#people seemed interested so I made it an open!

[darlingsblackbook]

Between the Lines

Gojo Satoru x Awkward!Reader

Summary : As the new teacher’s assistant at Jujutsu High, Y/N is used to being invisible—quiet, awkward, always on the outside looking in. She tells herself she prefers it that way, but when Gojo Satoru, the school’s most infuriatingly nosy teacher, starts noticing the cracks in her carefully built walls, she finds it harder to hide. He’s loud, he’s persistent, and worst of all… he might just see right through her.

Warnings : Shy!Reader, Awkward!Reader, Introvert!Reader, Lonely!Reader

♡♡♡

I had never been good at introductions.

Or first impressions. Or second impressions.

Or… people in general.

So when the principal of Jujutsu High offered me a job as a teaching assistant, I accepted before I could talk myself out of it. It was logical—stable work, a chance to put my skills to use—but now, standing in front of the classroom door, I was starting to question every decision that led me here.

The job itself wasn’t the problem. It was the social part. The talking. The being around others.

The inevitable awkwardness.

Here I am, standing awkwardly outside the door of Gojo Satoru’s classroom, a bundle of nerves in my stomach.

I have never met him before. Only heard of him in passing. The strongest sorcerer alive. An eccentric man, a little ridiculous but undeniably powerful. I have no idea what to expect, and that made me even more anxious.

I exhaled sharply and knocked before I could hesitate any longer.

“Come iiinnn~”

The voice was playful, stretching the words like taffy. I hesitated for a second before pushing the door open.

The room was not empty. Three students sat at their desks, heads turning as I entered. One of them—a boy with pink hair and a bright, open grin—tilted his head curiously. Another, dark-haired with sharp features, barely reacted. The last, a girl with fiery eyes, scrutinized me with clear interest.

And then, there was him.

Gojo Satoru.

He was taller than I expected, his dark blue uniform neat but his posture anything but. White hair, messy but somehow intentional and a blindfold shielding his eyes. He was the kind of person who took up space without any effort, like the air itself made room for him.

“Oh? A new face.” A grin stretched across his face. "And who might you be?"

I swallowed and tightened my grip on my bag. “Um. I’m Y/N. The principal assigned me as your new teaching assistant.”

For a moment, there was a silence. Then, Gojo’s smile widened. “Ohhh, so you’re the poor soul stuck with me?”

I- I was not so sure how to respond to that.

“I… guess?”

The pink-haired boy snickered. “Welcome to the chaos, sensei.”

Gojo clapped his hands. “Right! Introductions. These little troublemakers are my students. That’s Itadori Yuji—”

“Yo!”

“—Fushiguro Megumi—”

A silent nod.

“—and Kugisaki Nobara.”

The girl flipped her hair. “Good luck surviving Gojo-sensei.”

I gave a small, uncertain nod with an unsure smile. “Thanks…?”

Gojo tilted his head. “So, Y/N! Tell us about yourself.”

Oh no.

Not this question. Anything but this question.

My mind blanked immediately.

I was supposed to say something here. Something normal. Something that would make me seem approachable. But nothing came.

“There’s not much to say,” I finally muttered.

Gojo leaned forward on his desk, grinning. “Come on, there’s gotta be something. A hobby? Fun fact? Favorite food? Deepest, darkest secret?”

I swallowed. I hated questions like this. I never knew how to answer.

My hands curled around the strap of my bag. “I..I mean I like...reading, I don’t know.”

For a second, silence. A horrible, suffocating pause.

Then—

Gojo sighed dramatically. “A mystery woman, huh? Fine, fine, we’ll learn your secrets eventually.”

Something in me tensed at that idea.

But Gojo spared me and did not press. He just stretched lazily and turned back to his students.

I exhaled, shoulders loosening.

That could have gone a lot worse.

°•♡•°

The first few days passed in a blur.

I kept to my work, avoiding unnecessary interactions. The job itself was easy—assisting with lessons, helping with training schedules, sorting paperwork. It was everything outside of that that I struggled with.

Small talk. Social cues. Knowing when to speak and when to stay silent.

I avoided the break room, ate lunch alone, kept my head down. It wasn’t new—I had always been like this. And I had always told myself I didn’t mind.

But Gojo made it difficult to go unnoticed.

He was everywhere. Loud, teasing, impossible to ignore. He had a habit of appearing at the worst moments—leaning over my desk when I was trying to work, suddenly materializing beside me when I was lost in thought.

And he noticed things.

A lot of things.

“Hey,” he said one afternoon. “Do you always stand like that?”

I blinked up at him. “Like what?”

He waved a hand vaguely. “All stiff. Like you’re bracing for impact.”

I immediately stiffened more. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Gojo hummed. “You’re always tense. And quiet. Do I scare you?”

I frowned, caught off guard. “What? No.” I laughed awkwardly.

He gasped, hand over his chest. “So you just don’t like me?”

“That’s not—” I stopped, exhaling. “I just… I don’t talk much.”

Gojo tilted his head, as if considering something.

For a second, I thought he might press further. Ask questions I didn’t know how to answer.

But then he just grinned. “Don’t worry. You’ll warm up to me eventually.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

But later, when I caught him watching me with something thoughtful behind his blindfold, I realized—

He wasn’t sure about me either.

°•♡•°

Even more days passed, blending into each other like ink bleeding into paper.

I kept my head down, did my work, and kept to myself. It was easy, really. No one expected much from me beyond my job. The students were polite, Gojo was… Gojo, and the rest of the staff had their own responsibilities. I did what was required, answered when spoken to, and let conversations pass over me like waves washing over a stone.

And yet…

Something gnawed at me.

I noticed things. I always had.

Like the way Itadori and Kugisaki bickered over lunch, their insults sharp but affectionate. The way Fushiguro sighed, exasperated but always there, always included. The way they trained together, argued together, shared jokes that only made sense to them.

They belonged.

Even the staff, as different as they were, had their own connections. Yaga’s gruff lectures, Shoko’s dry humor, Gojo’s infuriating yet oddly natural way of slipping into conversations like he had always been part of them.

Everywhere I looked, people had someone.

I didn’t even have a past friendship to reminisce about. No old friend I had lost touch with. No warm memories of sleepovers, of whispered secrets at midnight, of laughing so hard my stomach hurt.

I had nothing.

It wasn’t that I had never wanted friends. I had wanted them desperately. But there had always been something wrong with me—something that made people drift away before they ever truly got close.

Maybe I was too quiet.

Maybe I was too awkward.

Maybe I was just… forgettable.

Even now, at 22, I felt like I had already wasted my entire life away.

Everyone else had stories. Experiences. Things they could look back on with fondness or even regret.

I had empty days and silence.

I never checked my phone much, but sometimes, I left it untouched for hours just to pretend—just to imagine, for a second, that when I finally looked at it, I would see something.

A message.

A missed call.

A notification that was not just a useless app reminder.

But there was never anything.

The ache in my chest was familiar by now, dull but relentless.

I felt like I was missing something vital, something everyone else had but I simply… didn’t.

It was stupid.

I had a job. A roof over my head. A place in the world, even if it felt like I was just existing rather than living.

But still—

Still.

I wanted someone.

Someone to talk to about nothing and everything.

Someone to laugh with.

Someone who would see my name pop up on their phone and be excited to hear from me.

But I didn’t know how to reach out.

Didn’t know how to start.

Didn’t know if it was even possible for someone like me.

If Gojo noticed anything, he didn’t show it.

Not at first.

He still teased, still popped up at the most unexpected moments, still acted like the world was his playground.

But then, I started catching him watching me.

Just little moments, subtle shifts.

His head tilting ever so slightly whenever I hesitated before answering a question.

His focus lingering when I thought no one was paying attention.

At first, I just chalked it up to paranoia. But it kept happening.

The worst part was, Gojo wasn’t the type to care without reason. If he was noticing me, if he was watching me, it meant something had tipped him off.

That terrified me.

Because if he figured it out—if he somehow pieced together how hollow my life really was—I wasn’t sure I could handle that kind of scrutiny.

So I tried harder.

Tried to look normal.

Tried to pretend that I wasn’t weighed down by something invisible, something I didn’t have the words for.

But Gojo was sharp in a way most people didn’t realize.

And even if I could fool everyone else,

I couldn’t fool him.

The days continued to pass, each one blending into the next. I had fallen into a routine, and while there was a sense of comfort in that, there was also something else—something heavier, something I tried not to think about too much.

I wasn’t unhappy, exactly. I had a job, I had a purpose, and I wasn’t struggling. But the silence of my own life had become deafening.

At Jujutsu High, I was surrounded by people, but I had never felt more alone.

It was during lunch that I felt it the most.

I always sat outside, away from the busy chatter of the cafeteria, where students and staff alike gathered in their little groups.

It wasn’t like anyone had told me to sit alone. I had just… done it.

It was easier that way.

Or at least, that was what I told myself.

I had taken to watching the students from afar. Not in an obvious way, but just enough to see the ease of their friendships. The way Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi existed in a way that I had never known myself.

“Oi, Megumi, say ‘ahhh’—”

“No.”

“Come onnn, I made it with love!”

“I literally watched you drop that on the floor.”

Nobara pouted dramatically, only for Yuji to swoop in and eat whatever it was she had been trying to force on Megumi. The two of them laughed at something he said, and even Megumi, who always tried to seem indifferent, looked somewhat amused.

I turned my gaze away with a slight smile, focusing on my food.

It shouldn’t have made me feel like this.

It was such a simple thing—friends joking around, sharing lunch, teasing each other. It wasn’t as if I had ever expected to be part of something like that.

And yet.

I let out a quiet sigh and checked my phone.

Zero notifications.

The same empty lock screen. The same stillness.

I turned it off quickly and placed it back on the table, pushing my food around with my chopsticks.

“Not hungry?”

I looked up, startled.

Shoko had appeared beside me, a cigarette dangling between her fingers as she leaned against the bench. Her sharp eyes flickered to my barely-touched food.

“Oh,” I hesitated. “No, I just…” I trailed off, not really knowing how to finish the sentence.

Shoko hummed. “Gojo giving you trouble?”

I blinked. “What?”

She smirked, exhaling smoke. “He’s been staring at you a lot.”

My stomach twisted uncomfortably. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just gave a weak chuckle and shook my head.

“I think he just likes messing with people.”

“That’s an understatement.” Shoko stretched, then took another drag. “He’s nosy, though. If he’s paying attention to you, he’s probably noticed something.”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling even more self-conscious.

Shoko didn’t push. She just glanced at my food again, then nodded toward the cafeteria. “You should eat with them sometime. They wouldn’t mind.”

I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Maybe,” I lied.

She didn’t call me out on it. Just gave a lazy wave and wandered off, disappearing into the school.

I should have expected it.

I really should have.

But when Gojo’s voice rang out, disrupting my fragile moment of peace, I still nearly choked on air.

“You eat like someone’s forcing you,” he remarked, plopping down onto the bench beside me without a single care.

I froze.

He was too close.

I wasn’t used to people being this close.

Gojo didn’t seem to notice—or, more likely, he didn’t care. He leaned back, stretching his long legs out in front of him, his arms sprawled over the back of the bench as if he owned the whole world.

I forced a weak chuckle, gripping my chopsticks tighter. “I eat fine.”

“Debatable.” He tilted his head toward me. “You’re all stiff. Like a scared little rabbit.”

I gave him a look, but I knew better than to actually argue. Gojo thrived off reactions.

Instead, I let out a breathy laugh and looked away.

He wasn’t deterred.

“So,” he continued, tapping his fingers against the bench, “why do you always eat alone?”

I nearly dropped my chopsticks.

The question caught me off guard—not because it was unexpected, but because it was so blunt.

My throat felt tight. “I just prefer it,” I murmured, staring down at my food.

“Really?” Gojo drawled. “Because I think you just don’t know how to ask to sit with someone.”

I swallowed, gripping my chopsticks so hard they might snap. “That’s not—”

“C’mon, am I wrong?”

I didn’t answer.

Gojo sighed dramatically, turning to face me fully. “You’re a weird one, you know that?”

I let out a nervous laugh, feeling my entire body lock up under his gaze.

“And you’re loud,” I mumbled before I could stop myself.

He grinned. “I am loud. But I’m fun, too.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just nodded weakly.

He tapped a finger against the table. “Seriously, though. You’re always off on your own. No friends? No tragic backstory?”

I blinked rapidly, caught completely off guard. “I—”

“Oh my god, do you have amnesia? Are you secretly a lost princess? A government experiment gone wrong?”

Despite myself, I let out a small laugh. It was quiet, but it was real.

Gojo grinned like he had won something.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“I know,” he said smugly. Then, after a pause, his voice turned softer—quieter. “But really. You okay?”

The question hit harder than I expected.

I stared at my untouched food, feeling my throat tighten.

I didn’t know how to answer.

Because I didn’t even know what ‘okay’ meant anymore.

Gojo didn’t push.

He just sat there, waiting, as if he had all the time in the world.

But I wasn’t ready.

So I did what I always did.

I laughed awkwardly. Nodded.

And said nothing at all.

Gojo let out a hum, tapping his fingers against the table again.

He knew.

Maybe not everything, but something.

And that scared me more than anything.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi, I hope this is an okay question to ask. I am s l o w l y exploring and learning what kinds of kinks I like. I’m drawn to taboo kinks and I’m really curious about ageplay, but I’m worried that if I open the door to letting that be hot, I’m going to start seeing actual kids as hot. Obviously that doesn’t mean I would do anything about it, but I’m still not sure I want that in my head. Is there any truth in this fear? Could that happen?

well much in the same way that the majority of pup players aren't trying to hump real labradors on the street, D&D players generally aren't running around pulling swords on random shopkeepers, and my years doing Warriors Cats rp online never made me want to live in the woods pissing in the dirt and eating mice, I suspect that what you're attracted to is the safety of fantasy and play rather than the actual, literal thing. pretty big line between those two things, actually, and most people are pretty clear on the difference between stuff that's made up and harmless and stuff that's really really bad. I use this example often, but I assure you that my abiding love of Batman using his billions of dollars to dick around doing lawless bullshit has not softened my feelings on Elon Musk in the slightest.

I assume that, like most well-adjusted adults, you aren't attracted to children. what you're into is, presumably, adults acting in ways that are characterized as immature, carefree, cutesy, helpless, bratty, etc, and the dynamic of those playacting adults might have with others who take the role of their caregivers. that is... so, so, so far removed from being attracted to an actual human child. I don't know if you've ever actually, like, hung out with kids, but they're pretty different than adults. I mean obviously they're little humans who have their own opinions and ideas and personalities and have a right to autonomy and making their own decisions as much as is safely possible, but they are REALLY different from age appropriate, sexually compatible adults. someone doing ageplay is, like, a million miles from an actual kid.

it's kind of like how when Riverdale was on I'd see gifs of that insane redheaded lesbian and go "yeah, she's hot." like, sure, the character's a teenager, but that actress is an adult woman who's only two years younger than me and we all know that. the idea of fucking an actual teenager is vile. even if I were to see someone and have an initial aesthetic appreciation, the second they open their mouth and start saying 17 year old things the attraction is gone because I've realized that's a child.

(no offense to the teens in the room! you're great and I'm sure your 17 year old stuff is really important to you! but adults should not want to fuck you, is the point.)

so what I'm saying is: seems unlikely!

also, okay. let's assume the absolute worst case scenario happens and you experience a twinge of sexual interest towards a child. that's understandably alarming; that's not an urge most people want to harbor within themselves. that may require some dialing back from ageplay, or a chat with a kink-friendly mental health professional, or seeking out some community and advice from others in your kink scene who may have struggled with something similar. but please, give yourself some credit: you have some shred of impulse control within your body, yes? you're not going to make the leap from having a thought to being an active child predator in one fell swoop. the choice to harm a child, or to seek out pornographic material of child sexual abuse, are still choices that you would have to actually make. and it's making those choices to do harm that actually make child abusers a danger, not just having thoughts. having a thought all by itself doesn't hurt anyone; it's the way you act on it that has the potential to cause harm.

but again, I want to emphasize, sexual behavior is by and large a pretty easy wire not to get crossed with other things. please note the brave billions of people who manage to get through every day without groping their colleagues and random strangers because they understand it's not the appropriate time, place, or partner!

[whereisten]

French Maid

Summary: You feel a bit jealous after Johnny shows off his body at Paris Fashion Week. Are you really prepared to be the girlfriend of an idol as hot as he is? You're unsure. Johnny, however, reassures you that you're all his, surprising you with an interesting gift once he gets back.

Pairing: Idol!Johnny x female reader

Genre: smut, some angst in the beginning, fluff, comedy?

Warning: jealousy, cursing, stalking mention, smut: Johnny is a pervert in this, not irl! role play, dry humping, handcuff usage, sense play, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, praise kink, penetration (unprotected sex), size kink, overstimulation, edging, rough sex (spanking), camera usage.

Work Count: 5.7K

(A/N: HAPPY JOHNNY DAYYYYY WOOOOO!! our shining star was born on this day 30 years ago omgggg im cry. I started this right after his appearance at Fashion Week last year when he wore that open jacket thing for Acne, and decided to finish it for his birthday! It's mostly smut (surprise!) but he is very loving as well. I hope you enjoy it!! ❤️)

--------------

“And do you have to show your tiddies off every time?” You flail your arms about as you walk through your apartment.

Johnny just got home from his Paris fashion week trip. He stunned hundreds of thousands of people with his dashingly good looks that you’re all too familiar with. And while you are happy for him, you can’t help but feel jealous. You have to share your gorgeous man with the world every now and then and it stings.

Johnny simply laughs and places his bags down. “You know how it goes, my love, gotta give the people what they want.” He then hears a loud exhale from the kitchen.

“What about a nice decent suit? You know, the old Patrick Bateman look? And then you put that pen in your mouth like do you know how many germs were on that?” 

You close the fridge door and pour orange juice out for him to drink along with the breakfast you made for him.

He sighs and leans back slightly while sitting on the edge of his bed, the smell of bacon and pancakes fills his nose. “It smells amazing in here.”

“Well, yeah you can’t survive off of croissants and baguettes, so I prepared something for you before I head to work.”

His eyes open. Shit…work. He’s jet lagged out of his mind from this quick round trip, he forgot it’s a normal weekday for you. A work morning to be exact.

He gets up and heads to the table.

“Can you call off?” He runs a hand through his hair.

“No..unfortunately it’s my turn to show off my tiddies at work.” You sip your coffee and lean back in the dining chair so your cleavage pokes through your button down shirt.

Johnny raises a brow. “Ohh..so it’s like that, huh?”

You nod before smirking. “Yeah..”

He shrugs and bites into his pancake. “I won’t stop you, but I will ask if you’d like to help me take a shower before you go..” he rolls his neck and looks onto you with low eyes. “I’m just so jet lagged, you know?”

You scoff. “Get one of your googly-eyed superfans to do it, they’ve already seen most of your naked body.” You get up from the table and head to the bathroom to finish your makeup.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart!” Johnny chuckles. He seems to be pushing it too far with you lately, giving fans a glimpse into what you have the privilege to see at any time. He knows it makes you feel special, the truth is, you are. But just because fans see him like this every now and then doesn’t mean they can be his girlfriend. They’re not even close. You know this.

He knocks on the wall beside the bathroom door after finishing breakfast. 

“That was really good..thank you.”

“Eh.” You say while finishing your lipstick.

“You sure you don’t wanna spend some time with me today? I don’t have any schedules til tomorrow..I’m all yours.” He smiles and leans his head against the door as he takes in your beauty.

“No.”

He pouts. “Come on, sweetheart, you know I’m only yours, right?”

You put the lipstick down and turn to him. “Are you?”

He nods and steps closer, but you brush past him into the bedroom.

He sighs, taking his t-shirt off over his head as you put your shoes on.

“Check the suitcase before you leave.” He yells out over the sound of the shower running.

“Huh?!” You hesitate to grab your purse.

“You didn’t think I’d come back from the city of love empty handed, did you?”

You unzip his luggage and see a large white gift bag inside. A smile creeps across your face as all sorts of possibilities come into your mind. A new purse? A cute pair of shoes? A painting from the Louvre? Who knows!

But as your hands pull out what’s inside, your smile starts to fall slightly. The box is light, too light to have shoes or a purse inside. Not even a gown could fit in there.

The sparse and scanty pieces of clothing inside make your head tilt. “What the hell is this?” The shower is too loud for Johnny to hear you.

*clink*

Something drops out of the bundle.

Fluffy…handcuffs? 

“Oh.” Your eyes widen.

You start to arrange the pieces in a way you think makes sense and there it is. A slutty French maid outfit with a bustier and stockings to match. There are cat ears and a clip on tail that causes you to chuckle. But it’s strange because..it’s not in your size..it’s in his.

You can’t contain your laughter. You step back from the bag to clutch your stomach. Johnny had truly outdone himself this time.

A few minutes later he comes out of the bathroom with just his towel around his waist and his hair still wet. He doesn’t look around for you, figuring that you’re at work by now.

His head tilts when he sees the outfit laid out on the bed neatly. He laughs to himself. “And she still went to work..”

You clear your throat. “No I didn’t..I’m right here.”

Startled, he turns to see you standing in the bedroom doorway. You’re wearing your red lingerie set with the matching lace gown over it. And he silently goes crazy when he sees the red garter belts hugging your thighs tightly, making a mental note to remember to drag them off with his teeth later.

He swallows hard. “You called out..for me?”

You smile and nod. “Yeah..you’ve got some making up to do..work can wait.”

He blushes then rushes towards you with his arms out. “Babe..you look amazing.”

“As do you..” you look up at him over you now. You finally kiss him after holding back all this time, holding his warm face in your hands. He kisses you passionately, turning his head to swallow your tongue like waiting for what feels like centuries. You moan as your bottom lip meshes with his and your body becomes weak. He holds your ass tightly in his large hands.

As he pulls away for a short break, spit falls onto your chin. You push yourself up closer to him, wanting, no, needing more. Kissing was another talent the giant had, only you knew that. He lunges forward again, moaning against your lips before biting it suddenly. You whimper, your hands reach around his back and rest on his broad shoulders.

But you can’t forget what you really want. You pull back. 

His mouth falls open as he breathes heavily. “What’s wrong? Too hard? Too messy?” He's already doubting how good he makes you feel.

“No..no it was perfect, Johnny, you’re perfect..”

His eyes crinkle and he leans in again, but you back away.

“Put that on first..” you whisper while staring at his lips now red with your lipstick.

He nods. “Oh..you want me to do that..now?”

You look up with round, boba like eyes that you know he can’t resist. “Only if you aren’t too tired..”

He shakes his head. “I’m never too tired for you, baby.” 

He practically gallops towards the bed, but turns to you. “Can I get some privacy please? I’ll call for you when I’m ready.” He says with a sass you never imagined he could have.

You nod and close the door, then sit patiently in the living room. You’d never made love to man in a feminine cosplay before, but you were excited for some reason. A 6-foot something man is wearing a slutty costume just for you. Does it get any hotter than that?

A few minutes later you hear a knock. “Housekeeping!” Johnny calls out.

You laugh and walk in. The white and black dress hugs his waist perfectly over the bustier and his tail clings to his back side.

His toned thighs stick out from under the *very* short hem of the dress, barely being held together by his own lace garter belt. You never imagined he’d look amazing in stockings. But he’s Johnny, of course he’d look good.

He has a feather duster in hand. He pays close attention to the dust on your lamps and nightstand and you’re wondering if he’s taking the role play a little *too* seriously. 

Nonetheless, you play along too. “Excuse me…you missed a spot.”

Johnny nods and rushes to your side where you point to a spot on the dresser. He stares intently, moving the feathers over the spot. 

“Hmm lower..there’s another spot.”

He nods and bends down to see.

“I don’t see the spot, ma’am” he says innocently.

“Oh you’re really bad at this.” You chuckle then move to stand behind him.

You grab his waist and push onto his ass. “Lower..bend down.”

With one hand, you reach around his front side and under his skirt; just brushing over his tip.

“Oh!” He jumps at the feeling of your soft hand on him.

He stands up straight then turns around to you. “I got it.”

“Hmm I think it took you too long to get, why should I have to tell you how to do your job?”

Johnny smiles as you try to be intimidating. It’s cute, and he can’t stop his heart from racing. What’s your plan with him all dressed up like this? He’s not sure, but it feels good to not be the one in charge.

“I think it’s time you were reprimanded for your failures.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re..filling this out” you laugh out while looking at his double d’s pressed together in the black and shiny bustier.  

“Thank you, it’s a little uncomfortable , I can’t believe you guys do this every day.” He smiles widely, then lowers his face down towards yours. 

You step back. “No no..on the bed.”

He crawls onto the bed quickly, giving you a glimpse of his ass in the red thong that came with the costume. You turn your head and laugh, but quickly regain your seriousness.

You pluck a feather from the duster while humming to yourself. 

He lays down on his back, leaning on a few pillows as he watches you climb over him. 

“Safe word?” You ask him.

He nods. “Vanilla.”

You nod.

“Hmmm where should we start?” You say as his hands roam over your ass, pushing the hem of your night dress up slightly.

“I’ve been very bad..what will you do to me?” His honey brown eyes are wide and stare at you intensely, but they don’t hide the fact that he’s biting his rouge stained bottom lip and squeezing your ass. It’s like he’s begging to be punished.

You smirk back and grab the handcuffs.

“Well of course we’ll have to restrict your freedom first. Show me your hands.”

He lays his arms out towards you. You slap on one cuff, then lean over him so you can wrap the chain around a small section of the headboard. 

The second cuff locks around his wrist, keeping his arms above his head and attached to the headboard so you can get to work.

You sit back and smile at him. “There..much better.”

Just barely hidden behind the veil of your lace gown and lingerie is your gorgeous body above him, it’s his religion. He needs you like the Earth needs water.

“Damn..I wish I could touch you.”

“Only good boys get to do that.” You lean down and kiss him, hovering over his crotch, just high enough to not touch him yet.

“Hmm..” you lean forward and press your lips against his. As expected, he dives into you, exploring your tongue and lips like it’s the first time.

You widen your legs a bit more so your opening finally rests on his lace-covered dick. The thin fabric of your thong and his thong and skirt being the only things to separate your skin.

You move back and forth slowly while caressing his arms above his head.

He tugs against the cuffs, already begging for a little more friction between the two of you down there. He groans when he realizes he can’t get you to press down harder.

You pull away. “Tsk tsk so impatient, you said you’re all mine for the day right?”

“Yes, but give me a little more, please baby..I need you…ahhh..just..a little..lower.”

“You need me?” You pout, distracting him from the fact that you’re pulling his bustier down to reveal his nipples. You then dangle the feather above one and circle around it. 

“You’re so pretty with red lipstick, baby” you say to him.

“I think I should add some more..” you kiss and suck on his neck slowly while playing with the feather, coating his skin with hot, breathy whispers in between. “What do you need from me?”

He draws in a sharp breath, feeling the delicate feather dance around his sensitive nipples.

“I need you..need you so badly..”

His head falls back as he feels your soft lips place wet kisses along his body. 

“Be more specific..”

He pulls against his handcuffs and pants. “Your body..fuck me please..I need it.”

You grind down onto him harder, feeling his shaft hard as a rock against you.

He groans. “That feels good baby.”

“Does it?” You look up at his clenched jaw line. “Should I go lower?”

He nods. 

“But first…” you flick your tongue out on top of his nipple and around it, gaining a shaky breath. His head falls back. You lick and suck harder as you find his cock below you. You run your hand down his abs, applying just a bit of pressure then dip your hand into his thong, stroking him slowly, so slowly he groans and bites his bottom lip. The sensation of your warm mouth on his chest is different for him, but feels good.  

“Please..more, sweetheart..a little faster.” He bucks his hip up in an effort to push you to go faster. 

“I bet you wanna feel me around you..”

You can feel him twitch under you.

You lick your lips. “What if I don’t let you cum tonight?”

He frowns. “Baby..” he whines “but I’ll be a good boy for you..I-I’ll do anything for you, you know that.”

You caress his desperate face with your hand and look into his large eyes. “Sweetheart..you couldn’t even dust the nightstand properly.”

He licks his lips. “I'm sorry, baby, give me another chance. I’ll make it up to you..just take these things off.” He pulls forward again. His tone grows dark with that last statement. It’s as if he isn’t asking, but is demanding you take them off.

You’re really riling him up. You chuckle and lean forward.

You kiss his neck, but make sure not to bite his skin, his manager would kill both you and him if he showed up to work with a necklace of hickeys.

“You like it when I touch you, huh?” You whisper into his ear.

He nods quickly before moaning. 

“How about when I taste you?”

He nods again and watches as you lower your face to his hips. You flip his skirt up and kiss his tip.

“Fuck..” a breath leaves him once your round lips circle his tip and lick the pre-cum leaking from out of it. It’s more than you’ve given him so far, but it still isn’t enough.

His abs flex as he breathes heavily.

You draw a long stripe up his shaft. “How is it, baby, still good?”

“Yes..so good..just a little more..”

“You gonna beg for me again?” You tease him and lick once more.

He fidgets. “Yes, baby, please, I’ll do anything.” You hear the chains of the handcuff struggle against the headboard. “Just let me see you.”

With your head hidden under his skirt, he can’t see the satisfying way your mouth takes him in. He can’t see you choke as he enters your throat over and over. He truly did not think about the ramifications of wearing such an interesting costume for you, and it’s starting to annoy him.

“No can do, my love..” you swallow him now, bobbing up and down while using your two hands to cover what can’t fit.

He can hear you gag and see your back arch as your ass sticks up in the air for him to look at, and it almost makes him feel better about not seeing your head. But he still tries to get out of the handcuffs.

He fills your throat up, making you choke, but you struggle through it, moaning to send vibrations that you know will push him along.

He moans. “That’s it..yes..keep going..”

You move faster as he curses.

You can feel yourself growing hotter. You could just bounce on it to bring you both to your long awaited release, but that would be too easy. Today is different.

He groans louder and before he can finally release, you pull up from him and take his skirt off of your head.

He frowns. “Baby please..” he begs as he pants.

You shake your head while breathing heavily. “Do you think you deserve it?”

He nods “Come here, let me taste you too.” You’re not surprised he wants to do the 69 position on a random morning, but today is not that day.

You chuckle and lift his skirt over your head again.

He draws in a sharp breath. “Yes..”

You continue to bob your head up and down. He nearly loses it when you swallow him whole, but he focuses on breaking his handcuffs quietly, loudly groaning to cover up the clinking sound of plastic.

The sounds you make are lewd. Your mouth and jaw become messy, spit building up as you work on him. He’s so close, but just like before, you pull off of him.

“Ohh..oh my God..” he shuts his eyes tightly. “I don’t know how much more I can’t take, baby.” And you can tell he isn’t lying because of the way sweat coats his forehead. But you know you get the most out of him after denying him for a bit, so you truly have no regrets.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “That’s too bad..should we just stop now?”

“No! No.. baby, at least, let me taste you please..I know it’s dripping down your legs by now. Don’t you want me to help you with that?” He asks so innocently, and you fall for it. Your throat was sore and needed a break from taking in his monster dick after all.

You remove a pillow from behind his head before kneeling over his face and lowering yourself carefully. You then push the fabric covering your opening to the side.

He moans loudly. “Yes, baby..just like that.” You start to ride him and throw your head back while he moans against you. His mouth kisses you just as well as it did before. Only this time, his tongue licks over that one spot. You know you’ll see stars soon. You close your eyes and gasp. 

You don’t notice that he’s broken the plastic handcuffs easily because he still has his hands around the headboard.

You aren’t putting all your weight on him and it bothers him that you aren’t relaxed although he’s begged you to be many times before when he’s asked you to ride his face. So, he takes matters into his own hands.

He pulls free and flips you over, holding both wrists tightly so you can’t push his head away.  

Your eyes widen. How and when did he break-free? You grunt. 

“Ohh you’re that impatient..what a bad boy.” You ruffle your hand through his hair.

He lifts his head up and looks onto with dangerous, low eyes. You’ve never seen him so..hungry. 

“Yes..I’ve been waiting since I departed that airport.” He practically growls. Oh, you’re in for it now. Your pathetic, pleading puppy eyed boy just left the building. He takes another deep dive, licking and kissing you like he’s been aching for the opportunity. 

You moan. 

He takes a break so he can lean back and chuckle at the shock in your eyes. He then hooks his fingers into the waistband of your thing and drags it down your legs.

“Been thinking of how deep I want to go, how tight I’m gonna hold you until you can’t think of anything but me.” He dangles the wet fabric in the air on one finger then holds it to his nose. “Ahh fuck…you smell amazing.”

Your legs try to close as you become more aroused by his pervy actions, but he holds you open with his knees prying you apart.

He takes in a deep breath to drink in your natural scent. “I haven’t done this in a while”

You bite your bottom lip.

“When you invited me over the first time, I stole that frilly pink and purple panty of yours…” he leans forward again and kisses your stomach while looking up at you. 

“It smelled delicious..” he kisses your thigh next. You tremble as his hands hold your waist.

He then speaks over your pussy. “The first night..I held it to my nose as I came into my hand.” his tongue draws a stripe along your slit. You gasp.

“Johnny..” you whimper.

“The second night..I did the same thing only this time..I watched you through the window..you were getting undressed after our date that night. I left you with just a kiss because you weren’t ready yet..but I made sure to leave your blinds open. You started putting lotion on your body..and I wished it were my hands..”

He uses his index and middle finger to open you up more then dives in again, licking more vigorously as his nails dig into your soft, warm skin to hold you still.

“That’s..wrong.” You grind onto his face while moaning out.

“And yet, you’re still here..I think you like having a pervert eat you out..” he kisses your thigh again.

“Johnny..l”

“You should know I still have it..and I take it with me for every trip.” He then moves his head faster, his tongue exploring every inch of you.

“Johnny..I’m close, fuck.” You move your hips in circular motions to get more friction against your sweet spot.

“Go ahead ..I’ve been waiting.”

Your back arches, it’s all becoming too much for you, but before you can push his head away. He grabs your hands.

And when you finally climax on his wonderful mouth, he continues to hold both wrists with one hand and attaches the handcuffs to them with the other.

You lay in the plush bed, panting as you come down from it all.

“Ahh what a beauty.” He kisses the inner part of your thighs and kneels in front of you. Your eyes open and reality sets in that you’re the one that’s bound now.

He watches you as you look at his tip peeking beneath the skirt, then laughs at you for being so lustful for it. He unclips his garter belt and slides his thong off before tossing it to the side where yours is.

He then lays down beside you, propping his head up with one hand.

His fingers trace down your abdomen gently as he opens your cover up and unhooks your bra from the front so he can see all of you. 

“Now..it’s time for room service right?” He bites into your thighs and listens to you moan.

He pulls your bra down and kisses your nipples. He then picks up a feather and delicately circles around your hard nipples now to return the favor. 

You draw in a sharp breath. “Johnny..” 

He watches the way you shiver and goosebumps raise. Your legs tighten while you fidget. You bite your bottom lip, unsure of how much teasing you can take. 

He drags the feather up and down your abdomen. You close your eyes tightly. 

“Nuh uh look at me.” He pinches a nipple to get your attention. “I’m giving you 5 star service, don’t look away.” He chuckles and runs his thumb over your bottom lip

“Next on my to do list..hmmm should I fuck you?” He drags the feather down your abdomen and to your hips, his eyes tracing over your curves. Over every inch that drives him wild.

You nod.

“Speak when I’m talking to you..” his eyes grow dark suddenly. This was the power Johnny had. He could easily turn the tables on you in seconds..even while wearing furry cat ears. He put this comical outfit on to trick you into thinking you’d be in control this time. But no..oh no, you were so wrong.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” His fingers replace the feather now. Tracing down your belly and to your apex. He cups your pussy then presses his middle and ring fingers in while sliding up and down.

You look down at his veiny arm, but his other arm sneaks around head, his hand holding your chin to turn your face back to him. 

“Look at me..I won’t ask you again.” he growls and it sends chills down your spine.

You bat your lashes and look into his eyes. you whimper as his fingertips dig in deeper. 

“Fuck me, Johnny” 

“Hard or soft?”

At this point, you’re mindlessly rutting against him, moving against his hand as you chase your climax greedily.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t—doesn’t matter, just fuck me..please..” you beg so beautifully it’s like music to his ears. And with that combined with how silky wet you are, he almost loses it, but instead he pulls his fingers out and massages your clit.

You throw your head back. “Fuck..I’m gonna..”

“Y/n..tell me what you want.. I have to make sure you’re satisfied with the service, don’t I?” His fingers move faster as he speaks over your open mouth.

You lose your breath, panting as you’re about to crash again. He already knows your answer, but he wants to hear you say it, wants to hear you beg for it. He slows his movements.

“Johnny please..I just…”

“You don’t get to cum until you answer the question.” He starts to speed up again, knowing you can’t possibly hold back.

“Hard!! I want it hard!” You finally scream out and with that your climax crashes over you. Johnny chuckles as he watches you make a mess while squirming in his arms.

He kneels over you again and grabs his phone from the nightstand beside the bed.

“I miss you so much when I’m away, I want to have something to keep me company.” He takes a picture of you while he rests in between your legs. 

He then flips you over, makes you arch your back but puts a pillow under you.

“Are you ready for me?” His hands caress your ass.

You hold yourself up on your elbows with your wrists bound in front of you. “Yes.” You whine.

He enters you swiftly. Slamming your ass against his hips.

You cry out and fall forward after the harsh attack. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust, but he stays in so he can feel all of you. You can already feel tears coming to your eyes after the initial pain of penetration.

He holds onto the headboard for stability then takes another picture of your body from this angle then tosses his phone. “Perfect.”

He grunts as he drives into you, staying for a moment before pulling out to do it again. You whimper, your body growing weak under him already. You start to feel yourself open more, but it’s still not enough.

“Johnny!! Ahh! You’re too big, it hurts..”He’s thick and long, all you can do is cry into sheets as he stretches you. Fortunately for him, he knows you’d really say the safe word if you were uncomfortable, so he keeps going. 

“Keep whining, it only makes me harder.” He growls.

“Please..I don’t think I can...” your chest heaving as you try to collect your nerves.

He spanks your ass, causing you to yelp and cry harder. “You wanted the biggest and best because you’re greedy..right?”

All you can do is whine.

“Making me do all this just because I missed a spot.” He then holds your waist to turn you on your back so he can see you drooling with glossy eyes. 

“And now you want me to stop? It’s too late, baby..I’m gonna make sure you’re too full to ask for more.” Your breasts, pushed together after resting in-between your bound arms, move beautifully with each rough thrust and your moans grow louder. 

You look even better with your hands tied together, so he notes how he likes this restricted look on you. Normally, you’d be swatting his hands away or digging your nails deep into his back. You’re completely at his mercy this time, you’re basically his pretty doll to fuck as he pleases, to touch as he pleases.

He cups a breast with his cold hand and rubs his palm over your nipple. His tongue licks his bottom lip as he squeezes you gently. You moan his name again. You feel pretty and adored under his gaze. You may get upset with him sometimes, but only he could make you feel this good.

He then lowers his hand down to your stomach. 

“Look at my girl, you take me so well, you kept this pussy warm for me, right?” He throws a leg over his shoulder and the new angle finishes you. He holds your ankle with one hand then presses his fingers into your cheeks with his other hand. 

“You should see yourself right now..crying and drooling..you’re making a mess..but it’s just how you like it, right?”

He snaps his hips even harder. The headboard knocks against the wall repeatedly and a small part of you starts to worry about the noise complaint you’ll receive later. You breathe heavily and whine louder. He groans louder in response. Yup, definitely gonna get that complaint.

He makes you feel more and more empty headed with each passing second. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. Only mousy noises escape in between the sounds of him entering you deep. You feel dizzy, but in complete bliss.

He tilts his head and smirks. “You had so much to say earlier, cat got your tongue?” 

Yes, he’s a bit corny, but something about Johnny ruining you while wearing a skimpy costume and skirt makes this all hotter. His nipples are hard and stick out above his lowered bustier while his small waist is neatly cinched. His skirt covers where your two bodies meet but it doesn’t matter, you can still hear him pounding into you like he wants to build a new bed from IKEA later.

“Ahh Johnny..” you whimper once more, your voice going up several pitches while your breath is caught in your throat. His hand lets go of your cheeks and caresses your other breast.

“You crying for me? You’re so wet..Still too much for you?” His thumb plays with your nipple.

You shake your head.

He smiles sadistically. “That’s my girl.”

The hand on your ankle slides down to the inside of your knee, he leans down closer to your face, pressing your knee into the bed beside it. You had no idea you could be this flexible until you met him.

He kisses your ear then whispers. “I saw so many beautiful women but all I could think about was you. I need you baby, keep me in..fuck..” He bites your neck hard. 

Curse words flow out of his mouth as he gets ready to climax with you. His hand squeezes your waist, holding you down while you tremble with him still deep inside.

You practically yell his name as you ruin the sheets under you.

He quickly opens your handcuffs then lays down beside you, giving you long strokes instead of his short, harsh ones. “How is it baby, is it good?” He fondles your breasts while hugging you tightly from behind. He decides it’s time to switch to soft. 

He has enough energy to keep going hard, but in this moment, he wants to let you feel loved, because you are. He drapes your leg over his then massages your belly, inching closer and closer to your apex. He reaches your clit and draws deep circles slowly.

He kisses your neck and whispers. “Tell me I’m a good boy, baby..I make you feel good, don’t I?”

You can’t do anything but nod fervently. 

He starts to go faster. “Baby..please..say it for me.”

You moan, your hand reaches around behind you and to his hair. “Y-You’re a good boy..so good.”

His hips move faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with both your whimpers fills the air.

“It’s good like this, right? I love you, baby.”

Your eyes shut tightly. “I love you too..so much!” A sudden burst of pleasure overwhelms your body. You shake in his arms.

“I’ve got you..breathe with me..good girl..” he whispers and slows his pace while cumming with you. You breathe deeply then turn your head to kiss him. His arms wrap around your waist as you both climax finally, the combined essence gushing out of you like never before.

“That’s it..my pretty girl.” He pulls out before kissing your ear. “I missed you.”

You groan and pant. “I missed you too, baby.”

“How are you feeling?” He kisses your neck.

“I’m..let’s just say I don’t think I can go to work tomorrow either.”

He takes in the scent of your hair. “Ooo in that case, shall we have another go?”

Your eyes widen. He just destroyed you, you're not even sure if you can stand up straight for more than 5 seconds. “Slow down there..we gotta clean up first.”

“Okay!” He lowers himself to the apex of your legs, his hands slowly parting your thighs as he wets his lips.

“Johnny..baby, that’s not what I mean.” 

He drags your garter belt down with his teeth while looking up at you.

Your head falls back, but it’s too late, he’s already “cleaning up” and within minutes you’re gripping his hair and crying til you’re hoarse.

The End

[soaringwide]

PAC: A message regarding the situation in your mind

9 Piles, short-to-medium messages that can be applied to multiple situations.

I saw this reading by @redwinewhiteroses and thought it was such a wonderful idea that I wanted to do something similar.

Also, I wanted to get back into pick a card readings by doing shorter messages than what I usually do, and something people can go back to when needed for different purposes or situations.

So take a deep breath and focus on the situation you'd like an answer for when selecting the eyeshadow swatch.

book a reading ★ all PACs ★ testimonials

ONDINE 01

You have completed a cycle, and before you lies an open field. I think that despite this time being very exciting, because you have the opportunity to get on this entirely new journey, to start fresh and go wherever you want, I think that your previous failures still weight heavily on your mind, and that you are deeply scared to repeat past mistakes. You fear that things will end horribly before you even set foot on this new journey. I think the message here is to learn to not be so pessimistic and to have a bit of trust in yourself and the World. Perhaps you also need to spend some time recentering yourself and cooling down your heated emotions, so that you can see this situation more objectively, and avoid thinking the worse prematurely.

Try to channel the energy of excitement for this adventure that you are about to go on. Find the sense of wonder for what the world can offer, without worrying so much. Part of your journey is about finding this sense of magic and faith back, so that you have the energy to start something fresh. Yes no road is ever fully safe and nobody knows what's around the corner, but you can prepare for it, and you can handle it. So smile, for today a new sun is rising.

GALAPAGOS 02

You are being presented with an opportunity that you are pondering on deeply. I see you wondering if you can trust this situation, or person, thinking about where it could lead you, how it could unfold, playing with scenarios in your mind as a way to plan ahead. This situation, or person, is provoking new and exciting emotions to rise to the surface, but you are hesitant to trust it and go along with these sweet feelings it's creating in you. It seems good, but is it too good to be true? Are you fooling yourself and seeing things too naively? I think you may be trying to rule your heart with your mind because you don't trust this fickle thing, as if you were trying to over-compensate the strength of your desires, setting them aside by being as objective as possible.

The message here is about getting out of your head and back into the world. Not everything needs to be figured out, some things are meant to be lived to the fullest, with their light and shadow. Today you are being called to savor the pleasures of what is happening, to open yourself up to celebrate the beauty and joy of life and to share it with others. Things may not be as unstable as you fear them to be, so open your heart and join the dance. Beautiful memories await to be made.

NIGHTCLUBBING 03

The energy of your situation is one of withdrawal and deep reflection. There is a profound need to reconnect with the deepest aspects of yourself. For some, it could have to do with your spiritual self, as in, reconnecting with what is True to you, what gives you a sense of faith, what drives your soul forward. In all cases, this is about piercing through the night with the light of your mind in order to find hidden knowledge within yourself. A type of knowledge that is unique to yourself, your path, and your life. Perhaps you are currently reconsidering important life choices, or trying to find a new sense of direction, and you are being nudged to look inwards and focusing on your own truth rather than looking out to find answers.

What's interesting, is that the advice is talking about what unfolds after this time of self reflection. You are advised to take your gaze out of yourself and towards the world, to first plan actionable steps in order to bring your plan to life. You gained the clarity you needed and you have all you need to focus your energy in a focused way. Not only that careful but determined process will bring success to your endeavor, I'm also getting that the process itself will feel rewarding, as in, it will feel like reaping the fruits while you are moving forward. It's like after all this soul searching, moving forward again will feel like a win in itself, and you are encouraged to enjoy this stimulating energy and keep rolling with it.

BIARRITZ 04

This situation talks about an urgent need for security, be it financial or health related. It seems you've recently hit a wall and feel drained, again either when it comes to your health and body, or your money-related issues, but it could very well be both. You aspire for stability and a deep sense of achievement, but the truth is that you feel only half there, so severely lacking, which could manifest with a job that makes you feel sick and/or not paid enough for the amount of effort and energy you're pouring in. You know better conditions are possible and you want to go after that.

The advice is about weighting things carefully and not rushing into things. It is only natural to want out of this situation as fast as possible, but the ground under you is shaky and will require balanced actions. It would be tempting to just want out as fast as possible but you must be careful about not being rash and going after more than you can handle. I'm drawn to the idea that it's related to what you are currently able to handle personally, as in, you need to take things easy and take care of yourself well if you want to be able to get out of this situation in a graceful and healthy manner that will reward you in the long run. Otherwise you run the risk of harming yourself further and getting back to square one. So focus on finding balance within yourself, be mindful of your limits act slowly. It may seem like things are going too slow for your liking, but it's the best way forward for the time being.

VALHALLA 05

I get a sense of energy, excitement and freedom with this pile. This feels like a new year on a personal level, where everything seems possible and you have an open field in front of you to take whatever first step you want to shape your future. There is this massive burst of inspiration that feels cheerful and motivating, as if you could conquer the world today. The future feels hopeful and you have the drive to put things in motion. You may quite literally throw a party, sharing your joy with friends and significant people, possibly to celebrate some type of milestone.

The advice talks further about this, telling you to lean further into this energy of completion and new start. Do not look back but focus on the future and immerse yourself in this rebirth of creative energy in the purest form. Side note but when I mean creative energy, I don't mean that you literally need to be an artist, but that this energy is about creating something new that brings emotional fulfillment. The main takeaway is to savor this feeling of completion while opening yourself up to what the future will bring. Embrace this burst of positive feelings and let them fuel your movements forward. This is indeed a time to be excited and hopeful.

THUNDERBALL 06

You seem to be currently sitting at a crossroad, contemplating a decision that weights heavy on your mind. It feels like whatever you decide to do will have significant impact on your future, and you're feeling a bit stuck, turning things around in your head, trying to find the best course of action.

What you don't see is that what stops you from making the right decision has to do with looking at things with the wrong mindset. You seem fearful, full of self doubts and feelings of inadequacy, which in turns distorts the situation in your mind, making it seem more dramatic and fatalistic than it actually is. You yearn to connect to your situation in a genuine, positive and efficient way that aligns with who you are and how you feel, but it's like you're overwhelmed by this shadow which stops you from doing those things. It also seems like you are not investing in yourself in the right way, or your energy in the right way, which is increasing this feeling of being misaligned. It calls for doing things differently instead of keep doing the same things over and over again.

The message is to take a step back and let go of seriousness for a minute. Try to look at things more playfully. Find your way back to a joyful lightheartedness, which you've been severely neglecting. This cannot be forced, mind you, but will arise once you let go of the reins you're holding onto way too tightly. You don't need to control everything 10 steps in advance, it can actually be more efficient to just go with the flow and focus on the little sparks of light along the way. Life is kinda silly, and so are most of your problems, let's be fair, and it's time to embrace a new mindset that will free yourself.

BLONDIE 07

Your situation is about yearning for something that you hold very dear to your heart. An opportunity for growth, for change, something you find valuable and think that it will add a lot to your life. You have your eyes set on the prize, however, your whole mindset is being dragged by this feeling that you don't have enough, that you are not enough, and that you are somewhat unable to get what you want due to feeling somewhat broken. You goal seems far and your current situation dire, and you're exhausting yourself dreaming about it while feeling that you'll never get it.

The message is that you are making yourself stuck by getting lost in those heavy feelings of lack that are not followed by any actions that could actually bring you closer to you goal. This results in a feelings of apathy and boredom and refrain you from actually seizing the opportunities that you can. There is a need to correct your course of actions by opening yourself up to the future and get yourself out of that loop. Free yourself by doing things differently and looking out for actual actions you could take, and detach yourself from the chaos of your emotions. You need to rekindle with your sense of drive and determination to get the wheels out of the mud. Remember that you have all it takes and add a bit of discipline into your life. I know I hate that word too, but when you're stuck in a loop, it's basically a routine that you need to unlearn, and learning a new one requires sustained effort and focus until it becomes natural.

MEKONG 08

For your situation, I see you either currently going through, or about to go on a process of stepping out of isolation to get into the world once more. It's not just about simply socializing more, but really getting out of a dark place that see you withdrawing from the world and getting stuck in mental distress. It seems you realized this is going to lead nowhere good and are now trying to balance your emotional state out by reaching out to loved ones, be they friends, lovers, family, or some form of community at large. This is really an empowering process where you're taking accountability for the way you feel and trying out different ways to feel better by getting out of your own space. And I really think this has to do with physically going somewhere, even for a few hours.

The message is highly energized and full of movement, as the cards encourage you to channel the energy of forward motion and novelty. Yes it may feel awkward and unusual for you to step outside your (dis)comfort zone, but it will be highly rewarding on many levels. Take a first step! It doesn't have to be something grand and hard to do. Try to find little ways to start moving forward again, get out of your own space, reach out to people and seek connections. Go in with an open mind and an open heart and keep working at it day after day. It will only get easier as you get used to the feeling, and you will fuel yourself when you realize how better you start to feel.

NIGHT FLIGHT 09

For your situation, I see you holding onto a specific way of envisioning the future. It's like, there is a certain way you want things to be, you want to future to unfold to follow some type of plan of vision of yours, and you're clinging onto it rigidly, and feeling highly disappointed when things inevitably don't turn out the way you expected. This in turn makes you feel fearful and stuck, unable to act in any meaningful way because you worry you're going to get things wrong once again and not end up with the desired result.

The message calls for being perseverant, but it also says to refresh the way you look at things. If you keep doing the same thing, you're not going to end up with a different result, but rather you'll keep going round in circle and feeling more and more disappointed. The way to go is forward, and how you can start doing that is by detaching yourself your rigid expectations of how things need to unfold in order to give room for inspiration that will strike randomly when something ignites it, which you are unable to see right now because you are so blinded. Yes you must remain active and initiate things, but you must do it from a different place. Not a place of ''everything is going wrong and I'm never doing the right thing'', but from a place of optimism and inspired actions. If you feel overwhelmed by fear, anger or insecurity; let it rest for a bit. Wait for excitement and a desire for adventure to rise into your chest to guide your steps, it will yield much better results.

[aheathen-conceivably]

Zelda knew the way to City Hall by heart. Week after week she had picked up Violette from school, staring at it across the street while admiring how its stately white columns reflected the sunlight like a mirror. Now, she was standing right in front of it, too nervous to move her feet but too restless to simply stand still anymore.

She looked down at the card in her hand once more, even though she knew every line from anxious fixation. Alexander Barnes, Librarian. Letting out a deep breath, she put the card in her pocket before walking into the building.

As she stepped inside the heavy wooden doors swung shut behind her. Immediately, the noise and heat from the courtyard became a distant memory. In front of her another set of doors were open wide to a simple courtroom, one she hadn’t seen in half a decade. Quietly, a myriad of emotions overcame her, bolstering her resolve as she realized that maybe this place was a nexus of new beginnings for her after all. 

A new sense of calm accompanied her as she followed a dim, sparsely furnished hallway to a closed door inscribed with a shining metal plate. Alexander Barnes, Librarian. She stood still for a moment, listening to see if anyone was inside before she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

A distracted voice told her to enter, and before she could second guess herself she turned the metal handle and walked through the door. The office was small, filled from one corner to the next with books and mismatched furniture that made her think the whole scene was moments away from bursting at the seams.

In the middle of it all sat a man at his desk, his glasses beginning to fall down the bridge of his nose as he stared diligently at a stack of papers in front of him. At the sound of her footsteps, his gaze bolted up and he seemed not to recognize her. Both of them looked at eachother with embarrassment, and Zelda nearly turned on her heels and walked back out the door.

She tried to muster an apology before leaving unceremoniously, but just as she gathered the courage to do so, a smile overtook the man’s face and he pointed familiarly in her direction. “Mrs. Duplanchier! You must forgive me. You’ve caught me in the middle of a letter that has taken just about every ounce of my concentration. And all of this - the office - I mean, well, it’s just a mess, I fear. Would you - do you want to sit?”

His voice trailed off as he looked around the room for a chair. Other than his own there was only one, tucked into the corner and covered with books. As he moved them onto the floor Zelda’s eyes wandered through the room. He had books on every surface, tucked onto shelves, in stacks on the floor, perched precariously at the edge of the desk. But as she watched him move them to make room for her, she could tell that they had all been stacked carefully and with love.

“Ah! Here you are,” he rounded the desk and sat across from her, allowing her eyes to finish searching every square inch of the space without pressing her with questions. Her gaze finally settled back on his, which was still looking at her curiously. It didn’t seem to throw off her words quite as much as most people’s did. “This is - it's quite a collection you have here. I often thought the books I’d managed to collect were noteworthy but this - this is just remarkable.”

His eyebrow lifted slightly. “Do you have a collection?”

Zelda laughed lightly, mostly to cover up the embarrassment that she felt anytime she talked about herself. “It feels a bit silly calling it that here, amongst something so impressive. It’s mostly just books I brought from home - from England, I mean, when I was a girl. But I’ve bought what I could over the years.”

“England! I thought I may have heard as much back at the truck. How did you possibly end up here?”

Her eyes trailed away from him slightly, roaming back to the stacks of books that were lining the walls. “Its a long story, I suppose. One infinitely less interesting than any selection of which you have here. May - may I ask you about them? The books, I mean. And the truck. All of it really, how any of this came to be.”

With an affirmative nod of his head Zelda began the litany of questions that had come to her mind over the weeks of waiting for this meeting. There was very little about his job that she didn't want to know. Where had the books come from? Where did he drive? Was someone pay him to do so? Where was he headed next?

He answered each question thoroughly and patiently, as though no one had taken the time to have such an interest in his work before. As she reached her last question, where was he headed next, he smiled widely and pushed his glasses up even higher on his nose. “Nowhere, hopefully. I’m working on a request for the Works Projects Administration to open a permanent location in Strangerville.”

Zelda’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “A - a real library, here? In Strangerville?” 

“That’s my hope. Of course there are competing proposals but I’ve been surveying the region and the town is perfect. With the Route running through it and the abandoned Queen Annes up the hill, it’s exactly what the Administration is looking for.”

He could easily read the look on her face, a mix of childish amazement and interest, and ventured further, “Listen, I - I unfortunately can’t promise anything; but if you have an interest in the project I will need a team. They’ll want a catalog of everything I’ve collected and a survey of potential locations. I should know who the grant is awarded to in five - maybe six days? I’ll write to you, if you’re interested.”

“Yes!” She answered so quickly that her anxiety barely had time to register what she was saying. “I - would love that.”

Previous / Next

[softtdaisy]

injury prompt 16 and 22 for reid perhaps... :D Love your writing btw <3

make my heart beat again / spencer reid

summary. spencer was sad. spencer was miserable. he thought he could handle it until he couldn't anymore. he thought he could deal with it alone until he couldn't.

words count. 2 249

prompt. “Why won’t you let me help you?” “…because I don’t deserve it.” / “You deserve to be helped, I—who told you this?” from here

what to expect. very angsty, spencer is so sad i want to hug him, i chose the mentally injured more than physically, mention of murder very quickly

a/n. ok first thank you so much for requesting it sweetie!! and i'm sorry, i wish i posted it sooner but i started it again to make it shorter and...it's not shorter, but it's here and i hope you will love it (and now i can work on your other request) 🫶

F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

You weren’t quite sure how everything started again with Spencer.

One day he was a memory of the past, one of your biggest regrets. The next time he was back in your place, like he always belonged there.

You went on a couple of dates a few years ago, and it would be a lie to say your heart didn’t fall for that boy. Sweet, gentle, the nicest man you’ve ever met. And so beautiful with his always so messy hair, his gorgeous brown eyes that always seemed to look at you like you were one of the seven wonders of the world, and that perfectly shaped mouth that you loved to kiss.

You were sure things could have worked out with Spencer if a) his work didn’t take him that much time—and more. b) You didn’t have other issues in your life you had to deal with before thinking about love.

So you ended your relationship, or whatever it was at that time, before it could be more serious. And you spent way too many nights missing Spencer Reid. 

The way he would start every date with a fact that could either last a minute or ten and how you could notice the change in his eyes when he noticed you were truly interested in what he was saying. How he was blushing at any physical contact you were initiating, even in bed after he made love to you. Or even how you never said you loved each other, yet the way his lips would stay longer on your shoulder when you were falling asleep was speaking for your feelings.

You never thought Spencer would miss you just as much.

But he spent months contemplating the idea of seeing you again and trying to convince you this could be good. That he could be good for you. But months turned into a year. And when he celebrated his whole single year on the other side of the country, Spencer read into it that maybe he had glorified love. In all its aspects.

And this conclusion haunted him for years.

To the point Spencer stopped meeting new people and was barely trying to stay in touch with those in his life. He wasn’t seeing his mom much; his colleagues noticed the distance he was building between them, and Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he saw his “friends.”

Because at some point, the fear of losing people turned into a feeling of not being good enough to people’s lives and made him a loner. A sad loner.

That was something you immediately noticed the first time you saw Spencer in years.

Your life has barely changed from your last date. Still the same job, but at a higher place. Still the same apartment, but with a different setting. Still the same person, but more mature.

It wasn’t hard for Spencer to find you. And if he spent a whole year contemplating going back to your place before putting that thought away, the day he truly needed it, it took him a minute to decide it was time.

You didn’t question his presence here when you opened the door. Maybe he should have. But when Spencer grabbed your face after you simply said his name with confusion, nothing seemed to matter. 

Not his hair longer than before, not him looking more shaped yet more fragile, not the circle under his eyes being way darker than the last time you saw him. Not that he was eagerly kissing you, something he never did.

You remember Spencer being gentle, taking his time to appreciate every second with you.

No, he was hungry, like each second could be the last with you. For him.

“What are you doing here, Spence?” you finally asked him. You were both lying on the rug in your living room. His eyes were locked on the roof, like he was disconnecting from reality. His arm around your back, holding you against him, was brushing your skin slowly, but he seemed to do that mindlessly. 

And Spencer didn’t turn his head to look at you when you, you couldn’t stop looking at him. “I needed that.” Not you. You put away the pain hearing that and tried to see the good in this, that you were the one he went to. 

But still, something was different with Spencer.

It would take you a few nights to realize he wasn’t blushing anymore when you touched him. Or that he didn’t seem to have a lot to talk about.

Actually, Spencer wasn’t talking much anymore. 

For weeks, Spencer would come to your place at night. Either after a day at the office or when he came back from a case. Usually, when it was the latter, he would even stay the following day to fully decompress from what happened.

You tried to question him once or twice. But Spencer always had the same answer: going down on you to keep you quiet with your question.

It was a win-win situation. 

He was giving you pleasure and making you think about something else.

He was concentrating on something else, and your moans were filling his head with other thoughts.

Until one night, the sex wasn’t enough to put his problem away.

You didn’t expect Spencer to come. Two days ago, he told you he had to leave for a case and it would probably last a week. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it gave you the time to think about him and where this was going.

Yet, your bell rang at 10 p.m. Let’s say that dating an FBI agent taught you to not open your door to anybody. You almost played dead and ignored it. But your gut told you to look at who it might be. 

You didn’t expect to see Spencer through your spyhole.

You certainly didn’t expect to see him cry on the other side of your door.

“Spencer, what’s going on?” you said, opening your door and immediately bringing him inside. The saddest part was that he let you do it. He didn’t stop you when you took him in your arms. Neither when you brought him to the sofa and sat him on it while you kneeled in front of him.

He was shaking; his face looked red from the tears and the scratching he did with his fingers, trying to take the pain away. But it didn’t work. And hurt him even more.

You grabbed one of his hands to take it away from his face. You tried to ease his joints with a soft caress. You even tried to make eye contact, but it was a lost cause with the way he was closing his eyes hardly, probably hurting himself like that. “Talk to me, Spence,” you whispered, putting your chin on his knee. “Open to me.”

You hated how he pinched his lips together before talking, like he was trying so hard to not break down. “I can’t,” he sobbed. He repeated that multiple times, sounding more angry with himself each time.

But the fact he wasn’t letting go of your hand made you believe that maybe a part of him, maybe just a very little one, wanted to have you. He still came to you tonight, right?

“Why won’t you let me help you?” 

This was a genuine question. One that grew over the last weeks. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night wondering which signs you might have missed when he was here. What did he try to hide from you with kisses and attention that you weren’t asking for? And if maybe you weren’t an accomplice of his troubles by accepting all his treats, knowing it was an excuse to keep everything from himself.

And during these moments, you imagined what Spencer might have answered. That he didn’t want his burden to impact your relationship, that he didn’t want to talk to you specifically. 

But you never considered what was coming as an answer.

“…because I don’t deserve it.” 

The world went silent. 

Except for your heart that just fell on the floor and broke into a million pieces.

Except for Spencer’s sorrow being louder than ever in your small living room.

It was obvious that Spencer wasn’t doing ok. But you couldn’t imagine how broken he really was.

You couldn’t force him to look at you and make him see he wasn’t alone at all. So you put your forehead against his, his sweaty hair sticking against your skin. Your arms wrapped against Spencer so you could hold him against him. You couldn’t believe that this grown-up man, in his thirty, could be a broken kid inside. You tried to hold back the tears.

You stayed like that for minutes; you don’t even know how long. This could last an hour or two if he needed to. You probably could have stayed all night if it meant calming Spencer down.

Little by little, you felt his shaking stop and even one of his hands land on your arm. The pressure of his fingers on your skin wasn’t harder, almost like he didn’t have any strength anymore. It was more like a delicate touch. One that reminded you of the old days, when Spencer was too shy to touch you.

Once you felt he was ready to hear this, maybe not listen yet but at least be able to understand what you were saying, you stopped hugging him so you could grab his face in your hands. “You deserve to be helped. I—who told you this?”

You met the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen at this moment. Couple with his sad smile. Oh, how you wished you could just kiss the pain away for once.

“I just…” he started, with a grazed, hoarse voice. “Every person in my life ends up sad or hurt or dead. I’m a problem. I’m a burden. I don’t deserve someone to take the time to help me, be there for me. I can’t risk someone, you, taking the time to make me feel better if it means losing you at some point. I can’t, I can’t do that again.” You heard the sob in his voice at the end. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Spencer gave you the look, one he strangely never gave to you but that you understood immediately, meaning that he still had a lot to say. And deep down, you were happy to shut it if it meant he was finally opening up.

“I was taking care of a kid these days. We knew he might be in danger, so I was supposed to make sure he would be fine while working the case.” Spencer took a moment to continue, but you could only focus on the tear running down his cheek. “He got killed. Because I couldn’t protect him. Everyone around me has something bad happening to them. Even in my job. How can I be such a bad person?” 

You started brushing away the tears with your thumb, but Spencer cuddled against your hand. There was something even sadder with this man feeling like he didn’t deserve to have someone yet still craving every attention he could get.

“You’re not a burden, Spencer,” you whispered, and he closed his eyes again. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to go through all these moments by yourself. I can’t imagine how hurt you must be from living such difficult times over and over again. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have someone by your side.”

He didn’t answer. You weren’t sure this was the best decision, but you sat on his knees, trying to be closer to him so you could make him feel less alone. 

You thought that if he didn’t want that, he would push you away. But the way Spencer's hands ended up on your back so quickly made you think that maybe he needed that too.

“I can’t and won’t force myself into your life, Spencer, never,” you said, brushing his hair away from his face. “But if you’re ready to try, I can be by your side and help you consider that you deserve to be a supporter. Not only by me but by all the people that love you.”

Again, your words working on him, Spencer opened his eyes slowly. This time, even if the sorrow was still present, there was the smallest and almost slightest light in them. “Because people love you, Spencer Reid.”

As an answer, the only one he could give you, Spencer brought you against him and hugged you as hard as he could. It wasn’t the tightest hug he ever gave, but it was the best he could do. And it was enough. Enough to know that you opened a door in his mind. 

You offered your bed to Spencer that night, but he insisted on you staying by your side. He refused to let you know it was due to the fear of the nightmares he had for months now. Nightmares that always had different stories but ended the same way: with him losing someone and being alone.

All he needed was you, and you were willing to give yourself entirely to help him get better.

You didn’t know if you imagined it, but you were sure that when he was falling asleep, holding you against him like an antistress comforter, Spencer thanked you.

[jewishpadmenaberrie]

ok so, im gonna start off by plugging the fic that i was inspired to write based on the video i'll be talking about because i deserve it, it was my very first one and i havent read it in a few years so idk how well yhe Writing holds up but youll love the premise im sure

now i want to talk about what happens to the body when we die. the first changes are immediate, i remember when my grandmother died she very quickly turned yellow and her skin sunk. it took under 5 minutes for her to look very much dead. padmè's body would have to be very well embalmed and made up and maybe even restored to look like that in its casket. the waxy smooth fingers especially come off as spectacularly embalmed.

i wont get into most of the stuff about how they embalm today and what a body would need after however many hours of nature taking its course, but if we take the films at face value she's 100% embalmed and not rotting anything like the average body.

now i'll link a very interesting video on the preservation and (consensual, its what her father wanted for her) display in a catacombs of rosalia lombardo, under the cut because her face is visible in the thumbnail and i know some people are sensitive, but you'll see she looks spectacular even over a hundred years later.

for people who dont want to watch this short video because they're creeped out by the thought of looking at even a preserved body; basically, she's an immaculately preserved corpse. she looks like shes just a little girl asleep, and this is the preservation of an entire corpse, organs and brain and all are intact inside of her, her eyes are still visibly blue at the right angle and in the right lighting, even her fluids werent drained. it was a completely new and "secret" thing at the time but we've figured it out now. everyone say thank you zinc salts. the reason she made the video was to address the way rosalias eyes seemed to open and close, which was in fact just a trick of the light (where i got the fic name) and not very interesting. her eyes are never fully closed so they seem to open during the right times of day when the light shines right, but i would highly suggest watching it because its interesting, informative, and fun. caitlin doughty makes a lot of good videos. ok thats enough babbling.

something something parallels between padmé’s sarcophagus and vader’s suit

[meetingthestarcatchers]

Crimson Lace (Part 4)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x fem!reader

Summary: You have trouble placing a finger on where you know him from, until he invites you in

Warnings: NSFW (18+ MDNI), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), mutual masterbation, praise (LOTS OF IT)

A/n: I'm aware it's taken me agesss to write this so I apologise profusely and hope enough people are still interested in it!

----------------------

You both worked solidly with small conversations in-between to talk about either the work or anything on either of your minds. Once you heard Jake's deep groan, you tore your eyes away from your screen to look at him, his head tilted towards the ceiling and his eyes closed. The sky outside the window had started to darken, allowing the light from his computer to illuminate his face; the way his long hair framed his face, and how his lips were parted slightly made your stomach flutter slightly. While you were absorbed in noticing the small details, you noticed his parted lips had curved upwards into a smile.

"I can feel you staring y'know" he said still smiling, and you flicked your eyes back to your screen as you felt a heat rise up to your cheeks. In your peripheral vision you saw him turn to look at you and then he noticed the time.

"You fancy anything for dinner?" he asked standing up and turning on the light before closing the blinds. You set your laptop on the floor next to the beanbag you were settled on.

"I don't mind at all, whatever you want" you said giving him a warm smile. He held out his hand and you took it, letting him pull you up. This caused you to be chest to chest with him, feeling his hands rest on your waist. Your breath hitched as his hands moved gracefully around your waist and down to grab slightly at your behind. You forced your face to remain neutral while looking into his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at your attempt to ignore his actions.

-------------------

"So good for me..." He muttered, his voice low and seductive. His hand moved in a mesmerizing way, maintaining a slow rhythm as your eyes were stuck admiring him. He moaned softly, his body arching slightly under his own touch, his eyes glanced at you intently as he indulged in the pleasure of your presence and your watch of him.

You thought back to your plan and smirked to yourself. It seemed like a good time to take action with it. As carefully and quietly as you could, you felt for the hem of your shirt and slowly lifted it up over your head, revealing a lace black bra underneath. When you looked back up at Jake, his gaze was fixed on you through hooded eyes. You quietly placed your shirt on the floor next to you and slowly worked on unclasping your bra, letting it fall off into your lap. Next came your trousers, proving the hardest to take off quietly.

----------------------

You were left sitting in the chair in just your panties and you took the opportunity to look at Jake, who's eyes were still stuck on the sight of you sat there with your legs spread ever so slightly. You could see Jake’s cheeks turn a crimson red at the sight of your bare chest and he bit his lip. Your hands roamed round your chest before squeezing your left breast softly and your other hand travelled excruciatingly slowly down your torso and into the matching black panties, making your mouth fall open as your circled your clit. Jake took the chance to run the tip of his thumb over the slit of his dick, making him moan quietly and his abdomen tense up. This gave you the perfect view of his subtle abs.

“That’s it gorgeous, open those legs for me and show me how good I make you feel” Jake muttered, his voice raspy and deep. His eyes remained locked on you, the sight of you relaxed in his chair, the way your hair fell behind your shoulders as your head leaned back, but most importantly, the way your fingers were circling your clit. His hand sped up ever so slightly which made his mouth fall open and he looked at you with challenging eyes, daring you to match his pace. Your lips spread into a small smirk and obliged with his request, the thoughts of him filling you with your legs over his shoulders made your stomach coil in pleasure. Jake turned his head towards the screen and read a few comments that were flooding through before moaning quietly.

“You feel so fucking good…so tight for me” he said, and you almost moaned loudly at the praise, but quickly stopped yourself. Despite Jake facing the camera, you knew the words he spoke ever so gently were meant for you and it made your heart swell in proud happiness. You allowed your middle finger to slowly glide down to your desperate hole, hovering over it and teasing it for a few seconds before giving in and pushing it inside you. Jake caught the movement and moaned, his eyes drifting over to you once again and staring at the sight of your pussy on show, now stretched around your finger.

“I’m gonna ruin you for anybody else, you understand? No one gets to fuck this pretty pussy except me” he demands and you nod silently, his dominant tone sending shocks to your core. Your eyes drifted down and watched his fist move up and down around his cock at a moderate pace and you pushed your index finger inside you as well, stretching you open even more. Your thoughts were plagued with the image of Jake’s fingers inside you, curling slightly and you sped up subconsciously. He caught wind of this and picked up his pace as well, drawing out a long groan from his chest, the coil inside his stomach beginning to stretch and tighten.

“Speed up for me gorgeous, want you to cum with me” his words ignited a fire in your core and you felt yourself get closer to the finish line. Jake’s hand started going at a quick speed, and you thought it only right to copy him, forcing yourself to hold back from finishing until he told you to.

“Atta girl, hold it for me…I’m so fucking close” he moaned and threw his head back in pleasure, biting his lip harshly. Like yours, his head was filled with explicit images until the image of you underneath him, eyes rolled back in your head, screaming his name was suddenly brought to the front of his mind, causing him to cum without warning. He drew out the pleasure for as long as possible, his stomach now covered in the white, sticky substance. Without speaking, Jake quickly ended the stream and turned towards you and looked at you with a straight face.

“You thought that was funny hm? Torturing me, knowing that I couldn’t do anything?” He asked you, and you nodded before he grabbed your wrist and forced you to stop. You felt the coil disappear and your lips turned downwards with an unhappy expression, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What’d you do that for?” You asked, pouting and he smirked and raised his eyebrows.

“Get on the bed. Now.” He told you with a serious expression. As you made your way onto the comfy sheets, he took the chance to wipe off the cum that had now dried a little with a few tissues and threw them into the bin after he was finished. He turned towards you and the corner of his lips lifted at the sight of you lying down comfortably on his bed.

“Luckily for you, I’m in a good mood and I’m gonna save the punishment for another day understood?” He said and you nodded. He made his way onto the bed and held himself above you, your faces several inches apart.

“What are you gonna do then?” You asked curiously and he smiled at you, and lifted his hand up to caress your cheek softly.

“I’m going to show you how good you make me feel, that alright with you?” He asked, wanting your consent and you nodded in response.

“That’s more than okay” you muttered and he smiled before leaning down and meeting your lips with a passionate kiss which you quickly responded to. Through the kiss, you felt a feather-like touch travel down your body and stop just before your clit, making you whine quietly into Jake’s mouth and he smiled and pulled away.

“Actually, you’re already stretched out enough…” he muttered and you nodded desperately, the need to have him inside you becoming more than you could bear. A small ‘please’ escaped your lips and he smiled and gave you a small kiss. He positioned himself at your entrance, lifting your legs and placing them both on his shoulders.

“Such a good girl using your manners” he praised and you let out a small moan at his words before you felt him push inside you, both yours and Jake’s moans filling the quiet air. A few curse words escaped his mouth and his hooded eyes met yours, looking for a silent confirmation to continue, in which you nodded and he smirked and began to move painstakingly slow.

“You feel so much better than I imagined. I’ve spent so many nights thinking about you and this tight fucking pussy stretching around me” Jake told you, starting to speed up, and you bit your lip, trying to quieten your moans but he quickly pulled your lip back out of your mouth and shook his head.

“Don’t you even dare, want to hear how good you feel” he said and you allowed yourself to moan loudly at the quickened speed. The room filled with the smell of sex and words of praise from Jake and you felt yourself relax and you never wanted to leave.

“I’m not gonna last long” you warned him and he shook his head and moaned before speaking.

“Neither am I, you feel too fucking good” he said. He began to speed up again even faster until he was pounding inside you, your body almost bent in half as he leant over you with your legs still on his shoulders. His hair fell around his face elegantly as you watched sweat start to form on his forehead, both of your moans getting louder as you both felt the coil build up and tighten. You clenched around him and he groaned into your ear before kissing your cheek softly, the action almost making you laugh from the contrast.

“I can feel you getting so close, I want you to cum around me…please” he begged, the dominant tone that he had adopted fading away and turning into a soft one instead. You nodded and focused on the pleasure that he was bringing you, you looked up and looked into his eyes, the feeling of him watching you, pushing you over the edge finally, forcing your mouth to fall open and your hands quickly found his back, scratching it. He groaned at the sight and forced himself to hold back from finishing inside you. He slowed down the speed once he felt yourself relax and come back around before pulling out and wrapping a hand around his dick and quickly finishing over your stomach.

The room was suddenly filled with quiet panting as Jake fell down and laid next to you, eyes closing in pleasure. After a couple moments had gone by, he turned his head to face you and you did the same, smiling at each other contented. He brought a hand up to gently stroke your cheek and your eyes fluttered shut at the touch. He soon got up and went to grab a couple tissues and a warm, wet flannel to clean you up. The sensation of the flannel on your sensitive clit caused you to shiver and he brushed his thumb over the inside of your thigh.

“Just a few more seconds angel…” he spoke quietly, reassuring you. Once he was finished, you heard the tissues being thrown in the bin and the flannel was dropped on the floor, a job to be dealt with in the morning. The bed dipped beside you and you opened your eyes to be met with the sight of Jake’s open arms, inviting you closer towards him. You cuddled up to him, the heat from his body warming you immediately and felt a soft kiss on the crown of your head. No more wards were spoken except quiet ‘goodnights’ muttered into the darkness. You smiled and allowed your body to relax and your eyes to close as you felt yourself drift off into a peaceful slumber in the arms of Jake.

—————————————————————————————

taglist: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @ignite-my-fire @gretasfallingsky @sanguinebats @literal-dead-leaf @jakeygvf21 @freefallthoughts @threadofstars @samssymmetricalstache @mackalah @fleets-world @gvfpal @klarxtr @welllauragvf @stardustjake @i-love-gvf @spark-my-nature @itsafullmoon @hellowgoodbye @gvfmarge @dannys-dream @edgingthedarkness @wetkleenex-gvf @interstellar-shores @heckingfrick @torniturntomyarrow @peaceloveunitygvf @jaketsguitar @lyndz2names @mama-likes72 @musicislove3389

Here's the taglist if you want to join!

[coimbrabertone]

Offtopic Offseason #5 - CoimbraBertone and the Indiana Jones Blogpost.

So, I watched the first three Indiana Jones movies for the first time these last few weeks. Those being Raiders of the Lost Ark, Temple of Doom, and The Last Crusade. Also, before that, I was watching my friend Andy play through the video game, Indiana Jones and the Great Circle. I have thoughts.

Plus, the Super Bowl was last weekend and that's kinda an unavoidable black hole devouring anything else that could've happened that weekend, so there isn't much racing news to discuss right now.

Indycar aired some commercials during it which hopefully draw people in, but until we get to St. Pete for the first race, it's hard to say how effective they were.

So, onto Indiana Jones.

I liked them. Raiders of the Lost Ark and Last Crusade are both great movies, Temple of Doom isn't as good, but it still has plenty of iconic moments and I enjoyed it well enough.

My first impression was honestly...wow, I've seen so much references to this stuff. Like there were moments I knew were from Indiana Jones, like the giant boulder chasing Indy, opening the Ark and it melting the Nazi faces, and the minecart chase from Temple, but there other things I didn't realize.

Like in Family Guy, Road to Germany, they do the whole escape the plane in a raft thing, with Stewie even making fun of one of Willie's lines. I didn't know that was from Indiana Jones. The motorcycle chase in that episode is probably a reference to Last Crusade as well, albeit a bit less 1 to 1.

So yeah, iconic movies that I've seen referenced a lot, and now I finally understand those references.

So, Raiders of the Lost Ark...

I liked Belloq as a villain. His Egypt clothes with the way his hair looked kept making me think of Alain Prost even though objectively he doesn't look all that much like Prost, but there's where my brain went. I like that he's a different kind of evil than the Nazis around him - he doesn't have a cause, he's just self-interested and wants to get one over on Jones - but he is still very much evil.

Toht is another fun character because he's just so ridiculous. The coat hanger scene made me burst out laughing.

Colonel Dietrich is probably the flattest of the villains, but I get that they needed more of a straight-up Wehrmacht guy to be the direct threat that neither Belloq nor Toht could really be.

As for the heroic characters, I have to admit, with everything I heard about Marion from watching the game and reading up on the movies a bit, she is not at all what I was expecting. For some reason I kinda thought she was gonna be a non-action rich girl who is the daughter of a rich gentleman type - and in fairness, Ravenwood does seem like it would be an old money name - but instead she's a lot more of a rougher and more confrontational character.

And I suppose that is more interesting.

Sallah's fun, John-Rhys Davies has a great voice, and I was happy to see him back in Last Crusade.

Some of the effects are very dated and the sounds - especially the punch sounds - are as well, but it's an old movie so what are you gonna do? I accepted that as a relic of the time and enjoyed the movie in spite of that.

Something dated that's a bit harder to forgive is Temple of Doom.

Let's start with the positives: Lao Che's club is a lot of fun. I think his club is a reused set from Return of the Jedi because with how white and smooth it is, along with the seating bowl we see in one of the shots, it reminds me a lot of the Mon Calamari cruises from Episode VI. I could be wrong about that, but they were filmed a year apart and Lucas literally named it Club Obi-Wan, so I wouldn't be surprised at all if the whole thing is a redressed Star Wars set.

Willie's a bit grating. There's no way around that, I'm sorry.

Short Round though...yeah, he has a few annoying moments, but I actually found him endearing. The ways that he looks up and mimics Indy - sorry, Dr. Jones - are fun, and it's nice to see Indy cares about him too.

The portrayal of India though...oof.

Spielberg and Lucas have apparently said that the whole dinner scene with the eels and eyeballs and monkey brains and all that is supposed to be a ploy to scare off Indy and the British officer dude, but...they did not do a good job of conveying that at all. It just feels like over the top orientalism.

Same thing with the Thuggee cult in general. Mola Ram's costume is all over the place and with his skull helmet off, that red paint on his forehead feels a lot more like the other type of Indian. It's like a storm of foreign culture cliches thrown together at random and it's pretty damn jarring. They even got the Maharaja torturing Indy with a voodoo doll which...okay then, I guess we really are just throwing anything and everything at this, huh?

From what I understand their portrayal of Kali is also completely off.

There's also a lot of brown face in that movie. The late Pat Roach was playing the slavemaster, for instance.

Then making the British Army show up at the end to save Indy & co...sheesh. No wonder this movie got banned in India for awhile.

Still, if you can get past all that and see it as a product of its time, it's a fun enough movie. It's the weakest of the trilogy though.

Onto Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Harrison Ford and Sean Connery, what else do you need?

No seriously, that's it. It's good, watch it.

...

...

...

Okay fine, I'll talk about it.

I like this one a lot. I know Raiders is the classic one that everyone loves, but this one might be my favorite.

Venice, Austria, Berlin, Antioch, down to Petra in Jordan...it's a lot of fun set locations and set pieces. I really enjoyed Elsa as the "Indy girl" of this movie, I really enjoyed the banter back and forth between Henry Sr. and Indiana, and I think the Nazis in this movie are just great antagonists.

They look evil as fuck, they have the Hugo Boss fit on fleek, Vogel is a great villain, the modified World War I tank was a great set piece, and we have plenty of old car porn in this one - particularly the old Rolls Royce, which is not, in fact, a Phantom II - so what's not to like?

Well, Donovan probably goes down a bit too easy. I know that these movies are big on the whole villains are destroyed for trying to harness a power they cannot understand, but he does die pretty quickly and pretty stupidly. I guess the Vogel fight was pretty long, so a long Donovan fight probably would've bogged the ending down a lot, but it was a bit disappointing to see him easily duped into killing himself.

Elsa's end, meanwhile, i thought was fitting. She couldn't let go of her obsession, and in the end, the grail's spell got to her. It almost got to Indy too, but then Henry gave him the fatherly love which is what he really wanted. And yeah, that's a bit schlocky, but who cares? it's nice and meaningful.

So yeah, none of them are perfect movies, but I enjoyed them a lot.

The Great Circle fits in among the movies quite nicely, I think. Gina fits as another "Indy girl" and is probably my favorite when adding her in to the classic movies, and Troy Baker does such a great job as Indy that even Harrison Ford gave him his blessing.

Plus ending on karate fighting a Nazi on the top of Noah's Ark is exactly the type of goofy shit these movies would come up with and I mean that in the best way possible.

Oh, one other thing I wanted to yap about: there are a lot of scenes in these movies where the guns are very clearly not firing anything, and again, I get it, old movie, but wow, sometimes it's really obvious. There was a bit in Last Crusade where Indy thrashed around an MP40 that wasn't doing anything, and it straight up took me a second to realize they were trying to show him shooting.

Old movies gonna old movie.

I'm gonna watch the next two movies soon, probably this week, but from what I hear, they're not quite up to snuff. Let me know if you guys want my thoughts, otherwise, this is probably gonna be the last Offtopic Offseason for awhile because it's the Daytona 500 this weekend. They'll be a NASCAR race every weekend from now until November, and once NASCAR starts, the likes of MotoGP, F1, and Indycar aren't far behind.

Looking forward to the Henry Jones Jr.polis 500.

[sanguinesky-if]

Hello you wonderful author you!

Have you made a poll on the popularity of the ROs? I have difficulty deciding my favorite and it seems to change every playthrough I read. 😅

That said, I do have a preference for the gentle and kind, so L and I are probably the most attractive to me. I feel I is probably the least talked about, and often on your Patreon they are the last in the votes for content (Still waiting for their NSFW-alphabet!) Do you expect them to rise in popularity after we learn about them? I feel they are the most mysterious RO at the moment in that they seem se reserved and seem to fall to the sidelines with the more extreme personalities like the condecending and rude R, or the flamboyant T. L has the friends to lovers trope going for them, S is the flirt with the no-strings-attached and K a prickly boss with a vurneable and a soft core. I was wondering if I has a sort of "trope" for them?

Hope you have a wonderful day! ❤️

Have you made a poll on the popularity of the ROs?

Hello! No, I haven't, and I'm not sure I want to make one, since all the ROs share the top spot for me.

Plus, the Patreon polls give me enough insight into which ROs are currently the most popular.

Do you expect them to rise in popularity after we learn about them?

I'm not sure. Every time I expect the RO to disappoint some readers after some of their more questionable traits are revealed, it somehow has the opposite effect, so it seems like my compass in this regard is a bit broken. 😅

To answer specifically about I's alphabet, I can tell that it will definitely fall into the "it's easier to understand them a little better by having sex than a conversation" category before they actually open up.

To give the most honest answer, I don't expect I to be the first or even the second choice for most readers. But for those who do choose them, I intend to make their route worth patience and will work hard on my writing for it to feel truly rewarding in every possible sense of the word.

they seem se reserved and seem to fall to the sidelines with the more extreme personalities like the condecending and rude R, or the flamboyant T.

I'm glad if it feels this way, and I is comfortable with that role and often uses it to their advantage very effectively.

I've also noticed that some readers [especially those who are suspicious of everything] immediately single I out among the other ROs for that reason, which I find very... interesting.

But it also makes me happy because I love when readers question everything [and they are right to do so].

I was wondering if I has a sort of "trope" for them?

I've never thought of any of the ROs as tropes when I created them or when I write moments with them [even if some can be classified as one], because the layers they each have make me think of them and feel them as real people, so my answer is no.

Thank you for the interesting questions! I hope my answers make sense, and I wish you a wonderful day as well! 🥰

[johanna-swann]

I still wanna know at what point Tommy became "interested" in Buck because I've tried to narrow it down to a precise moment, but it does not make any sense.

So they met during the cruise ship rescue after which some of them in which ever combination exchanged numbers. Then Tommy befriended Eddie and invited him on a private flight to Vegas and got them great tickets to a fight that had been sold out for a while. Just the two of them. Which is an insane thing to do for someone you've only known for a few days and aren't close to at all tbh.

In the meantime Buck reached out to Tommy for the tour which went well, but I want to emphasise again that Buck initiated this and Tommy gave Buck a rain check on those beers without trying to figure out when their schedules might line up next. I mean. If at that point Tommy had already been interested, really interested, he'd either have tried to find a suitable date then and there or he would've reached out to Buck in the next couple of days after the tour.

He didn't reach out to Buck at all. (If he had Buck would've been less panicked about being excluded.) Tommy and Eddie kept hanging out after that though and neither of them at any point thought: "You know what, since we all met at the same time we could also invite Buck along." Not before Buck was aware of all their hangouts, not after.

All that makes sense from Eddie's point of view because he's already Buck's best friend. They see each other all the time (they didn't spend much time together outside of work during the week(s) in question, but they still saw each other for hours and hours at work), Eddie knows Buck doesn't care about cars and mma and basketball. He got caught up in meeting a new friend who he can do hobbies with and that's that.

And Buck himself didn't know what was going on period, he didn't know he liked Tommy, he didn't know why it bothered him so much that Tommy invited Eddie to all those activities yet still hadn't got back to him about those beers. He was absolutely clueless.

But what was up with Tommy here? He knew Buck wanted to spend more time with him. We also know Tommy's not usually shy about getting to know and inviting out new people because he did exactly that with Eddie. (It can't have all been initiated by Eddie; Tommy flew them, Tommy got the tickets, Tommy has the garage/muay thai set-up, Tommy has this karaoke trivia thing.) We know he's not shy about making his romantic interests known, he kissed Buck as soon as he suspected Buck might like him and almost in the same breath asked him out on a date. Where was that initiative between the cruise ship rescue and the basketball incident?

Because the only explanation that makes sense to me is that Tommy didn't really notice Buck at first. Buck did not leave a lasting impression during their first two meetings. Tommy also got caught up in the shiny new friendship with Eddie and only belatedly realised: "Wait, that other guy also exists." It was only the conversation and kiss in Buck's loft that opened his eyes to the fact that Buck actually seems like an interesting guy, too. Why else would he have basically ignored Buck yet hung out with Eddie every opportunity he got?

(Maybe, fair enough, Tommy wanted to play it cool and wait a few more days before he texted Buck after the tour. But he did nail down that dinner date immediately after the kiss and the date was only two days later. That doesn't scream "playing it cool by stalling a little".)

So yes, my theory is that he was not that into Buck at first (maybe he thought Buck was cute or whatever, but he wasn't instantly smitten or anything). I wonder what about Buck in that kitchen scene it was that eventually made him think "this one, I wann get to know this one".

(Personally I think it was the way Buck was open about his emotions. He openly admitted how he got jealous and that the basketball incident was on him, he put himself out there about wanting to get to know Tommy and he was embarrassed, but not ashamed about any of it. If Eddie and Tommy clicked because of their similarities, Buck caught Tommy's attention by being different. Tommy often plays his cards close to his chest to keep that image of the cool guy alive, Buck just put all his cards on the table in that loft. I think Tommy admired that. Didn't necessarily understand it, but it pulled him in.)

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

medialog january 2k25

books

ling ma, severance - first book of the year an unfortunate dud! the most notable thing about this book is that it’s a pandemic story published in 2018, but this is also true of carmen maria machado’s “inventory” which is a much better story at like 15% of the length. by chance literally the day after i started reading this brandon taylor sent out a newsletter talking about first person narration devoid of interiority, which allowed me to be like, yes, that! that’s what’s so fucking annoying about this! a first person narrative that feels like a list of stuff that happened, instead of a glimpse into someone else’s consciousness. and i knooooow people would say that’s the poiiiint because the book is reeeeally about late capitalist anomie or whatever, which would also be used to explain the fact that the narrator has no personality or emotional life, like she’s just so disaffected and detached and blah blah blah, but the theoretical justification for this mode doesn’t have any bearing on the visceral fact that i just at no point cared about anyone in this story, because it’s impossible to care about a narrator who doesn’t care about anything or act like a human being (a species that famously cares about things lol). might also be impossible to care about a narrator with a trust fund… open to having my mind changed on this one though. other complaints: prose clunky, nobody else in this book has a personality either, palpably convinced of its own interest and importance in a way that feels very Litfic Does Genre Trope Without Wondering If Any Genre Writers Have Thought About This At All Ever (zombies as capitalist metaphor is like... even i know that and i hate zombie shit!) the pandemic stuff closest to being interesting but the page count is unforgivably focused on 1 million backstory flashback chapters totally divorced from the present day because god forbid someone who wants to tell an immigrant narrative figure out a way to somehow integrate this into the actual plot of their book or otherwise develop a character through scene and action… truly this reads like someone was trying to write an autobiographical novel and realized they couldn’t make it interesting/saleable so they chucked a pandemic narrative at it to capitalize on the twenty-first century genre turn. i don’t know if that’s what happened… but that is how poorly the disparate threads are woven together.

miranda popkey, topics of conversation - really liked this! like it more the more i sit with it. i had it already and it happens to get mentioned in that taylor newsletter i mentioned as being a different kind of first-person narrator, so i read it figuring at least it wouldn’t annoy me in the same way as severance. i was a little skeptical at first for two reasons: (1) the book is told through a series of conversations across a long span of years, which i was worried was a cheat to avoid having a plot; (2) early on lots of women and sex and power stuff, which is dangerous territory re: potential to irritate me. but it won me over on the second point quickly by undercutting what it had seemed to be doing in a refreshing way near the end of the first chapter, and by the end i was ready to concede point (1) because it had done a very good job of telling a story beneath the story it was telling; more than once i was kind of rolling my eyes like, okay, but, really?, only to find a little while later the book addressing precisely what had been my concern, which made me feel like i had been pleasantly tricked. the prose is unshowy but very self-assured with a good ear, and a few lines/passages burrowed under my skin. the narrator is self-critical without being self-indulgent… idk, it threaded a number of needles very well. impressed and pleased.

myriam gurba, mean - another one i started out wobbly on and wound up liking a lot. in this case, the cover/what i’d heard led me to expect a different, darker, tone than i found, and i wasn’t sure i was on board; funnily enough, at one point i thought, disparagingly, “eh, kinda zine-y,” and then something clicked and i remembered wait, i like zine-y, and that let me recalibrate and get sucked in. mean is a memoir, more or less, opening with a description of a rape-murder in gurba’s hometown and then switching gears to become a coming-of-age story in vignettes, with the reason for the opening scene eventually coming clear in a way that made me really admire what the book was doing formally as a way to talk about sexual assault; i was also reminded of the absolutely true diary of a part-time indian, a book i loved, both for its form and for, to some extent, its tone, or its willingness to combine a light touch and a sense of humor with some dark-ass material (although mean is not YA and goes much darker in both content and expression) & often incisive racial commentary. gurba is a really playful, funny, curious writer, and while i think she could have killed a few darlings, by the end her voice had really won me over. she is not opposed to pushing hard on the bounds of good taste, and i would say that most of the time i was with her because she was either honestly capturing the sociopathic awfulness of teenagers, including her own teenage self (people who self-righteously respond “well i actually never laughed at XYZ in high school…” this book is not for you and also you are annoying, and i say this as someone known in high school as a bit of a PC scold myself!), or else, for example, making jokes about her own sexual assault or other issues, and then there were some times where, like… ok maybe an illustrative example is that i saw a goodreads review that was like “i was loving this book until she used touretted as a verb, my condition is not a cute joke,” and i was like, on the one hand, i get it, but on the other hand, the prison rape joke didn’t phase you? the holocaust joke? (holocaust joke distinct from the chapter about how reading the diary of anne frank made her horny btw.) so… on that score tolerance will reasonably vary lol. given that a fair amount of the back half of the book is in fact about the aftermath of sexual assault, i really admired how the book refused any kind of redemptive arc, landing on a brutal note, but also avoided feeling oppressively downbeat by virtue of the ferocity of its own telling, which stands as its own proof of survival.

elaine castillo, how to read now: essays - not for me. none of the ideas here felt new if you’ve ever spent more than five minutes considering the relationship between art, race, & politics, and i didn’t feel like they were ever explored at a depth beyond (or… even equal to?) that which i would find on a random tuesday scrolling my tumblr dash. elegance of expression can be its own justification but stylistically this book mostly just convinced me that books are not blogs and should not sound like the internet; the lack of discipline which can be a feature in internet writing (not always! but can be) is always a bug in print (or, at least, i haven’t encountered the book to convince me otherwise). i was excited that the title of the first essay was “reading teaches empathy and other fictions” but then instead of unpacking the cultural ideology that associates any kind of moral education with leisure pursuits at all it was mostly about how the white straight male story is granted universality but others are not, which… you perhaps see what i mean about how this will not be revelatory for those of us enrolled in the continuing ed program at supernatural dot edu slash tumblr dot html. there’s a weird essay about going to new zealand and being like “wow imagine if native relationships were this good in the US?” which i found weirdly uncomfortable to read from an american who by her own admission is not well-versed in that region’s history. she opens an essay by being like “i know it’s basically boring to talk about how you hate joan didion” and then spends 45 pages doing that (including what i think is a misread of at least the tone of didion’s comment that writing is the act of a bully - i’m not a didionhead and would never defend her famously terrible politics, but a) she is i think pretty clearly being both hyperbolic and self-deprecating b) castillo takes this as the chance to be like “well i write to be vulnerable and connect,” which… perhaps this is self-indulgent self-deprecation on my own part but i have an instinctive and strong aversion to writers hyping up their own reasons for writing, lol c) this is objectively not a stance exclusive to white ladies bc zadie smith once said essentially the same thing except i think she used the word sociopathic lol)... and then in the end notes of that chapter she drops a casual rec for the “excellent” show our flag means death which… girl, be serious… you’re gonna write 300 pages about the dangers of reading without context and then simp for the slaveholder RPF show with no commentary whatsoever? it’s fine to like that show btw i might watch it myself one of these days but it’s just deranged to drop this without qualifiers in a book allegedly against the act of eliding historical reality for the sake of aesthetic pleasure and comforting fantasy! she also does two things that are unfortunately guaranteed to make me, personally, insane (characterizing damon lindelof’s HBO watchmen as an important statement on race in america and being kinda wrong about the odyssey) which i will address below the cut at the bottom of this post because i understand that my own need to talk about them is the result of my bad personality and also this is long enough already.

movies

no - this is a 2012 movie about the plebiscite vote that ended the pinochet reign, starring gael garcia bernal as the young ad guy the leftists rope in to helping them make the best use of their allotted 15 minutes of TV time. i really loved this, for a few reasons. first, an interestingly and well-made movie; the director is the guy who did spencer, which i hated, and i don’t know if it’s a matter of directing in spanish or what but it felt like two totally different worlds. second, some extremely funny and perhaps broadly relevant commentary on the purity-strategy tension in leftist spaces; i particularly loved the scene where our protagonist unveils the logo and the leftists are like, “oh, and the different colors of the rainbow represent the factions of the leftist coalition coming together, right?” and he’s like “uh huh. yeah. totes.” third, there’s a matter-of-factness to the way the movie depicts living in a military dictatorship — depicts oppression, depicts military violence against civilians — that felt refreshing and, ummm…. very un-American. perhaps very latin american. but certainly very un-American. something really fucked up happens and it feels bad and then you go home and play trains with your kid and you maybe don’t expect that everyone is spending 8 hours a day wringing your hands about How Is Anyone To Live Now. fortuitous timing for me personally maybe to watch this on new year’s day 2025. also gael garcia bernal is always the only guy in the scene wearing jeans and rides his skateboard everywhere. strong rec.

the shop around the corner - the philadelphia story baby jimmy stewart pilled me so bad that when i learned this both starred baby jimmy stewart and was directed by ernst lubitsch i was like, wow i GOTTA see that. two coworkers hate each other while falling for the anonymous correspondents that are, of course, each other all along… this does a couple things that mitigate the screwball romcom gender politics problem, my favorite of which is introducing the female lead in a scene that highlights her smarts and competence, which is important in a love story about a meeting of the minds. has superb production design, lighting so good even i was like “wow the lighting,” a great ensemble cast given a good amount to do in a way that makes the whole movie feel really suffused with tenderness and care even amidst all the screwball prickliness, and most importantly some incredibly funny jokes.

one way or another (todo modo) - this is a really weird italian 70s thriller whose plot is largely incomprehensible if you are not conversant in italian party politics of the 70s, which i am not, but it was still worth watching for the unbelievable Catholicism Is So Fucked Up vibes… the whole movie takes place in a catholic spirituality retreat packed with power-players, largely underground in the spookiest ass rooms imaginable… there’s a ruthless priest and a million political freaks… and then people start dying… kinda conclave meets and then there were none meets glass onion? tbh sassier and bitchier and more honest about institutional catholicism than conclave!

a complete unknown - most of the non-singing parts of this movie are Fine, I Guess, If You Like Biopics; some are pretty bad (why does this movie hate alan lomax so much… to say nothing of the women, through no fault of the two actresses doing their damned best…). the cast is reliably good, i was worried at first timmy was going to be giving SNL sketch the whole time but something shifted and he won me over and i thought he was good and especially that he was very funny in the too-rare moments the movie found itself a sense of humor, mostly on the topic of bob dylan being a weird freak pathological liar with no social skills or interest in developing them (valid and should have taken up way more of the runtime than it did!!!). lots of people have complained about how much of this movie is just watching bob dylan write down lines while playing his guitar but i actually think this is even worse than people are saying because what it does is almost entirely obscure dylan’s voracious cultural appetite and eclectic influences, which is a huge part of what makes him the artist of he is, and which he himself is the first to own (chronicles volume 1 — of 1 lmao — is in my memory almost entirely dylan talking about what he was reading and listening to and watching as a young person). however the reality is that none of this really matters to the viewing experience of the movie because the movie smartly understands it’s not going to be better at making a movie than bob dylan is at making songs, so it just never makes you wait very long before the next time bob dylan is playing a bob dylan song, and if you are a certain kind of person for whom the music of bob dylan has a certain kind of effect — which i am — what happens is that the opening notes of one of the best songs in american music history starts up and all cares over “screenwriting” and “gender” and such things fall away and you just sit there in a haze so grateful to live in a world where bob dylan gave us “girl from north country.” also, credit where credit is due: the movie looks very good, in a very standard hollywood way but well that’s a dying art it seems. i liked all the lens flares in the night scenes! they were pretty and evocative without being distracting!

juror #2 - i love watching a movie about people talking about a process while i wash dishes. bonus points for this one because of my wrongful convictions thing — i found it genuinely a relief to watch a courtroom drama in which we know the whole time that the logic of the court seems persuasive to many people but is wholly wrong. nicholas hoult!

jay and silent bob reboot - this is an objectively pretty bad and at times genuinely offensive movie that made me laugh so, so much. im sorry

presence - i was absolutely never not going to love a soderbergh ghost story; i like that it’s less a horror movie and more a family drama from the perspective of the ghost, and i like that steven soderbergh, who i first started feeling interested in because of how unusually willing he is (among our A-tier dude directors) to view women as potential protagonists, made a movie largely about a sad lonely teenage girl. camera work on the ghost POV very cool and for me very effective. a tight 85 minutes! they shot it in 11 days! i love you steven!

nosferatu - already said this was a miss for me, and the more i think about it the more i feel reasonably sure that it would have been even if i were not so dracula-pilled… idk. i agree with my anon who called it cold. there’s a fundamental distance between the storyteller and the story that, again, was part of what i enjoyed about the lighthouse, but just doesn’t work for me with a more traditional, more visceral (in multiple senses) tale. similarly to the line about how there can’t be an anti war war movie, because you can’t portray combat without glorifying it, i sorta feel like maybe you can’t tell a story where you want credit for giving your abused and disbelieved female protagonist agency and also have multiple scenes that are like, “ok now do the crazy possessed horror chick thing” lol. i also thought it looked kinda bad in parts and really muddy in all the moonlight scenes but i did see one review on lbxd that was basically like “this movie only looks good in IMAX bc regular theaters can’t get the blacks deep enough” so… maybe that’s true. on the bright side: nicholas hoult!

music

kendrick lamar, gnx - this thing happens to me often with music where anything presented as A Big Deal i have a hard time listening to because i keep being like no it’s not the right time… this is why for example i have never listened to a mitski album and also why until now i had never heard kendrick outside of his features with taylor (bad, not his fault) and the lonely island (p. good) and, ofc, not like us. but “squabble up” came up at the singles jukebox and i got really into one of the slant-rhyme runs near the end and the general personality of his flow so i decided to check out the album and would you believe? kendrick lamar, good at rapping. i like how this album is like kind of about having a god complex and sort of knowing you’re being crazy but also what if actually you kind of mean it? (people get mad if you say this kind of thing so don’t tell anyone but it’s actually similar to the pose i enjoy taylor striking on some of the wilder moments on TTPD, lol.)

girl pusher, gaslight gatekeep girlpusher - 20 minutes of very of-the-moment hardcore-adjacent punk, mostly too hardcore for me (literally, i don’t like music that’s all screamy) but the 3 songs that aren’t are real bangers.

ghoulies, shafted by the algorithm - 20 minutes of bright synthy punk where i have no idea what anyone is saying, kind of like matt and kim with less abrasive vocals? (remember matt & kim??? no? bc i’m old? well ok). not an album i’ll return you but i liked the vibe enough to chuck the whole thing onto my 2k25 rolling faves list and have been enjoying the occasional 2-minute infusions of pep!

underscores, wallsocket (director’s cut) - really impressed by this one, and also really enjoyed it. i keep seeing people call underscores hyperpop but either their earlier work (which i haven’t heard) is very different or i just don’t actually know what hyperpop is (very possible). to me it’s giving aughts indie, maybe a little emo but like the bright eyes kind, it’s giving saddle creek but made by a kesha fan. (does anyone else feel like we’re really in a post-kesha era in a way that is not being appreciated…) catchy, inventive, varied but cohesive, angry and funny, political & personal in the lyrics, sometimes at the same time. there’s a song called “johnny johnny johnny” which is an incredible banger about being groomed by an internet predator in middle school that really blew me away; would also rec “cops and robbers” just because it slaps. but even the quiet songs are good!

rosie gray, louder, please - flawless and sometimes even kind of interesting (although never that interesting) dance-infused pop (pop-infused dance? i think the first one but i’m no expert). pretty, fun, sometimes endearingly unsubtle — there’s a song literally called “party people” and another one where the refrain is “the best things in life are free,” also one called “switch” that rhymes “positions” with “submission.” dumb but thoughtfully and expensively so (or so it sounds, which is what counts). the way that people talk about feeling when they watch influencers swanning poolside in ibiza or whatever, that’s what listening to this album makes me feel like. vicarious luxury and all i need is a pair of headphones. another one where i don’t anticipate returning to the album as an album much but i rarely hit skip when a track shuffles my way.

zora, BELLAdonna - yoooooo this album FUCKS, like, SEVERELY!!!!!! saw someone rec this saying it was framed as a black trans revenge fantasy, which, i’ll be honest, turned out to have absolutely no bearing my listening experience whatsoever, but i am dutifully repeating because maybe you, too, will be intrigued enough to listen, and then discover that this album has BOPS. i am not really up to the task of describing this one — rap/hip-hop forward but with glimpses of both r&b and a pop (maybe even hyperpop?) sensibility, obviously broad in its influences (there are at least two likely refs to bodak yellow lol) while sounding like the clear work of a distinct voice, retro and futuristic by turns or sometimes at the same time. sounds really really cool and really really fun. sick flow, sick beats, a song called “sick sex”... strong strong overall rec here, this album rules.

single of the year so far is "IT girl" by jade (from little mix!!!) btw. if you care. really delivering on always low-key being the most interesting of the quartet in what she's put out so far, not all of it is my thing but she has a Vision and IT girl is a certified bop... really curious about where she goes next.

okay so petty grudge-holding below the cut:

first, the watchmen thing. to start with, she drops in the intro that she admires HBO watchmen, and like, did this alone make me read the entire book less generously than i otherwise might have? entirely possible. that is me owning my positionality as a reader. anyway. mostly here i just want to say that she specifically discusses the fucking 1922 movie about a black hero saving a grateful white crowd that made me the joker and drops that the name of the hero is “historically accurate” because he’s named for the first black marshal in oklahoma or whatever, which, ok. cute, i guess, if i didn’t hate this. what i hate, and what is not historically accurate, is: the existence of a film in 1922 (7 years after birth of a nation!!!!!) with a portrayal of american race relations that looks anything at all like the one in this movie. i mean it’s just crazy. and i find it first of all just inane because if you’re capable of writing this scene and thinking it feels plausible, you by definition do not have a good handle on the history of antiblack racism in america or how deeply it has resided at the core of american popular culture (among other things), and second of all genuinely kind of offensive because of the smash cut to Real Historical Atrocity that follows, underscoring the alleged “realism” of the scene. and it is insane to me to praise this scene for its “historically accurate” detail in a book, again, largely about the importance of bringing an understanding of historical context to your reading. it makes the author look a little bit like she only means that for stuff she already happens to know about or saw someone else talk about online. lol.

also the essay starts out being like “another day another jkr twitter meltdown” which does not help with the sense that these essays were blog posts that did not get sufficiently cleaned up for publication (is that true? idk. it’s how it reads though!). and it’s called “the limits of white fantasy” (but then is largely about how HBO watchmen is good lmao) and has a thing like “well rightwing types can appropriate symbols from harry potter and the hunger games and wherever else because those authors never cared about oppression they were just interested in its trappings.” first of all, leave my girl suzanne collins, cashing her checks blissfully offline, out of this. but second of all i actually think this is a substantively wrong diagnosis. jkr very, very, very obviously and sincerely cares about oppression. she is just catastrophically wrong about who is oppressing whom! but it’s extremely clear she thinks of herself as an actual victim of the actual injustice (in her head) of the woke trans mob or whatever. ditto antivaxxers using hunger games cues or whatever. they sincerely believe their rights are being infringed upon. sometimes people are actually wrong! sometimes people care a lot about morality and justice and are wrong about what those things are! i think this is in general harder for people to contend with than the idea that anyone engaging in such wack behavior just “doesn’t care”... but it is true. writing this out makes me think i undersold the insight potential value-add of naomi klein’s doppelganger, because she’s actually really good about recognizing that while these movements involve a lot of sociopath grifters at the top, the footsoldiers are people responding to ways they do in fact feel victimized (and sometimes actually are, e.g. i literally can’t remember if klein talks about this or not although i think probably yes but a lot of people in the alt-wellness/medicine space got there as a result of terrible experiences with healthcare that failed to address their physical and emotional needs).

ok also AND one last thing about this essay, she really gives the impression that she thinks damon lindelof is like the first person ever in history to politicize the figure of the vigilante/superhero… lmao? she praises the show for being about how actually community is necessary and justice can’t be done solo, which, first of all, just gonna throw this out there, there are ways to tell that story without being like truly the most police brutality apologia nonsense i have ever seen, and secondly, this is literally thematically expressed quite poignantly in alan moore & dave gibbons’ comic limited series watchmen in the scene where the guy acting as a lone vigilante who has taken the fate of humanity into his own hands nukes a bunch of new yorkers coming together to try to mediate some conflict. do i think that you need to have read watchmen to write an essay — not a BLOG POST on your DUMB BLOG, an ESSAY in a BOOK — about the politics HBO watchmen? i mean, maybe? is that so crazy? she says making hooded justice black is a radical reimagining of a comics character which is so funny because it makes hooded justice sound like he’s fucking superman or something and not a probable nazi who dressed up as a kinky klansman as part of watchmen’s commentary on the politics of superheroes lmao. like hooded justice is already a radical reimagining of the superhero mythos… because he sucks… and i guess in my heart no i don’t think i’m just being a weird watchmen stan (lmao) to say, “you actually can’t get a meaningful read on the politics of HBO watchmen without taking into account that the actual intervention being performed with this character is ‘what if this nazi was actually a sympathetic black man.’” do you see how that feels different? (also not for nothing but wrt the idea of HBO HJ being inspired by the movie about a black hero, again, in the comics HJ through his klan-ish costuming is already inspired by american iconography of heroism — arguably one he also saw in a silent movie that actually existed by the name of birth of a nation lmao!!!!! — which is part of the indictment of american hero iconography… i mean whatever. it’s so fucking stupid. btw her big takeaway from this character’s arc is that justice has to happen in community which is also funny because like you know who had a really strong sense of community? the klan.) do you see how it feels maybe extra different in a show whose ultimate thesis is something like “what if nuclear weapons were good if we gave them to a black lady cop who loves doing police brutality so so much”?

and… ok one LAST-last thing… in her informal endnotes, she cites “the watchmen universe” created by moore & gibbons, which… idk man. on the one hand i’m like, ok but it actually is mostly irrelevant to my textual beefs here that watchmen was in fact not intended to be a “universe” as we now use that term in the IP era and that the extent to which it has become one has been expressly at the disapproval of moore largely because of the fact that DC fucked him over so bad with this that it literally changed comics contracts going forward lmao. but on the other hand, if you like claim to care about the social context in which art was created, isn’t it not the best look to do not a single google and uncover the most famous example of the abominable labor practices of the comics industry? i acknowledge i could be indulging in pettiness at this point.

OKAY so that’s all on watchmen i think. the odyssey thing is smaller and less of a big deal, more just goofy. so she talks about the cyclops sequence and highlights how in recounting this story to the phaeacians odysseus is identifying certain arbitrary marks of “civilization” such as cultivating fields, and how he ignores the arguably very “civilized” acts we see polyphemus the cyclops commit, such as tending his sheep and making cheese. this is all fine and unobjectionable, even true, although i will say that, first, she presents this like these are insights she is bringing to her close reading of the text but i really struggle to imagine the person in the past several decades who would disagree with the fundamental thesis “the stories and myths and texts of ancient cultures served in part to delineate and reinforce their own social norms”; and second, she opens the essay with an epigraph from toni morrison talking about how she always admired how homer could make you feel sad for the man-eating cyclops, but then she doesn’t bring this quote up at all and talks about polyphemus’s sheep and cheese as though recognizing in them the marks of humanity is, again, a novel way to read the text? idk maybe i am just misreading her tone bc by this point i was very tired of how impressive she seemed to find herself but i found it odd because she’s like “see polyphemus is actually complicated but odysseus doesn’t see that” and i’m like well yeah that’s like what morrison was talking about… i have no idea how this would have scanned in ancient greece bc i’m not a classicist but neither are you so… anyway. i couldn't figure out her attitude on the odyssey (or this chunk of it) as a text, i guess.

so she takes us through the whole incident, including a cutesy reading of “nobody is blinding me” as like a metaphor for how power operates by making it impossible to name it, which, sure. have fun. and she closes on odysseus’s final boast along the lines of “if anyone asks tell them it was odysseus of ithaca son of laertes who blinded you.” and then she goes into this whole thing about how like… this is odysseus wielding his privilege basically, that he’s doing this because he’s so secure in his name and the power that grants him. she says, “It’s his confidence in his own context that is Odysseus’s greatest strength, his greatest privilege, and his greatest cruelty.” which… i guess kinda makes sense… if you ignore the part where namedropping himself is literally what GETS HIS ASS CURSED? he drops his name and instantly polyphemus is like “grandpa end that motherfucker” and boom, odysseus’s men are doomed to death and he is cursed to ten years at sea. like… it is literally not his greatest strength!!! it is the thing that gets his ass beat!!!! and notice that observing this, the BASIC LITERAL PLOT OF THE TEXT, does not require morally defending odysseus, or claiming homer was woke, or whatever. it is very obviously the case that the text does not think odysseus’s thing about his name is bad and he is being punished for it to learn lmao. i actually literally pulled my old fagles translation off the shelf to find what bernard knox had to say about this, if anything, in the intro, and he reads it as an expression (one of several) of the same heroic code you see achilles living by in the iliad, which includes the idea that you must take credit for your shit — even in this situation in which doing so puts yourself and your ship at great risk. this is not a particularly sympathetic reading to most modern readers! but it is one that takes into account the fact that this is the inciting incident for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE PLOT OF THE POEM!!! like it is crazy to quote that line and end the story there as if odysseus just walks away unbothered! the point of that interaction is not that he’s acting like a vanderbilt trying to get a table at a fancy restaurant, and it is not incidental what happens next because what happens next is THE ENTIRE STORY! and, like… it’s also not incidental because the fact of the matter is the world of homer is simply not a world where your name protects you, or achilles and agammemnon would not be hanging out in the fucking underworld. i’m thinking here about knox’s comment on the iliad that it was written in a century where athens spent more years at war than not, and how crucial understanding that is for understanding the world these stories were created in… i mean on the one hand whatever but on the other hand the essay collection is literally about the idea of reading things in context… so like… whatever. you could take the events in the text and then discuss their influence on 3000 years of western art and how that trickles down into values or whatever, i guess… but she didn’t do that so like :/

also then she says “he may be traveling, but he’s not a migrant,” which i just found goofy because i’m not really convinced the concept of A Migrant as she seems to want us to read it makes a ton of sense to superimpose onto the mediterranean 3000 years ago. (i feel like A Migrant requires the concept of… nations? borders? etc.?) happy to be corrected on this by any classicists who follow me.

also her didion essay is not as good a takedown as either didion's own takedown of woody allen or barbara harrison's takedown of didion. lol.

anyway. ok. that’s my grudges off my chest lmao.

[bellsluck]

☆ about me ☆

hii, i’m bells!

thought it was about time i made an introduction.

i’m 21, a capricorn sun, leo moon, cancer rising (astrology freak), my ethnicity is a little complicated but i’ll put it as half british and half portuguese. i can speak english and portuguese fluently and have a half-decent grasp of spanish. i’ve lived in the uk for most of my life. sexuality: no labels.

i’d say i’m new to tumblr as this is the first time in my life i’m actually using it regularly, i think I’ve got the hang of it now. i feel so at home on here and i love having new mutuals hehe. feel free to message about literally anything (save me from the “singles in your area looking for-” dms, i beg).

☆ interests ☆

i love writing and reading, fanfic, music and film, generally just immersing myself in other worlds tbh. kisses to pinterest, ao3 and wattpad. tumblr now too i guess.

seemingly never ending harry potter obsession. marauders era, hogwarts legacy era, etc. slytherin girly. i was part of hptok at its peak in like 2020/2021, my page was basically dedicated to it. it was so much fun.

also star wars, specifically the hayden christensen trilogy, but i love the ogs too and i thinkmy favourite spin-offs are the mandalorian and obi-wan kenobi. if i ever get married it will be at lake como, idc how many times it's been done. i was at one of the filming locations last summer (theed palace) and almost crying like a little biatch.

i like video games too (mostly play on switch), but i’m very picky when it comes to finding ones i actually like, then I will rack up hours on it like there's no tomorrow… we love hyperfixation over here. love love love stardew valley, animal crossing and games along those lines but atm i’ve been doing my rounds on the resident evil games (re2 og, re4 remake, re6, down bad for leon kennedy) and also hogwarts legacy, i’ve finished most of it, i just have to complete my field guide now (desperately want to replay for the sebastian quests, also the new mod stuff is so cool!).

music wise, i listen to lots of different stuff, constantly go through phases, but for my all timers, aka can quote their discography from start to finish, i’d probably say lana del rey, radiohead, the weeknd and nirvana. recently it’s been lots of david bowie, queen, beabadoobee, portishead, fleetwood mac, the beatles… i could go on.

always open to recommendations for songs, playlists, films, series, games, books, fanfics, or anything, i love it all.

☆ onto the topic of shifting... ☆

i am happy to announce i am free from the shackles of “shift-tok”. if yk, yk. 

i’ll take this as a chance to ask nicely for any antis to please, please, not interact from here on out. thank you.

so, i initially found out about shifting on hptok 2020 (huge surprise ik) and so obviously i wanted to go to hogwarts. like??

needless to say i got caught up in all the tiktok misinformation, blatant lies, complicated asf methods, self explanatory. sorry younger-me. i could explain more but all in all i was too impatient and clueless, didn't really know what i was doing at all, eventually got bored, busy with school, and assumed everyone was lying (a few were, it seems).

 i completely forgot about it all after that until i came across a shifting post on reddit a few weeks ago. my tiktok fyp started filling with shifting/manifestation videos too right after. i was coincidentally in between a rewatch of the harry potter films at this point too. you know where this is going. i started seeing tiktoks from smaller creators just answering people’s questions about shifting, and it was all so different from all the stuff i’d heard years ago, spoken about in a completely different way, which just made so much sense to me and was so intriguing. i decided to delve into it all once again. it was those same creators who also would mention tumblr, and i, who had just joined tumblr for writing related stuff not long ago, decided to start searching up things related to shifting.

 i eventually came across some great accounts and information, stories of experiences, motivation, help. i started reading “journeys out of the body” by robert monroe too, so interesting, btw, and have since began my own shifting/exploring consciousness journey (i try to be careful what words i use for things, for lots of reasons, and i understand everyone might use different terms, reminder that i haven’t been on here for that long). it’s been amazing so far. 

(i may have straight up searched shifting realities on google the other day. curiosity got the best of me. it was bad. don’t do it.)

to not mislead anyone, no, i haven’t actually had a full experience in my specific “dr” yet. however it’s only been a small amount of time and i’ve already had lots of different types of sensations and experiences that i’ve never had before and it’s all so beautiful and interesting to me. i definitely view things a lot differently than i did before. i have shiftblr to thank for it.

i adore finding new shifter blogs and reading everything on them, so if i’m giving stalker behaviour it just means i’m loving your stuff or you're all over my feed. 

idk what i’m even going to post about yet, if or when i do. maybe i’ll write a bit into my “journey” so far, any experiences or how and what i do to get into certain states, about my dr, or stuff i’m just nerdy about in general. 

fyi just because i write does not mean i will always use any grammatical skills at all when writing for blog. sorry ;)

if you ever have any questions i’ll love you forever i will answer as best as i can.

this wasn’t all that exciting but i just wanted a little intro because i’m always blank on my socials. 

 thanks for reading !!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

[rowansender]

So I get the sense that we’re all stressed about this idea 😅. Taking notes from the above responses it seems that there are a few key issues involved with growing the ttrpg community.

1. There is a hegemonic presence that occludes the existence of the community at large (not a surprise). This has many knock on effects.

2. The ratio of community made products to available/interested consumers is skewed heavily towards the production side (even at the level of intra-artist connection).

3. There is a lack of casual (read: non productive) consumers that could support the broader community.

4. Due to the extremely small community as it is now, there is a lack of online secondary media such as YouTube, actual plays, general writing, etc. These are potential avenues by which to bring people in.

5. Growing the community cannot happen exclusively online as possible avenues are clogged mostly by the hegemony.

6. Based on the sentiments expressed here, it seems that the community may have reached the point of boiling over and it will take active work to guide it into its next phase. This seems like something people are actively worried about. People who have been involved much longer than I have and are more well connected than I.

With all that taken into account, it seems like a community initiative may be in order. I started this looking mostly to up engagement between artists but these responses rightly point out that this can only be solved by solving other problems. I started the Eternal Game Jam to that end, but I think I may need to expand my involvement to other corners beyond the creators.

I’m not exactly positioned to make the happen, but I have a considerable drive for this art form and I will doggedly pursue my goals in this. I’ll keep working towards it and hopefully, when the time is right, ttrpgs can take the spotlight I think they deserve.

The question I have now is, how? What does something like this look like? This isn’t a call to action in and of itself, but I’m open to ideas. I think it is something that has to happen from the core of the community and has to include plans that enter into the physical world.

Thank you for the long and thoughtful responses to this concern. I wish I had been a bit more clear in my original post, but it was a fruitful start. They’ve all given me ideas for ways to move forward on this.

(I wish I didn’t have to refer to people as consumers, but I think it is the most apt way of distinguishing active artists and fans or players.)

Art Communities and TTRPGs

I recently read an article by @toyourstations (which you can read here) about art revolutions, both online and in physical space. It makes the point that art communities online are generally fairly insular, rarely reaching out beyond a small circle of other artists. To combat this, the article argues that you as an artist should find a way to exist in physical space around people who are not in your small group and share your art there. It's a topic that I had been thinking about a lot lately as I've been making a conceited effort to connect more people in the indie ttrpg space and encourage more community amongst artists.

I've noticed a trend that relates to both of these topics. It seems to me that people in the indie ttrpg community online rarely interact with other's works. I see in other art mediums an outpouring of interaction on even the most sophomoric works. Yet amongst ttrpg writers, I see posts of well made projects with little to no interaction or feedback. This is purely subjective and my experience may be skewing my view on the topic but it seems to hold true.

I have a few theories.

This is obviously a fairly small community, but there are at least other artists here that would have opinions about the projects they see. Are people scared to interact; to give criticism, both good or bad? You would think in such a small community of creator/artists that people would be sharing ideas and writing critique.

The most cynical theory is that creators don't want to boost up other projects as they see them as competition. There is a feeling that there is only enough oxygen in the room for one or two projects to exist and you don't want to lift up other projects when it may result in the starvation of your own.

There is also the time investment. It takes time to read and interact with ttrpgs. Playing/testing them is a whole other level of commitment. But there must be some people who at least read or skim projects. Why do they not leave comments. Does it really come down to the size of the community? Are there just not enough people interested in projects outside of their own?

----

I do feel that I need to state that this opinion is not a reflection of my personal project's engagement. I am fairly happy with how they have performed considering my size and reach. This frustration is mostly a product of seeing other projects and artist gain zero traction when I think their projects are worthwhile. This also goes beyond Tumblr as a platform. Obviously there are a million factors that play into this, but I think a community initiative to engage more with smaller works could change the landscape of the ttrpg community online.

[tealbeats-archived]

Breathing was hard in this moment.

It felt like something spectral pushing into his chest; wrapping around Ezreal’s lungs the more he scrolled on the internet—the feeling wrapping tight and squeezing as it threatened to cut off his airflow. Ezreal’s breathing formed into heavy gasps for air; almost as though he was drowning and trying to expel water from his lungs—but it wasn’t getting better. Why wasn’t it getting better!?

‘If you don’t figure something out, you could lose your career, Ezreal.’

‘Some ‘Pop Star Prince’, huh? Can you even give that title to a One Hit Wonder?’

‘His stuff used to be better…what happened? Talk about a sell out.’

Of course, these were all from before he joined HEARTSTEEL, but he still had a habit of looking at comments or remembering old conversations with producers and managers—mostly to see if there was anything positive, but even some things weren’t…great, in regards to the present.

‘He kind of just fades into the background, doesn’t he?’

‘What’s even the point of him being there…?’

Invasive thoughts swirl into his mind before he shuts his phone off and chucks it at the door; making a large SLAM for anyone near by to hear. Thanks to his phone case though, there was no damage, at least.

Ezreal scrambles to his feet to grab it, swinging the door open, though his chest felt tighter and his knees began to buckle. Man, what if this was it? What if HEARTSTEEL didn’t work and he—and now his friends—lost their careers? Why did he feel like he would just blame himself for that? And lose…all of them? He couldn’t lose all of them.

The walls felt like they were closing in on him and he planted his hand against one, keeping his body close before he succumbed, knees losing way and causing him to collapse; one hand digging into his hair and gripping tightly as he gave out a loud, ear piercing scream from the anxiety that riddled him in the hallway.

[canisalbus]

My absolute favorite thing about your blog, even more favorite that Vachete, is the care and interest you put into each response. Be it an ask or an art piece, you always eloquently break down each individual aspect and comment on them. It always makes me smile.

.