#NKY

[jaredisnothere]

Laura Jane Grace, Pigeon Pit, and Misunderstood at Madison Theater in Covington, KY on May 26, 2024.

Photos by me, shot for CincyMusic.

Full set here:

Thanks for looking.

[shiftythrifting]

I was wondering if ten had any good thrift places they go to in the Cincinnati/NKY area as suggestions to visit. I also live in ky and after the Florence antique shut down I’ve been having a hard time finding good places :( Saint Vincent i already know of tho but me and my gf have been wanting to go other places

Midwest folks sound off in the notes!

ETA: Admin Ten here!

The only Really Funky one that’s super close is Kelly’s Antique Shop in Florence on Dixie Highway. It’s one of those l’il shops that crammed full of crap and makes you feel like you’re going to die in an avalanche of antiques, but there’s definitely some interesting stuff in there.

If you’re willing to drive, the Ohio Valley Antique Mall up in Fairfield is Choice. It’s massive and has a ton of sellers with a huge variety of stuff. And, as a bonus, it’s close to Jungle Jim’s. 🙂

Unfortunately, those are really the only two Kinda Close places with funky old stuff on the Florence Antique Mall scale that I can think of. :/

[tyshekka]

Short video showcasing ink for my new comic

[traumszenario]

[justherquest]

[hersheher]

"Good. Fucking. Girl" punctuated with deep thrusts idk

[notkidnappedyet]

Chapter 1

Sometimes the Fish Jumps Out of the Bowl by Choice

“So," I smiled at my parents. It was important to look as unassuming as possible, and I had everything going for me. It was Christmastime, and the parents were happy to have their kiddos home from college. I nestled against my brother on the couch. He pushed me off.

My mom looked up from the quilting book she'd been gifted early this morning, "What is it?"

"So," I repeated, "I found a study abroad opportunity.” I said, carefully laying the words down and measuring their response. “It’s in Switzerland... for next year.”

My mom nodded slowly closing her book, “Switzerland, wow.”

“Is that the one with the yodeling? Why Switzerland? What language do they speak there?” Dad seemed intrigued

I smiled, “French! I’ll be able to continue the engineering degree and work on actually becoming fluent in French at the same time.”

"I think there are three official languages there. Maybe four." My brother added, our attending encyclopedia. He leaned over onto me, and I pushed him off, as heavy as ever.

“Ok. That’s nice.” Mom said helpfully. She took a diplomatic sip of water from her glass and placed it back onto the side table. “Are there other black people there?” She added less diplomatically, deepening her voice. 

It was a good question though. I didn’t even know. I shrugged. “I am currently going to school in Iowa so..” 

Mom snorted. 

“When does the program start?” Dad asked. 

“June. For an intensive French course, and then classes start in September. And they’ll throw in a scholarship for students who stay a full year… so I went ahead and accepted that.”

“You what?”

…...........................................................................................................................

When I look in the mirror, I see normal. Not bad, per say. Just normal. 

Ok, so maybe it’s bad in the morning, or puffy. But it could be much worse. 

But nothing irreparable, or even broken in the first place. Most of the time, I would even say I look good. No Rihanna or Lupita. But good, normal. The basic blank slate, as normal as it gets.

My looks have served me well over the years. I never quite grew out of the willowy and awkward stage from adolescence—my legs are too long, and weight doesn’t stick easily, particularly given my European lifestyle (and the fact that I refuse to hit the gym for more than two sessions every half year).

I look like I’m from the 70’s– just long and braless. My posture leaves a lot to be desired, which my mother rightfully reminds me every time I see her. And now, after seeing the issue in a posed photo shoot, I’m working to correct this. I walk everywhere. I grew into my ears, and I look normal. That’s the point.

I know objectively I stick out due to my height—which I’m not that tall, 5’10 isn’t ridiculously tall. In certain countries, ok. It’s enough above average that people comment on it. It’s enough that I have an advantage in concerts. 

I also know I stick out due to my color. I consistently inhabit places where I’m in the minority and the ratio has only become more unfavorable since birth.

Yet still, when I look in the mirror, I see a Plain Jane. Not in the negative sense. But in the sense that this is the face that I see every day. That I’ve seen every day. And this face is normal, human, and mine.

One common aspect of being female or perhaps presenting female seems to be the feeling of being unsafe. Or maybe this is my internalization of the root issue. I feel unsafe often. To the point that the most perfectly nice guy can hold a door open for me, and my first thought is, what do you want? If he’s gone out of his way to hold the door, if he's raced in front of me or waited for an ungodly extra minute, it always occurs to me that I’m capable of getting the door without the help. In fifth grade, I remember the after-school care leader for the ROTC course informed me that a lady must never touch a door and should always be the first to enter. Such a bizarre additional responsibility to put on the backs of men. 

Sometimes I feel stared at. And sometimes I am stared at, called at from cars, followed on streets that are universally considered safe by people who don’t stick out the way I do. By friends who really don’t seem to know that different people have different experiences. And either I’m emitting some strong weird pheromone or my problem is societal.

These stories are a love letter to those I was too nervous to approach. They’re an I-told-you-so to the acquaintances who didn’t believe me. They are a thanks to the friends who know this happens, and an inside joke to those who have witnessed it with their own eyes. 

To the people asking, well, how do I approach a beautiful stranger on the street? My bad experiences have molded how I handle the innocent approaches– they've marred my ability to discern the difference between a great guy and sleazeball. As I’ve grown to realize that I’m skewed towards assuming the worst, I reflect on certain approaches with the thought, 'ok, I wasn’t into him, but that approach was perfectly acceptable'. I don’t have an answer to the perfect approach, but some support with the bad approaches goes a long way towards a lady (me) being open to the good ones. So here is a perspective in which I’ve loaded the good, the bad, and forgettable into a single boat. 

Finally, to my friends, family, and parents in particular, I’m proud to say, I’m not kidnapped yet. 

[doll-for-you-11]

Imagine you find a nice guy, go on a few dates and decide you like him enough to let him take your virginity.

He holds you and kisses you and asks if you're sure a million times and he makes sure to get you ready beforehand.

When he first pushes in he's so gentle, praising you as he moves slowly, stretching you out for the first time.

He thrusts gently, rubbing your clit, kissing your neck, telling you how good you feel for him until you start to get close.

He tells you to cum for him and it feels amazing, filled up with his cock, his praise in your ear, pleasure tearing through you.

But then he doesn't stop. He keeps rubbing your clit, he starts fucking harder and faster.

Your mind is a mess already and you assume he's just trying to get himself over the edge. You try to pry his wrist away but he doesn't budge.

Your back arches as it becomes too much and you cum again. He starts laughing. He starts mocking you and he still doesn't stop.

You're writhing under him as he starts pounding into you, bullying your clit rougher forcing you to cum again and again.

Your eyes are rolled back, body shaking, you cant move to fight him as he keeps going. Hips smashing against yours hard enough now to leave bruises.

His free hand grips your throat, your eyes wide in fear as he smirks down at you. "I said Id be gentle the first time, but this is what? The 5th now? Little whore just cant stop cumming hmm?" He mocks as he pulls all the way out only to slam back in. Squeezing your throat harder at the scream you try to let out.

By the end of the night you cant even count how many times he made you cum. At some point you blacked out, waking up to find yourself tied to the bed, blindfolded and gagged. Something much harder than his cock pumping in and out of you. Something metal.

Over time you'd come to learn that it was a fucking machine. He tells you you need to be filled at all times now that you're broken in.

Turns out by allowing him to take your virginity, you've agreed to become his entirely. And your mind is far too fucked out to come up with any logical reason why that wouldnt make sense. It does make sense. You're his now. His little fuck whore, for him to train to take him as he pleases.

And it really doesn't take long for you to learn to like it, because he's not wrong about what a dirty little slut you are in the slightest.

[alexdesires]

Seeing you cry or being sad just makes me want to pin you down and fuck you hard. Until your eyes roll up, and your tongue comes out, that's when I know I melted your brain, my little doll.

[jaredisnothere]

They Might Be Giants at Madison Theater on night one of two of their two night tour stop in Covington/Cincinnati.

Shot by me for CincyMusic.com.

[prettykitty-1]

This will be the only time I show my boobs uncensored to y'all-! I'm trying to figure out this phone, so I'll show the uncensored ones from the others I did before. <3

What do we think..? 👉👈

[zeloznog]

Tying a pretty boy down so he can't stop me from edging him over and over. Gently teasing his sensitive cunt with the softest touch, holding him right on the edge until he's whining uncontrollably. Gagging him if he starts protesting.

Cute boys only exist for my pleasure, and if I enjoy edging them more than I enjoy letting them cum? Then they get edged until their adorable little minds shatter. And with the adorable little noises they make as their every thought gets ripped out of their head with a soft, teasing touch, why would I ever want to let them cum?

[deunmiu-dessie]

a paralysis demon plays with you at night, this time you're finally awake to see it.

you're not sure how it started. just that one day it did.

you'd wake up with sticky inner thighs and ruined sheets; the familiar pulsing of your clit, begging for attention almost overwhelming, and your muscles ached as if you had run a marathon the day before. tentatively you'd dip your hand into your panties, nimble fingers finding the hood of your engorged clit, eyebrows pulling together at the almost painful feeling it brought; then they'd drift lower, immediately sinking into creamy, wetness that pooled from your entrance and smeared your labia.

this perverse ritual had become your waking nightmare, weeks upon weeks of waking up to ruined panties and an insatiable hunger that couldn't be sated alone. frustration and tears intertwine, as your lithe fingers desperately caress and coax your clit but to no avail. it'd leave you cranky most days and unapproachable the rest.

what the hell was happening? at first, you believed it to be mere wet dreams, lost in the recesses of your mind. but the inability to find release, even with your touch or the mechanical hum of a vibrator, defied all reason. your sanity teetered on the edge, the constant ache and unrelenting wetness between your thighs, the demands of university, and the grueling hours at the fast-paced coffee shop on campus only exacerbate your torment.

breathe; you had told yourself. you just needed a day to sleep, in order to get back into the groove of your usual hectic life. and so, you make the decision to abandon your responsibilities, forsaking work and classes, seeking solace within the confines of your bed.

but that day you saw it.

as the night grew later, you found yourself slipping in and out of consciousness, struggling to keep your eyes open, you clung to the last shreds of wakefulness, determined to finish the movie that had lured you in with its promises of thrills and chills. the laptop, perched on your chest, emitted a faint glow, casting eerie shadows across the room. but despite your best efforts, the battle was futile. with a heavy sigh, you surrendered, closing the laptop and setting it aside.

that should've been it, you should have gone to sleep and woken up the next morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, no longer raging and horny, stressed and tired— just your normal self. yet, as if possessed by an unseen force, your eyes snap open, jolting your mind from the peaceful slumber you had so eagerly embraced, but not your body.

the room was cloaked in darkness, save for the feeble glow of a night light by the door. the time couldn't have been later than two in the morning, leaving you with ample hours until you needed to start getting ready for the day…so why were you up?

grunting you attempt to reach across to your desk and grab your water bottle, your throat suddenly dry and scratchy. but you couldn't move. in fact, your whole body felt numb, as if you'd been submerged in an ice-cold lake. you could feel the hair on your arms standing on end, your heart thumping painfully in your ribcage, desperate to escape from your chest and out the window just above your bed. frantic, your eyes darted around your room, flitting over the darkened corners and further on before subconsciously gazing upwards. it gazed back at you.

it was inky black, as if a void had materialized on your ceiling. barren of any discernible features, a foreboding presence emanated from it, sending chills down your spine. its limbs, neck, and torso twisted unnaturally, giving it a grotesque and elongated appearance. tears welled up in your eyes upon witnessing it, and you attempted to scream, only to find your mouth was sealed as if stitched with needle and thread.

the creature descended from above with erratic movements, settling above your figure and menacingly bringing its face closer to yours. this couldn't be happening, it must be a dream and in a desperate attempt to escape, you tightly shut your eyes and began counting backward from ten, gasping for air with each haggard breath.

however, a phantom graze on your thigh startles your eyes open. the creature was still there, its taloned, inky black hand slowly trailing along your clammy skin. even without a face, you could feel its gaze upon you, sinister and scheming. swallowing thickly, goosebumps follow in the wake of its touch, like tiny flames igniting your skin.

and almost as if accustomed to its advances, your body ignites with a dizzying heat, pussy weeping and your clit throbbing eagerly, readily despite your heart skipping and restarting all in one second with fear. its touch is tantalizing and deliberate, momentarily vanishing underneath your oversized night-shirt before returning to the heat of your thighs, talons pricking your flesh.

the creature's game finally comes to an end as it finds your fattened clit, which eagerly presses against the fabric of your panties, craving any form of touch. its assault is steady but firm and the touch immediately sets you off. your body, needy from weeks of being unable to orgasm, finally reaches its limit. you can feel the knot tightening in your tummy, a sharp, zinging pain in your lower abdomen, and the tensing of your thighs.

however, just as you approach your climax, the creature abruptly stops, shifting its touch to your slick inner thighs, face pressing closer to yours, leering and mocking. without the constant stimulation, your orgasm subsides, leaving you with a throbbing ache in your hips, cunt drooling with your arousal profusely.

your eyebrows cinch together, tears staining your cheeks before you're hit with a realization. the constant feeling of never being satisfied and not being able to cum, was because of this…creature.

its pitch-black visage suddenly splits into a sinister grin, revealing rows of serrated teeth gleaming with viscid, thick saliva. its voice is otherwordly deep, it's guttural, and raspy; fingers returning deftly to your clit to rub circles. "do you remember now?"

[traumszenario]