#I have also used nude beaches as an example

[i-think-sometimes]

An argument I use whenever someone is using opinions to an unreasonable degree:

Me: Well, bikinis make me feel cold just looking at them, but you don't see me trying to stop people.

Them: that holds no argument over how (insert gender identity, sexuality, religion, etc) is evil.

Me: if everything someone decided was uncomfortable was evil I would have bikinis banned.

Them: But I like bikinis...

Me:

Them: Oh. You could just say I'm being unreasonable.

Me: Nobody listens when I use normal words. Or at all. You trapped me in this conversation. Suffer with me (this part is never actually said, because I am too nervous in real life.)

But yeah. Someone unreasonable you can't just get away from? Bikini argument them.

[oldguy56-world]

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Valentine's Day is next week so love is in the air. It also happens to be the first day of Lent but that is a whole other issue. (Dilemma: If your loved one is giving up sweets for Lent and you get her chocolates is she allowed to eat all of them on Valentine's Day or must she wait until Easter? Life can be tough.)

In any case, although we should all show our love year round it is very important that you ramp it up a notch for the special day. Year round I show my love to my wife by trying to be a good husband. It is called respect. She reciprocates by not smothering me in my sleep. Quid pro quo.

What is the best way to demonstrate your love? That is really between two people as it can differ from couple to couple. Some people have high expectations, while others are just happy to be there. All through history there have been examples of how love is shown, In honor of the upcoming special day let me take you down that path.

Napoleon knew that it was a mistake to invade Russia. Unfortunately his new wife Marie liked shiny things and when she heard of Faberge Eggs she needed to have one. Her husband said no but then she took her top off and the rest is history.

Love comes in many forms. Vlad Putin loves to sunbathe nude on a beach in Odessa (Please try not to visualize this. Too late? Sorry.) Because he also likes to stay in a country where only half the people want him gone he had to try and take the area by force. Two years later he still looks south longingly with a towel and sunscreen in his hands, and a single tear in his eye.

Dogs love to eat. They learned a long time ago that people have opposable thumbs and can give them food. Because of this they have pretended for centuries to be man's best friend to get at what they really want: the food. Should they ever learn how to use a can opener we will no longer be needed. (By the way they also like licking their private areas and know it bothers us. That is why they do it in front of us and look up occasionally to see if we are watching. It is their version of giving us the finger)

If a man loves a woman (hey. that is a catchy phrase for a song) he will bathe and put on clean clothes. Believe me when I say that he is doing it for her. Don't believe me? Find a single man. Check out what he is wearing and get close enough to take a whiff. I rest my case.

German people love fine pastry but are useless at making them so twice they invaded France to try to find out their secrets, which apparently were important enough to fight for.

Donald Trump actually loves two things: money and himself. (Maybe 3 as personal freedom seems high on his current priority list.) Show me anything he has done, especially lately, that does not prove my point and I will concede my hypothesis is faulty. He has lots of hobbies like throwing people under a bus or making up stories but all of these hobbies feed into his loves.

Finally, Adam ate that apple because he loved Eve. It cost him his home, and more importantly it was the beginning of men having to wear pants.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Love is in the giving, not the taking.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Can I ask your opinion on blonde. I’m always interesting in your opinions on movies.

Sure! And thanks, I appreciate that.

I think it's just a really bad movie. I was very open to it--I enjoyed the campiness of the early 2000s miniseries. I have nothing against biopics in theory, and I think it's okay for biopics to critically examine their subject... but I don't think that a clear misogynist who hates Marilyn Monroe should've made a movie about Marilyn Monroe.

Tbh, the idea of this being a biopic is flawed, because it's an adaptation of a Joyce Carol Oates novel that is in itself a work of fiction. But the promotion of the movie did not emphasize that at all; even JCO seems to not be as aware of that reality as she once did, and Dominik really only fell back on the book when he was getting heat from certain interviewers; otherwise, he just referred to Marilyn rather baldly, like this was a conventional biopic.

And even without his disgust for Marilyn being clear in those interviews, he obviously hated her based off the movie. The movie is about creating a fetishized wankfest of a woman for men who like idea of punishing hypersexualized (notice that I don't say hypersexual--because frankly, as long as you're being safe with yourself and your partners, you as an individual being hypersexual is not wrong, but Marilyn was NOT a hypersexual person) women. It literally felt like torture porn. I don't often feel like... triggered by movies? But this movie felt triggering at points. I don't even think it needed to connect to a specific experience to trigger you, tbh; you just have to be a woman who's experienced bullshit in the world, because it is just a violently misogynistic, woman-hating film. But truly, special shoutout to the loving night vision shot of Marilyn's nude form, hair fully done, as she cluelessly gets out of bed covered in blood following her second forced abortion.

Speaking of those abortions! Not that I require total accuracy from movies, but I've never seen super strong evidence either way that Marilyn had abortions. She could have; many actresses in the day did, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Marilyn definitely had documented miscarriages, though, and fertility issues that gave her a lot of grief. So to see her fertility and her reproductive autonomy (or lackthereof) used as a plot point to elicit more shock and awe was really... gross. I have a big issue in general with fertility struggles being used as soapy drama in biopic content (I really hated the fucking goofy "I'm gonna have a stillborn baby on the lawn" moment in The Spanish Princess, for example, because it was so over the top and so easily mocked online that it seemed to just... make a joke out of a real woman's very real pregnancy losses). This took that to another level, because not only did Marilyn have forced abortions--it was like... They wanted us to see that she had no choice in the matter, was literally physically forced to have them, while also HATING HER FOR IT. Like oh, she considered the first abortion for a minute, so it's all her fault that she was then dragged into an operating room, strapped to bed, and forced into an abortion. Twice! With a vagina's eye view. And in case you didn't pick up on then, we have her fucking fetus talk to her while she's pregnant and blame her for it, before she like? Violently miscarries after tripping on the beach?

Never mind that like... The JFK shit was totally unnecessary, totally exploitative, and again, totally based on nothing, just there to make fun of her. I tend to raise an eyebrow at the Twitter threads that went to every effort to convince everyone that Marilyn didn't have an affair with JFK because... there's a lot of reason to believe that she did, and quite possibly (probably?) slept with his brother as well. And who cares if she did, honestly? That was JFK's asshole maneuver to do to his wife, and Marilyn does not lose merit as a person for sleeping with him--to me, bending over backwards to act like she didn't is reinforcing this idea that you must be evil if you make a mistake like that.

But... There's no evidence to suggest that it was anything other than a consensual affair. I mean, don't get me wrong, JFK was a rich, powerful, sex-obsessed man in the 1960s, so I feel that him assaulting women is totally on the table; but there's nothing legit out there indicating that he assaulted Marilyn. So that was just there to... shock us? I've seen some saying that it's meant to like, rattle the American idealism surrounding the Kennedys? My brother in Christ, we like... know... the Kennedys were into some shady shit.... And we certainly know that JFK fucked everything that moved, so MYTH: BUSTED on that one. A while ago!

I just think that it was a badly made movie for navel gazers who want to sound intellectual while enjoying torture porn starring America's most visually iconic actress (and really, most visually iconic sex symbol). Directed, worst of all, at someone who did fucking nothing to deserve this kind of backlash. She was an intelligent, talented, in many ways progressive, mentally ill woman who made some choices that hurt her, in large part because she was extremely traumatized from a young age, and the trauma piled on. She also had some fun times and some genuine friendships and complex relationships, and we never get to see that shit in media. We never see Marilyn happy, even though she totally was happy at points in her life. We never see Marilyn gossiping with other girls in the studio system and or vamping it up a bit for the fun of it.

And I also! Think! Ana did a shitty job as Marilyn! Lol I kept seeing people tout that performance as the movie's saving grace, but I'll be honest man... Homegirl didn't have much to go off with the script, to be fair--most of it was "say 'oh no daddy'" in a little girl lost voice or "look clueless" but... That was a rough go. I know Marilyn's accent is a hard one to get without it sounding like a mockery, and Ana's own natural accent is hard to cover, but uh... Yeah, bro. She sounded like a Cuban Marilyn Monroe impersonator the entire movie, and that was INCREDIBLY distracting. Bobby Cannavale was actually a really good DiMaggio, but like. I am not entirely sure that Bobby was in the same film as everyone else.

Anyway, I hated it, and I really like Be Kind Rewind's review of why this movie felt so much worse than two other not-good biopics about famous women we view with tragedy in mind (one of which I did actively loathe, but not as much as Blonde--Blonde makes Spencer look like a decent movie).

[translationandbetrayals]

Is fanservice ruining anime?

The meaning of fanservice by Google is, "material added to a work of fiction for the perceived or actual purpose of appealing to the audience".

Is often seen in animes/mangas and it tends to be kind of sexual, like showing the boobs of a character, etc.

Since a long time ago has fanservice been added to anime and it has created some cliche sub tramas that are very common to see in any kind of anime (it doesn't matter the genre), like the beach episode, the thermals waters, the one where the (commonly) female character falls in a very uncomfortable position (her panties are shown, her boobs in the face of another character, etc).

Now, is fanservice bad? Not really, after all it does attract some audience and sometimes it helps to relieve some situations. The problem I have with fanservice is the fact that is exploited, when is used in very serious/tense situations and when the rol of a character is solely to do fanservice.

Fanservice has gotten to the point where is really annoying and has begun to be a reason as to why not watch an anime, one example of this would be Fire Force, an anime that has good animation and storyline but gets ruined by the excessive fanservice, where for no reason you would see a female character nude or doing weird noises.

It's also very annoying when a good character with a great potencial is reduced to do fanservice only, setting aside the cool powers/storyline they may have.

By: Florencia Verdugo

[omgkatsudonplease]

I watched Mignonnes so you don't have to, if you were at all discomfited by the way Netflix's marketing decided to sexualise children in a film critiquing the sexualisation of children.

SPOILERS BELOW

The film is about how both hyperliberal and hyperconservative cultures force girls to grow up too fast. Amy is a first-gen immigrant from Senegal. Her family's culture tells girls they are marriageable once they get their first period, and in anticipation of that she is expected to know how to prepare an entire wedding feast and provide for her two younger brothers. 

Amy is disenchanted from this culture when she finds out her dad back in Senegal has married another woman. He will be bringing her to France with him and they will live in the same apartment. Amy's mom tries to put on a brave face and accept it, but it is obvious this move is humiliating for her. Amy's excitement for her dad turns into anger, compounded by her alienation and isolation at school.

The Mignonnes are a dance clique of 4 French girls who are clearly better adjusted to Western culture than Amy. Their ringleader lives in Amy's apartment complex and Amy is clearly enchanted with her because of the way she dances. She wants to be friends with the Mignonnes, but they bully and tease her. So in an attempt to win their approval, Amy learns the dance routine they are practicing for a local competition.

(The infamous "OMG NAKED BOOBIES ON A CHILD" shot is a blink and you'll miss it moment on a music video posted by a rival dance group. The incident is treated like a wardrobe malfunction, the girl quickly covers up, and the camera cuts away. Also, breasts aren't inherently sexual in France so a lot of the morality screaming is really American puritanism at play.)

The girls' antics are rebuffed by the older boys and men they interact with. One such moment is when the girls catfish an older teenager, but when one of them turns on the camera, the boy is visibly uncomfortable and tells them to fuck off. This leads to the girl who turned on the camera to be outcast from the group, which is Amy's avenue into the group. To secure her place, she offers to teach the other girls how to twerk. 

This is where the film's dances become more notably uncomfortable. I can tell why people are upset about the sexualisation of children based on only these scenes from the film, but within the context of the film they are treated as a dangerous addiction that is destroying Amy's dignity. She acts more and more "mature" in an attempt to gain the approval of the Mignonnes. In these subsequent dance scenes the camera mimics the angles from a music video, but the child subjects make the overall scene grotesque and uncomfortable.

There is a scene where Amy is pantsed in a fight. This is when she is desperately trying to look "more mature", so the revelation that she still wears "kids' granny panties" is humiliating for her. Once again, the shot is really quick, in the context of a fight, and the Mignonnes come to her rescue quickly. This moment is the tipping point where Amy's outside activity seeps back into her home. She steals her mom's wallet so she and the Mignonnes can go on a shopping spree for more ~mature~ underwear. 

Since Amy is in a lower-income first-gen immigrant family, she doesn't have her own smartphone. The girls at her school do, though, so she steals her cousin's smartphone. This is also part of her attempts to become accepted by her peers -- that phone is her first foray into hypersexualised Western online culture and part of her first major interaction with the Mignonnes. It is also part of the worst thing she does: post an inappropriate photo of herself online.

The film clearly shows her reasoning for doing so: she is deep in social media at this point and needs more and more provocative actions to score the same high. The Mignonnes were humiliated by the pantsing incident and need something to show they're "not kids" (even though they are). Amy doesn't know it's inappropriate to post that kind of photo online. She does it anyway. And she is punished by both her home culture and Western culture for doing it.

There is a scene here where her mother and auntie sprinkle her with water, presumably to purify her from her sins. Amy becomes overwhelmed with some sort of emotion and starts half-twerking in front of them. The camera circles her entire body when she does so. It really makes her look possessed, which is why her mother calls in an imam (I think?) to check her for demons. The man tells her mother there are none, and reminds her that she is free to divorce her husband if she cannot bear the stress and humiliation of this impending wedding. "God does not burden women with more than they can bear," he says, making a clear distinction between Islam as a religion, and Islam as a tool used by a patriarchal culture to force the submission of women. 

Amy is also rejected from the Mignonnes (and they welcome the other girl back in). They tell her she acted like a slut and ruined their reputation, completely uncaring that they were responsible for her actions up to this point. The line is clearly: you can twerk and lick your finger and bite your lips and do all the other stuff that the women in music videos do, but you cannot post nudes. Amy doesn't know that's the line. She tries to justify her actions and is only pushed away by the other girls. 

(I should also mention, the actual action of her taking the pictures does not show you anything. The camera keeps itself above the belt outside of dance scenes. You know what she's doing based on the glow of the phone screen and the tops of her knees. You never see the photo itself, either. That, to me, tells me more about the film's treatment of these kids more than the dance scenes.) 

So with this further isolation from both of her cultures, Amy grows increasingly desperate. On the day of her dad's arrival and wedding, she tries to push her way back into the Mignonnes for their final dance. This feels like an act of self-harm at this point, but Amy needs that high of having friends and getting approval (since she's not getting any of it at home). The dance is horrifically provocative, and many people in the audience are uncomfortable. The fact that Netflix decided to focus on this scene in their marketing campaign subverts the entire point of the film, since anyone who only watches the trailer would not know Amy was self-harming by dancing like this at this point. 

Amy receives an awakening in the middle of the dance. She realises this is also not what she wants to do -- she doesn't want to be viewed as a prospective wife OR a prospective whore. So she runs off, rejecting the Mignonnes. 

(There is a scene earlier on when Amy gets her first period and the auntie tells her that she herself had been engaged at Amy's age, and after she got her first period she had only a couple more years before she was properly married. Also the second wife is heavily implied to be only a couple years older than Amy. This is not framed in the context of Islam but rather in the context of Amy's family's culture.) 

In the end, however, Amy manages to find a middle ground between her two cultures, and rejects the expectation from both for girls to become women before they're ready to. She rejects both the hyperfeminine dress sent from Senegal for her dad's wedding as well as the risque dance outfit, and dresses like a kid to go jump rope with other kids in the neighborhood. When she finally gets to act like a kid, she is happy. 

I could honestly say more about the film's use of that dress from Senegal as a magical realism plot point, the relationship between Amy and her mother, and how the camera is a stand-in for Amy's mental processes and perceptions. But given the current puritan fervour on the Internet about how the film is "paedobait" I felt obliged to write up the film so people can be aware of how the subject is actually handled in the film itself and make their own judgement as to whether or not to watch it. I personally thought it was more evocative of the immigrant experience; I remember making many of Amy's mistakes when I was growing up (but thankfully mostly not offline, lmao). 

So: are the dance scenes disturbing? Yes. That's the point. I would be more concerned if you were NOT disturbed by the dances. Is the film sexualising the kids? I personally think this is an example of depiction =/= endorsement. Would creeps use the dance scenes for their own ends? Yes, but creeps also used to use innocent YouTube videos of kids doing gymnastics and ballet or playing at the beach, which is why all YouTube videos for kids now have comments disabled. So dogpiling a woman of colour for talking about her own experience through film, accusing her of being a paedophile, and sending her death threats is incredibly excessive. 

Also, the original accusation of this film being paedobait originated from 4ch*n, a known internet cesspool of racist paedophiles, so really. Are we really going to take 4ch*n at their word. Do your research, everyone.

[morimallow]

NSFW Headcanons for Timeskip!Atsumu, Oikawa, and Tendou as Boyfriends

I didn't go into detail for this one to make it GN. I hope this is still alright.

AKA: Atsumu and Oikawa sex fails, Tendou sex supremacy.

Atsumu Miya

This man is FLEXIBLE. When I say flexible, not only physically but just.. flexible. He's all into plays, kinks, and stuff. He makes sex fun and enjoyable for the both of you. Stops when you feel uncomfortable or when you say your safe word.

Sex is casual between you two. Your normal conversation consists of: “Have you tried this one?” “Oh, can we do this tonight or whenever you feel like it?” “Man, I wanna ravish your hole right now, babes.”

He is a thigh man because why not? He knows his are superior but he wants you to wrap your thighs around his neck.

Appreciates every part of your body like you're made by God himself.

You guys went out to a convenience store once at 3AM and bought one pack of each available condom brand.

YOU GUYS WENT CRAZY and slept around 5PM, LOL. His stamina is crazy. That wasn't all sex though. You had oral and non-penetrative. Let's say you didn't stop until all bought condoms were in the trash bin.

They have a beach rest house, yeah? And Shoyo's “phenomenal” story about having sex on the beach didn't leave his mind. He wanted to try it with you.

Of course, you guys blessed the whole house first with orgasms and moans. After the interior, he's ready to dominate you on the beach.

At first was alright. You had placed a big beach towel on the sand under the big rainbow beach umbrella. Y'all did foreplay and all that but then it felt weird because of the sand. Some might've got into you, LOL, SORRY.

Atsumu told Shoyo he's a liar and the latter didn't understand why he said that. Tsumu then explained his experience and Shoyo laughed so hard and said he was pertaining to the drink he had back in Brazil.

Tooru Oikawa

Don't fight me on this because I can't see Oikawa doing things other than vanilla sex and BDSM. I'm sorry. He's nowhere in between.

Kidding, he's into cross-dressing! He loses his shit when he sees you wearing tights. Foreplay who? He doesn't know it.

Hmm, you'd go out to buy outfits with a toy inside you or something. Likes the thrill of getting caught or when someone notices he's doing things.

HE'LL DO IT ANYWHERE as long as you're up for it too! He once fingered you senseless with his beautiful fingers behind the comfort room of a park and a ball stopped at your feet.

The kid then followed the ball and Oikawa was still into it, he went faster even and you couldn't contain your moans. You were panicking and he just laughed. You didn't notice he kicked the ball far enough so the kid won't see you.

You guys don't have sex so often even though he already has more than enough time for you because he realized overworking doesn't mean he'd achieve certain victory. He doesn't want you to feel like he's using you for venting purposes.

He wanted to try having sex in the shower for quite some time now. He actually asked you about your opinion in this matter and you were like.. sure, why not? What's the worst thing that could happen?

HE BUMPED HIS HEAD MULTIPLE TIMES. I'M SO SORRY I'M DOING THIS.

You see, he's used to having sex in cramped spaces — you did it in his car, gym's storage room, Harry Potter's cupboard. But in the shower? Both of you? AND DON'T MENTION THE WATER. Sex there was the worst.

You have an album entitled: Tooru's Nudes and Other Sexy Stuff. I won't entertain any questions.

Satori Tendou

You're pressed up against the big window of your shared complex overlooking the Eiffel Tower as Tendou's thrusts become sloppier by the second. Yes, I'll start with this for Tendou because he deserves everything.

Okay, we go to our Miracle Boy.. in this case, AN ATTRACTIVE MAN WITH SEX FINESSE AND EXPERTISE.

I'm not having my favorites, I swear. Tendou just knows what he's doing and what you're up to.

For example, you've been thinking about asking him to play with your ass and hours later mid-make-out session, he asks you if you'd let him play with your ass. Is he psychic or something? God, he's perfect.

It's either he has sex with you NAKED or FULLY-CLOTHED. Nope, there is nothing in between, ma'am/sir.

He likes the feeling of your rim squeezing him but he also likes it when theres a piece of clothing touching his dick while fucking you.

When I said fully-clothed, I mean even if you're wearing jeans. He'd just let it sit around your knees and he'd pull down his just enough to free his cock.

With that being elaborated, he loves fucking you in public. You guys had practiced the art of Not Getting Caught Having Sex in Public, yes, it's art.

This is weird and probably uncomfortable even just by thinking about it but he made you wear skinny jeans without underwear. Yes.

He wanted to cross that out of your guys'sex list (yes, he has a sex list on his phone and he adds something every day). KITCHEN SEX. FOOD PLAY. Oh, and he ripped your jeans. Haha, ripped jeans— RIPped jeans (LMAO, MY SENSE OF HUMOR IS QUESTIONABLE). Sorry, I had to say that.

SFW version here.

M. List

[boringwifeme]

The secret personal life

A few years after we were married, we started to be invited and attending parties hosted by a co-worker of mine and her husband. These lead to meet other couples that invited us out to met a bars or clubs. We learned that they were part of a life style / swinger group (this was in the early 90s)

As we got more comfortable going out a couple of times a month with the group, we were next invited to a private home party. We both talked about it at length. We were both pretty open minded, and when dating and while married had gone to a nude beach, nudist resort a few times, and I had gone topless a number of times at pool parties. So we decided, that it would be worth it to at least check it out.

At first, we hung out and watched like a fly on the wall, then over the course of the night started to talk with other couples and singles. We went out a few more times with the group to some clubs and tried a private party again.  This lead to a couple asking us to play for the first time. It started as meeting for drinks and going back to sit in a hot tub, and then ended up watch each other as we both played with our spouses.  We both found it exciting, and our sex afterward was amazing. We learned and were comfortable meeting couples or single people with the group, but found it better to then arraigned to met privately with us over drinks.

Once we did finally try swapping, it was a big step and more of all 4 playing together.

I found a woman that almost by accident, that I was comfortable to play with. I had experimented with being bisexual a few years before, and on occasion now had the opportunity to try again.

During the course of the first three years swinging, we played on occasion with other couples, we tried threesomes, with both another man and another woman. We never did or have gone off separately. Over the last 25 plus years, occasionally we have stepped out and got active for brief periods when opportunity presented itself. We have never been ones to go to life style clubs or conventions. We were and are very selective who we have spent out time with.

We have always been very careful to keep our daily lives and family very separate from our private secret activity.

At times, we both struggled with this secret, while trying to also maintain our faith and set good examples. We found that this is a extension of our physical sexuality, but our faith and morals are still strong

[harrywritingsbyme]

Pushing Buttons

Loosely Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: I’d Like to dedicate this to the ICONIC Watermelon Sugar music video🍉🍉 Also, the ending sucks yet again... Enjoy 🙃

Almost 6.8k words

This new era in Harrys music was becoming very frustrating for you. It wasn’t the music, it was the music videos. Most people would be a bit jealous of the fact that Harry had written a few songs about his ex. And sure it stung a little in the beginning, but once you took a step back and realized that it was before you and that it was his experience, you were completely over it. Plus the fact that he wrote a couple songs about you made it sting a lot less. The music videos though, those were a completely different story. You hated the idea of other people getting up close and personal with your boyfriend.

A prime example would be the Lights Up music video. There was no doubt about the fact that he looked really good (like, really good) in that video. You just hated the fact that everyone around him got to not only see how good he looked, but they got to feel him up too. Normally you wouldn’t get jealous but after being on set of that video for the entire day, you were jealous. And you did let Harry know. You decided to wait until the next day to bring it up because you knew how happy he was with everything, and you didn’t want to ruin his excitement for this new era in his music career. When the two of you were in a completely relaxed setting, you gently brung it up and you told him how you felt. 

The way he responded to your feelings made you feel a little silly for the way you were reacting to all of this. As soon as you told Harry that you were feeling a little jealous, he immediately pulled you into him, letting you know that he completely understood how you felt, and that you had nothing to worry about because he was all yours. Despite how utterly adorable he thought you looked when telling him how you felt, he couldn’t help his cock from hardening in his pants. The fact that you didn’t like anyone besides you touching him was beyond sexy to Harry. He didn’t like to see you upset, but it was just something about your possessiveness over him that could turn him on in an instant. Your voice and words were sweet and understanding, but the underlying message of what you were saying was anything but sweet. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, but it was something about that underlying seriousness in that moment that just captivated him. It made him want to show you just how much he was yours. Which is exactly what he did. For the rest of the day until it was time to check out of the hotel, Harry used his mouth, fingers, and cock in ways that were completely unimaginable to the both of you. He wanted to make sure you knew that he was all yours. 

That was only the first thing Harry did to make it up to you though. The next thing he did was something you would have never expected. A few months later, Harry and his team began planning and brainstorming for his final music video for the album. This video just so happened to be for Watermelon Sugar. The song that not only sent shockwaves through not only his fanbase, but through you as well. When you first heard the song, you really liked it. But once he explained the song to you, which was very in depth by the way, you found out that it was not only about you, but how sweet you were. You couldn’t believe that he practically wrote a song about eating you out. That is until you remembered that it was Harry you were talking about. You knew how much he loved having his head nestled between your legs, but writing a song about it was next level. The only thing that could top the song, would be the video for it. Harry didn’t give you many details about the said video. All he told you was that the overall premise of the video was beautiful people on the beach. Which raised many questions in your head. But the fact that Harry wanted you to be in the video was far more questionable. When he told you this, you quickly dropped the final steps of your night routine to immediately address this newfound information.

“What do you mean I’m gonna be in the video?” You try to hold back your laughter, but you couldn’t help it. 

“What’s so funny?” Harry didn’t think anything he said warranted a laughing response. He wasn’t joking when he said that he wanted you in the video. He thought you’d be perfect fit for what he and his team came up with. Plus, you had to be in the video for at least one of the songs that were written about you. It all made perfect sense to him. “I want you to be in the video, simple as that.”

“But why though.” You ask again, trying to make sense of it all. You pull back the covers on your side of the bed before sliding in next to Harry. He closes his book and places it on the bedside table before moving in closer to you.

“I told you that the whole idea of it is beautiful people on the beach, right?” He asks. 

“Mhm”

“And you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. So, it only makes sense for you to be front and center.” He explains to you. 

“It’s amazing how you can say the cheesiest things and make my heart melt at the same time.” 

“Y/n, I’m being serious. I don’t understand why me wanting you to be apart of this is so crazy. If it makes you uncomfortable then I completely understand and if you don’t want to be in the video that’s fine too.” Harry explains further. 

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that being in your music video is a really big part of your work, and I just don’t want to be a distraction or in your way at all.” You calmly explain to him, pushing your fingers through his hair in the process. 

“That’s the last thing you have to worry about. If m’being honest, I’ve done some of my best work when you’re around. And on top of that, I’d love to have my muse right by side.” He reassures.

“Then in that case, I am honored to be apart of this project with you. And I look forward to seeing what you and your team have put together.” You smile at him.

“I think you’re going to like it.” He says before sending you a quick wink. 

~ ~ ~

In the weeks leading up to the video shoot the two of you didn’t talk much, if at all about the video or what you were supposed to be doing. All you knew was beautiful people on the beach. That’s it. Harry left you completely in the dark about everything else. 

Then the long awaited day finally came.

The entire time leading up to the shoot, your stomach was churning. You had no idea what was in store, and you were feeling a combination of nervousness, and excitement for the day. For the entire drive to the beach, you were asking Harry little questions here and there to get some type of information as to what you guys were doing. And with Harry being Harry, you got zero information out of him. 

“I know what y’doing and m’not tellin’ yeh anything.” Harry chuckles at your prying. 

“I bet you gave a full rundown to all the models what they’re going to be doing in all of this.” You say simply. 

“Yes, my team did tell them what they’re going to be doing.” Harry replies.

“So why can’t you extend me the same curtesy Harry Styles.” You say in a serious tone, even though you were trying your hardest to suppress the smile that was creeping up onto your face. 

“It’s not like you’re gonna be makin’ out with anybody or in the nude. It’s gonna be fun, all you have to do is trust me. Can yeh do that?” Harry reasons with you. 

“Fine” you concede. For the rest of the ride to the filming location, you and Harry talked talked about a variety of things. The conversation ranged from Harry talking about his excitement for his upcoming tour, to you talking about possibly getting a puppy to keep you company while Harry was away. And Harry made sure to pay extra attention to everything you said, because he didn’t want to slip up and give you any information about the video. 

When you and Harry finally get to the beach, the both of you are pulled right into his trailer. As soon as you two hit the chairs, there’s someone already working on your hair and makeup while the director of the video is standing in front of you explaining what was going to be happening today. What you gathered from the brief conversation was that you were going to be touching on and feeding Harry, while being fun and flirty. You could do that, right?

“See Harry, thats all you had to say” you turn to Harry, who was currently getting his nails painted a bright orange color. 

“I know, I just wanted it to be a little surprise. Wanted you to naturally release your inner Watermelon Sugar.” He proclaims.

“Harry, do you want this to be on YouTube or pornhub? Because you’re sending me mixed messages right now.” As soon as you say this the entire room bursts into a fit of laughter. 

“Well-“ Harry begins before you quickly cut him off.

“Don’t you even finish that” you quickly interject. 

“Okay fine. But in all seriousness, you’ve got this, you’re gonna do great.” Harry affirms you. 

You sit in the chair a little while longer while the hair stylist and makeup artist finish up on you. Once you’re all done, you go off and change into your outfit and you couldn’t help but look over yourself at least 10 times. You loved the red printed outfit and the way it hugged your body perfectly. You could confidently bet your last dollar that Harry hand picked this for you. It was something about everything from the clothes to the accessories that just screamed you, and was too much your style for Harry to have not picked it out. You also noticed that, the print on your outfit perfectly matched the shade of red that was in one of his looks. You’re broken out of your thoughts when you hear a knock at the door. When you hear that it’s Harry, you quickly open the door for him. 

“Look at you!” Harry admires your figure. You do a little twirl in front of him, and he couldn’t help but give your ass a little tap. 

“Well I guess you should just get it all in, because once we get out there it’s all business. Sorry Styles.” You tell him in a serious tone.

“Not even a little squeeze?” He pouts, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him.

“No. And this is exactly what I was afraid of. I’m gonna be a distraction to you, when you need to be working.” You give him a light hearted glare while lightly poking at his chest.

“I promise that I’ll behave.” He pouts back at you. 

“Pinky promise?” You stick your pinky finger up towards Harry. 

“Pinky promise” He wraps his pinky finger around his, sealing his promise to remain professional during the shoot. 

“Your nails are cute” you admire the bright orange polish on his nails.

“Not as cute as you though” he cheekily replies to you.  

“M’gonna keep my eye on you today, because someone needs to keep you in line.” 

“Fine” he whines like a little kid. 

“Good boy” you pucker your lips up at him for a kiss.

“Look who’s being unprofessional now” he points out before pressing his lips onto yours. 

“I will have you know that it’s my job to kiss you”

“So does that mean everyone else can kiss me the way you just did?” Harry knew exactly what button he was pushing when he said this. 

“Nope, absolutely not. If there has to be any type of kisses, cheek kisses only.” You not so playfully request. 

“Someones getting jealous.” he teases. 

“M’not jealous! Would you like me to be?”

“I mean...it is pretty hot when you’re jealous.” He says truthfully. He pulls you tighter against his body, and his hands wander back down to your ass.

“Well, I’m not going to get jealous today, and as much as I’d like continue this, I have to get out there with everyone else.” You pout up at him. 

“Do y’have to? Because you could just stay here with me.” Harry tries to coax you into staying with him a little longer. “If y’want, I can close the door and we could have a quickie right now.” Harry proposes, making sure to quirk his eyebrows suggestively at you. Before you could tell him no again, the director comes into the trailer to let you know that they needed you out there with the other ladies.

“I’ll see you later.” you press a kiss to his lips before walking out of the bathroom and out of Harry’s trailer to the set. You quickly introduce yourself to everyone, but you just introduce yourself as Y/n, not Y/n who is also Harry’s girlfriend. All of the girls you met were really nice, so you had a strong feeling that it was going to be a really good day.

For the next couple of hours, the video shoot is well under way and everything was going great. As the time progressed, you became more relaxed and in your element. You were really getting into it, and you made sure that Harry knew that. You figured that Harry had told the camera crew to get more than a just couple shots of you. So, you decided to make the most out of it and put on a little show for the cameras. You could feel his eyes on you the entire time and you loved every second of  the attention he was giving you. Whenever the camera wasn’t pointed at him, Harry’s eyes were right on you. For almost any other guy in the world, the entire idea of being in the midst of beautiful women would have turned them on immensely. But for Harry, there was only one woman here that he had his sights on. And that was you. Seeing you completely in your element was really messing with him. At first, you were the jealous one, but seeing you welcoming the soft touches from the other girls was starting to get to him. Yes, it was beyond hot to see you like this, but he wanted to be the one touching you. The way you were basking in the sun made the urge for him to run his fingers across your warm and glistening skin grow tremendously. From time to time watched you eat the pieces of fruit, and he could see the juices dripping from the corner of your mouth. And every time he watched you, he just about lost it. Not to mention the fact that you’d simply look over at him and send him the most tantalizing, yet innocent smile in the book. It made him wonder if you were trying to turn him on and make him jealous. 

One of the main reasons why he wanted you here was because he knew how you were a little jealous when he was shooting the Lights Up video, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel the same way about the video for a song that was all about you. But now, seeing how you were comfortable and completely in your element with everything, Harry decided to give it everything he had. If you could make him jealous, why couldn’t he do the same? Once the director got a couple shots of you and Harry, Harry went right into his plan. He began to lean into all of the touches he received, making sure he had a satisfied smile on his face whenever someone did touch or feed him.

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to make you jealous. Sure you preferred if you were the only one touching Harry, but given the nature of the song and direction they wanted to go in, you were completely fine (at least you thought you were). You did your best to just ignore him, but it was getting harder and harder every time his eyes locked in on yours. You would be the biggest liar if you said that the whole situation with the video wasn’t hot, and that you weren’t a little jealous. The smile that was plastered on his face was the same smile he’d give you when it was just the two of you, and when he was doing what he’d written about in the song. He made sure to send it your way whenever he could, knowing you’d instantly pick up on its familiarity. Harry was doing his absolute best to make you tick, just like you did to him. He could see that he was pushing on the jealous button inside of you, and there was nothing you could do about it. 

At first, neither of you had the goal in mind of pushing each others buttons. But now, that’s all either of you were doing. You were trying to get one another riled up. And by the looks of it, the both of you were doing a pretty good job at it.

When one o’clock rolled around, the director called cut, and told everyone that there was going to be an hour lunch break before you all began filming the last scenes for the video. You were talking to two of the girls you’d met when Harry sneaks up on you from behind and lifts you up in his arms. 

“Harry what are you doing?! Put me down!” You thrash your legs around, trying to get out of his grip, but he only tightens his grip on you. 

“Never!”he playfully yells back. 

“Oh my gosh! Harry, is Y/n your girlfriend?” One of the girls asks you and Harry. When she asks this, Harry puts you back down against the warm sand, and he walks around to face you, bending his knees a little to look you dead in the eyes. 

“Why yes she is. I wonder why she didn’t tell you guys.” He says pointedly, exaggerating every last word. When he says this you couldn’t help but burst out into laughter at how overdramatic he was being. 

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want it to be weird! I didn’t want the vibe to be all tense and stuff. Maybe it’s just me, but I’d be on high alert if I was touching someones boyfriend right in front of them. I know it’s the job, but still.” You reply smartly. 

“That makes sense. I think I’d feel the same if I’m being completely honest. But you don’t give off a weird vibe when it comes to that at all.” When she agrees with you, you whip your head in Harry’s direction with ‘I was right’ written across your face. 

“Perhaps” Harry concedes, if that’s what you want to call it. He one hundred percent understood where you were coming from, he just couldn’t let you know that.

“Well I think that everyone can agree when I say that you two being in a relationship is completely unfair to the rest of us. It’s not fair for two extremely good looking people to be in a relationship.” She says, wagging her finger at you and Harry.

“We are pretty pretty good looking right?” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back into him.

“Perhaps” you tease him, biting back your smile. 

“Well were not going to hold you guys any longer. But it was really nice talking to you Y/n, and we’ll see you two back on set.” The girls say their goodbyes before heading over to the lunch area. Harry then picks you back up, and he runs you both back to his empty trailer.

“Can you please put me back down!?” you thrash around in his arms again, but he just wouldn’t budge. 

“Nope” he says simply, continuing to carry you back to his trailer. He places you back on the ground, and he ushers you up the small set of stairs into before locking the door and pinning you against it.

“Harry, what are you-“ before you could even finish, Harry’s lips are slammed against yours with his body flush against yours. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, and you couldn’t deny how much you were needing him too. The kiss was frenzied and your hands flew to anywhere they could. Your fingers were tangled in his hair and his hands were firmly planted on your hips. When he pulls away, you both feel the pent up need you both had just radiating off of one another, and you both could see it in each others eyes. “You have no idea what you were doing to me out there.” When Harry says this, you couldn’t help but smirk at him. 

“I think I knew exactly what I was going” you simply say, lightly tugging on his hair. You wanted to see just how far you could push.

“So you admit to pushing my buttons” he smirks back, pressing himself further against you.

“Only if you admit to pushing mine.” You bite back.

 “Then I guess we’ll never know.” He says calmly. 

“Oh, I think we already know.” You whisper back, with a big smirk plastered across your face.

“There are so many things I want t’do to your right now.” Harry says bluntly. “Only thing I’m not so sure about is whether or not you can take it.” He was trying to get you just as riled up as he was. During the entire shoot, he couldn’t stop thinking about completely ravishing you. This need came from not only how amazing you looked, but also out of a little bit of jealousy he had acquired. What Harry didn’t know though was that you were just as riled up as he was, and you needed to blow off some steam too.

“I can take whatever you give me” you reply slowly to him. Aside from being jealous at times, you also had a pressure point for what Harry said. He could hear how you were challenging him in your voice and he knew that he had you exactly where he wanted you.

“Well m’not gonna go easy on yeh.” He warns, pinning you tighter between his body and the door. 

“Try me. It’s not like you can go that hard anyway.” Since he was pressing your buttons, it was only fair that you pushed his.

Without saying another word, Harry connects his lips back with yours and the kiss is far more urgent than before. His hands were grabbing onto any part of you that he could. Your hands left his hair and you were now trying to undo his pants. Harry pulls his mouth off of yours and he tightens his grip around your throat. It was his way of establishing his control over you.

“Go take all this off and wait for me.” Harry instructs. He lets go of you throat before pulling you up from the door. On your wobbly legs, you make your way over to the small living area and you fall back against the couch. “Thought I told you to take it all off”

“I am, just give me a minuet.” You softly snap back at him. You stand up from the couch and you peel off the two piece bathing suit, leaving you completely naked in front of him. You sit back down on the couch, waiting for Harry to finish taking off his own clothes. “This carpet is really soft” you mumble to yourself, trying to preoccupy yourself while Harry was getting undressed. You couldn’t understand why he was wearing so many clothes. Yes it was still winter time, but you guys were still in California for goodness sakes. 

“Gonna let me fuck yeh against it?” Harry asks as he takes off his last piece of clothing.

“You wanna fuck me on the floor, how romantic” you reply sarcastically. 

“Look, I know us and if were going to end up there anyway, why not start there. Plus, I need all the space I can get for what m’gonna do to you.” You could hear the cockiness in his voice, and at that point you just wanted to slap that smirk off of his face so bad.

“I’ll be wherever you want me to be.” You decide to play into him having all of the control. Except for the part where you’re being completely sarcastic and doing everything you can to piss him off. You knew how much Harry hated when you didn’t listen to him, so you were going to use that to your advantage. Harry simply nods his head towards carpet and you move down from the couch. Once his clothes are finally off, he comes over to where you’re sitting and he sits back on his calves in front of you with his hard cock on full display. You move in closer to him and you cup his face in your hands before slotting your lips with his. The urgency is still there, but it’s much slower and filled with passion.

Harry’s lips smack against yours, as his hands fall against your hips, pulling your body closer to him. You follow his lead, moving your legs around so that you were in his lap. He turns you both around before lowering you both down against the soft carpet. As he continues to kiss you, his hands move up from your hips to take claim of your breasts. He can hear muffled the moans that were leaving your mouth, and he removes his mouth from yours. He then reattaches his lips to your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth as if his lips were still on yours, and he moves his mouth further down your body, sponging kisses down your neck and collarbone. When he makes it to your chest, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples and he sucks hard on the pebbled skin. You couldn’t keep the moans from falling from your lips, nor could you stop squirming underneath him. Having Harry’s mouth on you would never get old, feeling him sponge wet kisses across your skin was a feeling you couldn’t get enough of. Harry continues to leave a trail of kisses down your body, until he made it between your legs. You spread your legs wider for him and your hands go straight to his hair. He pushes his head right between your legs, pushing his tongue right into your folds. From that point on, the moans only got louder. His hands were pressed against the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him. He couldn’t help but moan at how good you tasted. His head was nestled between the fleshy part of your thighs, pushing his mouth against you as mush as possible. He was going so deep that his nose was practically digging into your clit. You could hear the wet sounds of his mouth smacking against your pussy. You lift your head up, and your eyes fall onto his. Even though you couldn’t see his mouth, you could see the glint of happiness in his eyes. Harry then pulls his mouth off of you and you can see the bottom half of his face glisten with your juices.

“Fuck” you sigh, before dropping your head back against the carpeted floor. 

“Y’so delicious.” Harry pants in excitement. Whenever he had his mouth on you, he always got a rush. The high he got from you was a high he always needed, it made him keep coming back for more. Harry lowers his head back down between your legs, and before he puts his mouth on you, he spits on your pussy. When you hear and feel him do this, all you could do was moan. What he did made you feel even filthier and you absolutely loved that feeling. Harry pushes two fingers into you, quickly thrusting them in and out of you before attaching his lips to your clit. He could hear your moans getting louder, so to quiet you down, he reaches his free hand up and wraps it around your throat. Your once loud moans are now silenced to a mere gasp and or whimper. He then pulls his mouth off of you and releases his grip from your throat before bringing himself back up to eye level with you. He brings his mouth back down to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before rolling over so that you were on top of him. He moves his hand down to his cock, lining himself up with your wet entrance. When you feel the thick head nudging at your entrance, you begin to slowly sink down onto him. 

“Fuck” you gasp. Your head fell back and your mouth hung open at the way he stretched you out. You move your hips a little so that you could get adjusted to his size, and you could feel Harry’s hips lifting up into yours, pushing his cock deeper into you. So that you wouldn’t collapse on top of him, you plant your hands firmly on his chest for support while he snaps his hips up into yours. You kept your eyes focused on his as he fucked up into you. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours alone was enough to send you both into a complete frenzy. 

“Feel so fuckin’ good” Harry grits through his teeth, continuing to fuck you. When you start to move your hips against his again he stops fucking up into you and he lets you ride him. You lift yourself up, just to drop right back down against him. You continue like this until Harry wraps an arm around your lower back. He lifts himself up with you still in his lap and he pushes his lips back onto yours. His tongue darts right into your mouth, and you then begin to grind your hips back and forth in his lap. You and Harry continue to make out like until you pull away from his mouth. He leans in to give you one last kiss, but you move your face back, causing him to chase after your lips. You let out a small giggle at his attempts to lock his lips against yours, and you give him a quick peck. “Such a tease” he growls through his smile. You never failed to amaze him. Even when you were trying to tick him off and battle for dominance, you still found a way to bring out your playful and innocent side. Harry then lifts you up from his lap and sits you down next to him. “Lay on your side f’me” he instructs. 

You do as he says and he lays behind you so that you both were in the spooning position. Harry closes your legs and pushes them towards your front. He lifts himself up slightly from the floor, and wraps his hand around his shaft. He lines his cock back up with your weepy hole and he slowly pushes into you. 

“Just shove it inside me already” you whine.

“Stop bein’ a little brat” Harry snaps back, giving a quick slap to your ass. His hips then begin to slowly pick up speed.

“Go faster” you slur, lifting yourself up to look behind you. You go to reach behind you towards Harry, but he grabs  onto your wrist and he lightly pushes your upper body back down. He starts to move his hips again, and so do you. You try to push back against him, but he stops all together and pulls out of you. You sit back up and you look behind you to find Harry with his hand wrapped around his cock. “Can I have a kiss?” you mumble out, making sure to send a pout his way. Instead of responding, he leans in and gives you a quick kiss.

“Now will you stop movin’ around and just lay down?” He says to you. You decide to do what he tells you to do and you fall back down agains the soft carpet. He lifts himself up onto his knees and pushes your legs apart before straddling your thigh. “Y’need to start listenin’ t’me” Harry reprimands before pushing into you. “Oh my-fuck” Harry groans behind you. With you in this position, it was light your walls were even tighter around him. He pushes the rest of the way into you and he could hear your cries out to him at how good it felt. Hearing your moans fueled his fire, and made him thrust harder into you.

“Fuck daddy” you cry out to him. You couldn’t help it anymore. As much as you wanted to keep pushing, the way he was fucking you felt so good. So, you let him have all of the control

“That’s right baby” Harry growls, crashing his hips down into yours over and over again. He continues to thrust into you until the tight knot in his stomach becomes even tighter. Harry quickly pulls out of you before pushing at your back so that you were laying face down in front of him. He pulls your hips upwards and he positions himself behind you. He lines himself back up with your hole and you begin to push back against him. “There you go baby.” Harry pants, becoming entranced with the way your ass was moving against him. “Keep fuckin’ yourself baby, s’all yours” Harry continues to chant behind you. 

“S’mine” you slur out to him, continuing to push back against him.

“All yours” he says once more before gripping onto your ass and shoving his cock into you again. 

“Daddy!” You scream out to him. He pins your hips down to stop you from moving and he pistons his hips into you, pushing you both even closer to your releases. “M’gonna cum daddy” you whimper out to him. 

“I wanna watch you when you cum” Harry grunts before stilling his hips and pulling his cock out out you. “Turn over baby” he instructs and gives a swat to your ass. You quickly do as he says and you spread your legs wide for him. “Good girl” he praises you with a proud smile. Before he pushes into you this time, Harry leans down and spits on on your pussy again, making sure to spread it across your folds with his fingers. “Feel good baby?” He smirks down at you when he hears your moans.

“Mhm” you mewl. He finally pushes back into you and he goes right back to slamming his hips into yours. He lowers himself down closer to you and he puts his lips back onto yours, muffling out your cries for him. 

“C’mon baby, I can feel yeh tightenin’ up ‘round me.” Harry slurs above you. He lowers a hand down between you two and he moves his fingers around your clit. The knot became so tight in the pit of your stomach that you felt like you could burst. You even felt your eyes beginning to water, signaling to you that you were extremely close.

“Oh my-“you couldn’t even finish because you were cumming hard around Harry’s cock. And Harry immediately followed suit. When he felt your walls contracting around his cock, his cum began to pour out of him. Once the both of you are done, Harry slowly pulls out of you and falls onto the floor next to you. 

Then the two of you just lay there for the next 5 minuets, still feeling the post orgasm aftershocks. The sex you two had was beyond mind-blowing. It was like the both of you were in post sex comas. 

“Just so y’know, you’re the only one who gives me that watermelon sugar high.” Harry whispers to you out of the blue. “Y’pussy is just-” he begins, pausing midway to find a word that could describe the the addictive area between your legs. “S’magical. Like y’just so good baby, I love it” Harry praises, sliding his hand back between your legs.

“Wow, it’s an honor to know that I have a magical pussy.” You reply, your tone ridden with sarcasm, with a hint of pride at how good Harry said you were. 

“It’s true! The only thing I love more than the sweetness between your legs is you.”

“You blow my mind more than you even know.” You burst out into laughter. “The way you went from talking about my pussy to being all romantic is just...” you continue. 

“M’serious babe” he sits up to turn towards your body, resting against his arm. “I love you so much.” He whispers down to you, poking his bottom lip out as well. 

“I love you too” you whisper back, sending him a soft smile. “And I only push your buttons and get jealous because I love you” you sigh up at him. You lift your hand up towards his face, softly gliding it across his soft skin and pushing back the hairs that fell down into his face.

“So you were jealous and pushing my buttons!” Harry points out, making it seem like he won. 

 “Just a little bit though” you try to downplay what you said.

Harry chuckles at your statement before he brings his face down to yours, slotting his swollen lips against yours. You use your free hand to pull him back on top of you. 

He lays his body against yours and he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue past your parted lips. You release a content sigh into his mouth when you feel his cock resting against your center. You lower your hand from his waist and you push it between your bodies, and down to his hardening cock. You wrap your hand around his thick shaft and you drag the head of him against your folds.

“Fuck Y/n” he sighs, pulling away from your lips. You lock your eyes with his and you line his cock back up with your entrance before lightly tugging at him to push back into you. Keeping his eyes locked into yours, Harry slowly pushes back into you. 

“Harry” you whimper. Your mouth hangs open as he pushes all the way inside of you. When Harry pushed into you before the both of you were bursting at the seams with sexual tension. Now that you and Harry were calm and in a relaxed state, you could feel everything like before, but times 10.

Now Harry’s head was beginning to spin. He couldn’t believe how beautiful you were all the way around. Not to mention the way your walls were wrapped around him. He just wanted to stay like this forever. 

“Fuck-please move.” You beg. Harry begins to give you slow and deep thrusts, filling you all the way up with his cock. He went so deep inside of you that he could feel the outline of his cock moving inside of you against his stomach. He continues to slowly thrust into you, giving that the both of you wanted to slow things down and just take each other in. But, unfortunately your time alone was coming to an end. Out of nowhere, theres a loud knock on the door from outside. One of the producers was letting you both know that filming wag going to pick back up in 20 minuets. 

“I guess all good things must come to an end” Harry groans into your neck.

“We always have tonight.” Even though you sounded optimistic, you were feeling just like Harry. 

“I guess so” he mumbles before picking his head up from your neck.

“I’ll let you eat me out again if we get up now.” As soon as you say this, Harry perks up and he instantly gets excited.

“Then what are we waiting for!”

Masterlist

[freddve]

meet the npc: matilda ‘tilda’ ritchie golding haum

1. how old are they and what do they look like?

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐚 '𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐚' 𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐦, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | the oldest golding sibling. mother of two dogs and an adopted son. ceo of goldingium & ajaxco. capricorn sun, virgo moon, pisces rising. insufferable genius. sugar-and-ice personality. daddy’s girl. the broken ace. the dutiful child. emotionally tongue-tied. the responsible sibling.

tilda’s the product of an unplanned pregnancy — the sole reason why the marriage between mr. golding & miss nesin was brought forward by almost two years. she’s the voice of reason and a perfect example of how the golding children should behave. named after mr. golding’s grandfather ritchie golding, she was destined for greatness. a lady in her neutral toned power suits. birkin bags & louboutin red bottoms. custom made blue light glasses. nude lips. manicured baby pink nails.

the beatrice to all the dantes out there. she’s the epitome of divinity & she knows it.

2. what kind of a presence do they have in your muse’s life? do they have a positive or negative relationship?

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡'𝐬 ( she’s always been peach for tilda, never frederica or freddie ) relationship is complicated. being the oldest sibling, there’s a twenty-four year age gap between them. at first, tilda was like a mother — scratch that, she was freddie’s mother; still living with her parents, tilda woke up at odd hours, soothing peach when she just would not stop crying. she was also freddie’s first friend & confidant. days when she was around to keep peach busy, you could hear the sighs of relief coming from the au pairs rooms.

matilda didn’t really grow up in a strict household — mrs golding was twenty-four when she had her; all it took was an army of nannies to raise their first born. still, matilda’s always felt like a burden to her parents, in her mind, she was the final nail in the coffin. so she promised herself she would make it up for it by proving goldings she’s not a fault, but a blessing.

their relationship was irreversibly damaged once she moved out, leaving her little peachy behind. to be honest, freddie’s always been too much to handle and patience has never been matilda’s forté. tilda expected freddie to be like her, a perfect copy of the perfect daughter, the opposite sides of the same coin, but frederica wouldn’t or couldn’t rise to her level, that tilda cannot really tell. 

3. are they revered in irving? do they have bad blood with anyone?

𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬, matilda’s never been to irving. freddie doubts she could point it on a map — kinda silly considering matilda’s literally a genius, but yes freddie babe, you do you. 

that being said, she has two beach houses in the area. despite never bothering to visit, she bought those for mrs golding, as she’s a big fan of irving. 

4. if your muse is no longer in contact with them, how did the relationship end? did your muse get closure over this?

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 haven’t spoken since the day after the wedding fiasco. matilda suggested the location for freddie’s exile, hoping the life away from temptations would set her straight. after throwing a tantrum & calling matilda a mistake, mother wannabe — freddie knew how to hurt her, and she wanted to hurt her bad, matilda left the room and didn’t attend the family dinner aka frederica’s farewell party. at first, it really felt like an exile. freddie believed she was being punished for not being like tilda. or tilda was jealous of her. either way, her sister hated her, and she was sure of it. but now, it’s been over eight months since freddie moved here, and she’s beginning to see why matilda chose irving out of all the places. 

memories are tricky. sometimes they fool you. a few months ago, after not receiving a birthday call from matilda, freddie went through her famous treasure chest and came across a postcard sent by matilda, dated the same summer freddie spent in irving. it looked gross and brown-ish, like she spilled coffee on it, and perhaps she did, but she could still read some parts of it, including “if you like it that much i should come and see there myself, but now baba needs me. you take care of mom + irving sun for me, okay? kisses, tilda”. 

frederica being frederica, she didn’t call matilda, but after years of troubled sleeping schedule, that night freddie slept like peach used to. an old piece of card with smudged writing was the proof she needed; her sister only wants the best for her. 

frederica peach golding’s treasure chest

ok, her treasure chest doesn’t fit the task, but i wanted to include it lol. frederica moved around a lot, sometimes within city limits, sometimes abroad, but often times it felt like she was hopping from one planet to another, always the alien, always the new kid. 

moving was fun. she got the plan her room, mrs & mr golding let her do whatever the hell she wanted. age ten, she even got herself a secret room like hannah montana’s, because why not? but it didn’t last for long. she was rapidly losing interest in decorating room after room, treating them as a c list rock band would with motels,  throwing fits & breaking things, not really including herself. the solution was easy — emptying the box tilda gifted her, frederica began to store her favourite items from each room. if it didn’t fit her treasure box, she wouldn’t take the item with her. so far, she has her signed twilight poster, a few memorable items like her grass ring, glitter pens, the rules of her secret language ( that she’s forgotten about ), family photos, a broken ipod, a piece of brick from the demolition of her childhood room, shrek dvd & finally left leg of her favourite toy, mr lollipop buns ( he was a big, stuffed rabbit plushie and wouldn’t fit the box, so freddie thought it would be best to perform an amputation on him - mr lollipop buns lives with her third nanny, isla’s children with his one leg).  

she has it hidden under her bed. has many colourful yet ugly stickers on it, and she wrote ‘fred’s not secret box’ hoping it would be enough to keep curious individuals away from her treasure box.

[ri-ahhh]

idk if you’ve heard the song toxic by kehlani but maybe you could write something based off that song where a tipsy y/n calls up her on and off ex (grayson) to come over 👀 i love your writing btw

It’s already late when your best friend Fallon knocks sharply on the front door of your apartment. You had texted her not even half an hour ago, all up in your feels after you saw Grayson’s Snapchat story of him and some friends at the beach, an unfamiliar and pretty blonde girl tucked under his arm in one of the photos. She had responded immediately, letting you know she was on her way.

Feet clad in your fuzzy pink slippers, the strings of Grayson’s old hoodie keeping the hood cinched around your face tightly, you heave yourself off your comfy couch and trudge over to the front door to let her in. When you swing it open, she’s standing there with her hands full with her purse in one and an obvious brown paper bag in the other.

You stand aside silently, letting her pass the threshold and dump her shit on the kitchen island. “You didn’t have to bring alcohol, Fal, you know I don’t drink like that anymore.”

“Exactly,” Fallon deadpans, whipping out the bottle from the bag. “You stopped drinking because of Grayson Dolan. I think you owe it to yourself to let yourself start drinking because of him, too.”

You push the hood off your head and take the blue bottle from her when she offers it to you. Your brows raise. “You bought me Don Julio to cry over my ex? Isn't this, like, $50 for a bottle?”

Fallon waves a hand dismissively. “That’s exactly why I got it; you’re not gonna cry over your ex. Wine of any kind is crying juice. Vodka makes you a dumb bitch, and bottom shelf tequila makes you cry, a dumb bitch, and a ho. You need the good stuff, so we can bring out the bad bitch. Who can talk about her ex, get it all out, without crying again, or texting him, or posting a thirst trap.”

You roll your eyes. “That was only one time I accidentally sent you that nude instead of Grayson. And we were still together, so it didn't count as being a ho. I was just giving my boyfriend good spank bank material.”

Fallon is already rummaging through your cabinets, in search of the nearly-forgotten shot glasses. “Babe, you know I support every woman’s right to be a ho as much as she wants, especially after a breakup, but this is Grayson we’re talking about. You two were so into each other, it was toxic. You fought all the time, and by your own admission fixed everything with sex. You’re addicted, and as your best friend, I’m inserting myself here to keep you from talking to him anymore.”

She turns around, two little glasses in hand, and looks at you then the bottle in your hands pointedly. You give in and pull out the stopper and the Don Julio Blanco to her. 

“Now, I’m not gonna get you drunk. But we’re gonna get enough in you to loosen up that tongue, you’re gonna get all your Grayson shit out before I leave, and we’re gonna go to bed happy and feeling better,” she says matter-of-factly, pouring the clear liquid into the glasses. She hands one of them to you. “Cheers, bitch.”

Right before you clink and tap, Fallon’s phone buzzes. She leans over to check it where it’s resting on the counter, and her eyes widen. “Shit...”

“What?” you ask concernedly. Fallon puts down her glass and starts typing madly.

“It’s my downstairs neighbor. She said Roxy’s been barking for nearly an hour straight and she’s gonna file another noise complaint if I don’t get there to let her out.” She stops for a moment and looks at you. “Shit. I’ll get evicted if I get another one. Like actually evicted.”

Fallon’s dog Roxy has serious attachment issues, which is usually extremely annoying, but right now you're thanking her. You love Fallon to death, but this isn’t exactly the friend therapy you needed or expected when you called her up to come over. 

“Dude, go! I promise I’m fine. I don’t need to worry about you being homeless on top of my shit.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, babe, I promise I’ll FaceTime you as soon as I’m home.” She’s gathering her things, leaving the tequila open on the counter. “Make good choices, please. Love you!”

“Love you!” you call out behind her as she rushes through the door.

The door slams, and it leaves a ringing silence almost as loud as your best friend. You look around at your suddenly empty apartment, your eyes landing on the still-full shot glasses.

What the hell? You snatch one of them off the counter and down it with a grimace. Admittedly, it was the best tequila you’ve ever had, but it’s still tequila. The burn travels down your esophagus and settles in your near-empty belly. The sensation reminds you that you’ve hardly eaten today, and one shot was probably more than enough considering your lack of food and the fact that you’ve probably reverted to being an extreme lightweight after not drinking for so long. 

You and Grayson have barely been broken up for a month, and despite how hard it’s been, you haven't been tempted to touch more than a glass of wine or an occasional Whiteclaw if the stress of the day was too much. But it never felt right to have more. Grayson is still a part of you, even though that’s part of the reason you broke up to begin with. The two of you were becoming codependent on each other, which was turning into jealousy and neediness that built up into huge, explosive fights and ended with you fucking on whatever surface was nearest.

It was, indeed, a vicious, toxic cycle. Even though you tell yourself it’s for the best, you also can’t shake the feeling that the two of you aren’t done. That there’s still hope for your relationship, especially now that you’ve spent time apart.

Fallon’s tactics have backfired as you stomp back to the couch and snatch your phone off the cushion. Julio has given you the liquid courage you need to do exactly what Fallon told you not to.

I miss u

A classic. You wish you had it in you to be more creative, but the simple truth of it is: you do miss him. You miss his laugh. You miss his smell. You miss coming home to him, either here or at his house, after a long day. You miss his kisses. You miss his dick. 

There’s little shame for yourself in admitting that. You used it to solve your problems, but you were blind to that before the breakup. Everything is more clear now, especially the fact that you still love him deeply. 

Suddenly, your phone starts buzzing. You don’t even look at the caller ID, assuming it’s Fallon calling impatiently from her car. 

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

The deep voice on the other end of the phone startles you, and you hold it away from your face to see his name in big, white letters. No longer ‘Gray’ with some heart emojis, but ‘Grayson Dolan.’

You swallow hard and put the phone back to your ear. “Uh, hi, Hey.”

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “I, uh, got your text.”

You don’t say anything, picking at a piece of fluff on your slipper.

“I miss you too. Like, a lot. Too much.”

You bite your lip tightly, chewing it nervously. You hadn’t expected him to fucking call. Calling and texting had two very different vibes. Over text, you would probably say something cute and calm and ask if the two of you could get coffee tomorrow.

But a call? You can hear his voice for the first time in weeks. It makes you want to jump through the phone and wrap him in your arms, to cry in his chest -- from happiness or sadness, you’re not sure. Either way, this is the closest you’ve felt to him in so long, and it makes you weak.

Grayson may be loud, but he’s good at shutting up when he wants an answer. It’s one of the things that drove you most crazy when you fought. He’d yell his piece, then stare at you until you had a retort. Sometimes you did, sometimes you didn't; you were always both at fault, for the most part. 

You take a deep breath and find your voice at last. “Me too. I...I haven’t been doing so great. Without you.”

She hears him sigh. “Me neither.” He pauses, and you wait anxiously. “Look, I’ll be honest. I was with Ethan when I got your text and he...well, he doesn’t think it’s a good idea that I called you. Or that we’re talking to each other, period.”

He leaves his sentence hanging, almost like an open-ended question without phrasing it as such. You can't stop the laugh from bubbling past your lips as you shake your head. “Fallon was just over at my place and said the same thing. So that either makes us really fucking stupid, or our best friends just don’t understand.”

“Famous last words, either way,” Grayson chuckled with you. You can hear crickets chirping in the background, and imagine he’s sitting outside by the pool. The two of you used to like to do that together.

You decide to follow his example and head out to your balcony, plopping down in one of the plastic chairs with your knees tucked to your chest. “What do you think about us talking, then?”

He doesn't miss a beat. “I think I miss you. And I love you. And I know I fucked up a lot, but I’ve been actually reflecting on everything that was wrong with us and I think I know now what I can do better. This time apart has been really fucking hard, but I think it was a good thing. For me, anyways.”

Your lip finds its way between your teeth again. You clamp it hard to hold back the shake in your voice. “Me too, Gray. I wasn’t perfect by any means, either. But as long as we both know what we need to work on, I want to try again if you do.”

“I do want that,” Grayson sighs, relief flooding his voice. He laughs that laugh you missed so much. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve been driving E crazy having these meltdowns all the time thinking about how I fucked up so bad that I wouldn’t ever get you back.”

You smile into your knees, and decide in that moment to risk it for the sake of your biscuit, which throbs at the mere thought and sound of him. “Is it too early to mention that I miss all of you?”

“Careful, or I might think you only want me back for my body.”

“I mean, I definitely had to use my imagination a few times without the real thing. I only had to think of you, though. How good you fuck me.”

This right here is probably where the tequila is coming in to play. Fallon was wrong again; you’re about to go Full Ho, having phone sex with your kind-of ex.

His breath picks up nearly imperceptibly, but you can also hear the smirk in his voice. “How many times did I make you squirt in the tiny house shed that one time, baby? That was so hot.”

“Mm, it was so good, Gray. I remember you had to carry me inside to your bed because I couldn’t walk. And then you fucked me nice and hard on your bed.” A rush of wetness floods your panties, and you squeeze your thighs together. “You came all in my mouth that night. I miss how your cum tastes.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Can I come over?”

You hesitate. You think of Fallon, of Ethan, of Don Julio. Of Grayson.

“Yes. Please.”

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 16 - In Which Charles Vane Destabilizes the London Real Estate Market and Takes a Bath

Also known as the chapter I finally write the Charles Vane bath bomb scene that is the entire reason I began writing this fic. It still turned out more weird and angsty than I wanted it to. But here we are.

Charles has been acting a bit strange lately. Strange in a way that doesn't match his usual strangeness. In fact, one might say that this new strangeness is completely antithetical to his normal sort of hyper-aggressive, hyper-masculine nonsense.

That's not to say Charles has gone soft. He's still going to the underground bare knuckle boxing ring at least two days a week to bash other toughs' heads in, returning home in the early hours of the morning, bloody and bruised and grinning that feral sort of grin that makes Jack's guts writhe with a combination of desire and fear.

Because Charles Vane is a predator. Leonine in build and appearance, but more than that, he's a hunter. And most people on the other end of that look perish by his blade.

The ones that don't tend to become intimately familiar with an entirely different sort of blade – Eleanor Guthrie being a prime example.

And as much as Jack might enjoy that type of, heh, swordplay, he knows that it's a terrible idea. Particularly now, when the team is so cohesive. Charles and Mary have formed an unexpected but heartening accord with each other and with Max. Jack's own relationship with Max remains cordially businesslike, but that suits them both perfectly fine. And Jack has absolutely no desire to pry into Max and Anne's relationship.

Perhaps the largest surprise is that Charles has not once tried to challenge Jack's leadership, despite Jack having taken his crew and his command and his whole world. But Charles hasn't even really threatened him since that night in the hotel when Jack had first suggested they all settle down. And Jack is grateful. And he is more than disciplined enough to keep it in his pants to prevent ruining the accord they've all reached. More than able to put the con first and everything else second.

So Jack doesn't let the desire show. Keeps to the flippant and easily brushed off type of dialogue he and Charles have always shared. Non-flirtatious by its very flirtatious nature.

And Jack refuses to let the fear show either.

Because Jack has been on the receiving end of that look several times now, and he's still alive and kicking. And, as previously stated, Charles hasn't ever challenged Jack's leadership. And he's too Charles to ever play the sort of long con to disrupt him from behind the scenes that Jack himself prefers to employ. That Jack has employed against him – and isn't that just a tiny jolt of guilt right in the heart?

Completely unrelated to all of that, Jack has started keeping watch out the front window the mornings after Charles goes out. And when Charles comes up the street, stumbling and grinning and flying higher than the pipe ever got him, Jack is there to put a narrow shoulder under his thick arm. There to help him limp through the front door and into the front hall bathroom to collapse on the closed lid of the toilet seat and grin that terrible, frightening, arousing, alive grin up at Jack. Who just dabs at his cuts with the ruined, bloodstained towel he's started keeping in that bathroom solely for that purpose.

And Charles holds still through all of Jack's patching him up and getting him an ice pack for the bruises blooming on his ribs and admonishing him for getting into that state in the first place. And Charles lets Jack lead him up to bed and sit with him for a bit as he falls asleep, Jack brushing his long hair off his forehead so the blood and the sweat doesn't glue it to his skin as he sleeps.

Charles looks so peaceful like this, all tucked into clean sheets, with Jack's hand running gently through his tangled hair. Peaceful in a way he never looked with a needle in his arm. And Jack's honored to get to see him like this. With his guard down. Vulnerable.

Vulnerable is not the word one would have ever used to describe the Charles Vane from the streets. But this Charles Vane, the one who moved into a real house, if under protest. This Charles Vane seems more than content to let Jack and Anne and Mary see a side of him he's never shown before. And Jack keeps that trust close to his heart like a treasure.

But he's always been a greedy sonofabitch, reaching beyond his station, beyond the cards life dealt him by virtue of his birth. And Jack wants more.

--

Jack has kept patching Charles up after he gets back from the fighting ring he joined as a way to keep the pounding of the blood in his veins, the drive to fight and fight and fight until there's nothing in his head and his heart and his arms except the singing of his blood and the cooling tackiness of the blood he spilled. A way of feeling alive. A way of keeping sane that doesn't ruin all their carefully laid plans, all their carefully constructed facades.

It has also conveniently doubled as a way for Charles to keep his ear to the pulse of the street. A way to keep tabs on their former colleagues and competitors. And some outright enemies.

They move in different enough circles, Charles doubts they'll ever end up fighting for turf. But sometimes you need dumb muscle to knock over a mark, drive them further into your arms. Help them understand that they're in danger, but you can help them. You can keep them safe, if only they just trust you.

If only they sign over their soul.

And, and, it's helpful to know what the word on the street is about the rich fuckheads they're trying to con. Cuz sometimes the street knows things about them they don't even know about themselves. Things ratted out and weaseled out and just plain observed by the unfortunates forced to wash their dishes, or clean their houses, or drive their cars, or any number of menial, forgettable tasks that allow the person performing them unfettered access to their vulnerable underbelly that not even eel-slippery Jack or silent watchful Anne or flirtatious Charles have been able to gain access to.

Like, for instance, the fact that the Hennessy family is not nearly so well off as they like to pretend in front of guests. Sure, to the world it's all champagne and caviar and Mediterranean cruises. But Charles is have-a-drink-together-down-the-pub close with a fellow boxer whose wife's cousin's sister is a housekeeper for their big London house. And she knows there ain't hardly money to turn the heat on in winter. Goes to work in three layers and mittens to vacuum the priceless antique rugs and dust the slowly dwindling collection of priceless family heirlooms in the china cabinet and on the cold hearths' mantles.

Which is a good indication that just a little push, just a little pressure to their already cracking facade, and the property could be bought for a song. If only the facade can be maintained. If only there was someone to spin it so they don't lose their place in society. So they don't have to give up the game of pretend they're playing.

So they can pretend they're just going off to live in the relatively inexpensive Maldives because they're sick of English winters and not because the crumbling remnants of British imperial estates can be bought for a comparative pittance. Plus, everyone speaks English so it's properly civilized. Their British friends can be invited for reciprocated holidays without fear of losing face.

That's how Mr. Scott presents it, anyway. With no mention of fact that the islands are being slowly subsumed by the ocean. Not when that's why the deal appears so strongly in the Hennessy's favor. Cuz after all, you get what you pay for.

Charles allowed himself to smirk from the corner as he listens to the sales pitch, having been brought along since he is “friends” with Hennessy's wife, and a gentle hand on her arm, a quiet word about how much he would enjoy visiting their estate in the Maldives - his voice and touch and everything calculated to conjure images of him nude on the beach of said estate, just as Max coached him before the meeting - might do something to sway the conversation. Everyone knows Mrs. Hennessy's got her husband by the balls in a way Anne's admitted to admiring.

But someone like Mr. Scott is more than capable of sealing that particular deal all on his own. Gentle and bland and unassuming Mr. Scott. With skin dark enough and accent pronounced enough the Hennessy's can feel condescending even as Mr. Scott bleeds them dry. But his words are deferential, honeyed, and the facade is maintained. Everyone gets what they want.

So Max is pretty happy with the whole arrangement – with Charles keeping tabs on the London underworld, even if it results in a few scrapes and bruises. Happy with it continuing if he keeps getting results like this. So he'll keep doing it, even if Charles knows Jack isn't as happy.

But Jack's a worrier by nature. The kind of man to think and think and overthink, until he's thought himself into a right tizzy over all the hypotheticals and what ifs and Charles just doesn't understand, cuz he's never been like that. Never borrowed trouble when he's got enough right in front of him.

So Jack worries – mostly about Charles staying safe, he's pretty sure. About him coming home from the fights with cuts and bruises. And not about him blowing the con or anything. Which is kind of nice, really. Charles doesn't think he's ever had somebody worry about him for reasons other than a job. For reasons other than him being strong enough to do the job they need doing.

So Charles lets Jack take care of him, safe in knowing Jack ain't doing it to use against him. And it's nice - especially the getting to drift off to sleep with Jack petting at his hair.

Charles imagines it's like how a mother's supposed to sooth her child to sleep. All tucked into bed in pajamas, with a bedtime story. With the mother staying until he falls asleep, there to keep the monsters in the closet and under the bed away. There to sooth and to love and to care.

Charles never had a mother. Never had anyone to hold him like this, even. To care for him like this.

All his lays, all his fuck buddies – even Eleanor, the closest thing he ever had to a stable relationship – they'd all expected to fuck off as soon as the fucking was over. Or expected him to fuck off as soon as he got his rocks off. There was no lingering, no sentimentality.

And if they ever spent the night, his lovers – Eleanor, mostly – they expected him to be the one to hold them. And he'd expected it of himself, too. He's big and strong and tough. Protective. That's about as soft and sentimental as he'd ever let himself get.

So it's nice to be able to let himself be taken care of by people he knows won't use his vulnerability against him. And that's probably why he lets Jack talk him into taking a fucking bubble bath of all fucking things.

--

Jack has always been the type of person to push his luck. The kind of person who can never leave well enough alone. The kind of person who refuses to be content with what he has, always striving for bigger, for better, for more.

So that's probably why he thought it was a good idea to convince Charles into taking a bath with him one morning.

He's less beat up than usual. No bleeding, minimal bruises. Just that look in his eye that promises... Jack doesn't even want to start thinking about what it might promise.

Yes, absolutely no problem with getting naked together with a man looking like that.

Jack may, in fact, be very, very stupid. But Charles had agreed to the bath, swayed by Jack's argument that it would be relaxing, presumably. That it would help the lingering chill left from the dank parking garage Charles had spent the night in and from the walk home in the early hours of the morning.

And, in true Charles fashion, because that man knows absolutely no shame - and certainly not for anything so mundane as nudity - he'd simply nodded at Jack, proceeded up the stairs and into Jack's en-suite bathroom, and started stripping.

Jack turns away and busies himself with filling the frankly ostentatiously large tub. His doubts are beginning to have doubts about the soundness of this plan. But it's too late. Charles is already climbing into the bath. And the sigh of relaxation he makes as he sinks into the water makes any discomfort Jack feels more than worth it.

Jack's thrown something into the bath that bubbles and fizzes and smells sweetly of lemon and darkly of something spiced that makes Charles a lot more happy about this whole bubble bath idea. He'd been a bit worried he was going to walk out of this thing smelling like an entire fucking rose garden. But it seems like he'll be at most smell like he's taken a walk through a citrus grove, which is bearable. At least until he realizes that not only is the soap turning the water different colors, but there's a shiny slick of gold glitter riding along the top of the water.

Glitter he's sure he's going be washing out of his asscrack in the shower later.

And it seems pretty stupid to him to take a bath where you have to take a shower after. And he bitches to Jack about it. But then Jack's stripping down and getting into the tub, water up to his chin, and the smug look he's giving Charles – the look that says he knows that Charles is enjoying this, even if he won't admit it – that look makes Charles have to splash him with the foaming, sparkling water. There's no other choice really.

And then Jack splashes him back. And Charles just has to put him in a headlock – one tight enough he can't get out of it easily, the slippery bastard. And they're slopping water all over the bathroom floor, but it'll clean up easily enough. It's not like they don't have an overabundance of decadently soft towels in the fucking ridiculous built in linen cupboard.

So they wrestle playfully for a bit, Jack giving nearly as good as he gets despite being smaller. But he's never been afraid of playing dirty – something Charles has always admired – and the roughhousing ends with Jack's arm around Charles's throat. Well, really it ends when Charles sits on him, the only move available that wouldn't actually hurt Jack.

And Jack's arm moves from pressing gently, carefully, against Charles's windpipe down his chest until it's wrapped around his stomach, holding him closer.

Charles slumps down into the water. Leans back against Jack's skinny chest.

And then Jack starts scrubbing through Charles's hair, fingers massaging against his scalp. And that feels. Nice.

Nice enough that when Jack directs Charles to dunk his head underwater, enough to completely wet his hair, enough that Jack could hold him under until his thrashing limbs stopped twitching and he stopped breathing, Charles does it.

Jack guides Charles up out of the water. Guides him to lean back against him. Starts massaging at his scalp again, combing his fingers through Charles's wet hair, working out the strands until they're floating loose around his head like a halo.

They stay like that until the water cools.

Charles gets up and hoses all the fucking glitter off – berating an unrepentant Jack the entire time. But at least he does promise to use bath bombs that don't have glitter in the future. So there's that.

Charles pretends he isn't happy that there will be other times when they get to do this.

And Charles cleans up the disaster of spilled water around the tub while Jack showers. And Jack leads Charles from the bathroom into his bedroom. Lets Charles curl up in his bed.

And despite his halfhearted protests to the contrary, Charles is pretty fucking happy to drift off to sleep to the gentle tug and pull of Jack combing through his damp hair where it spreads across Jack's pillows.

[mercurypilgrim]

OC Interview

@a-muirehen​ tagged me to do this, thanks! ^_^

Pick three companions who know your OC/muse well. Answer the questions from at least one of their companions points of view. Replace anywhere it says Ven’fir with your OC’s name. Name the three companions who will be answering here:

1. Vette

2. Quinn

3. Jaesa

Are they ready to be candid with their responses? Don’t worry, this is totally private. Ven’fir will never read it.

1. First Impressions. What was the first impression you had of Ven’fir?

Vette: “I thought he was weird. Actually I still think he’s weird. He was different back then. Sharper, I would say. Less pleasant to be around. He was a brat, and he was vicious. I liked him, though. He was strangely kind to me, and as I got to know him I realised that he’s more complicated than many people give him credit for. Still weird, though.”

Quinn: “I agree with Vette, much as it pains me to do so. My lord was... different, when he was younger. I admired him for his strength and his dedication to the Empire. I ah, I also found his flirting to be quite difficult to deal with.”

Jaesa: “I didn’t know what to think of him. He wasn’t like any other Sith I’d met, that was for sure. Like no other person, really. He was such a chaotic shade of grey, I can’t describe what touching his mind felt like. He’s a good master and a better friend. I care about him deeply, and I know he feels the same for me.”

2. Ven’fir walks into a bar. No, it’s not a joke - what does he order? If you give him a credit for the jukebox, what kind of music would he put on?

Vette: “Oh stars, this is giving me flashbacks. How many times did we peel him off the floor? Too many. Ven can drink a lot, and he likes the strangest stuff. For such a tough guy, he has a huge weakness for fruity, pretty cocktails. As for music? Something hard and heavy.”

Quinn: “My lord likes a drink now and then, and he’s got a fondness for sweet things. I... I suppose I find that endearing. As for his music taste... Well, it leaves much to be desired.”

Jaesa: “Cocktails, the fruitier the better. You’ve not lived until you’ve seen a Sith that’s cleared battlefields sitting at the bar listening to heavy metal while sipping a tropical cocktail with an umbrella in it.”

3. How does Ven’fir spend a day off from work?

Vette: “Naked, probably. Actually, drop the ‘probably’. I swear any moment that he and Quinn have off, they’re fuckin’ each other. Don’t look at me like that Captain Carbonite, you know it’s true.”

Quinn, blushing: “Shut up, Vette. That’s highly inappropriate! My lord has many hobbies. He enjoys reading and watching holomovies, even if his taste is... suspect. He likes to write and spend time in the gym, too. He likes to dance, and he’s very good. I like spending time with him, when my work permits.”

Jaesa: “He writes fanfiction, and he trolls his fanclub. I only know because sometimes he asks me to proof read for him. He’s quite good, actually. He’s got me into the Warm Hearts, Cold Space series and I see why he likes it. It’s quite enthralling. I wonder if he would like it if I drew some art of it for him?”

4. What silly superstitions or funny traditions does he observe?

Vette: “He’s a dork, but at least he’s funny about it. He’s not superstitious but he does do things in a particular way or it’ll bother him. I think he’s learned how to stay focused as much as he can. He refuses to start tasks until the time is an increment of ten so he can measure it, and he writes a million lists. He usually loses them later, though. It’s kinda cute, sometimes.”

Quinn: “My lord does have certain rituals that he observes. For example, his bedtime routine is very involved and he never misses a step. He cares for his appearance and it’s often quite calming to watch him. He tries very hard to keep on top of things, and he does an admirable job.”

Jaesa: “He collects a lot of things that have sentimental value. He always seems to find little items or random things to take with him wherever he goes, and I know for a fact he keeps the really special ones in a little box. He puts others in his apartment. It’s strange really, but I never used to think a Sith could be sentimental. Of course they are, they never let go of anything.” 

5. What does Ven’fir wear to bed? And just how do you know that?

Vette: “He’s got these stupid sleeping pants. They’re way too long and about a size too big. They trail on the floor, and it looks ridiculous. I know because he has no shame and doesn’t bother to get dressed before breakfast.”

Quinn, blushing: “Uh yes, what Vette said.”

Vette: “Yeah, sure. I’m sure you don’t have any other details.”

Quinn: “None that I would share, no. It’s an invasion of his privacy.”

Vette: “He’s posed nude for a karking Lifeday calendar, do you really think he cares if you tell everyone he sleeps naked sometimes?”

Quinn: “... He wasn’t completely nude. He was wearing a hat.”

Jaesa: *sigh*

6. Your favorite memory of Ven’fir?

Vette: “When he helped me with the Star of Kala’unn. It was when I really knew he was my friend, you know? No one had ever really done anything like that for me, and I’ll always be grateful to the big idiot.”

Quinn: “I have quite a few. I expect most people would assume it would be our wedding day, but... I think the day he proposed to me for the second time takes the top spot, as well as when we found each other again on Odessen. I... Yes, I think on those times often.”

Jaesa: “When he comforted me after I joined his crew. I was a mess, then. I’d left everything I knew again, and I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing. He came to me, I think he sensed my feelings, and he just... sat with me. Talked. He talked so much I think I forgot to be sad. He managed to make me laugh. He never told me to abandon my Jedi teachings, never demanded I embrace the dark side. He taught me, and those times are some of my fondest memories.”

7. A time you very nearly almost kissed Ven’fir?

Vette: “I’ve kissed his cheek before, I think. I was wasted. We’d celebrated after some... thing. I don’t even remember what.”

Quinn: “I don’t think this question applies to me.”

Vette: “Mm, because there’s no ‘almost’ involved? As if anyone could miss you two being disgustingly sappy.”

Quinn, blushing: “Vette, please stop.”

Jaesa, embarrassed: “Never. He’s my Master, and I don’t think of him that way. He’s not repulsive, but... no. That’s never happened.”

Vette: “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear that you consider him ‘not repulsive’.”

Jaesa: “Vette, you know what’s not what I meant!”

8. Vacation time! Where do you take Ven’fir for some R&R?

Vette: “Anywhere with a beach. He’s not happy unless he’s wandering around half naked, shades on and a cocktail in his hand.”

Quinn: “A beach resort would be my choice for him too, but he does like to stay active. Anywhere with hiking trails or sports would entertain him too, I think.”

Jaesa: “Vacation with Ven’fir doesn’t usually involve a huge amount of ‘rest’ or ‘relaxation’. He’s always got to be doing something, and he can only lay on a beach for about an hour before he’s got to get up and swim or explore something.”

9. Ven’fir’s sense of humor -is it dry, immature, sarcastic, self-deprecating, physical, witty, dark, or…?

Vette: “It’s like a fourteen year old got into the smutty side of the holonet. He’s prone to sarcasm, too. He’s got a good sense of humour, thank the stars.  I couldn’t travel with someone as boring as Quinn, for example. No offense, Captain Carbonite.”

Quinn: “...Some taken, Vette. My Lord’s sense of humour is... expansive. He’s quite quick with his jokes, so I think he’s rather witty. Of course, the next moment he’s laughing about a funny noise that the chair made, so I find it rather hard to classify.”

Jaesa: “He can be quite vicious when he’s slighted and he sometimes makes mean comments about people who he doesn’t like. I shouldn’t find them funny, but I really do. I can’t help it.”

Tagging: @darkshadeless, @outcastcommander and... @tearlessrain !

[themostexpensiveboningknife]

2020

Failed party, money in drawer, communicate, move house, move boxes, drive in van, walk to shops, buy noodles, think it’s the end, see whole bus of soldiers in Beijing, new area, walk in darkness, think about leaving, leave, think its temporary, in taxi, post stupid photos, check and check again phone, think people with goggles on my plane are over reacting, take off my mask to eat, keep taking off to loosen, arrive back in London. Tube. Cold. Pub. Party at WeWork. Exhibition at Dulwich Gallery. Farringdon. Drugs and drinks. Brockley, South east London. DJ. Ethiopian food. Morley’s Peckham. Walking on the River. Photographer friend’s house. Canal cycle. National Gallery. Car crash, Dalston. Omar Souleyman. Corsica Studios. Meet girl, back to my friends, back to hers, sex. Morning up to mum’s best friends birthday, Covent Garden restaurant. In a van, Sunday roast. Chisenhale Gallery. arebyte Gallery. Getting worse in China, seems nice and easy and calm in England. Camberwell beers and more. Second-hand book shops, Charing Cross Road. Courtauld. Leafed through a book about a man who lived his entire 86.5 years in East London. Still talking to the same girl back in China. Both believe I’ll be back soon. Chicken wings. West London, meal. South London pub. DJing somewhere inside. Kent, see grandma. Rave, Bermondsey. Friends from Israel and Germany arrive. More drinks, more drugs. Mixing friends. Gay bar in Bethnal Green for old friend’s birthday. Acid, confused and hilarious. Tate Britain. Serpentine. Cranes on the bridge. Liverpool Street film screening. Feels shallow, but good. Begin regular E Pellici sojourns. Primrose Hill with Dad. Beer festival with Keaton and co. Peckham, school friend’s house, bad vibe. More drinks, more drugs. Working on first music compilation with Slowcook and Fafa. Begin watching all of the Studio Ghibli movies. Watching Breaking Bad. At some point have huge argument with my brother, it went like this: He came home from work and I was sitting watching Breaking Bad, he asks, “Have you been like that all day?” I either took it in the wrong way or picked up on a sly dig. It was probably me, but at this point I was pretty self-conscious and worried about going back to China and whether or not I would have a job back there. Was getting surprisingly pissed off with my brother mentioning his work, felt like an affront to me. Weird. He goes crazy (he has a short fuse), punching a wall, ready to fight me. My mum is pretty upset. A few days later I go into his room and try to patch things up. Turns into a deeper chat. He feels like I haven’t been a good brother to him, he gives the example of not looking out for him on his first days of school. I say I’m sorry, it’s because I’m a bit scared and insecure. In retrospect I regret a little laying so much weakness on the table, seems his interactions/ways of acting around me have changed a bit. Still not sure how I feel about it all. Considered getting a gold tooth with Matthew. Play with cats, enjoying them more and more. Rave in Dalston, good music from Asia and beyond. Looking at magazines. Not doing much work at all. Being out and about instead. Go to Norfolk. It’s beautiful, but get way too drunk on first night, sick everywhere, wake up naked in sick. Massive fucking shitshow. Majority of people there have no choice but to act weirdly around me now, which is understandable. Still some nice aspects. One girl there surely hates me a lot. Tate Modern. Art stuff by self is good. Corsica Studios, semi-art, semi-music event. Mr. Bao for first time of many. Radio in Tottenham. Take drugs. Pubs. Drive to Asda with brother to stock up on food. It’s March and the reality of the pandemic is hitting. More canal cycling. First and only group chat on Zoom. BH Funk. Probably have taken cocaine and messaged one of three or four girls numerous times by now. If there’s one, in the cold light of day, horrible and disgusting thing I’ve done too much this year it’s this. Incessant messaging of poor girls that I know will react (although increasingly they don’t, I manage to alienate even close friends in this way). Southbank and The Mall with Nick. Reading about Wuhan. List of good texts. Continuing to do some writing. Making WeChat posts for guī WeChat, including mix series and miniessays. Greenwich park with Matthew. Grime quiz online. Delivering food regularly for my mum’s school. Hackney Marshes with Luan. Epping Forest with Mum and Dad. By this point probably have woken up feeling sorry for myself in Ludo’s flat, after untold amounts of alcohol and cocaine. Online rave. Beijing artists only mix. Go to Switzerland, pass through Italy on the way. Its breath taking, the mountains, the expanse of scenery, not used to it. Climbing up mountains with no one around. Rolo and Patrick and Rita smoke too much weed. I really, really, really still hate smoking it. Feel a bit annoyed how long we spend sitting around while they smoke, but this is way outbalanced by the uniqueness of where we are and the beauty all around. Producing more and more, actually getting somewhere. Cooking more and more food. Reading more and more, like: Black and British, The Corrections, Real Fast Food, Bass, Mids, Tops, Zadie Smith, Olivia Lang, Graham Greene, JG Ballard, Monica Ali, Mo Yan, Jenny Zhang, John le Carre, Naked Lunch, Nabokov, Bukowski, Zora Neale Hurston, Wiley, Bitcoin, Murakami, Judith E. Butler, The Painter of Modern Life, Maupassant, Chekov, Video Art, Gravity’s Rainbow (couldn’t finish), Anaïs Nin, The Net Delusion (couldn’t finish), The Establishment and how they got away with it (couldn’t finish), Roddy Doyle, The Secret of Scent, General Intellects, Women In Love, The Intelligent Investor, Lyndon Johnson. Victoria Park more often than I can remember. To Chrissy’s house. Mile End Park. Very regularly sitting on the river in Wapping. Bring the chessboard and play Ludo sometimes, people smile and look at you differently when you’re playing chess and drinking beers versus just sitting and drinking beer. I May Destroy You. Industry. The beautiful wide expanse of Hackney Marshes. My incessant quest to reach 1000 followers in Instagram. More cycling, and I hate to say it but it really was: Here there and everywhere. Margate with my Dad to see my grandma in hospital and saw the Turner Prize exhibition. Light blue like scrubs, the sky and sun felt eternal. Swimming in dirty water. Make a DJ mix of old 2000s Road Rap. Eat cheese in Peckham. Cycle along the canal north, keep going and going through Tottenham, past Enfield keep going, it’s mad how quickly it becomes quiet fields on all sides, arrive to some kind of lake, swim and then back to the centre of town. Outside a Hawksmoor church in Shadwell ate chicken with Karim and Ludo. DJing. From my bedroom window saw a big crane in the middle of the night sitting on the canal. Begin developing the second DCCY compilation this time with BULLY magazine. Go to a house in an old school in Camberwell. Discover new secret riverside spots in East London. Finally give up my apartment in Beijing. Mile End park. Cycle further and further East to a pedestrian bridge I didn’t know existed. Get onto the beach and into the Thames water. Interview Akito. Begin writing more, after few months of wiling away the summertime. My friend Emmy gets married in Rwanda, I give him some money as a wedding gift which he tells me he used to buy his wife’s dress. Protests in HK always on TV. Get more into finances, crypto and trading, and just saving in general. Had sex with an old friend. Now meeting a girl I first knew years ago in Beijing. More secret river spots. Keaton has his baby, Noah. More times on Hackney Marshes. Barbican conservatory. Watching more films, try to watch all the films of some directors including: Jia Zhangke, Bong Joon-ho, Edward Yang, Wong Kar-wai, Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Decide to watch all of the infamous lauded series, go through Breaking Bad, The Wire and The Sopranos. Go to the seaside for a few days, camping also. Henry Wu album launch in a car park in Bermondsey. Go to visit Keaton’s baby for the first time. Good photography exhibition at Photographer’s Gallery. Go to Wallace Collection again. August. Go to Berlin. Swimming in Berlin lakes until I get an ear infection. It makes me drowsy and lethargic, but still seems to spend all my time cycling around the city. On one night cycle for hours to a rave on the outskirts of the city. Like a lot the abandoned airport in Berlin. Oh yeah, vaping. Found a dead bumble bee. Speak with Nevin about projects. Write a piece about the future of the art world for a magazine being started by Nevin’s friend in Canada. Go to Lithuania. Walk around Vilnius, get too drunk by myself. Get to the Curonian Spit and Nida, beaches and new friends. For the Nightlife Residency project. For a short while life is like on a desert island of new food, new people, new locations, quiet and new meaning. Go to the Russian border on the beach. Cycle to the road boarder and get stopped by the police. Go nude on the beach for the first time. Sauna, sand dunes and forests. DJ out for the first time in ages, this time with Nono. To Kaunus and try nice and stodgy Georgian food for the first time. Hackney Wick back for party. Meet a ginger girl online and go on a date. Wallace Collection again. Free beer and pizza. White Cube. National Gallery, Titian. On BBC Radio London with my Dad. Riverside beers. Saw a lost swan near my front door. Meet Keaton near his work, one of many times. Making more and more music, getting better. Decide I need more organisation and clarity, put everything I’ve done on a blog. More or less long since given up on my job at M Woods. But don’t really begin looking for anything new because it’s still sunny. At some point I start getting benefits money. Go to see La Haine in the cinema. Someone blocks me on WeChat because of me. Some pub somewhere. Sunday walks and breakfast with my parents. Go to an exhibition in Woolworth Road with Muzi. Realise how nice it is to run to Victoria Park along the canal. Vicky Park in general. Dinners at friends’ houses. Museum of London. Walking with Michael in some countryside near London, surprising how quickly things turn green. Break onto a pier in Wapping with Jack. Battersea Park. Tate, Bruce Nauman. Old Street Weatherspoon’s with Keaton, drugs. Central London cemetery. Chinese in Camberwell. Chinese in Aldgate. Italian in Camberwell. More and more exercise, running, weights and yoga with my brother. Sadie Coles. Nick, Central London. Gucci Mane. Hampstead Heath more because Ludo and his flatmates are nearby. Ludo’s now house more for days and nights of you guessed it. Borough Market more, with Emma. Alexandra Palace walk and famous sandwiches after. Tate Britian new lights. More time at Muzi’s. Signing up for cycle courier. LYL Radio show. Shave head. Take acid and it hurts my stomach. Camden Arts Centre with Muzi. Christmas party with friends. Birthday. Cake with Muzi, presents and Indian takeaway from family, walk in Vicky Park with Ludo and Karim plus battered sausage and chips. Christmas at home nice and warming meal. Evening to Ludo’s place with more friends. Boxing day with Matthew, pints and then more at his house in Peckham all night long. Next day is tough! Giant turkey sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey curry. Buy first NFTs. New Year’s Eve stay in at Muzi’s, one drink and a cake.

[seandaly13]

Reading Response 3

Something I found fascinating with the Time and Motion section was the idea that both blurred motion and stopped motion both have their own ways of showing time. In the photograph of Omaha Beach by Robert Capa, the motion blur helps push the chaos of the battle and the frantic nature of trying to survive this bloodbath. On the other side, stopped motion really works when we can see something that we would not normally be able to see. The Queen of Hearts Hit by a .30 Caliber Bullet by Harold Edgerton shows us a frozen piece of time as a bullet rips through a playing card. We can clearly see the bullet which would normally be moving too fast for us to see. That gives us the reference in which we can perceive the motion. I also love how works that implied motion in the past can serve as inspiration for works later on. A good example of this is the Woman Walking Down Stairs photograph by Eadweard Muybridge which would later serve as inspiration for the painting Nude Descending a Staircase No.2 by Marcel Duchamp. In the passage, Vanishing and Becoming, I found the most fascinating thing to be the reference of cinema to using shadow puppets in the wall of a cave, which then leads into Plato’s allegory of the cave. Someone who consumes a lot of media in this day and age will have a very skewed version of reality. The things we see on screen are the shadows of the cave.

[otterenergy1962]

Letting go of old beliefs - part 3

In part 1 and 2, I wrote about life situations that caused me to have limiting beliefs about myself. For this entry, I am focusing on one that has run through the core of my being and has been persistently there for my entire life. As I examine it, I am starting to locate the actual point(s) in time that caused this limiting belief.

I am plain and unattractive.

It is a simple fact that I don’t always see why others people think that I am attractive. Some people even go as far as to say that I already know that or that I take advantage of it. I’ve been accused of being an attention seeker for posting a picture of my weightlifting progress… Many people just make assumptions and seem to be quite willing to express the same to me because they feel safe behind their keyboard.  Would any of them have the courage to say so in front of my face?

One of my old desires was to look like a Tom of Finland drawing. For my straight friends, Tom of Finland was an artist who drew gay men in a hyper-masculine manner. The men were often extremely muscular and well-endowed. I always thought that I was a man who was too far from even being close to resembling a hyper-masculine caricature. I felt very different inside. I was still that overweight kid that had low self esteem and low self worth.

Sometimes guys project their ideas and feelings onto me. I’ve gotten friendship requests on FaceBook from men who seem to be a really nice guys. Once friended and without my request, a dick pic (or other parts of the body) shows up and I feel disappointed because they must only see me for what they believe I am. If I post a picture of myself without my shirt on does that mean that I am a whore and want others to automatically think think that I am seeking such? That I am willing to toss them a nude shot of me without any self-respect?

My ex husband would often say that I was the straightest gay man that he had ever known. He said this because I would often wear jeans and a t-shirt, didn’t seem to have any fashion sense or didn’t partake in the stereotypical gay man’s activities. I didn’t want to sleep around with everyone, didn’t obsess with HGTV, didn’t go to raves stoned on various drugs or believing that the grass might be greener on the other side of some stupid fence so that I could dump one man for a better one…. He even said that I didn’t have the gay designer gene!

After all, I didn’t fit the Tom of Finland stereotype. I liked reading, writing, science fiction, gardening, cooking and more. I liked walking on the beach and camping.   I didn’t ride a motorbike or wear leather and role play hyper-masculine fantasies. So, why didn’t I start acting like I was a Tom of Finland man so that I could PRETEND that I was something that I was not? My ex husband, Henry, did that all the time. I used to giggle about his desire to be a butch leather fantasy man who loved doilies, frilly antique pieces and miniature doll houses! I didn’t deem it necessary to pretend that I was something that I wasn’t.

In my journey of self discovery, I have learned that it is okay to be silly, dance to Madonna in my underwear while making dinner or singing Donna Summer tunes while cleaning the house. By the way, I clean my house in jeans and a t-shirt! How “un-gay” can that be? I love otters, not in the gay sense, but the animal. A gay otter is a man that loves bears. Bears are big and hairy guys. So, I’m not a gay otter, but am nicknamed Otter because I want to be playful like my spirit animal. A friend recently told me that one of things he loves about talking to me is how I say goodbye on a FaceTime call. I wave bye-bye like I do with my students! He says that I have this cute child-like grin on my face and wave quick little wave. He says it is really cute!  Okay, definitely not Tom of Finland! What makes it okay is that I don’t have to conform. I can be anything I want.

As I write this, I think back to when I was a child. I loved to play ball tossing games and skipping rope. Tom of Finland guys don’t skip Double Dutch… or do they? This brings up a question that my friend, Gary, recently asked me. “What would you say to that little kid that loved Double Dutch and tossing a ball against a wall whilst singing songs? Why does he like doing those things?” He would say because it was fun. There wasn’t a rule that said I couldn’t do those things. I didn’t like playing sports that much and seemed to enjoy the girls’ company more than the boys’.

It wasn’t until I was a few years later that I found out that being different would surface in a negative way. Suddenly, the word “Fag” starting being heard. The Double Dutch guy was a fag who felt dumpy and nondescript. I think that I was trying to make myself that way to avoid being noticed. If you made yourself as nondescript as possible, the bullies wouldn’t notice you as much. Duck your head and look the other way! I can even remember telling my mother that I didn’t feel good about myself. She just said that I would grow out of it…

I didn’t. I took that idea into my adult life. I continued to believe that I was nondescript and unattractive. When I came out, men liked me because of my age, or so I thought.  I figured that being young made you attractive. It never occurred to me that I was attractive in some other way.

I’ve already written about the AIDS crisis and how it affected me. When you are HIV+, you see the world through a different lens. In the early years of AIDS, people like me were considered pariahs. You were considered so because people were afraid. I remember the stories of the early years where men who had this unknown disease were isolated in rooms at hospitals, their food trays left in the hallway for fear of getting this unknown disease. For more information, read this article: https://www.out.com/positive-voices/2016/12/01/woman-who-cared-hundreds-abandoned-gay-men-dying-aids#media-gallery-media-1 . Like the men in the story, I felt abandoned. My partner at the time was so afraid of the syndrome that he refused to touch me. In my mind, he abandoned me, so I  abandoned him and tried to move on. Relationships became more and more difficult.  Even hook ups were impossible because I didn’t want to infect someone else by accident. So all those years of dealing with HIV had a major affect on my view of being unattractive and undesirable. It fortified my original concept of myself. Gradually, as I met more HIV+ men, I began to have relationships that were more comfortable, but the effect of the situation has stayed with my all of my adult life.

I’ve also written about how exercise saved my life in those times. I’ve been exercising ever since in the form of weights, aerobics and group fitness classes. I also taught them from 1990-2013 and developed a real sense of physical fitness. In those times, I developed the belief that to be attractive, one had to be muscular and fit. I was able to hide my disability though exercise and bulking up. In all that time, I never considered the possibility of looking inside and seeing the person or soul who had the muscular, fit body. All I could see was an imperfect body, never fit enough, all the flaws with my face, my body, and my soul. I could rally a major list of flaws, but seldom looked at the positives.

It has been in the last few years after major relationships ended, and dealing with cancer that I have come to see what I need to see. I began to look inside for the answers. I am still on that road to understanding and loving myself. I can honestly say that I am an attractive man, not totally because of my outside appearance, but what is also inside. My friend, Gary, again come up with a nugget of wisdom one night as we discussed the difference between being attractive, being desirable, being appealing etc. We even discussed who we thought was stunningly beautiful! The nugget was, “Keep your eyes, ears and heart open to an opportunity to try something new!” I’ve opened all of my senses to take the opportunity to see what is beautiful in me!

So, I was curious about what people thought of me. I asked a group of friends, some of them have been sexual partners and some have been platonic friends. The answers stunned me. The points that came up the most were:

“… you are a man that speaks and acts from your heart and have nothing but the best intentions for those you care about most.”

“You’re incredibly kind and caring. You’ve been kind of like a "Daddy" type to me by nurturing me and giving me tough love when needed. You're an animal lover. You’re intelligent. Strong. All of that. Confident.”

“Your eyes are intense, showing your beautiful soul and genuine warm and caring smile.  Then you’re so warm, kind, respectful, affectionate...  fun and adventurous.”

“You come across as what we call in Arabic, ‘the combination of the opposites’ - you are silent and brooding but at the same time really kind and caring, and you can be goofy and fun when the time calls for it. You are a serious man who has no problem showing emotions and vulnerability. You are strong, yet fragile.”

“You’re kind and easily let people in. And it’s just very easy to be around you, a very welcoming presence.”

Where there examples that showed that they thought I was attractive?  You bet! However, they have been tempered with the above points, telling me that it is more than just what is on the outside, and that the inside is just as important:

“Physically, for me you are definition of what I consider hot, attractive, not pretty girly but stern masculine look and a warm beautiful smile, you’re tall and muscular and very aggressive sexually chemistry that just is a drug to me.”

“Obviously you’re extremely handsome and built. You’re into a lot of fun and hot things, such as rubber and kink.”

“Superficially, you’re ruggedly handsome.”

“Ok, here’s my honest answer: physical aspects: silver, salt and pepper hair and beard are very attractive to me, combined those signs of a well seasoned man with the body of a well trained one and then you have a lethal combo that many can’t resist.”

“And top if off, you’re a very sexy and handsome man. ❤️”

So, can I honestly say that I am attractive? Am I a Tom of Finland kind of guy? The answer has been coming to me more lately. I’ve taken a few selfies and I’ve looked past the crooked smile and the grey hair. I’ve ignored the wrinkles and saw the warmth and beauty in my own eyes. There is a softness and a love that I’ve not noticed before. Is it selfish or conceited to find the self love and the things that make me attractive to myself?  I’m going to have to say no. If anyone says that I am posting pictures of me with my new glasses to just to get attention or to make me feel better by hearing everyone’s opinions… I have have something to say: These guys need to push off and find somewhere else to dump their own insecurities! They need to acknowledge their projections and their own conceptions of self onto me. I’m not a narcissistic man who posts pictures and says, “Look at me! Hello! I am here! I am beautiful and don’t I know it?”  Give me a fucking break!  All I am is a man who looked into the mirror, deep into his own eyes and found the soul and heart of a man that people find attractive and beautiful for many reasons.

I’ve since had that conversation with the little boy inside who thought he was nondescript and unattractive. We’ve consoled each other and come to love each other for all of our traits. Thank you guys (Gary, Bryan, Seann, Ray, Masoud et al), for your comments. Thank you for helping me see that being attractive starts at home in the belief of the self. I love you guys!

Carpe diem!

[not-a-perfect-metaphor]

J2 tinhat summary

For a while now I’ve been wanting to piece together a more comprehensive version of J2 tinhat facts/observations/thoughts/etc., and although the project is obviously an incredibly lengthy one, I figured I would at least create a kind of summary to post in the meantime. Even the summary however is VERY long, and I don’t have the ability to do cuts, so I apologize for that! But I am going to post the summary in a few parts, so here is the first!

This does not follow a linear timeline by the way, just as a heads up, and I’m not including many examples that I’ve already talked about recently to save space.

1. The Js spending holidays together and also vacationing together, like their skiing trip to Whistler, Canada for example and the Padackles family vacation to the Turks and Caicos among others. Recently the Js traveled to Europe, Dubai, and Australia.

2. Of course Jensen’s public move from Malibu to Austin (conveniently near Jared’s house) is a strong piece of evidence. Jensen’s comments about being closer to friends and family don’t make much sense as most of his friends live hours away, and he has also stated several times in the past that he loved living in Malibu and being on the beach, yet he still relocated (to be closer to Jared, we know).

3. This Js have used the word “we” instead of “I” on quite a few occasions while talking about things that should not involve the other J (again, as far as the general public is aware). They have also done the same thing with the word “our” instead of “my” and “us” instead of “me.”

4. Both Danneel and her brother Gino were nearly bankrupt when Danneel began her ‘relationship’ with Jensen. Jensen 100% supported (even way back then) both Danneel and her brother financially, which is often one of the main benefits a faux-spouse receives in the bearding arrangement (financial security and/or the recognition that comes with marrying a celebrity/someone who lives in the public eye).

5. We know for a fact that the Js share clothes and belongings very frequently (and have for many years). Not only do we have photographic evidence of this, but they’ve also both admitted that it’s true.

6. There is now a vast amount of evidence that Jared and Jensen spend a great deal of time with each other’s children, together and by themselves, and keep in mind that even the evidence we do have is likely only a small fraction of the actual reality. They really do seem to function in a lot of ways as one family, which of course makes sense from a tinhat’s perspective.

A few examples that I haven’t posted recently:

Jensen talking about how he used to wear a sherif’s belt and nothing else as a child and then when Jared makes fun of him, reminding Jared that Shep also likes to go nude and that Jensen has to remind him to put clothes on at the breakfast table.

Jensen: “[Jared] was out, so I was watching the kids.”

^ the above blurb by Fangasm

In 2015, Jensen said during a convention panel that he has “kids now,” realizing the error and correcting it to “kid” (he only had one at the time according to public knowledge).

Along the same vein, we can look at things that Genevieve and Danneel have said as well, such as Genevieve stating that one thing she loves about Jared is that “he shows up as a co-parent to our kids.” The definition of co-parenting is “the experience of raising children together as single parents like when a divorce or separation occurs,” or in this case, an agreement to parent together alongside the guise of marriage.

7. At this point the Js have accidentally mentioned so many things that relate to sleeping with each other/being with each other late at night or first thing in the morning etc. that I won’t even try to list them all. But just know that there are many of these examples (I’m happy to specify if anyone wants to send me a message about it).

8. The Js have been spotted dining together (or out at bars/other venues together) on many occasions, less in recent years, some of which have even been described as quite romantic/intimate settings. And of course, again, these are just the ones noticed by the public, not the likely many times the Js have booked private dining arrangements or something else of that nature. I just posted a few of these examples separately if you want to check them out.

9. Jared has forgotten the specifics of his ‘dating’ timeline actually a few times, probably the most well-known of those times being during his Live With Kelly interview where he claimed to have been single at the start of Supernatural when in reality (according to the information given to the general public), he and Sandra McCoy were very much together at that point. He also told an interviewer that he was single and then later on claimed to have been dating Genevieve two full months before that interview took place.

10. I already posted a fantastic humorous account of the many different stories told concerning the period of time Jensen publicly lived with Jared (again, message me if you’d like me to send it to you), but suffice to say…the lies became quite immense and tangled up in each other and the whole thing made many people wonder about what might really be going on between the Js.

11. Jared posed in front of a mural by himself (without Gen) that said “Love will win” in response to Jensen posing in front of a mural earlier that same day that said “Love is love,” a well known LGBT slogan.

12. Jensen has rotated between several different wedding rings, which I have yet to see anyone come up with a believable-enough reason for, but whatever the reason, it certainly is something that makes you wonder.

13. When asked about “finding the one,” Jensen gave a very long, beautiful, thoughtful response during which he never once used the word “she,” “her,” “wife,” etc. (or Danneel’s name). His reply also contained several things that he had previously said (and would say again) to describe Jared and/or his relationship with Jared:

Another similar example is when Jensen was asked about his favorite memory of SPN and he responded with his journey from single-hood to marriage, again not using female pronouns or “Danneel,” who hadn’t had anything to do with the show at that point anyway.

14. This one I remember having to hunt down and verify back when I first started “hardcore hatting,” and yes it is true. Sandy, Jared’s ‘girlfriend’ from years ago, favorited a tweet once in which she was referred to as Jared’s “ex-beard.” I mean, it’s pretty hard to misinterpret that…

15. Gossip columnist Ted Casablanca once pretty much accused Danneel of her relationship with Jensen being fake. Previously to that spat, he had also written an article in response to double engagement rumors saying that “Jensen and Jared would sooner marry each other than who they’re currently rumored to be getting hitched to. If I’m wrong I’ll get Taryn Ryder a date with Ryan Gosling.”

16. Speaking of the engagements, nearly everything about them was highly suspicious. Both occurred on the same weekend under the guise that each J had no idea the other was proposing, despite having said multiple times that they tell each other everything and showing that to be true through their actions as well. When asked on the spot what his proposal story was, Jensen retold the exact proposal story that had taken place a year earlier with Jared and Sandy, changing only the location.

17. Another well-known mishap was the ‘dinner in Italy’ story, told first by Jared in which he claimed to have been with his wife at the time and told second by Jensen at a different convention in which JENSEN was in fact the one who had been with Jared. Of course ironically, nothing would have even seemed strange about the whole thing if the story had been told truthfully from the get-go, but keeping up with lies is far from easy.

18. This one I think we all know. Joanna Krupa, known for her role in The Real Housewives of Miami, has admitted to bearding for someone in the past, and the only real celebrity she’s ever dated was Jensen. Which of course, like many of these observations, is not proof as much as it’s, well…an observation. Albeit quite an interesting one.

19. It was revealed by Ryan Seacrest (who has been at the center of many “gay or straight or other?” whispers for a long time now) that he used to live with Jensen, which wouldn’t be odd if Jensen had ever mentioned it while talking pretty extensively about his past roommates/living situations.

Like, for example, we HAD known that Jensen and Ty Vaughn lived together for a stretch, and some hats believe (due to the seemingly very intimate nature of their relationship at the time) that Ty may be an ex of Jensen’s.

20. I saw someone point out the fact that Jensen’s oldest daughter’s middle name is Jay (a nickname Jensen has for Jared and actually something they’ve each said they call each other). On its own, this could just look like either a coincidence or a testament to the strong friendship between the Js, but it’s an interesting bit of information alongside everything else.

21. Richard Speight Junior has flubbed pretty famously a few times and nearly given away sensitive information about the Js being together. I’ve posted a few of these examples recently so I’ll hold off on including them here, but-, you know by now, just ask me if you’d like them!

And he’s not the only one who’s said some interesting things!