ball, swimming

Sunshine Character writes "I love _____" with sunscreen on Grumpy Character's back

Camping trip

Deciding you know which plants are edible

Non lethal poisoning from eating an inedible plant

Sand in the wrong place

First date picnic (at the beach)

Road trip with or without screaming kids

Someone loses their swimsuit while swimming oops

Dissolving swimsuit prank

Kayaking/canoeing

Capsizing in the kayak/canoe

Getting stranded on a remote island bc the boat capsized oh no

Baking oil instead of sunscreen

Snorkeling

Surfing

Fishing

Sailing

Parasiling

Mermaids

Wakeboarding

Tubing

River days

Lake days

Escaping a hot place, then complaining about cold winter and wishing for summer

Celebrating midsummer/summer solstice

Other summer holidays

Yacht

Yacht party

Other water parties

Doing some outdoor thing like watering plants shirtless and the neighbor ogling

Wearing a new bikini to the poll when the new hot lifeguard is on duty

Shirtless gardening, running, pouring water over shirtless self

Shorts get shorter to tempt the next door neighbor

Tanning outdoors when the crush is watching

Accidentally throwing a frisbee or something into the hot neighbor's yard and going to their front door to ger it back and accidentally catching a glimpse of the neighbor nude or close to it

Water parks

Amusement parks

Getting stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel

thanks to the discord for offering ideas!!! if anyone has prompts to add or any other prompts, feel free to submit them HERE!

[myfandomrealitea]

Honestly I'm getting really tired of how people treat celebrities.

People act like they're circus animals that exist solely to dance for their entertainment, and that being a celebrity means they don't deserve to have any boundaries or dignity or privacy.

Like I always see posts going "Oh boo hoo people are being mean to the poor celebrity, maybe they can wipe away their tears with their money while the rest of us starve :(" and it's like what the fuck are you talking about.

Them being famous and having a lot of money (although a lot of celebrities aren't actually super rich, which no one ever wants to acknowlege) doesn't give people the right to treat them the way they do.

Being rich means nothing if people are stalking you and breaking into your house and sending you unhinged love letters.

Being rich means nothing if people are taking pictures of your fucking children so they can sell the pictures to magazines.

Being rich means nothing if people are following you every time you're in public (or even in private!) so they can try and take a picture of you doing something embarassing or scandalous.

I'm honestly surprised there aren't more cases of celebrities having mental breakdowns and losing their shit due to the amount of harassment, stalking, and invasion of privacy they face.

Leave these goddamn people alone for fuck's sake.

I always see people saying:

"Its what you sign up for when you become famous."

And I just. No. So much no. No?? Non??? Nada.

Like yes when you're famous a certain amount of your privacy erodes because you become a public figure. Its in the name. But the way celebrities are literally treated like nothing more than creatures that exist for us to consume and observe and dictate and judge is fucking insane. We learned nothing from Britney Spears, apparently.

Celebrities have become such a disconnected reality from 'general living' that we are so fucking out of touch with the fact that they're literally just human beings. Eminem made a song about it and people just laughed it off as a great musical plotline and 'haha funny Stan lets turn it into fandom culture slang.' One Direction had to hide in unmarked trade vans and book out entire airports (which then got hacked) just to try to travel without getting mobbed. Toby Maguire got branded as 'rude and aggressive' for yelling at paparazzi who literally surrounded his car and blocked him from leaving a car park so they could take photos of him.

Celebrities should not have to take out contracts and protection orders and press gags just so they can raise their children in peace or take them on a fucking walk. Celebrities should not have to cover tattoos honoring their dead mother because some clown who thinks it'll turn into a Y/N moments replicates it without any care for its actual meaning. Celebrity nudes and sex tapes get hacked and leaked and the celebrity is simultaneously blamed for it and sexualised to absolute hell for it.

"Sources" are constantly selling-literally selling- private information about people and their lives and families and its just?? Considered so fucking normal?? Imagine having a miscarriage and finding out three days later that your co-worker sold that information to a news outlet and its now front-page news globally?

Imagine organising a secret, small wedding so you can have that special day with the person you love without it being ruined and you find out the fucking priest told the Daily Mail it was happening so your special day consists of hoards of photographers yelling at you while you try to speak your vows?

Honestly I believe we do need stricter regulations and laws regarding this kind of thing. I firmly believe in the freedom of photography in public spaces but I also firmly believe that should absolutely not cover paparazzi literally stalking people, mobbing them, blocking them in alleyways and parking lots, using telescopic lenses to take photographs inside their houses, ect. It simply shouldn't.

People need to start imagining themselves and their family members in these types of situations and recognise that its fucking inhumane.

[romanarose]

Triple Frontier Write-A-Thon

Hosted by @romanarose and @for-a-longlongtime

Hello everyone! March 13th of this year is the 5 year anniversary of Triple Frontier, a movie that was underrated but very precious to all of us. To me, it is a comfort movie and something that through fics and fandom has helped me process a lot of things. 

Charlie Hunnam announced recently that there is potential for a sequel and he is trying to get it in production and has signed on as a producer. Me and @for-a-longlongtime want to both drum up a little noise and celebrate this media we all love so much!

How it works

Write a fanfiction of Triple Frontier, following the content rules listed below. This is for both art and fanfiction. We encourage you to utilize twitter or instagram if you’d like to share either, and #triplefrontier or #triplefrontier2019 on any site you post on. If you don’t want to make art or write, we encourage you to use social media platforms with the hashtags to help make some noise.

We are highly encouraging LGBT themes and for you to think outside of x f!reader. 

All fics that fall under the rules are encouraged, so if you write Santiago Garcia x afab!f!reader, that’s great! But we’d like to take this time to encourage gay/bi pairings, trans readers, or even trans interpretations of the boys. Branch out!

When you post, tag @triplefrontier-anniversary on tumblr and we will reblog it there. We also may reblog onto our main, so consider tagging one or both of us so we know what’s up! Please follow that page to see what other people are writing! In the tags, please tag it triple frontier write a thon, just to make everything easily found.

If you want to post art that tumblr doesn’t allow like nude art, link the content in a tumblr post, like a twitter link, and we’ll reblog that!

If you exclusively write on ao3 or wattpad or other, you can either make a link on a tumblr post and tag us. Other option is to message me (RomanaRose) privately and I’ll make a post and link you and reblog it to the page.

Rules

We will run from March 1st to March 14th. Fics and art posted before or after will not be counted.

This is not a dark event, sorry! Some of us enjoy dark content but wanted to keep this particular event mostly non-dark. That being said, we will allow dub con in the context of mild alcohol use, power dynamics etc. Kidnapping/arranged marriage etc is fine as long as consent is given for anything sexual. Mostly we are looking to avoid non-con/violence. If you have questions, don’t be afraid to reach out to us!

All participants must be 18+, although smut is not required

No incest, including Millercest. None of the usual ‘no’s’, such as underage content apply in addition to no dark.

We have the right to exclude any fic that makes us uncomfortable. It’s our event.

However, we will NOT be excluding people for personal biases, unless it encroaches on our boundaries. I.E. If we have you blocked, please don’t try to enter the event. However, if we’ve had petty beefs or you and one of our mutuals don’t like each other, we generally will include your work. This event is to promote Triple Frontier, not about us.

LGBT themes are highly encouraged, not required.

Tom is allowed. We’re not gonna tell you not to include him if that’s what your little heart desires. However, we highly encourage that your work includes at least one of the usual 4

Leave me alone I love Arrested Development, RIP Carl Weathers.

We hope everyone has fun and this drums up more Triple Frontier fics, in which we are severely lacking!

Remember to reblog and comment to support artists!

Please come to us with any questions!

[caelpictor]

happy belated thiiird birthday to the Cloud God series!!!

i can’t believe there are already thirteen of them. i should do something special soon…

I: Cloud God - 2021, acrylic on canvas

II: Cloud God Wakes (work in progress) - 2022, acrylic on canvas

III: Cloud God Emerges - 2022, digital (procreate)

IV: Thoughts Like Lightning - 2022, digital (procreate)

V: Cloud God in Ecstasy - 2022, acrylic on canvas

VI: These Clouds Around My Head - 2022, acrylic on canvas

VII: Cloud God 3.14 - 2022, acrylic on canvas

VIII: The Fallen Cloud God - 2022, acrylic on canvas

IX: Portrait of a Cloud God - 2022, acrylic on canvas

X: Twilit Sky God (study) - 2024, digital (procreate)

XI: Cloud God in Turmoil - 2024, digital (procreate)

XII: Wash Day (sketch) - 2024, digital (procreate)

XIII: Cloud Gods (plural) /// birds of a feather - 2024, digital (procreate)

✊🏽✌🏽🐶🍦☁️🪽✨⚡👑🍀🩵💙🌀♉🦄🎨💐🌈🎮🎵

Cloud Gods is a series of paintings celebrating Blackness, queerness, and neurodivergence, and the ways in which the intersections of identity can shape our journeys through this chaotic world. The Cloud Gods are a sort of “fantasy self-portrait”—a representation of my own inner spirit. Each painting stars a gigantic, deific, nude young man with sky blue skin, silvery eyelashes, and white glowing clouds that emerge from His head like an afro-halo. He poses against bright, rainbow-colored backgrounds of swirling clouds, soaring birds, and lightning bolts that zig-zag between twinkling stars. The pieces tell the non-linear story of becoming your true self, from the very first inkling that you might be somehow “different” from the people around you, to the ultimate realization of your own unique, divine potential. The images come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and compositions, but are unified by their fantastical aesthetics, their technicolor palettes, and their themes: reaching for cosmic heights, fighting for the freedom to define your own world, and longing to find some sense of peace, love, and joy, even in the midst of a never-ending storm.

☮️🫶🏽😄,

-Kyle M. 13ryant

[pluviowriting]

In the Eye of the Beholder

So like I’m a bit late because the day is almost over but this is my entry for Garreth Weasley Fest 2024 ! My prompt was “Life drawing model (Garreth poses for a semi nude painting)”. This has been so fun and it was such a pleasure to participate.

Big big shout out to the wonderful @ellivenollivander and @cuffmeinblack for organizing all of this. You can find so much more Garreth content on @garrethweasleyfest !!!

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: explicit smut, aged up characters (this takes place a couple years post Hogwarts), lil bit of a size kink, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, Garreth’s pull out game is pretty strong, please let me know if I missed anything else

Word Count: 1.3k

Garreth Weasley x f!Non-MC!OC

Garreth had never been an insecure man. He liked his messy hair and his freckles. He thought he had nice eyes and a handsome smile. He liked the shape he was in, most of the time. He was relatively fit, his time spent farming had paid off and kept him in shape after finishing his schooling. It showed most when he went out, as he never seemed to struggle to find a witch to warm his bed.

There had been a sheet posted in the Three Broomsticks looking for volunteers to be models for some artist out in Brocburrow. His confidence in himself and a few too many drinks with Leander and Lucan, celebrating the latter’s graduation from Hogwarts, led to him signing his name and leaving his address for an owl on the sign up sheet. He watched as his already messy handwriting - made worse by the liquor flowing through his veins - disappeared on the parchment thanks to a variation of the protean charm. Not that he was sober enough to name it at this point. He returned to the table to the sound of hoots and jeers from his two fellow Gryffindors. By the time they left that night, he had forgotten all about it.

Within a week, there was an unfamiliar owl tapping at his window around lunch. He took the parchment from its outstretched leg, giving the bird a treat before it took off. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out who had written him before unrolling the parchment.

“Good morning Mr. Weasley,

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m writing in regards to the live model posting made in the Three Broomsticks. You provided your name and address as someone who may be interested in posing. The session will take place in Brocburrow next weekend. If you have no time conflicts and are still interested in having your portrait painted, I’ll meet you by the floo point in Brocburrow at noon. Please try to be punctual. If you have any further questions before next weekend, please feel free to write. You can send your owl to…”

The young woman, based on the signature at the bottom, provided her address and her name. He debated until the weekend whether he’d actually go or not. As the sun rose on Saturday morning and he realized he had less to do than he thought and it was only eight o’clock. He had plenty of time to finish his usual chores and get cleaned up before noon. He hurried through what he could, though he did curse at the chickens when they took their sweet time evacuating the coop. He was covered in sweat and dirt by the time he returned to his cottage.

By the time he popped through the floo at ten minutes before noon, he looked like a completely different man. He looked around before his eyes met those of a witch who was sitting in front of the floo.

“Mr. Weasley?”

She stood before he answered, her hand extending to shake his as she introduced herself.

“Minerva. You’re welcome to call me Minnie if you’d like.”

“You can just call me Garreth. Mr. Weasley is my dad,” he smiled as he shook her hand and his eyes raked over her much smaller figure.

The pair chatted idly as Minerva led the way to her portrait studio, admiring the leaves as they were changing due to the upcoming colder weather. As they entered the room, it was obvious where Garreth was meant to sit. He looked to the artist for guidance, since he knew he was simply there to be her muse, so to speak.

The young woman’s cheeks tinted slightly. “So, you’ll be posed in the middle there. You’ll have to remain relatively still, but it would be quite uncomfortable if we were just sitting here silently. So until I need your face, we’ll chat and I’ll try and make the face last and fast.”

Garreth chuckled and nodded at her explanation. “Pose me however you want, I’m just here to help you channel your artistic expertise.”

~~~~

When he said “however you want”, this hadn’t been what Garreth was expecting. Most of his clothes were folded on a chair and there was a black sheet draped over his lap. Minerva had very carefully adorned his red curls with a golden leafed headband that made him feel like a Greek god. Her hands had been all over his arms and his back as she posed him in a way that he assumed made the muscles in those parts the main focus. She had very gently turned his head to the side, and he allowed himself to scan over her face. He could already tell her pupils were dilated, and he heard her breath hitch when their eyes locked and green met the warmest brown he had ever seen.

He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but he blinked and suddenly he was kissing the softest lips he had ever felt. He felt fingers tangle in his hair and pull, causing a moan to bubble up from his chest.

Garreth shifted, getting the witch settled beneath him. He worked eagerly to get her bared beneath him, pulling back to admire every inch of skin he could get his eyes and lips on.

“Bloody gorgeous…” he groaned as his head dipped down and he took a pert nipple between his lips. His tongue laved over the hardened bud to the tune of the prettiest whines to grace his ears. He pulled off one with a pop before giving her other breast the same attention.

“Garreth please,” she breathed, looking down at him through hooded eyes.

It was all the encouragement he needed to reach down and coat his fingers in her arousal before bringing them to her clit. He rubbed tight circles over the bundle of nerves, unable to fight the smirk on his face.

“Do all your muses get you this wet, little Minnie?”

Her answer never came, a moan tumbling from her lips as he pushed two fingers into her. He crooned, the tone turning condescending as he spoke.

“Merlin’s beard. Squeezing my fingers so tight. Dunno how you’re gonna take my cock.”

His thumb moved to rub her clit while his fingers continued to pump into her aching heat. He took cues from her to figure out the best angle, best pace, best rhythm. Garreth Weasley was nothing if not attentive to his partners.

“That’s it Minnie. Come on. I can feel it. Cum for me baby.”

With a loud cry of his name, he felt her walls fluttering around his fingers as her back arched off the stage. He wasted no time ridding himself of what little clothing remained on his body and very slowly worked every throbbing inch into the pretty artist beneath him. He watched her face, relishing in the way her eyes widened as she felt the stretch.

“I know. You’re doing so good for me. Such a good girl.”

“‘S so…” she trailed off into a whine, her eyes rolling back as he bottomed out.

“I know. And you’re taking all of it so well.”

With her confirmation, he started to rock his hips. He started slower but gradually he got faster, and based on the way Minerva was dragging her nails down his back he had found a good speed.

His hand moved between them, once again searching to increase her pleasure. As Garreth pushed them both, he could once again feel her impending release growing closer. It didn’t take much to work them both over the edge, and Garreth painted her stomach white.

He fell beside her, his heart racing and his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“So,” she asked breathlessly, still trying to get her bearings, “are you free to pose next week?”

[proshippers-against-censorship]

I need to vent to someone who probably won't bite my head off for this opinion.

Ok, so sexual RPF frequently gets compared to AI celeb porn when people try to make an argument why it's bad. Which I don't get, because I also see nothing inherently violating in AI porn? At least, when it comes to the person whose face gets pasted on. That's not their non-consensual intimate images, because the junk on display isn't theirs. It's likely some sex worker's whose work was pirated, or possibly someone who was victim of NCII, in which case those people's consent (sexual or work-related) was violated, not the celebrity's. So why do people act as if the public figures had their nudes spread or were sex-trafficked? When has the issue of non-consensual pornography become so divorced from rights to privacy and bodily autonomy - neither of which gets violated by AI or RPF - that people's main issue with it seems to be that people are fantasizing about others without their consent? Not that it requires consent (please no one ever ask for prior consent!) At worst you'd have a defamation case if the story or pic isn't clearly marked as fake, but that goes for non-sexual RPF/AI too. Can it be used to harass and humiliate people? Sure, but so can plain speech. Granted, making an AI gif of a heavily pregnant Elon Musk cuddling up to Trump (yes, this exists) gets the point across more effectively than just saying "Musk needs to stop riding Trump's dick", but that's the purpose of art. No social media owners were mpregnated in the making of that gif. Sometimes art is meant to be offensive to one person specifically, but as long as they weren't forced to look at it and it's not a call to action, it's still fine imo.

This. This. This. This.

Just because you photoshopped / generated a photo of a celebrity's dick doesn't mean you've actually seen their dick.

[pinknumber5]

Come help start the community!

All my followers are welcome. Just follow the link!

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 27

what's playing: I'm Not in Love by 10cc

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4k

IMPORTANT a/n: Can you tell I'm out of a 5 month long depressive episode? LOL. Feeling motivative and creative. See you soon. Ask me questions!

December 1989

“So you don’t want to have sex anymore?” 

You pull your skirt up your legs, zipping it and spinning it back in place. You shoot a glance over your shoulder at the man nude on his headboard-less bed with a face of disgust. “No. I’m okay with having sex, I’m just like not looking to make you breakfast and prance around your living room in your shirts or whatever.” You shrug, pulling on your blouse and tiptoeing to your kitten heels. 

He scoffs, “That's what all women say, they usually mean the complete opposite. I’m not stupid Andrea.” 

You giggle, “I am not all women. I’m just not interested in a relationship, we both made that clear when we started fucking.” Back in October when he placed his large hand on the open belly of your cowgirl costume and it was the right amount of warmth at the right time. Your co-worker Jaya shot you a thumbs up from across the club and you stumbled out onto the brisk streets of Soho. “You never seemed to be interested in me being your girlfriend until this conversation.”

Christian stands to his feet, nude and you’re getting that clarity you get after having sex with a man that isn’t–well. You scurry towards your discarded coat on his lazy boy. You have got to stop fucking men in finance, their homes are like poorly decorated castles. Maybe he does need a damn girlfriend. “You fucking city girls and your backwards ways of thinking. You’ll never have the life you want with this attitude.”

You shoot him a glance and cackle loudly. “Please, I lived in Texas most of my life there is no city girl in me. I am just a girl who knows what she wants, you’ll find us anywhere you go.” You sling your purse over your shoulder, you know your toes are going to freeze off on your way to the subway. You’re not fully acclimated to the bitter cold of New York City yet but you make it work.

You made the move abruptly after learning they were cutting the pay of non-tenured teachers fifteen percent. The second you found out your colleague Jaya Sandros was taking a recertification exam to teach in New York City, you packed up your birds and made the big move. Of course your mother cried on the phone asking if it was her coldness that made you seek the cold elsewhere but truthfully it had nothing to do with her. You were nearly over being angry with your mother, you knew that she was only growing older and you might die if you continued to be so angry and sad all the time. 

You also knew that the decision to move to New Orleans was a Javier-adjacent decision which is what you called those things these days. A decision made because it reminded you of him. And although you weren't truly over him you decided that it was time to strip yourselves of things that reminded you of the past. 

When the cold approached you the very first time just a month ago you sat on your couch with your birds in tears. You wanted to call him so badly this thanksgiving. You wanted to tell him that you forgive him, that you aren’t angry anymore, that you understand the betrayal he’s gone through. Thank god for your therapist. You knew he probably won't be celebrating Thanksgiving in Colombia but you hoped he ate something good, you hoped he wasn’t alone like you were. 

Although you weren’t as alone as you were in New Orleans.

Life was more vibrant in New York. You had a solid group of friends, a night life, a work life and a sex life. You smiled nearly everyday, hosted wine nights and got your nails done. 

“You don’t know what you want Andrea. You told me the second time we had sex that this is your fourth state in 6 years!”

You look at him once more and fight the urge to laugh again. “Bye Chris. Lose my number.” You say as you slam the door behind you and wobble down the steps of his brownstone. 

“So you broke up?” Jaya leans over the break room table with her Best Teacher Ever mug. She taught Chemistry three periods a day, Environmental twice and tutored earth science on the weekends. 

“I guess? I mean he was never my boyfriend. The sex was mediocre but you know I got what I wanted. When did men become such softies?” 

Jaya giggles, “The eighties are coming to an end. Maybe we’ve got to start dating older.” The two of you laugh and clink your mugs. Forty more minutes of peace before your ninth grade US History course, those kids were rowdy. 

“Maybe, ugh– he did that thing when he ate me out. Like he’d look up at me and be like, is this good? Just ew.” You cringe, shaking your head. Jaya does just the same. 

“Like god we’re pushing thirty, if you have to ask me if your head is good just kill me.” She places her mug down and reaches in her bag for another packet of sugar. You shoot her a glance, and she flips you off. She might be the biggest sugar addict you know. Every night out ends with her dragging you to the twenty-four hour bakery around the block from your house. “My ex was absolutely terrible at it. He was thirty. My boyfriend now though… It’s like he was put on this earth for it.”

You nod and you can't help it. “Javier was the same. Amazing at it, and he’d never complain. Unfortunately he was good at everything, sometimes I’d be like, Who the fuck taught you all of this. Then I’d get jealous because it was all from years of practice. Stupid.” Eyes glancing at your lap. Even if he’s over you and is okay with never seeing you again, you would pathetically still ask for just one more night. Jaya knew all the details, in some ways she was your best friend–well, she is your best friend. You spend every weekend together if she isn’t taking the metro-north to see her short-distance boyfriend who lives in Yonkers. She understands and doesn’t make you feel bad when you talk about him because she does just the same. Her shitty ex boyfriend Henry Donovan was the topic of discussion all the time. You couldn’t believe she stayed with that freak for seven years. Fuck it, you lean over in a whisper. “One night like 3 months ago, I was so horny I almost called him. Like just wanted to call and be like, hey, I know we left on the worst terms ever but let me hear your voice so I can touch myself. I was that desperate.” 

Jaya’s eyes widened and her grin grew ear to ear. The two of you had gotten so close nearly no dirty confession was off the table. “That's so hot. Do you think he’d do it?” 

You smirk, “Yeah probably. I mean I don’t think he would be able to resist. Even if he moved on or whatever-”

“He hasn’t but continued. No man would be able to.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not like some sex goddess-” Jaya makes a loud buzzer noise. “But! He worshiped me, in more ways than one so…” You voice fades and your head goes to that place that makes your stomach pit and ruins your day. When you realize he isn’t waiting for you, when you realize he’s so far. When you realize how deeply he was hurt by Lorraine. How his decision to never see you again hurt you. “Yeah, it was always good.”

Jaya allowed for some silence. Nodding and sipping her coffee. “Well, maybe it was so good because you two loved each other so much. Randy and I tried anal last month and it was great! He was so caring and gentle and-”

“What!?” Your eyes popped and Jaya waved a hand in your face. 

“Oh please don’t act like you’ve never tried it. Hearing your sex stories with Javier–”

“Lower your voice, I mean once he ate me–”

“See!” She whisper yelled. “All young modern metropolitan women try anal.” 

Your face turned bright red and your face dropped to your hands in a giggle.

Summer 1986

When Javier left your room the next morning you decided you needed a break from being yourself. You sat at the headboard of your bed and attempted to console yourself the way you did as a child. You missed him already, missed the way he held your head when you were sad. You even rubbed the bee earrings in your ear a few times, cried more and shut your eyes. 

You have to go away. Be alone, move somewhere far. You wouldn’t be able to bear encountering him in town once in a while, you couldn’t. Despite the sadistic mentality you’ve developed with your own mind and body, you couldn’t do that.

 It was 3 pm when you finally left your room. Eyes swollen from the tears you let out once he snuck away. You make your presence known with dragging feet. Your baby sister in her play pen, gnawing at her fist with puff snacks. Your mother was at her designated chair at the counter. Taking notes in her blue little financing book, preformative glasses low on her bridge. She takes one look at you and tenses with a frown. You see it then, in her eyes. Her urge to ask you a question you don’t want to answer. You decided that maybe you should never speak to anyone ever again.

 “Why did Javier leave your room this morning?” She places her pen down with a click. You don’t feel the stomach turning anxiety you would have once felt at a question like this. None of it mattered anymore. So you shrugged and opened the fridge.

“Javier was my boyfriend. We broke up last night.” You deadpan, silencing the room. There goes your big moment. All the hiding and whispers, maybe this was the only way to tell her. You served yourself a bowl of cereal. You look back at your mother and her lips were drawn in a small line, her eyes concerned. 

“But he’s getting married to Lorraine…”

You almost want to laugh, of course. “So you knew, nice.” You open the cabinet taking a spoon and pull out the stool with a tug of your socked foot, sitting across from her.

“I-Mrs. Smithfield called me with the news yesterday, she asked if she could use the things I bought for Frankies wedding. Did Javier cheat on you–?”

Spoon swirling the milk turned pink. You really couldn’t believe you were having this conversation. You couldnt believe your mother was planning your ex-boyfriend's wedding. You can’t believe it's over. You couldn’t believe you were cried out. You never want to see him again, you couldn't do that to yourself. “No. She’s apparently been pregnant since before we started dating so… I don’t really want to explain myself any more. I’m going to take some time alone for a while. I’ll be moving out by the way, so don’t worry about that anymore.”

Your mother frowned, “You know, I didn’t really mean it when I asked you to leave. I was just so angry with the fact that you wanted to see your father.”

You felt like an exposed nerve, like screaming and shattering your bowl. Feeling the urge to regress to your habits you formed once Javier left you the first time. Your mother, your most sensitive trigger, pushing your buttons. You hold your breath, counting to ten before you speak. “I want access to my trust. I’m leaving Texas, I want to start over.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yes. I’ll go to the wedding, I know you're wondering. But after that I want to be on the road.” You know you have to be there. You have to see it happen, maybe it’ll force you to move on. You always found strange ways of harming yourself. Being destructive in your own little way. Suddenly you aren’t hungry anymore. You stand from the stool, giving your mother one last glance. “I’ll be in the room if you need me.”

You rarely leave the place for four days. You hear people come in and out of the house. 

On Tuesday you swear you hear Mr. Smithfield’s voice. You know it’s him because once you look out your window you see your mother holding table cloth and folding chairs.  You lay back in bed and try to sleep.

By wednesday no one had come to visit you. It's not like you had many people but Javi. You wonder if he has touched her belly yet, if he’ll rub those creams on it so that she doesn’t stretch. If his eyes will go tender whispering to his little baby. If that love he feels for his baby will turn into real love for Lorraine herself. Doing the most selfless act of motherhood. 

Thursday your bedroom door is opened by Genie. It’s like 1980 all over again. This time she’s in a loose dress, her belly barely visible in the material. She tiptoes over your piles of clothes you’ve folded in preparation to leave. Just six days before she was sitting on your bed waiting to become your sister in law. Now she approaches you slowly like you're made of glass. You smile upon her arrival but she can’t seem to give you one back. She crosses her arms and scans the room. Seeing that you have picked apart the place to head on the road.

“So you’re leaving?” She sounds cold and you shrug. 

“Yes.”

“Have you considered me or your brother in this decision?” She’s upset with you. You were upset with everything so you suppose you’re even. 

“I can’t be here anymore.”

Genie sighs, “I would like to have heard it from you and not a frantic visit from your mother. Which by the way was very off guard, we were having sex when she came pounding on the door.” 

You snicker, fidgeting with the loose thread at the hem of your sleep shorts. “I was going to visit the two of you. I just didn’t– I don’t have it in me to tell Frankie. To make him hate me or-or hate Javier. I just wanted to be alone for a bit.”

“Well he knows now! He isn’t even mad, he’s just sad for the both of you. He’s really sad for you Andrea. He loves you so much.”

Your eyes dropped to your lap and your chin began to quiver because strangely you miss him too. “He’s not mad that we lied to him?”

“No. He isn’t. He knows he was a hard ass about you and Javi. He knew he wuld have to get over it eventually but he didn’t want this to the be the circumstances. He wasn’t even given the opportunity to be all protective.” She shrugs, sitting down on your bed. Her hand covers yours, forcing you to quit fidgeting. “He also really dislikes Lorraine so he was more preoccupied that she’ll be around us forever.”

You laugh through tears this time. Your brother always made a face when she was mentioned. Especially when Genie suggested that she be invited to the wedding. 

She cheated on my absolute stud of a best friend. I’ll never like that girl. 

You sigh and lean your head against Genie. For a while the two of you are nothing but two sisters missing each other before you’re gone. Sharing years together, growing up and moving on was a part of it all. You know she isn’t angry, you know she loves you too much to watch you go, again. 

“I think the universe has been telling me and Javier to not be together for a long time but we have been too stubborn to care.”

She sucks her teeth and you feel her head shake. “Nah. I just think the time has always been wrong. The circumstances too. If this whole pregnancy thing didn’t happen he’d still be on a plane in a few months to a whole other country. You’d be left just as broken.”

“We had a plan.”

“Did you?”

You exhale audibly, “No–not really.” 

“I don’t know…you’ll find each other somehow. Maybe she’ll cheat on the man again.” She jokes and you giggle alongside her. This was all fucked and all you could do is laugh. “I’m sorry for seeming so angry when I came in. You deserve to be on your own, find yourself out of this fucking town.”

“I’ll visit. I’ll be back for the labor, trust me.”

“Yeah bitch you better!”

“I’ll be there anytime you need me.”

“Pfft, unless you move to like fucking New York.”

“Oh god never. Don’t think I can keep up. I was thinking about Louisiana. Far enough to know no one, close enough to drive if needed.” 

“Good, that would be great for you. When do you think you’re leaving?”

“After the wedding, like maybe the next day.”

“Why not before, say fuck it and just rip the bandaid.”

You frown, “Well I’m going to the wedding obviously.”

Genie completely parts her body from your own and stares at you all confused.

“Why in the world would you go watch your ex boyfriend get married?”

You sit up straight, your eyes darting to the picture on New Year’s 1980.

 “Because everyone will be there, because he’s my best friend, because maybe if I see it, it'll be real.”

“Oh, hello.” Javier moves out of the way of his front door and allows Lorraine in. She rubs her stomach and walks straight to his bedroom. Javier furrows his brows and looks around the house in confusion before following her. “Is everything okay?”

 His air conditioning is blasting and she exhales. Ripping off her shoes and laying in his bed and it all feels so wrong. He only spoke to her a few times over the phone since the day he found out. The conversations mostly contained plans of what their lives would look like. He had nodded off and agreed to it all because truly he wasn’t sure if he was in his own body. He agreed to asking for a family extension until after she gave birth. So that it gave her more time to be supported with their child before he leaves for Colombia. He agreed to look at rentals in the area. He agreed and agreed. 

He felt like himself a few nights ago when he told Chucho that it was you that he had been seeing. His father frowned so deeply Javier feared this would be the first time ever he would raise a hand to him. If he had he wouldn’t fight it, he would have asked for more. Maybe then he’ll feel truly punished for it all. Instead Don Chucho dropped his head. That was when he told him that he spoke to Melissa and she said you were leaving- moving away. That's when Javier felt like himself again. Chucho rubbed his back while he cried into the crook of his arm. 

Nothing could change his reality. So there she was, his ex-girlfriend, soon to be wife, in his bed. “The air isn’t working in my room. And I weirdly feel so… pregnant. I’m so glad I’ll be further along when it’s cooler out. God, my back hurts.”

Javier stood at the door, unsure on how to be–any help at all. “When will it be fixed?”

She throws her arm over her forehead and exhales. “Huh. Monday probably, could I stay here? It just isn’t good-”

“For the baby. Yeah of course. Do you need anything or-”

“Will you come here?” She lifts her arm to look at him. He obeys despite all of it feeling wrong. Javier sits at the foot of the bed. “Are you nervous?”

He furrows his brow and tilts his head, before realizing what she’s asking. “I’m just trying to catch up with my brain. I’m doubting that we will be good parents, I mean I know that you’ll be a great mother, and maybe I can be a good father but me and you…we’re explosive and incompatible. We never worked, I’m afraid all of this would be damaging for the-our baby.”

Javier is himself for that moment.

She sighs and flips her body over and away from him. Obviously annoyed with him being reasonable. There's some silence and then sniffling. Javier’s brows shoot up, his chest hurting. What man is immune to a woman's tears?

“Sorry. I’m just hormonal. Conversations like this just stress me and the baby out.”

He feels a panic climb up his throat and there he is at her aid. Afraid to hurt someone so delicate, he’s done enough of that. He rubs her back in slow motions while she cries and he’s feeling a guilt that's all consuming. “Hey… I’m sorry. I don't want to stress the two of you out. Let's… be angry at me tomorrow.”

She nods, wiping her tears. 

“Can we get a slurpee? It’ll make me feel better.” She whines and Javier feels like a dick for being a bit annoyed. Shouldn’t fathers feel more sincere, biologically? He can't seem to find the connection yet but he just blames it on the circumstance. 

But he nods against her shoulder anyway and they head to the grocery store in an act too domestic to swallow just yet.

In the hours you spent walking around town to get some sort of fresh air your walkman became ridiculously handy. The Original Soundtrack by 10cc was your choice this time. In a tank top and shorts like always you made your way through town with very few hellos from locals, it almost feels like they all knew you were depressed. You decided you needed air after Genie left. The two of you stayed talking until she jumped to her feet realizing she had an appointment in her salon at 4:30 and it was 4. You accepted her apologies and hugged. 

You found yourself slipping on your sneakers at 6 pm, when the sun was still high yet threatening to set. You wanted to be outside when it did. Sit somewhere and just listen to the bullfrogs and flies. Appreciate the sounds of home a few more times. You let your hair down just because around this time there's the slightest imitation of a breeze.

You walk down the hill, passing the small path that leads to your lake. Set sights on the bench you and Frankie ate ice cream at. Ice Cream from the shop that Genie’s family ran. You almost wish you took your bike with you but when you were reminded of its existence it was too late to go back. You stopped in at your mother's boutique, knowing she was home today. Greeting the seventeen year old girl who managed the place on Thursday nights. 

Right when a drop of sweat trickled low on your back you decided to make a left at the end of mainstreet and trek the sidewalk-less road that led to the only 7/11 in a 20 mile radius. It was bigger than most 7/11’s you’ve been to. Acted as a grocery store for a lot of truckers that found themselves in Laredo.  With your music on blast, you barely hear the bell chimes when you walk in.

I’m Not In Love by 10cc crowding your ears while you wave at the cashier. Slowly walking down each aisle, figuring whether you had a sweet tooth or could do for some lays chips. You shift your weight from foot to foot, along with the song. Finding freedom and peace in solitude. You decide on a kit-kat bar. You grab the share size and walk out to the freezers, opening the door just to feel some cool air for a second. You shut your eyes for a moment before grabbing a water.

As you close the door your view is clear. Lorraine and Javier walking toward the slurpee machine, his hand on her lower back. It drops when she begins to make her own drink with her back facing you. He turns, scratching the back of his neck and if you just move he will never see you. But he looks so different, sullen and tired.

And you can’t help but stare. 

His eyes finally meet yours and both of yours simultaneously widen and furrow. His furrowing and yours widening. Being caught. He looks at you tenderly, like he’s urging to take a step forward, urging to say hello. 

Your eyes cast to the floor and you pretend you have not seen him at all.

[crumblepuppy]

in celebration of 100+ followers, i decided that i would finally make an introduction post!!

— [♡] ; PLEASE NOTE

minors DNI,, this is a KINK blog!!

also note that this blog focuses on mlm relationships, as i am in one. non-mlm based blogs are more than welcome to interact, but please keep that in mind when liking and reblogging! i don't mind non-mlm tags or replies on my posts :)

info

♡ please call me crumb!

♡ 20

♡ he/him ftm mlm

♡ submissive puppy boy :3

♡ taken by the best owner ever!! (@crumbledaddy)

kinks

i definitely can't list all of them,, but here's the ones that come to mind!

♡ petplay (puppy) ♡ daddy kink ♡ light cnc

♡ humiliation/degradation ♡ bondage/restraints ♡ edging/orgasm control/denial/overstimulation

♡ praise ♡ size difference ♡ teasing/begging

♡ leashing/collaring ♡ marking & spanking ♡ groping

♡ body writing ♡ cock warming ♡ rough sex/play

♡ breeding ♡ forced submission ♡ name calling

they're all pretty light xD

boundaries

X do not flirt with me X do not refer to me with any pet names. i am crumb

X do not send me romantic/sexual asks or dms X do not send me nudes

X do not ask me to send you anything personal about myself (ie. pictures, videos, information)

if you're unsure of anything, just send me a message asking about something and i'll reply!

thanks for sticking around! i hope this helped you get to know me better :3 feel free to dm me if you wanna chat or be friends!! :D

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 8🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 8 "Fracas at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival"

Timestamp: 25:30

Video Length: 4min. & 32sec.

Gorgug and his parents talk about the Frostyfaire Folk Festival (Pt. 1 | ‣Pt. 2)

Brennan: "You start getting texts from friends that there's stuff happening over at Mordred."

Gorgug: "Adaine threw up?" 😂

Brennan: "What the hell? As you're heading out, by the way, Wilma says,"

Wilma: "Gorgug, would you mind? There's some stuff under the tarps that we'd love to move into the basement."

Brennan: "You see Digby goes,"

Digby: "Wilma, we'll move that stuff. That's okay."

Brennan: "You see he says,"

Digby: "We just, you know, just to let you know, bud, you know, you were gone for a couple months, and we had some friends over while you were gone."

Emily: *whispers* "Swingers." 😭✋

Ally: *laughs* 😂💀

Digby: "For a while, over the summer. And we were working on some projects, and we had some gear."

Emily: *whispers* "Swingers." 😭💀

Digby: "And we had some gear around the tree."

Siobhan: "Sex swing."

Digby: "And so- But we're gonna have a lot of guests and strangers and people around, so we're just gonna throw all that in the cellar. I just want you to know that you're okay to invite frie- we're not gonna embarrass you, we're not gonna, you know, put you in a weird... But just, there's some gizmos and gadgeroos that gotta get put in the ol' basement-eroonie."

Gorgug: "But you guys got that, right?"

Digby: "Yeah, we're gonna take- yeah"

Gorgug: "I don't have to go... I don't have to help with that, right?"

(BRENNAN'S SMILE HERE! 😭✋)

Brennan: "You see Wilma says,"

Wilma: *shakes head* "And I shouldn't have asked. I was thinking- I'm just-"

Gorgug: "Are they here?" 😭✋

Wilma: "I'm just stressed."

Gorgug: "Are those friends gonna be at this festival?"

(THE PAUSE HERE! 😭✋)

Wilma: "There's gonna... I wanna say-"

Gorgug: "What the **** are we doing?" 😭✋

Wilma: "No! No, no!" 😭✋

Brennan: "You see he goes,"

Gorgug: "Sorry, I just-"

Gorbag: "Whoa, whoa!"

Brennan: "And you see Gorbag says,"

Gorbag: "Gorgug, it's not a weird- look-"

Zac: "Gorgug's eyes are darting between my biological parents and-"

Brennan: "Biological parents and your... You see Gorbag goes,"

Gorbag: "Look, all the stuff they're talking about, that's not what the festival is about. Look, the festival celebrates bodies, you know? There's a nudity tent, but that's not sexual. That's just about admiring each other."

Gorgug: "So I'm just, like, having to study a lot lately." 😭😭

(😭✋ Brennan's laughter here!!! 😭✋)

Gorgug: "And I'm not sure that I'm equipped for this conversation right now."

Digby: "Listen, bud, you don't have to go in the nudity tent."

Gorgug: "I know! I know I don't!"

Digby: "Okay, but again, it's non-sexual. It's just about a place to be free-"

Gorgug: "There's just a tent where people are nude."

Digby: *shrugs* 😭✋

Gorgug: "Just sitting in a hot tent together."

Digby: "Well, the music's playing and it's just a place to fe-... You know, we live in a pretty stifling society, in a lot of ways, and there's nothing-"

Gorgug: "And they feel free in a big tent."

Digby: "Yeah, because we wanna be cognizant of people's boundaries."

Gorgug: "Okay."

Digby: "But, you know, clothing... I didn't sign a contract when I was born saying I'd wear clothes forever. There's nothing wrong with a body. What does any one of us have that no one's ever seen before?"

Gorgug: "That's true. I guess I just didn't really think that much about what this festival was."

Digby: "It's great. Music's great." 😭😭

Gorgug: "So, I guess my friends are coming, too."

Brennan: "As they sort of talk about all that, you get ready to head out. Give me a Tinkers' Tools check on your way out."

Zac: *blows on his dice* 😭✋

Lou: "There it is." 😭✋

Ally: "Get the bad ones out." 😭✋

Lou: "Get the bad ones out." 😭✋

Emily: "Oh, that was close to a 20." 😭😭

Zac: "21."

Emily: "This dice has been performing."

Brennan: "I think as you're walking out, thinking about that different approach, you're looking at all the junk tied up under different tarps and stuff in the yard. I think you just come to a moment of looking at some of the machinery and thinking about Henry, your artificer teacher, talking about how he's never seen anyone work at a problem before as hard as you are working and not solve it. And I think you're thinking about the disparity between rage and concentration and just looking at some machinery on your way out, and there's some little glimmer of an edge of inspiration in your mind, almost something you could catch onto, after this first semester of how well everything's been working. And you see circuitry carrying electricity through the tree. And just for a moment, see that current like a pulse, and think about your own pulse as you're raging. There's a moment where you see some kind of synchronicity there, and then it goes away and the day continues."

Zac: "Just writes down a little note to himself and crumples it up with rage, but then straightens it out and puts it in his pocket." 🥺🥺

Brennan: "Hell yeah."

[dailyanarchistposts]

Author: CrimethInc. Topic: technology

“The future is already here,” Cyberpunk pioneer William Gibson once said; “it’s just not very evenly distributed.” Over the intervening decades, many people have repurposed that quote to suit their needs. Today, in that tradition, we might refine it thus: War is already here—it’s just not very evenly distributed.

Never again will the battlefield be just state versus state; it hasn’t been for some time. Nor are we seeing simple conflicts that pit a state versus a unitary insurgent that aspires to statehood. Today’s wars feature belligerents of all shapes and sizes: states (allied and non-allied), religious zealots (with or without a state), local and expatriate insurgents, loyalists to former or failing or neighboring regimes, individuals with a political mission or personal agenda, and agents of chaos who benefit from the instability of war itself. Anyone or any group of any size can go to war.

The increased accessibility of the technology of disruption and war[1] means the barrier to entry is getting lower all the time. The structure of future wars will sometimes feel familiar, as men with guns murder children and bombs level entire neighborhoods—but it will take new forms, too. Combatants will manipulate markets and devalue currencies. Websites will be subject to DDoS attacks and disabling—both by adversaries and by ruling governments. Infrastructure and services like hospitals, banks, transit systems, and HVAC systems will all be vulnerable to attacks and interruptions.

In this chaotic world, in which new and increasing threats ceaselessly menace our freedom, technology has become an essential battlefield. Here at the CrimethInc. technology desk, we will intervene in the discourse and distribution of technological know-how in hopes of enabling readers like you to defend and expand your autonomy. Let’s take a glance at the terrain.

Privacy

The NSA listens to, reads, and records everything that happens on the internet.

Amazon, Google, and Apple are always listening[2] and sending some amount[3] of what they hear back to their corporate data centers[4]. Cops want that data. Uber, Lyft, Waze, Tesla, Apple, Google, and Facebook know your whereabouts and your movements all of the time. Employees spy on users.

Police[5] want access to the contents of your phone, computer, and social media accounts—whether you’re a suspected criminal, a dissident on a watch list, or an ex-wife.

The business model of most tech companies is surveillance capitalism. Companies learn everything possible about you when you use their free app or website, then sell your data to governments, police, and advertisers. There’s even a company named Palantir, after the crystal ball in The Lord of the Rings that the wizard Saruman used to gaze upon Mordor—through which Mordor gazed into Saruman and corrupted him.[6] Nietzsche’s famous quote, “When you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you,” now sounds like a double transcription error: surely he didn’t mean abyss, but app.

Security

Self-replicating malware spreads across Internet of Things (IoT) devices like “smart” light bulbs and nanny cams, conscripting them into massive botnets. The people who remotely control the malware then use these light bulbs and security cameras to launch debilitating DDoS[7] attacks against DNS providers, reporters, and entire countries.

Hackers use ransomware to hold colleges, hospitals, and transit systems hostage. Everything leaks, from nude photos on celebrities’ phones to the emails of US political parties.

Capital

Eight billionaires combined own as much wealth as the poorest 50% of the world’s population. Four of those eight billionaires are tech company founders.[8] Recently, the President of the United States gathered a group of executives to increase collaboration between the tech industry and the government.[9]

The tech industry in general, and the Silicon Valley in particular, has a disproportionately large cultural influence. The tech industry is fundamentally tied to liberalism and therefore to capitalism. Even the most left-leaning technologists aren’t interested in addressing the drawbacks of the social order that has concentrated so much power in their hands.[10]

War

Nation states are already engaging in cyber warfare. Someone somewhere[11] has been learning how to take down the internet.

Tech companies are best positioned to create a registry of Muslims and other targeted groups. Even if George W. Bush and Barack Obama hadn’t already created such lists and deported millions of people, if Donald Trump (or any president) wanted to create a registry for roundups and deportations, all he’d have to do is go to Facebook. Facebook knows everything about you.

The Obama administration built the largest surveillance infrastructure ever—Donald Trump’s administration just inherited it. Liberal democracies and fascist autocracies share the same love affair with surveillance. As liberalism collapses, the rise of autocracy coincides with the greatest technical capacity for spying in history, with the least cost or effort. It’s a perfect storm.

This brief overview doesn’t even mention artificial intelligence (AI), machine learning, virtual reality (VR), augmented reality (AR), robots, the venture capital system, or tech billionaires who think they can live forever with transfusions of the blood of young people.

Here at the tech desk, we’ll examine technology and its effects from an anarchist perspective. We’ll publish accessible guides and overviews on topics like encryption, operational security, and how to strengthen your defenses for everyday life and street battles. We’ll zoom out to explore the relation between technology, the state, and capitalism—and a whole lot more. Stay tuned.

Footnotes

[1] A surplus of AK-47s. Tanks left behind by U.S. military. Malware infected networked computer transformed into DDoS botnets. Off the shelf ready to execute scripts to attack servers.

[2] Amazon Echo / Alexa. Google with Google Home. Apple with Siri. Hey Siri, start playing music.

[3] What, how much, stored for how long, and accessible by whom are all unknown to the people using those services.

[4] Unless you are a very large company, “data center” means someone else’s computer sitting in someone else’s building.

[5] Local beat cops and police chiefs, TSA, Border Patrol, FBI… all the fuckers.

[6] Expect to read more about Palantir and others in a forthcoming article about surveillance capitalism.

[7] Distributed Denial of Service. More on this in a later article, as well.

[8] Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Ellison. In fact, if you count Michael Bloomberg as a technology company, that makes five.

[9] In attendance: Eric Trump. Brad Smith, Microsoft president and chief legal officer. Jeff Bezos, Amazon founder and CEO. Larry Page, Google founder and Alphabet CEO. Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook COO. Mike Pence. Donald Trump. Peter Thiel, venture capitalist. Tim Cook, Apple CEO. Safra Catz, Oracle CEO. Elon Musk, Tesla CEO. Gary Cohn, Goldman Sachs president and Trump’s chief economic adviser. Wilbur Ross, Trump’s commerce secretary pick. Stephen Miller, senior policy adviser. Satya Nadella, Microsoft CEO. Ginni Rometty, IBM CEO. Chuck Robbins, Cisco CEO. Jared Kushner, investor and Trump’s son-in-law. Reince Priebus, chairman of the Republican National Committee and White House chief of staff. Steve Bannon, chief strategist to Trump. Eric Schmidt, Alphabet president. Alex Karp, Palantir CEO. Brian Krzanich, Intel CEO.

[10] We’ll explore this more in a later article about “The California Ideology.”

[11] Probably a state-level actor such as Russia or China.