#excel beyond the bell

[lgcarl]

What Kind of Ripples Are We Making?

I was raised to be kind to others….not just to “be nice” when someone talked to me….but to care….to watch others in order to see when someone needed a kind word, or assistance, or encouragement. My parents showed me by example that we should help other people out whenever we can….and I saw each of them do this over and over and over again throughout my life…. They provided me with such valuable…

[buckets-and-trees]

Obsidian Stain and Sin

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for quite a while. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond anything you bargained for.

Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending

Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.

A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!

You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.

A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.

“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.

“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”

You nod. “First tattoo ever.”

“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”

He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.

“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”

“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.

“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”

You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.

“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.

Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.

You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.

The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.

This is happening.

You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.

The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.

As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.

The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.

But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.

Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.

"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.

You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”

“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.

“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.

You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.

“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”

Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?

He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.

You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.

"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.

You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.

He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."

You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.

"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."

You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.

"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.

The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.

Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."

You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"

You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.

"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"

You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.

“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.

He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.

"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.

His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.

"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"A little," you admit.

"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.

Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.

"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."

You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.

"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.

Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"

You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.

Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."

The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.

The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"

You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."

“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”

You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.

“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.

He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.

As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.

"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"

You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."

Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."

"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."

You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"

His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.

"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"

Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."

He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”

The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.

Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."

The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.

“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.

Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.

The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”

He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.

"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."

You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.

"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"

Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"

You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.

"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.

Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."

With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.

“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."

You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.

Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.

After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.

"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."

You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.

"It's beautiful," you breathe.

Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.

"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.

As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.

"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."

Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.

"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.

"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.

Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."

As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.

"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."

You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."

You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.

As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."

Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."

Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.

You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.

You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.

After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.

It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.

The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.

Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.

But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.

Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.

No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.

“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.

You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.

“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”

You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.

"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.

Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.

Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"

You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.

“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.

You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your above, over, and below the crook of your elbow.

“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”

Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.

He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”

“It… isn’t?”

“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"

You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."

Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”

Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.

"What do you think?" he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.

"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.

Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."

Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.

"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.

“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.

Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."

His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.

"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.

Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.

"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"

You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.

"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."

As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.

"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."

The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."

Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.

"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.

You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."

Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."

His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.

"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"

The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.

Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"

You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.

A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”

Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.

“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.

"I don't know what you mean.”

Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."

His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.

"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.

"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.

"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.

"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.

"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.

Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."

His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.

"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"

You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.

"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."

One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.

"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.

"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"

You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.

Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."

Your breath hitches. “No.”

“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”

You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"

Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."

You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.

"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.

Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”

Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"

"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."

His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.

“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.

You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”

Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.

His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.

"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."

You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.

Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, andI've got you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.

Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.

"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.

Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"

Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.

Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.

Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”

Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.

Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.

Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.

“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.

Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.

“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.

Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.

Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.

Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.

Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.

Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.

Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.

“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”

You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.

“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.

Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.

Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.

“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.

While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.

When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

But it doesn’t register.

He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.

His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.

“Ari,” you groan.

“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”

You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.

“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.

You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.

“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”

He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.

“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.

Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”

“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”

“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.

And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.

But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.

And then they both began to move.

In and out and in and out and inandout.

And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.

[burins]

Other Appalachias: A Booklist

As requested, the anti-Hillbilly Elegy booklist, plus annotations! When possible I tried to include books that were by Appalachians and got at lesser-known aspects of Appalachian life and identity, especially modern Appalachian life. When creating the original list I was also limited by books that were in the library network I work at, which is a) a public library and b) not actually located in Appalachia. Y’all get some bonus titles that weren’t in my library - hopefully they’ll be in yours.

A note: I have not read every single book on this list! This is the nature of creating booklists as a librarian. I trust the sources I used to find them, but if there’s something on here that you’re like “oh I read this and it sucks actually,” let me know. And if there’s a particular aspect you’d like more books on, also let me know!

General

Appalachian Reckoning: A Region Responds to Hillbilly Elegy (Anthony Harkins and Meredith McCarroll, eds)

What You Are Getting Wrong About Appalachia by Elizabeth Catte

If you read any two books on this list (especially if you aren’t from Appalachia!) make it these two. The first one is a collection of essays and photographs, the second by a single author, but both are fantastic for the basics of “hey was your entire idea of a huge stretch of the US defined by Deliverance and some NYT op-eds? perhaps it should not be” 

Appalachian Fall: Dispatches from Coal Country on What's Ailing America by Jeff Young

Leans a little more “plight of the white working class” than I absolutely love, but this talks a lot about contemporary workers’ rights and local activism in Appalachia and is a good counter to Vance’s narrative of “everybody sits on their ass all the time.”

Belonging: A Culture of Place by bell hooks

Hey did you know bell hooks was from Kentucky? bell hooks was from Kentucky! As always her writing is deeply insightful about who is allowed to claim a place and what it means to have roots. 

Rx Appalachia: Stories of Treatment and Survival in Rural Kentucky by Lesly-Marie Buer 

The opioid crisis has defined the region (much as alcoholism came to during Prohibition); unlike a lot of writing on the topic, this lets people tell their own stories. 

Race and Sexuality

Another Appalachia: Coming Up Queer and Indian in a Mountain Place by Neema Avashia

Excellent counter to the narrative of Appalachia as unrelentingly white, and also painfully good writing on what happens when the folks you grew up counting on let you down. 

Loving Mountains, Loving Men: Memoirs of a Gay Appalachian by Jeff Mann

This 2005 memoir got a re-release in 2023, and thank god because it makes me cry. Really beautiful writing on what it means to come back to a place and carve out a space for yourself.

Y'all Means All: The Emerging Voices Queering Appalachia (Z. Zane McNeill, ed.) 

Another essay collection! There will be more; I like an essay collection for getting a sense of a subject beyond a single voice. Touches on everything from disability to race to Mothman. 

Deviant Hollers: Queering Appalachian Ecologies for a Sustainable Future, Zane McNeill and Rebecca Scott, eds. 

This wide-ranging collection of essays wasn’t on the original list because it’s pretty hard to come by (academic queer theory is not a bastion of your average public library collection.) Just based on the table of contents I am going to try and get my hands on a copy ASAP. 

Gone Home: Race and Roots through Appalachia by Karida L. Brown

Focuses specifically on Harlan County, Kentucky, drawing on a ton of oral history interviews of Black residents to talk about the Great Migration, Blackness in Appalachia, and identity formation in the region and beyond.

Beginning Again: Stories of Movement and Migration in Appalachia, Katrina M. Powell, ed. 

This just came out in June! In a place so often defined by how many generations of your family have lived there, it’s worth considering who gets removed from that story.  

Their Determination to Remain: A Cherokee Community's Resistance to the Trail of Tears in North Carolina by Lance Greene

The history of Appalachia is pretty obviously incomplete without talking about the policies of Indian Removal. Greene tackles a tangled story of assimilation and cultural survival. 

Even As We Breathe by Annette Saunooke Clapsaddle

The only fiction book on this list, but the main goal of the list was to let Appalachia speak for itself. Clapsaddle is a member of the Eastern band of Cherokee; the novel, set in western NC during the 1940s, talks about (in)justice, assimilation, and belonging. 

History, Labor, and Environment

You can’t talk about the history of Appalachia without talking about coal, and you can’t talk about coal without talking about labor, and you also can’t talk about coal without talking about the environment. 

Ramp Hollow: The Ordeal of Appalachia by Steven Stoll 

An economic/environmental overview of Appalachia covering the shift from homesteading to resource extraction. To understand what’s happening economically in 2024 you need to understand what happened economically in 1750-1850, and this gives a general and fairly accessible throughline. 

The Battle of Blair Mountain: The Story of America's Largest Labor Uprising by Robert Shogan

An older book on the most famous event of the West Virginia Mine Wars, but is a very readable narrative that also touches on Blair Mountain’s wider context.  

Written in Blood: Courage and Corruption in the Appalachian War of Extraction, Wess Harris, ed. 

A much more in-depth look at specific aspects of the Mine Wars and labor history, rather than a general overview, but worth reading for its coverage of more recent events (it didn’t end with Blair!)

To Live Here, You Have to Fight: How Women Led Appalachian Movements for Social Justice by Jessica Wilkerson

Focusing on the 60s-70s and LBJ’s War on Poverty, a good discussion of historical grassroots organizing.

Digging Our Own Graves: Coal Miners & the Struggle Over Black Lung Disease by Barbara Allen Smith

Seminal text! First published in 1987, with an updated edition released in 2020. 

Soul Full of Coal Dust: A Fight for Breath and Justice in Appalachia by Chris Hamby

After being mad about black lung in the 80s, you can also be mad about black lung today, because it didn’t go anywhere. 

Desperate: An Epic Battle for Clean Water and Justice in Appalachia by Kris Maher

Very “legal thriller focused on one guy,” but extremely readable. A great book to get your liberal mom fired up.  

Mountains Piled upon Mountains: Appalachian Nature Writing in the Anthropocene, Jessica Cory, ed.

This list has been almost entirely nonfiction, so here is some lovely prose about what folks love about the region with both literary nonfiction, fiction, and poetry. It’s got a wide geographic focus to boot. 

Food and Culture

Appalachia on the Table: Representing Mountain Food and People by Erica Adams Locklear

Great deconstruction of how we talk about mountain food and culture (scandal! Sometimes great-grandmas used Bisquick.) Will make you hungry and also question what authenticity means and where your family recipes actually come from. 

Making Our Future: Visionary Folklore and Everyday Culture in Appalachia by Emily Hilliard

West Virginia state folklorist Emily Hilliard talks about pro wrestling, Fallout 76, songwriting, and coal camps. Appalachia in the 21st century. 

(Finally, a shoutout to the various bookstores whose lists I used as jumping-off points, especially Appalachian Mountain Books, City Lights Bookstore, Firestorm Books, and the Museum of the Cherokee People.)

[connorsui]

▪︎▪︎ 𝓐 𝓓𝓪𝓲𝓵𝔂 𝓓𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨𝓸𝓾 ▪︎▪︎

Nanami Kento, known for his structured life and efficient routines, finds himself drawn to a quaint bakery he never used to frequent.

Nanami x baker! Reader

Contains: Love at First Sight, Fluff, Shy Nanami (nanami cute tho) , Awkward Confessions (he tryin let him be) Slow Burn, a taste of readers cake (not literally tho.....he wishes)

Warnings: nah suffer the taste of coffee down ur throat

A/N: I'll admit I wrote this at 5 a.m......it's more of an imagine than anything..

Nanami Kento wasn’t accustomed to deviating from his meticulously structured life. Every day unfolded with the same precision: he awoke at the same time, enjoyed the same brand of coffee, and fastened his tie with practiced efficiency. This routine wasn’t born out of necessity but from a preference for order and predictability.

However, his carefully crafted schedule was upended when he started walking down a narrow side street he’d never noticed before. The street housed a quaint bakery that had caught his attention a week ago.

The first time he entered the bakery, it was pouring rain. Not the gentle kind, but a relentless downpour that drenched him in seconds. Seeking refuge, he was welcomed by the warmth of the bakery and the enticing aroma of fresh bread. But it wasn’t just the atmosphere or the bread that compelled him to return. It was you.

You, with flour dusting your apron and a smile that could brighten the dreariest of days. You greeted him as if he were a regular, despite it being his first visit. You handed him a croissant and coffee with a care that made his heart skip a beat.

Becoming a regular wasn’t part of his plan, and neither was experiencing love at first sight.

The routine quickly established itself. After that, first encounter together. Some quick name exchanges and smiles of each morning at 7:30 a.m., Nanami would enter the bakery, greeted by the comforting aroma of baking bread. You’d be there, ready with a warm smile.

“mornin'!” you’d say cheerfully.

“Good morning,” he’d reply, receiving his usual order: one croissant and one black coffee, just as he liked it.

It was a simple exchange, but the warmth of your greeting became a highlight of his day. The predictability was comforting, and he convinced himself that was enough.

On the fourth day, Nanami noticed something different. A bit of flour had settled on your nose. It was a small detail, but it stood out to him. He found himself wondering how it had ended up there and if you were even aware of it.

He wanted to tell you, but the words caught in his throat. He was merely a customer, a stranger who visited daily. He wasn’t sure if he had the right to comment, so he accepted his croissant and coffee silently and left. The image of you with flour on your nose lingered in his mind all day.

By the seventh day, Nanami realized he wanted more than just the brief pleasantries exchanged each morning. He wanted to engage with you beyond the usual routine.

When he walked in that morning, you were behind the counter, arranging pastries with careful precision. The bell above the door chimed as he entered, and you looked up with your usual bright smile.

“Good morning!” you greeted him.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice tinged with nervousness. “Do you have any recommendations today?”

You looked pleasantly surprised. “Actually, yes! I’ve been working on a new recipe—a strawberry danish. It’s not on the menu yet, but if you’d like, I can give you a sneak preview.”

The prospect of trying something you’d personally crafted was too tempting to resist. “I’d love that,” he replied, trying to maintain composure.

You handed him the danish with a look of anticipation. “I hope you like it. It’s a bit different, but I think it turned out well.”

As he took the pastry, your fingers brushed against his briefly. The touch was fleeting but electrifying, lingering long after he left the bakery.

The danish was excellent, but what stood out was the way your eyes lit up when he complimented it the following day.

Nanami found himself concocting reasons to visit the bakery more frequently. He convinced himself it was for the variety of pastries, but he knew better. The real attraction was the moments shared with you—the easy conversations, the warmth of your presence.

One morning, as he prepared to leave, you called out to him.

He turned to see you hurrying over with a small brown paper bag. “I’ve got a special treat for you today.”

“Oh?” Nanami said, a touch of curiosity in his voice. He accepted the bag from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just a little something to brighten your day,” you said with a playful grin. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will,” he replied, trying to steady his suddenly quickened heartbeat. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Anytime!” you said with a smile that made his day feel a little bit better. “Enjoy!”

The pastry, as always, was perfect. But it wasn’t just the food that captivated him; it was the connection he found in those brief moments with you.

On the tenth day, Nanami arrived early and saw the bakery’s closed sign. He felt an unexpected pang of disappointment. The thought of missing even one day felt unsettling.

As he was about to leave, he heard your voice.

“Oh! You’re here early!”

You approached, apron tied around your waist, a smile on your lips.

“I didn’t want to miss you,” he said, the words escaping before he could stop them.

You laughed, a sound that made his heart flutter. “You’d have to get up pretty early to miss me! I’ll be open soon. You can come in and wait if you’d like.”

He followed you inside, feeling unusually at ease in the quiet bakery. You hummed softly as you prepared for the day, and he watched, captivated by the grace of your movements.

“So,” you broke the silence, “how do you like the new pastries? Be honest!”

“They’re wonderful,” he replied. “You’re very talented.”

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. “Thank you. I’m glad you think so.”

A moment of silence followed, one filled with unspoken thoughts. Nanami wanted to say more but found himself content just being in your presence.

By the twelfth day, Nanami knew he couldn’t continue his routine without expressing his feelings. His visits had become more than a habit; they were a necessity. He needed you to know how much you meant to him.

That morning, you greeted him as usual, handing over a new pastry you’d been experimenting with. “I hope you’re ready for something a little different today.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking the pastry. Instead of leaving, he lingered by the counter, his heart racing. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh?” You looked up, curiosity evident in your eyes.

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. “Would you like to have coffee with me sometime? Outside of here.”

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, he feared he’d made a mistake. But then your expression softened, and you smiled. “I’d love to. How about tomorrow? After your usual visit?”

A wave of relief washed over him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

I consider this an imagine now

[wonder-innie]

oblivious

bf!jeongin x fem!reader x han and hyunjin. smut (mdni)

— ; One day, Jeongin got tired of Hyunjin and Han teasing him, so he invited them to hide (and jerk off) in the closet while he fucked you, the thing is he didn’t tell you.

word count: 2.2k

t.w: oral (m. receiving), daddy kink, dirty talking, spanking, masturbation (male), voyounerism, clit slapping, creampie, boob play, nipple play, multiple orgasm.

a.n: english is not my first language. check my masterlist

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Jeongin and you have been dating for a few years, you loved each other and, thankfully, the sex was beyond good, it was excellent. He knew the right places to touch and so did you. You and him shared most of your kinks.

However, Jeongin wanted to take it to the next level. He always fucked hard in the dorms so every member could hear your moans, he just loved making everyone know how good he made you feel and that you were only his. Han and Hyujin always found a way to tease him, and one time they started calling “daddy” with a mocking tone since you always screamed that during sex.

One thing led to another, and Jeongin ended up inviting them to see how good he fucked you, so they would stop bothering him. They were a bit surprised at first and laughed awkwardly thinking it was some kind of a joke, but when they saw that Jeongin was serious, they accepted his offer because they’ve always thought you were hot as fuck.

The thing was, Jeongin didn’t tell you and wasn’t planning to do it. Instead, he told the guys to hide in his closet the whole time. The wardrobe was next to the bed and had bars that allowed almost perfect visibility.

“You sure about this?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yeah, now hurry up and get in. She’ll be here in any second” as soon as Jeongin finished the sentence, you rang the bell.

Ashe walked toward the door, he stopped for a few seconds to look at himself in the mirror and fix his hair a bit. When he opened the door, he saw your outfit. You were wearing a short skirt and a tank top, you didn’t have much time to think of a good outfit.

You kissed him and hug him before entering. You and him have a chit chat about your day and other stuff in the living room for a few minutes. He told you the place was empty because all the members went to a bar.

You were sitting in the couch next to him taking about a cat you found on the park, when he cut you off with a passionate kiss. It caught you off guard yet you didn’t complain at all. The kiss was lasting longer than you expected. He separated slightly from you.

“Baby… let’s go to my room” he said before kissing you once again.

A few seconds later, Jeongin closed the door of his bedroom behind you and started kissing you again. The guys were getting tired of waiting, luckily you came in just in time, causing the guys to get closer to the wardrobe’s doors.

Jeongin’s cock was already hard and was ready to fuck you, but he wanted to show the boys all your abilities. He basically manhandle you to his bed, he was sitting in a corner of the bed as you were kissing him while sitting in his lap. Between kisses, he managed to take off your tank top and bra, leaving your tits at full display. The guys had a side view of the scene, still they were able to appreciate your boobs.

Jeongin broke the kiss only to redirect his mouth to your boobs. He had one hand massaging roughly your right tit and the other in your ass. Meanwhile, he had your left nipple in his mouth, sucking it hard. The man just loved your tits and how sensitive they were. You were a moaning mess, his mouth was making you feel so good. But when ge started pinching your nipples, your whining became even louder.

You felt his hard cock below you, and, almost by instinct, you started grinding your pussy against his dick. The friction made him suck your nipple rougher than before. His tongue was tracing circles around it.

“So fucking soft” he whispered as he left marks all over your chest. “Perfect for daddy”.

Hyunjin and Han had their cocks out and were stroking them slowly, they were turned on but not enough. The guys were unimpressed, so far the only things they saw were some kissing and boob play, not big deal.

“On your knees” Jeongin ordered and you obeyed without thinking it twice. You started unbuckling his jeans as he was taking off his shirt. You were so desperate to have his cock in your mouth that you did everything clumsily yet fast. Once you took off his boxers, his erected cock was free and hit his abdomen. You wanted to put it in, but you knew you had to wait for his instructions. “Open” you did as he said and sticked out your tongue.

Jeongin hit your tongue a few times with his tip, enjoying how crazy you were going over his dick, before sliding it inside your mouth. At first he let you have your fun, sucking it slowly, giving kitten kisses to tip, playing with balls and more. You tongue was making circles around his cock while we was inside.

“Fuck…” he moaned as he leaned his elbows on the bed to be able to recline slightly backward and thus have a better view. “Just like that” His words worked as motivation for you to keep going. “Look at daddy” you raised your gaze and found him looking straight at you with devouring eyes. He passed his tongue through his lips before biting them, and that simple gesture made your mind go crazy.

You sneaked your fingers through your underwear and started touching yourself so your pussy could be ready for his dick as soon as he was done with your mouth.

No much time passed before Jeongin put your hair in a ponytail, you knew exactly what that meant. He started fucking your face slowly at first, but it didn’t take long for him to pick up a faster pace, with quick and hard thrust that made his dick slide all the way down to your throat. He loved how good you were at deepthroating.

Hyunjin stokes were way faster than before and so did Han’s. The older one felt how drops of sweat traveled through his face. Han was also sweaty, no at as much as his friend though. That’s the kind of show they were expecting to see, you being treated like the whore you are.

“Yeah, take daddy’s cock. Know your fucking place, you are just my personal hole” your were getting more wet with every word that came out of his mouth. The fullness of your throat and his roughness made your eyes watery, with a tear escaping from them occasionally.

Apparently that was what Jeongin needed to get to the climax; his breathing became heavier and his thrusts more erratic. With his cock in the deepest of your throat and your nose in contact with his pelvis, he let go. You felt how his hot cum was going inside you, filling your abused throat. A few seconds later he pulled out. He always compensated you if you swallowed his cum until the last drop, so you did it. His face came closer to yours.

“Show daddy your mouth” you opened your mouth, it was empty as he wished. A little smirk formed in his face. It was such an ego booster watching how obedient you were and drank all of his cum.

“That was… fast” Hyunjin thought. He and Han had been jerking off to a not so fast pace and now they stopped stroking their cocks. They thought they weren’t going to finish tonight since Jeongin had already cum, until they notice he was still hard.

“Ride me, baby” he said before laying down with the soles of his feet pointing towards the closet. “I wanna see your ass bouncing”

You loved being his little obedient slut so you did as he said after taking off your skirt and underwear. You placed your feet at the sides of his thighs and gave him a perfect view of your ass, preparing for the reverse cowgirl position.

You approached your entrance to Jeongin’s cock and started to putting in slowly, trying to get used to the size. With every inch you felt how he stretched your insides, making you moan more and more. He was getting impatient so he spanked you with both hands before grabbing your ass and forced you to go all the way down.

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a loud moan as his tip reached your g-spot. Without wasting more time you started bouncing up and down with a fast pace, knowing he wouldn’t tolerate a slow one.

The boys in the closet were having the time of his life watching you ride Jeongin’s cock. They had a front view of your tits and how they bounced with every thrust. Hyunjin had one hand playing with his balls and the other busy with his tip. Meanwhile, Han was stroking his cock as he played with his sensitive left nipple.

They were getting more turned on every passing second. Their hands began to get sticky due to the precum leaking from their tips. Hyunjin was now using two hands to jerk off his big cock. On the other hand, Han was now pinching his nipple making him whine desperately. He had to bite his lower lip to remain silence.

“Shit… you got so wet just from giving me head” Jeongin said between moans.

You wanted to answer him but your mind was foggy, the only think you could think about was his cock and how well it was making you feel.

“Aww, did daddy’s cock make you dumb?” he teased before spanking you. “Look at you, such a pathetic hole”

The time passed and you kept riding him unit Jeongin, with a simple movement, managed to make your body lean back so that his lips were beneath your neck. Your eyes and tits were pointing at the selling. This took you by surprise, but you knew it was a matter of time until he decided to take control.

Jeongin used one hand to grab your right boob and squeezed it hard and he moved his other hand to your clit. He started tracing circles with his fingers in your clit and he fucked you with no mercy. Your moans got so lewd and loud that it was almost embarrassing.

He laughed at how pathetic you were. “This pussy is so fucking tight” he whispered in your ear before slapping your clit.

Hyunjin and Han now had a perfect view of you opened and abused pussy. They couldn’t take your eyes off you, they were so close. Their bodies were full of sweat and precum. Hyunjin decided to copy his friend and started playing with his nipple.

Jeongin thrust were fast and his dick was touching the right spot, he kept rubbing your clit. You felt the orgasm building in your stomach, wanting to be set free.

“Innie… I-I’m gonna…” you whined, the lust didn’t let you finish you sentence.

He bite your neck and placed his feet in the bed, his soles touching the sheet, so he can gain more stability to fuck you even faster and deeper. “Cum for daddy, don’t be shy”

Those words were all you needed to finally let go, you cum all over his dick and your moans sounded almost like screams. The knot inside you was finally untied.

You weren’t the only one, when the boys watched you cum they knew they were next. Their stokes became more erratic and messy and so did their breathing. A few seconds later they came all over their abs at the same time.

The only one left was Jeongin, however he wasn’t planning in cumming soon. After you finished, he took his cock out of you and was able to manhandle you to the closet door. Your cheek was hitting the door as you were in a standing doggy position. They boys couldn’t believe what was happening, they were so close to you, your tits and pussy were only a few centimeters away.

Jeongin inserted himself inside your cunt once again. He loved overstimulating you, but he didn’t know he was about to overstimulate his friends. Han and Hyunjin were hard again, so they began jerking off again, this time their dicks were more sensitive (and so was your pussy).

His thrusts became wild and intense; he spanked you every now and then. He loved watching how you reacted to each thrust and spank. He passed his hand through his tongue and, once again, he played with your clit.

“Who is your daddy? Hm. Tell me who owns you. Tell me who owns this pussy” Jeongin ordered between heavy breaths and spanks.

“Y-You! Jeongin is my daddy!”

A few minutes passed, in which he never gave your pussy a rest. His cock started twitching, he was close, your cunt just felt so good.

“Gonna fill this pussy… You gonna take my babies? Hm?”

“Yes! Please… cum inside… I need it” you begged.

That was it, the four of you had finally cum. Jeongin and you came at the same time, he did it inside you. Your pussy was full of his cum, just like you wished. The boys came for the second time as well, their torso was full of sweat and cum. Their breathing was loud, but since Jeongin’s and yours were loud too, you couldn’t hear theirs.

Jeongin felt like a fucking god, he just showed his friend how good he fucks you and how hot you were. The boys had to eat their own words.

You made three guys cum today and you were completely oblivious.

[utilitycaster]

The build of Ria'Doin is honestly just...such an elegant answer to so many things. Why has no one found this portal? Well, it's deep underwater in a lake that's so cold most commoners would drown or die of hypothermia just trying to find it, and as of some point in not too distant past an eldritch creature that lures people to their deaths quietly emptied out the town. It's in rural Issylra, already a place that tends to get overlooked by most larger powers...though honestly this raises the question of whether one of the motivators behind Vasselheim attempting to take over Hearthdell is if there were some documents in the vault that hinted towards a back door but were insufficiently specific regarding the location beyond "rural Issylra" and so they simply stabbed about for leyline nexuses. Another possibility is that the creature broke through in some way and created this rift, a la Vokodo, so it's a recent development, which would also explain why a town was able to grow and sustain itself and then very suddenly become abandoned.

It's also just an excellent vibe; it reads like a setting guide's plot hooks. It's a tight little D&D mystery, a fun change of pace from the scouting in a hostile environment, and it feels like the sort of classic tier 1-2 D&D setups that Bells Hells largely didn't have due to the early campaign circumstances.

[nanowrimo]

When Is a Small Press a Good Fit?

When it comes to publishing, many writers will think about big publishers first. However, there are a lot of different publishing options out there to explore. NaNo participant and author, Clara Ward, talks about their experience publishing with a small press and gives you questions to consider while you think through your publishing options!

NaNoWriMo inspired me to write. Signing with a small press gave me the support I needed to publish a book I love. 

I’d published books before—starting with NaNoWriMo sponsor deals in the early days of online publishing—but I never had the right skill set to promote those books. As a result, they never truly found their audience. 

In November of 2020, I poured my heart into a genre-blurring near-future tale of sailing across the Pacific and building a neurodiverse, queer, and possibly magical chosen family. In 2021, I titled it Be the Sea and asked myself: What am I going to do with that?

1. Are you looking for fame or family?

Small presses are as varied as the people who form them. If you read widely, you may already have a treasured book on your shelf from your publisher-to-be. Try asking NaNoWriMo friends who share your interests if they’ve discovered any surprising or emerging sources for great reads. (At the very least, you may find books you’ll love in unexpected places!)

Admittedly, a small press doesn’t have a fortune to spend on paving your path to fame. But I have never felt as seen as when my soon-to-be publisher, E.D.E. Bell at Atthis Arts, wrote back, “I’m really in love with what you are doing and would like to talk about it.” 

2. Do you have the bandwidth for working with others?

Even with the most supportive small press, you may have to push outside your comfort zone. I know authors who love the absolute control and freedom of self-publishing. For a time, I felt very comfortable just posting my NaNoWriMo fanfiction novels on Archive of Our Own. At most, I had one or two beta readers to offer feedback on those works. Whereas E.D.E. told me in one of our earliest conversations that in addition to our three rounds of editing we’d need “a good number of betas” to cover the range of topics we were working on together.

I was delighted! I knew what I’d written was ambitious, and I welcomed all the feedback I could get. But it turns out, each extra person in a process adds new challenges and delays. I had to stretch my empathy as well as my publishing timeline because, to quote E.D.E. again: “It’s a lot of emotion (as well as brain cycles) to go through...” Outside perspectives will only improve your writing if you are willing to work with them, to truly listen and learn.

3. Can you handle the two-way commitment?

No form of publishing is easy. The myth that authors write while others handle business and promotion is not true at the top, and certainly not with small presses. In my experience, working with Atthis Arts was like joining a team or chosen family. Beyond certain paid tasks, such as editing and sensitivity reading, I discovered a community of authors who freely offered coaching before my first public reading, social media boosting, tips for author webpages, and an extra pair of eyes on letters requesting bookshop readings or other events. While not all small presses work the same way, this supportive culture proved to be an excellent fit for me. Naturally, I wanted to give back whenever possible.

Small presses can only succeed with community. This month, as I promote the launch of Be the Sea at bookshops in Mountain View, Davis, and Sacramento, I will be introducing many Californians to my Michigan-based small publisher, Atthis Arts. When I stand up as a panelist at Norwescon in Washington state or at various science, library, or Pride events later in the year, I’ll be promoting more than Be the Sea by Clara Ward. I’ll give back by sharing my appreciation for small presses, the supportive and inclusive practices they can normalize, and the opportunities they open up for future writers and readers. 

Clara Ward lives in Silicon Valley on the border between reality and speculative fiction. Their latest novel, Be the Sea, features a near-future ocean voyage, chosen family, and sea creature perspectives, while delving into our oceans, our selves, and how all futures intertwine. Their short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons, Decoded Pride, Small Wonders, and as a postcard from Thinking Ink Press. When not using words to teach or tell stories, Clara uses wood, fiber, and glass to make practical or completely impractical objects. More of their words along with crafted creations can be found at: https://clarawardauthor.wordpress.com

Photo by Hümâ H. Yardım on Unsplash

[monsterbachelors]

The Three Don'ts of Sabertooth Brewing

[contains semi-public sex + fem!reader]

SUMMARY: You visit Yanu at work on a slow night. One thing leads to another and just when things get exciting, something both unpleasant and unexpected forces you to take a rain check on back-alley romps.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

A smile brightens your face when you see the Sabertooth Brewing sign from across the street. The venue doesn’t look like an appropriate place for a young lady without nefarious motives but at the same time, the entirety of the Copper Valley district doesn’t appear so. Nonetheless, you couldn’t think of a safer place to be. Whatever turf wars the former copper miners lead, they all agreed to omit Yanu and his business. It reached the point where some locals called the bar “the embassy” as it’s the only neutral ground in the neighbourhood.

The rough-looking miners curtly nod at you as you walk past them. A cloud of smoke and soot surrounds the two men. They always stand near the entrance of the locale but never go inside. Smoking one cigarette after another, their job must be to ensure that Yanu stays largely unbothered by the conflicts of Copper Valley. So far, they’ve been excellent at doing their duties.

You giggle quietly as you read the sign hanging on the front door:

Don’t: - fight - spill drinks - ask Q’rill to make a mojito

A bell chimes when you push the door open. Low, yellow lights make the interior look cosy. Conversations held by the patrons sitting in booths and around small tables are drowned out by a trio playing a familiar swing tune. The smell of cigarette smoke fills your lungs and sticks to your clothes. Two waiters weave between tables and clients, faux joy plastered to their faces. One of them notices you - she gives you a quick wave and nods towards the long bar counter.

Although he is surrounded by bottles filled with colourful drinks, it’s impossible to overlook Yanu. Maybe it’s a general rule or perhaps it’s just your fatal affliction. He’s wearing a shirt, a vest and a pair of tailored pants - exactly what one would expect a bartender to wear. Seemingly lost in thought, he’s just wiping some glasses but still, there is something unspeakably captivating about him. An aura that paints him as extraordinary and not just the way he is.

Yanu must notice you approaching out of the corner of his eye. When his gaze meets yours, his expression immediately changes. The deep, pink scar across his blind right eye gives the rakshasa a certain edge but even that isn’t enough to hide the pure adoration painted all over his face. His blue iris stares at you lovingly until a shadow of mischief dances across Yanu’s features.

“My, my, I don’t recall having an appointment with a princess,” he speaks with pretend surprise.

“Princesses don’t make appointments,” you answer casually. Sitting on the high bar stool, you’re still significantly shorter than the rakshasa behind the counter. “They just show up when they want to.”

He chuckles in a low voice. “Gods bless them for that.”

Yanu leans on his forearms on the counter and hangs his head to let you kiss his cheek. Round, furry ears adorned with silver jewellery flutter as they brush against your hair. It tickles when his whiskers touch your face. 

Feeling his breath against your skin, you don’t have to speak loudly. “I hope I’m not interrupting you.”

“You,” he points an accusatory finger at you, “interrupt my every coherent thought but I’ve learnt to enjoy that.”

Suddenly, your face gets hot. “I’m being serious, Yanu,” you say through flustered giggles. Even after all this time, it’s beyond easy for him to make you giddy.

“Likewise.” He winks at you before standing up straight. “So how can I spoil a princess’s palate?”

“Hm… I feel like elderberry.”

“Drunk all the time, feeling fine on elderberry wine*,” he sings while looking around for ingredients. The idea for a cocktail comes to him in an instant as befits a true connoisseur.

Yanu appears to be in a trance as he pours and mixes lemonade, vodka, St-Germain and some thyme. Every action is quick and decisive but never careless. Similarly, you are in a sort of trance, too - watching his white shirt and elegant black vest strain around the muscles of his arms. One day the seams of the garments might just let go but say, would it really be so bad?

The rakshasa pours elderflower syrup into the shaker. With a swift flick of his wrist, the shaker with your cocktail-to-be flips in the air. The metal cup makes a full circle only to be caught again by his hand, its content poured into a square drinking glass.

He looks at you in anticipation. Satisfaction is written all over his face. “Pretty nice, right?”

But you’re in a bantering mood tonight. Not letting him see how in awe you truly are, you only raise your eyebrows. “You have huge arms. It would be more impressive if you dropped that.”

Yanu sighs dramatically. He shakes his head and crosses his arms across his chest. If it wasn’t for the glimmer of amusement in his good eye, you’d think he’s genuinely upset. “And here I thought that a lowlife like me could impress a princess.”

“Well…” you ponder for a moment, “there are a few things you could do with your hands that would be impressive.”

Something changes about his demeanour. The amusement stayed but now it is joined by some darkness that leaves an aftertaste of chocolates with brandy - warming and rejuvenatingly bittersweet.

“Really?” he asks in a low voice. His blue eye is watching you intensely, almost looking through you. “Pray tell, what do you have in mind?”

Perhaps there’s some perversion to it but you enjoy leaving his question unanswered for a while. Slowly, you sip on the drink, silently enjoying the perfectly balanced flavours. Not too sweet, not too sour. A true testimony of how well Yanu knows you. That passionate gaze of his never once leaves you, catching even the smallest of movements. A predator or a lover? - how similar these two can be.

“A princess shouldn’t be saying such things out loud,” you finally say.

Yanu leans on his arms against the bar counter. With each exhale, his warm breath gently brushes against your face. There’s some intensity hidden under his casual demeanour as though if you were to play your cards right, he might just cause scandalous immodesty in full view of the clients.

“Will she share them away from prying ears?” More than a question, it’s a suggestion. One that you have neither the will nor the want to reject.

Feigning innocence, you shrug your shoulders. “Perhaps.”

The rakshasa only chuckles. He stands up straight and calls out to someone:

“Hey, Q’rill! Watch the bar for me for a bit, eh?”

The drow, equally well-dressed as Yanu, doesn’t even look your way. Still cutting a lemon into pieces, he answers in a heavy accent, “Got you, boss.”

Not waiting for a sign or a word of encouragement, you get off the stool and walk towards the closer end of the counter. Ever the gentleman, Yanu lifts the wooden part, letting you go behind the bar. But that’s not where the two of you are headed - you follow him through the back of the brewery, only to leave through the staff door.

The alley is dark and narrow. Something rattles in the skip filled with trash, probably a rat or two. In the distance, far away from where you’re standing, cars drive by every now and again. Muffled swing music played by the trio inside the bar sounds like an ambience of a faraway world.

Yanu pushes you against the wall. He’s towering over you - if he so wished, he could effortlessly throw you over his shoulder and carry off.  The bricks are cold against your back but soon you find them refreshing when compared to the warmth beaming from the rakshasa. His rough tongue slowly licks the side of your neck. It’s strange, tickling and absolutely delightful. 

One of his hands lifts your leg, resting your knee against his hips. Lustful greediness has him grabbing and groping whatever part of your thigh and ass.

Just when a pleased sigh leaves your lips, Yanu stops licking your neck and nuzzles it instead.

“So how can I impress my princess?” he purrs into your ear. 

He’s not waiting for an answer - not really. Not when you feel his clothed erection grinding against your groin. You can almost feel your arousal dripping down your legs.

Yanu’s other hand slides into your underwear. His fingers, thick and furry, sensually rub your clit in circles. Breath hitches in your throat. “Would this impress her?” he asks.

“Maybe,” you manage to say between whimpers.

The rakshasa only hums in response. It’s hard to say whether your answer satisfies him.

A loud moan escapes your lips as Yanu easily slips his fingers inside your pussy. The stretch is already more than enough for you. Slow strokes have him reaching deliciously deep inside you.

“You look so pretty like this, princess.”

Looking for support, your hands grab his shoulders. It feels as though your abdomen is suddenly set on fire, your coherent thoughts swimming away and turning into static, if not disappearing completely. There is only Yanu, his quiet groans against your neck and his thick fingers hitting that perfect spot.

“Faster, please,” you squeal.

With utmost pleasure, he obliges immediately. It feels so good you could scream but not a sound leaves your agape mouth. If you weren’t so lost in your pleasure, maybe you’d notice your legs quivering. Your grip on his shoulders only tightens, earning a chuckle from him.

“My princess is going to come?” Yanu coos.

No answer comes from you, only another pathetic moan. Desperate to orgasm, you begin rubbing your clit. It’s “allowed” in these extraordinary circumstances. No doubt Yanu’s “I live to please you” attitude will come back behind closed doors and between the white sheets of your bed.

Your vagina is clenching around his relentlessly thrusting fingers, your whole body begins shaking. A cry gets stuck in your throat. The wave of pleasure, the climax he so eagerly gives you, washes over you more like a tsunami than a wave. It drowns out your thoughts, your breathing, your strength. Fortunately, Yanu has a tight grip around your leg, keeping you standing straight. He’s still sliding in and out of you, letting you ride out your orgasm.

Finally, he slips his fingers out of you. You’re about to say something, thank him or praise him, when a loud crash resounds from inside the bar. Someone’s yelling but the voice is too muffled for either of you to understand what’s the matter.

Yanu and you exchange a look of both confusion and worry. Then, as though lovers know something akin to telepathy, the two of you chuckle.

“Mojito,” you say simultaneously.

When your laughter, contrary to the row next door, dies down, you let out a sigh. “Guess we’ll have to postpone our little escapade.” 

Yanu brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. He’s a cheeky man, staring right into your eyes while doing something so indecent. “I’m fine with that,” comes the answer.

But you can play that game, too.

Low groan rumbles inside his chest when your hand teasingly rubs his prominent bulge. He clenches his fists, doing his utmost best to keep himself collected. You could so easily make him fail at that…

“Are you, though?” you ask with faux innocence.

Although you’ve just had a great orgasm, you can feel your pussy throbbing again. As your mind wanders for a second or two, pondering possibilities, your mouth starts watering.

Yanu firmly grabs the wrist of your hand caressing his crotch. Keeping you in place, he grinds against your palm. Through clenched teeth, he growls into your ear.

“I’m a big boy,” the rakshasa purrs. “I can wait a few hours.”

“I know you’re big, boy,” you retort in an equally sultry voice. “I’ll see you home.”

In a loving gesture, he nuzzles against your neck one last time. “Don’t stray.”

After that, he watches you walk away. Only when you disappear behind the corner does he go back inside the bar. As much as he likes Q’rill, he’d much rather go back home with you.

_____

*Lyrics from "Elderberry wine" by Elton John. A bit of an anachronism, yes, but a damn good song.

If you see any books, plays, movies, paintings or songs mentioned, it's most probably something very close to my heart :)

I'm also a complete greenhorn in writing smut, so bear with me as I learn on the go.

[caffedrine]

Rio Ortiz - Beyond the Connection Between the Past and the Present – Event Summary

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

On her day off, Emma sits in Rio’s room, drinking the tea he brewed.

Suddenly the door slams open, and to Emma’s shock a little kid who looks like a mini-Rio walks in, only to stop and stare at her as if she was the interloper.

The kid asks who she is, also asking what she thinks she’s doing in his room. Rio, who is also in the room, asks the kid who he is.

Valerio.

Huh, that name rings a bell for some reason.

Rio kindly introduces himself and asks Valerio about his circumstances. 

Well, he was just at the courtyard pool in the garden, but before he knew it, he was magically in the palace hallway. It was weird and scary, so he returned to his room, only to find them.

Rio nods and surmises that this is himself as a child somehow transported to the future. Emma feels like there were a lot of jumps to that reasoning - but here they are with a kid who looks like he’s doing his best not to cry, so she’ll go with it.

Besides, he looks just like a mini-Rio - all cute and adorable.

(Picture this but clingier)

Valerio does, unfortunately, break down into tears, and he asks them why he is here and what should he do. Emma reaches out and pulls him into an embrace, which Valerio admits he likes. 

Rio explains that somehow Valerio has found himself in his own future. Until they find a way to send him back to his own world, it might be better if Valerio stayed with them.

Since they’re here now, Emma asks if Valerio would like to play some games with him. Valerio cheers at this, he wants to go swimming, can they go to the beach.

He’s cute and a little spoiled, but Emma can’t bring herself to mind. She offers to make the three of them lunch to Valerio’s delight.

Literally peeling Valerio off of Emma, Rio offers to arrange the carriage. 

Valerio complains, he was comfortable hugging Emma, and she smells nice too!

Rio explains that Emma is his fiancé, and surely Valerio isn’t so rude as to try to cuddle someone else’s fiancé.

Well, if Rio is Valerio’s future self, that means Emma is his fiancé too. So, where is the problem?

(No! We are not applying logic to this situation!)

Oh, there is a big problem. Rio is the one who fell in love with Emma, confessed his feelings, grew his love with Emma, and got her to fall in love with him. Not Valerio. Yet.

Valerio grumbles that his adult self is especially heartless. Come to think of it, they have different names too . . . 

Rio explains the concept of nicknames to Valerio, which blows his younger self’s mind. 

Besides, it’s the name Emma picked for him .  . . 

Valerio complains about the weird expression Rio is making. Rio explains that he is never normal when he talks about Emma. He launches into a speech about all of Emma’s wonderful and excellent qualities.

Rio ends his profuse compliments by comparing Emma to an angel, which Valerio latches on. With shining eyes, he asks if Emma really is an angel.

Angels are kind, and pretty, and probably smell as nice as Emma. After listening intently to Rio, Valerio is now convinced that Emma is an angel touching down on earth.

Emma tries to explain metaphors to Valerio.

Valerio gives her a really big wink; angels are supposed to pretend they’re human when they walk on earth. Don’t worry, he totally understands.

Emma turns to Rio for help.

Rio muses that Valerio has a point, and besides, it’s not like she has ever proved that she’s not an angel. 

Valerio is happy, he’s going to the beach with an angel!

Defeated, Emma goes with it. Valerio is smart, he’ll figure it out eventually.

At the beach, Valerio puts his mind to collecting beautiful seashells for his angel- oops- his fiancé. Rio helps, and soon it’s time for lunch. 

Valerio cheers at eating lunch on the beach, and Rio fawns over Emma’s homemade meals.

They make sandcastles - or at least something similar. Valerio is proud of his boat; Emma thinks her rose cake is quite nice and Rio . . . Rio made an effigy of Emma out of sand. Rio is satisfied with his near-lifelike idol of Emma - he can admit that there are limits to how cute something that is not Emma could be. 

It’s starting to get late, so Rio suggests they return to the castle. Valerio, finally showing signs of exhaustion, agrees. Emma suggests that they bring back some of the seashells and make a decoration out of them to commemorate this trip. 

Valerio grows quiet - he likes the idea, but anything he ‘owns’ will be taken from him.

Oh, right, back then Rio wasn’t allowed to have things. 

Rio assures him that in this day and age, that won’t happen. Valerio snaps back that Rio is a liar, everything is always stolen from him. 

Emma comforts Valerio and asks him to trust her. She’s an angel, so her words are true, right? He doesn’t need to worry about that happening here.

Valerio relaxes, smiling up at her with pure trust. 

Rio remarks that all teasing aside, Emma is an angel to him and Valerio. The smile that he gives her is gentler than Valerio’s dazzling smile, but no less warm and trusting.

Maybe, if only for these two, being an angel isn’t so bad.

[kwanisms]

The Library of Illusion — Arachnophobia

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➮ jorogumo!Wooyoung × sub!Reader wc: 8.1k summary: Deep in the Horror Section, Y/N finds herself descending into a dark cave where she meets a man who is not what he seems. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; fantasy, horror; non idol au, jorogumo!Wooyoung warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, CW: SPIDERS & SPIDER CREATURE!WOOYOUNG, graphic body horror, mentions of blood and viscera, sexual content (18+ mdni), smut tags under the cut! ‼️IF YOU ARE SEVERELY ARACHNOPHOBIC, DO NOT READ THIS‼️

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny

special tags: @thelargefrye

Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. join my taglist! MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: this was interesting to write and I knew from the get-go I wanted to make Wooyoung a monster. I almost made him a werewolf but changed it to a jorogumo. Traditionally, jorogumo are female spiders that change into beautiful women but male spiders do exist so I thought maybe that might a cool idea and make a male jorogumo. I hope you enjoyed this part and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (use protection, especially if you're gonna bone a huge man-spider creature lmao), rope (web) bondage, monster genitalia, dirty talk, slight brat!Reader (it lasts for like .2 seconds lol), marking (f receiving), creampie/slight breeding kink (you have to squint for the last one tho), use of pet names (only sweetheart and darling one time but it's not entirely endearing) and i think that's everything but of course let me know if I missed anything!

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“How was your trip?” Seonghwa asked, clearly amused as you reached the desk and glared at him. “Don’t even ask,” you growled to which he merely chuckled.

“I trust you were successful?”

You raised your hand, opening it and letting the key fall to the desk with a metallic thud. Seonghwa’s eyes shifted from your face to look down at the key before a polite smile crossed his features. “Excellent,” he simply said, looking back up to meet your gaze.

“Where would you like to visit next?” He asked, getting up so effortlessly from the desk. You watched as he started to pace, circling you almost like a predator would circle his prey. “Only you can choose your next destination.

You turned to look around the room, noticing how the sign over the Science Fiction section had faded and all life from beyond the door disappeared, leaving nothing but blackness.

You tore your gaze from the door and peered around the others until your eyes landed on one. ‘Might as well get this over with,’ you told yourself as you turned to Seonghwa. “That one.”

Seonghwa followed your outstretched hand, pointing to the next entry in your story. As he read the sign he couldn’t help but feel a sense of amusement.

“The Horror Section,” he said softly as he turned to his desk, grabbing his key and leading you over to the door.

You watched as he unlocked the door and turned the old handle, ignoring the way it creaked and squeaked. He pushed the door open before turning to look at you. “Here you are,” he said, gesturing to the now open door.

Taking a deep breath, you took a cautious step into the hall. “Be wary of monsters,” Seonghwa warned as you stopped just past the door and turned to look at him. “Monsters?” You asked softly. He nodded.

“Yes, but sometimes they don’t look like monsters,” he added. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “What do they look like?” You whispered, eyes watching as he slowly closed the door until just his face peered in at you.

“Like you and me.”

And with that the door shut with a click, no doubt locked behind you.

“Is he always going to be so cryptic?”

You turned away and stared ahead. All you could see were the shelves on either side of you, even your flashlight did nothing to illuminate the black void that lay ahead of you.

Deciding it was much too late to turn back, you did the only thing you could and continued forward.

Each step on the creaky wooden floor echoed in the hall as your eyes darted around, searching for anything that would tell you where to look for the next key.

As you continued, the creaking of the wood was replaced with the tap of your boots against rock and you glanced down to see the wooden floor was now nothing but a rock and stone covered in dirt.

You glanced behind you where you could still see the door leading into the lobby and the wooden shelves full of books. ‘Just like the science fiction section,’ you noted internally before continuing down the tunnel and further into what appeared to be a cave system.

As you stepped down a small dip in the floor, the sound of rock scraping behind you caused you to freeze and turn slowly.

Behind you the tunnel had disappeared, a wall of rock now separating you from the only exit. “Great,” you murmured before turning back around and looking into the dark passage ahead.

You pulled out your flashlight and turned it on, the beam illuminating a small portion of the path in front of you.

Casting the light around gave you the chance to see the whole tunnel from side to side before you started walking forward, keeping your eyes open and ears straining to hear even the slightest shift.

You had only walked a few meters ahead when a rustling echoed through the passage. You froze in your steps, gripping the handle of your flashlight tighter as you braced yourself. The rustling faded just as quickly as it started but you saw nothing. ‘Maybe it’s just bats?’ You took a deep breath before continuing forward.

‘Yeah,’ you told yourself. ‘Just bats.’

Your feet carried you through the cave, footsteps echoing lightly as you moved. You kept your head and flashlight on a swivel, glancing around often to make sure nothing jumped out at you from the darkness.

You wondered just what could be down here, waiting for you.

This was the horror section after all.

Your mind wandered to all the horror movies you’d seen in your youth, especially the ones that took place in a cave. A shiver ran up your spine as you envisioned savage beasts that might be lying in wait to ambush you and eat your innards.

“Get a grip,” you whispered to yourself. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

No sooner did the words leave your lips that another sound reached your ears. It was like the rustling from before but there was something else to it. Almost a like a hissing sound. You froze yet again and looked around, glancing towards the cave ceiling. You expected to see bats but what you saw was much worse.

Spiders.

Hundreds of thousands of spiders were crawling all over the ceiling. As soon as the light hit them, they scattered around, avoiding the beam. It was like a steady stream of spiders all crawling in one direction and away from the way you were heading.

Your heartbeat quickened, palms growing clammy as you watched the spectacle.

“That doesn’t seem good,” you whispered before turning your light away from the spiders and continued further into the cave.

As you went, webbing started to appear, growing thicker the deeper you went. Something in the air shifted and the temperature dropped, sending chills down your spine and bumps forming on your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end but you persevered.

You tried not to imagine what the spiders would be moving away from as you reached a large open cavern. The ceiling extended upwards, reaching maybe twenty feet. Thick stalactite grew from the chamber ceiling, pointing down at you from above. Large rocky formations blocked your view of the room, forcing you to walk around them.

You continued to walk, ducking under thick white strands of webbing as you delved deeper and deeper into the cavern.

As you rounded one of the many tall rocks, your eyes landed on something in the darkness, lying on the ground. You shined your light in the direction and let out a gasp, eyes widening.

Lying about ten feet from where you stood was a man.

He was lying on his side, his back facing you. You cleared your throat before whispering out to him.

“H-hello?”

Your whisper echoed around the cave and you glanced around quickly.

Since entering the chamber, the rustling had stopped. The spiders were far behind you now.

You quickly made your way over to the man and leaned over, hoping to catch sight of his face. Small bits of web adorned his clothes and hair. You knelt down, reaching a hand out slowly until it made contact with his shoulder.

“Sir?” you whispered, giving him a gentle shake. When he didn’t stir, you carefully pulled his shoulder towards you, rolling him onto his back.

His head lolled as he landed, eyes still shut. You leaned over, listening for any breathing and felt relief wash over you as you heard steady deep breaths coming from him. He was alive, just unconscious.

Sitting back up straight, you reached forward, hesitating momentarily before you pushed his black hair from his forehead and felt his skin. He was warm to the touch but not feverish. You continued to look over him until he made a small noise.

You pulled back quickly, watching as his face screwed up as he came to. His brow furrowed as he started to open his eyes. You scooted back, keeping the light trained on him as he slowly woke up.

As soon as his eyes opened, he started to look around, turning his head before his eyes landed on you. He raised his hand to shield his eyes. “Yo,” he croaked. “Stop shining that shit on me. I can’t fuckin’ see.”

You lowered the light, pointing at the ground instead. “Thank you,” he said as he lowered his hand and looked around again as he sat up carefully.

“Who are you?” you asked before you could stop yourself. He turned to look at you, squinting as if he couldn’t see past the bright light of your flashlight.

“Wooyoung,” he answered simply before nodding in your direction. “Who’re you?”

You hesitated before answering him.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

He nodded slowly before slowly shifting and getting to his feet, you following suit but keeping the flashlight trained on his chest.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as Wooyoung looked around the cavern. He turned, looking at his surroundings before facing you again.

“I—” he hesitated, clearing his throat. “I don’t remember.”

Silence fell over you as he looked around and you studied him.

‘Maybe he’s the guardian?’ You wondered to yourself.

“Where are we?” he whispered, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

‘There went that idea.’

“Are you hurt?” you asked, drawing his attention. You raised the light to his face to which he immediately shielded his eyes. “Will you stop blinding me?” he grumbled exasperatedly.

You lowered the light with a soft apology. “Are you hurt?” you asked again.

He looked down at himself, looking over his extremities. “I don’t think so,” he replied, looking at his hands. He went to take a step and let out a whimper.

His ankle seemed to give out on him and he crumpled. You rushed forward, catching him with a groan as you tried to keep him from hitting the rocky floor.

You helped him back up, trying to help him balance as he looked up at you and let out an unsteady chuckle. “I guess I was wrong,” he admitted. You rolled your eyes before telling him to hold still and knelt down to look at his ankle. Handing the flashlight to him, you instructed him to hold it steady so you could see what you were doing.

You carefully rolled his pant leg up to expose the ankle and saw how bruised it was. “Holy shit,” you breathed. “How bad is it?” Wooyoung asked. You glanced up at him and then back down.

“How long have you been unconscious?” You asked, carefully prodding at the spot, taking note of how he winced and whimpered in pain.

“No idea,” he answered. “I don’t even know what day or time it is.”

You looked back up at him. “It’s…” you started as you checked your watch but trailed off when you noticed the hands weren’t moving. Not even the second hand.

“What the hell?” you whispered, bringing the device up to listen for the ticking but heard nothing. Wooyoung watched as you did this, keeping the light fixed on his foot.

“What is it?” he asked as you tapped the face of your watch. “It’s stopped working,” you answered. “This is brand new!”

You were starting to sound annoyed and exasperated before sighing in defeat. “Last I checked, it was ten in the morning on June eighth. Thursday,” you said as you went back to inspecting his ankle.

Wooyoung looked lost in thought when you glanced back up at him.

“That means I’ve been out for… a whole day?”

Your eyes widened, brows raising at his admission. “How long have you been down here?” you asked as you removed your pack and started to sift through it, looking for a bandage. “A week? No, two weeks,” he answered.

“My friends and I came—” he suddenly gasped, making you jump as you looked up quickly. “My friends!” he all but shouted. You shushed him quickly, glancing around. “Not so loud,” you replied, reaching back into your pack and pulling out the bandage you were looking for.

“I’m going to wrap your foot,” you announced as you carefully undid his shoe and pulled it off along with his sock. His entire foot was bruised, dark inky splotches covering his tanned skin tone. “This looks really bad,” you admitted as you looked over it. “Keep your foot straight,” you instructed as you started to wrap it carefully.

Wooyoung grimaced, wincing only a couple times as you wrapped his foot with as much expertise as you could before pulling his sock back on and easing his foot back into his shoe. “I’m not gonna tie this super tight,” you explained as you redid the laces on his shoes. “We just want it secure and not falling off.”

Wooyoung let you work, keeping the light pointed so you could see.

You finished tying his shoe on and let him place his foot back on the ground. He kept one hand on your shoulder as he slowly put his weight on his foot and winced but thankfully kept his balance.

“It hurts still,” he admitted. “But it feels steadier.”

You smiled up at him before packing your bag back up and slinging the strap over your shoulder.

You stood up, taking the flashlight from him and shining it around.

“So,” you said as you looked around. “Any idea on how to get out of here?”

You turned to look at Wooyoung who shook his head.

“Not really,” he answered before glancing around himself. “Just pick a direction and go?”

You nodded, shifting your backpack and putting your arm through the other strap.

“Can you walk?” you asked, turning to look at Wooyoung who took a shaky step forward. “Kind of,” he admitted. You switched your flashlight to the other hand and stepped forward. “You can put your arm around my neck,” you said. “I’ll help you.”

It was awkward, being this close to a man you just met but you’d already been fucked by an alien in the previous section so this was comparatively tame.

You helped support Wooyoung as the two of you continued further into the cavern, hoping to find some kind of exit or something.

“You’re awfully nice,” Wooyoung noted as the two of you stopped to let him rest. You were looking around, shining the light around the rock walls, trying to find an opening somewhere.

“I don’t think I know anyone who would help a stranger they found in a cave.”

You looked over your shoulder at him leaning against the rock wall opposite you.

You offered a kind smile. “I guess I’m just a big softie,” you answered, turning back around to look at the wall before you, not noticing the way Wooyoung’s smile fell, a serious expression taking over.

“That’s not always a good thing,” he replied softly.

You noticed the shift in his tone.

Turning back, you were met by his kind smile. “Some people might take advantage of your kindness,” he added. You chuckled. “Yeah,” you answered. “They usually do.” You walked back over to him. “I don’t think we’re gonna find anything here,” you explained. “Let’s keep going then,” Wooyoung replied.

You nodded as he stood back up, slinging an arm over your shoulder as your arm went around his waist and the two of you continued further until you reached a slim opening between the walls of the passage.

“You go first,” you offered but Wooyoung shook his head. “No, you go first. That way if I fall on the other side, you can catch me.” You let out a soft laugh.

“We’ve only known each other for about twenty minutes and you’re already admitting to falling for me?” You joked. A smile spread across Wooyoung’s face. “What can I say?” he asked with a shrug as he leaned against the rocks for support while you approached the narrow gap.

“I’m a sucker for a pretty girl,” he added with a wink. You rolled your eyes and turned to the side, starting to shimmy your way through the opening. It was fairly easy, even with your pack and soon you were on the other side.

You turned back to the gap. “Alright,” you called. “I’m through!”

Wooyoung didn’t answer. You peered through the rocks and saw him looking back behind him. “Wooyoung?” you called.

He turned his head slowly to look at you.

“Did you hear that?” he asked softly.

You shook your head, confusion taking over your expression as he turned his head back to look behind him. His eyes were wide when he looked back at you.

“You need to get out of here,” he said quickly. Now you were not only confused but also concerned. “Wooyoung, what are—”

“Go!” he shouted. “Get out of here! It’s not safe!”

Over the echo of his voice you heard another sound. The rustling was back.

“The spiders,” you whispered. “Wooyoung,” you said, drawing his attention. “Hurry up, come through the gap and we’ll leave together!”

He shook his head. “It’s too late,” he answered. “If you don’t go now, they’ll catch up to you too!”

You shined the light through the gap and noticed a thick wall closing in behind Wooyoung. Your throat constricted, tongue feeling dry as your stomach churned. “Come on, Wooyoung!” You yelled, stepping forward.

“I told you to run!”

The fear in his voice was audible. The panic on his face sent shivers throughout your entire body, chills working up your spine. It felt as if the spiders were on you. “Go,” he said softly as the wave of arachnids swept rapidly towards him.

“We can make it,” you urged, your eyes burning with unshed tears that started to blur your vision. You didn’t want to be alone again. He shook his head.

“It’s too late for me.”

You took several steps back as the blackness reached Wooyoung, tripping over a large broken bit of stalagmite and falling back, the flashlight flying from your hand as Wooyoung let out a shrill scream and the blackness swept him away.

You scrambled up, grabbing the light and shining it through the opening to find it empty.

“Wooyoung!” you screamed. The rustling and chittering started back up and you saw no other option but to turn tail and run. You scrambled over the rocky floor hastily as you headed for the only opening you saw.

Feet pounded the cavern floor as you sprinted through another passage, trying to use your flashlight to light your path. You heard another scream in the distance, echoing against the walls. You didn’t stop until you reached another room, tripping over another broken stalagmite.

You fell, the flashlight flying from your hand once more and clattering across the rocky floor as you fell hard, scraping your knees.

“Fuck!” You cursed, dust billowing from your breath as you shakily pushed yourself up, rolling over to assess the damage to your knees. Without the flashlight you couldn’t see much. Glancing around, you spotted it lying a few feet from you, pointing to an opening in the rock.

“Shit,” you hissed as you carefully got up and walked over, hands shaking as you neared the flashlight and leaned over to pick it up while dusting yourself off.

You shined the beam at your knees, clicking your tongue when you noticed light scrapes with minimal blood. “It could have been worse, I guess,” you whispered as you stood up straight.

You heard a soft scraping on the rock in front of you and snapped your head up to look forward. The gap before you was black and narrow. You could hear a soft breeze whistling as it blew through the gap.

Slowly, you raised the flashlight to shine into the opening.

Straining your ears, you heard the sound of pebbles crunching and the rustling from before only this time, much faster. It was approaching you rapidly.

You turned to continue running but ran straight into something.

Or rather, someone.

You shined the light up and exclaimed in shock and relief at Wooyoung standing before you.

“Oh my god! You’re alive!” you sobbed pulling him into a hug.

His arms went around you instinctively.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” you said, pulling back to look at him. He nodded, following your lead as you pulled him along. “I thought you were dead,” you said as you helped him over a rocky hurdle. He shook his head.

“I thought I was too,” he admitted.

You continued through the passage until it opened up into a large chamber.

You gasped, looking around. “We’ve gone in a circle,” you said softly as you looked around. Wooyoung leaned against one of the large rock formations as you looked around for another passage.

“Fuck!” You cursed angrily, kicking a small rock as Wooyoung’s hands went to his abdomen.

“I don’t feel so good, Y/N,” Wooyoung said, his voice sounding strained.

You turned around to shine the light on him. He looked like he was about to be sick. “Let’s keep moving,” you said, moving to help him up.

You’d only taken a couple steps when Wooyoung screamed out in pain, doubling over as he clutched his stomach. You tried to ask him what the matter was but he only continued to groan and scream as he dropped to his knees.

You knelt by his side, one hand on his back. “Wooyoung, what’s wrong?”

“Get back,” Wooyoung warned. You leaned over, trying to get a look at his face only for him to push you away with much force than you expected. The flashlight tumbled from your hand, rolling away as the beam danced across the rock.

Wooyoung’s groans of pain morphed into deep growling as his body jerked violently. You tried to scoot away, kicking up dust as you watched in abject horror as Wooyoung writhed before you.

His screams turned primal as you heard what sounded like his bones breaking.

“Wooyoung!” you cried out as his body jerked violently, a loud ripping sound echoed around the cavern.

There was a sharp snapping and you screamed as Wooyoung’s back burst open forcefully, blood splattering the wall, the ground, and you. His screaming stopped almost instantly, and your ears were left ringing as long appendages unfurled from Wooyoung’s back.

You watched in terror, covered in his blood as the appendages, all eight of them, moved. Sharp cracking like knuckles rang around the chamber as the tips of the limbs reached towards the ground.

Clicking and rustling, much louder than before, sounded as Wooyoung’s lifeless body slowly raised off the ground.

Your eyes widened in fear, stomach churning and heart racing as the lower half of Wooyoung’s body detached and slumped to the ground, viscera spilling over the rock and staining it. The creature before you paused, blood dripping from its body.

You leaned forward slightly as you saw Wooyoung’s head twitch.

‘How the hell is he still alive?’

Wooyoung’s head slowly raised up before looking around, settling on your form.

“Wooyoung?” You whispered, gasping as the eight limbs moved simultaneously, turning to face you. Your breathing grew ragged as you realized what you were looking at. Wooyoung wasn’t dead. He wasn’t killed by this creature.

He was the creature.

“Wooyoung,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked at him, taking in the ripped clothing still hanging from his frame. His blank expression shifted, a menacing smile spreading across his face as he advanced on you sitting helpessly backed against the cavern wall.

You tried to press back further against the wall, trying to escape him and his wicked smile. Staring up at the creature, you realized the man was gone, well at least the lower half was.

Before you was only half of Wooyoung. From the head down to the torso was human, the tanned skin blending into the blackish purple of his carapace.

Your eyes took in the strong eight legs as he raised far above you, towering over your meek frame. “Stupid, foolish, human,” he said, his voice taking on an echo-y sound, like it was more than one person speaking at once.

“You should have run while you had the chance.”

Your heart hammering in your chest, you darted forward, ducking under his purplish black spider-like body and between the four sets of legs as you scrambled past him and towards what you hoped was the exit. You could hear the head thud of his feet, all eight of them against the rocky cavern floor as he gave chase.

You ducked around and between the rock formations that appeared in your path, trying to lose him as you wound around turn after turn.

You could hear the chittering and rustling of his legs as he followed you the best he could.

Glancing over your shoulder, you could see you’d lost sight of him and quickly ducked behind a rocky outcrop, covering your mouth to mask your breathing as you listened.

The chittering grew closer and closer until it stopped not far from where you were hiding. Resisting the urge to peek, you kept still and as quiet as you could, listening to the clicking of Wooyoung’s feet against the cave floor.

“Hiding won’t do any good, Y/N,” you heard him say, his voice echoing around the cavern. “I can smell you.”

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you tried to force yourself to calm down. ‘He’s bluffing. There’s no way.’

The clicking grew closer and closer until you managed to catch sight of Wooyoung strolling past your hiding place. “I can smell your fear,” he continued, glancing around slowly, scanning the cave for any sight of you. “And let me tell you,” he continued.

“It smells delicious.”

Leaning back as far as you could into the shadows, you hoped he wouldn’t be able to see or sense your presence. As you leaned back, you were hit with a gentle breeze from the darkness behind you and turned your head to look further into the opening in the wall. A distance and dim light flickered at you.

You glanced back at Wooyoung who was continuing down the cave tunnel, still searching for you. Knowing he’d heard any sound you made at that moment, you decided to hold out for just a bit longer until you could safely scramble up and shimmy your way through the narrow opening.

You were so focused on formulating the plan that you failed to notice Wooyoung was slowly making his way back down the corridor. Your stomach dropped as he came back into view and you got a full view of his imposing stature.

‘It’s now or never,’ you told yourself as you glanced back to the flickering light in the distance. You waited until Wooyoung was facing the other direction before scrambling up. You ignored the sound of his laughter as you started to squeeze between the rock only to feel a hand wrap around your ankle.

You let out a scream as you felt Wooyoung tug on your leg, trying to pull you out of your hiding place. “I like it when you fight,” he chuckled, his strength coming to his advantage as he started to pull you from the sliver.

Your fingers dug into the dirt, trying to claw and grab at something to stop your path but you found nothing. Your screams echoed around the cavern as Wooyoung pulled you out of the dark and rolled you onto your back. As quickly as you could, you kicked your free foot, making contact with his jaw and knocking him back.

With him being stunned momentarily, you were able to scramble back up and squeeze back into the gap, soon squeezing out of his reach and further into the wall. “There’s no way out, Y/N,” he called, in a singsong voice, the sound echoing after you.

“I’ll find you eventually.”

You rushed yourself, squeezing between the gap in the rocks until you finally came out into a small room. There was a skeleton with remnants of clothing, an old tattered bag, a lantern, and a journal. You dropped to your knees and started sifting through the bag, hoping to find some sort of weapon.

You found a small knife and whispered a thanks to the dead traveler as you unsheathed it and looked it over. The handle was old and covered in dust but the blade was shiny and still very sharp. ‘This could come in handy.’

You replaced the sheath and stuck the knife in your pocket before searching through the rest of the bag. Most of it was old food rations, stale and molded. You threw the bag aside and picked up the journal, carefully opening the cover to read the contents.

The first entry spoke of an expedition into the cave system, hoping to find gold or some other rare mineral. The next entry of note was about a cave-in that left the miners trapped and forced them deeper into the caves to find a way out. The next entry spoke of a strange sound the miners heard and how one of the miners went missing.

With each passage, the entries became more sporadic, desperate, and unhinged until the last page was covered in splatters of blood and ink. You tossed the book aside, breathing heavily as you stared at the bloodstained pages.

As you tried to compose yourself, dust and small bits of rock fell from above you. Slowly, you glanced up to find a large round opening in the rocky ceiling. The blackness above you was haunting as more dust and pebbles fell onto your lap.

Before you had a chance to move, from the darkness a hand extended, fingers tangling into your hair and yanking you up to your feet, a yelp of pain escaping your lips.

You watched in horror as Wooyoung slowly descended from the black void, a terrifying smile etched on his face. “I told you I’d find you eventually,” he said with a dark amused tone. His grip on your hair tightened as he held you up, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes.

“What do you want?” You whispered, too afraid to speak any louder. “I told you before I’m hungry,” he answered, glancing briefly at the corpse on the ground by the lantern. “It’s been some time since a human wandered into my caves.”

Your eyes filled with unshed tears, breathing quickening. Wooyoung noticed and moved his free hand to wrap around your throat. “Oh, crying won’t get you anywhere, sweetheart,” he muttered, chuckling darkly. “But don’t worry,” he continued.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said as leaned in, face inches from yours.

“I don’t kill everyone.”

You glanced at the skeleton before looking back up to meet his gaze. “Why him?” You asked, clearly referencing the dead man. Wooyoung’s eyes darted to the lifeless skeleton before looking back.

“Because he’s a man,” he answered.

You narrowed your eyes at the monstrous creature.

“And that’s why you killed him?” Wooyoung nodded slowly.

“I had no use for him,” he answered, leaning in, sniffing your skin.

“The fear coming from you is so potent,” he added. “It’s making me hungry.”

You whimpered, fingers wrapping around his wrist as he lifted you off the ground, your feet dangling. “Don’t eat me, please,” you squeaked. Wooyoung laughed in your ear. “Oh, I don’t want to eat you,” he answered.

“I don’t eat females,” he added. “I have a much better use for you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but were unable to do so as the hand in your hair pulled, tilting your head to the side and exposing part of your neck to him and just as quickly, you felt a sharp pain in your neck as he sank his teeth into your skin.

You struggled against him, trying to kick at him as your vision blurred.

“Keep fighting, darling,” he teased. “It’ll just speed up the process.”

“What p-process?” You slurred, feeling dizzy, your grip on his wrist slacking.

“The more you move and struggle, the faster my venom will spread through your tiny human body,” he answered, whispering in your ear.

“But don’t worry,” he added. “It won’t kill you. It’ll just knock you out for a while.”

“No,” you murmured feebly as your strength left you, your extremities starting to feel the effects, the tips of your fingers and toes going numb. “Stop.”

Wooyoung chuckled in your ear as your eyes started to slide shut and everything went black. “See you in a few hours, Y/N.”

When you came to, your eyes snapped open but failed to adjust to the darkness around you at first. You tried to move but found your limbs were locked in position. You tried to roll over but you couldn’t move.

Slowly, your eyes adjusted to the darkness around you and you could see you were suspended in the air at least ten feet off the cavern floor.

“What the fuck?” You whispered, struggling to move your hands. Your wrists were bound in some sort of white rope. The same rope was wrapped around your ankles, midsection and even some of it was around your neck, keeping you firmly immobilized.

“What the fuck is this?!”

Your voice echoed around the rock and you knew there was no way that Wooyoung hadn’t heard you. As if summoned, you heard the clicking as he started to approach. You watched as he rounded a large rock formation and came into view. He looked at you, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said teasingly as he slowly advanced. “Aren’t you a vision,” he added, walking around your form and eyeing you up.

“What a precarious position you’ve found yourself in,” he continued as he rounded to face you again. “You put me in this position,” you growled, glaring at him. He chuckled, reaching a hand up to cup his own cheek.

“You flatter me,” he said with feign embarrassment.

“Let me down!” You demanded but Wooyoung’s playful demeanor dropped. “And if I refuse?” he asked, taking a couple steps forward. Your eyes fell on a flash of something around his neck and you realized it was the key.

How had you not seen it before?

Wooyoung tilted his head, watching you before glancing down and seeing what had caught your attention. “Oh? This is what you came for, isn’t it?” He asked, looking back up to meet your gaze.

“You want this?” He asked.

You nodded, struggling against the bonds.

Wooyoung pulled the string off and held it out. “Go on then,” he smirked. “Take it.”

You struggled against the white ropes and growled in defeat when you couldn’t break it, nor make it budge.

You let out a defeated sigh, head hanging. “I can’t,” you whispered.

Wooyoung smirked as he watched your resolve crumble. “Of course not.”

You raised your head to glare at him. He laughed again as he replaced the string around his neck, the metal of the key resting against his chest.

“Tell you what,” he started, looking back up. “I’ll give you this key if you do something for me.”

You narrowed your eyes, wondering just what you could possibly do for him.

“And what is that?” you asked suspiciously. Wooyoung started to circle you again, ducking his head as he passed under the thick white ropes.

“I told you before, I don’t eat females that wander into my cave,” he started. “Only the men.” You nodded as he passed behind you, feeling a chill run up your spin as you felt the tips of his fingers graze the back of your calf muscle.

“There’s a reason for that,” he continued.

“I know,” you answered. “The men don’t have a purpose.”

Wooyoung chuckled, amused that you paid attention. “Precisely.”

“And the women do?” you asked as his fingertips continued to dance over your skin, moving up the back of your leg until he took a firm grip of the back of your thigh. “They do,” he answered, giving your thigh a firm squeeze before his hand continued up, running over the material of your khaki shorts.

“You know,” he said as his hand moved over your ass. “You should have hidden this better,” he continued, reaching into your pocket and removing the small knife you’d taken from the tattered bag earlier.

“Maybe then I wouldn’t have found it so easily,” he added, tossing it aside, the knife landing with a dull thud as it hit the rocky floor.

You struggled against your bonds as his hand continued up your backside, moving around to your hip. “What do you want with me?” You whispered as his other hand moved up your stomach, stopping just under your chest.

“I have a strange interest in human women,” Wooyoung answered. “My own kind have often ridiculed me for it and even going so far as to ostracize me for it.”

You swallowed the knot that had formed in your throat. “What kind of interest?”

Wooyoung chuckled unceremoniously as his hands made quick work of the bonds holding your ankle, cutting through the rope like it was nothing. Like it was made of—

“Wait,” you gasped as the realization dawned on you. “Is this spider web?!”

Wooyoung laughed. “Took you long enough but even then, most don’t ever figure it out,” he answered. “You’re a smart one, Y/N.”

You glanced back at him from behind you. “What kind of interest do you have in human women?” you asked, trying to gauge his reaction. He looked up from your backside, eyes meeting yours in a heated gaze.

“A sexual one.”

Your stomach dropped at the implications of his words at the same time a heat rushed to your core. ‘A sexual interest?’

“What does that mean? Like you want to study the human body?”

Wooyoung chuckled again, shaking his head. “I think you know exactly what it means, sweetheart,” he answered.

Your heart hammered in your chest.

“You want to…” you trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

“I want to mate with them,” he finished the sentence for you.

Your cheeks burned, heat flooding your core and rushing between your thighs.

Wooyoung let out a soft laugh. “You’re a strange one,” he said softly, hands moving down to your thighs. “I mention sex one time and your scent changes.”

Your face flushed with heat, realizing he could smell your arousal.

“First you reeked of fear and now? Nothing but arousal,” he noted, leaning in to sniff again. “Seems I’m not the only one interested in cross species breeding,” he continued.

You felt his hands withdraw from your body and twisted to try and get a look at him but he was no longer behind you. You heard a scuttling and turned back around to find him in front of you, face inches from yours.

“So how about it?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I’ll even give you this key if you let me have my way with you.”

You gulped, staring back at him looking between his black eyes.

After a moment, you slowly nodded. “But,” you added. “Leave my ass alone.”

Wooyoung laughed loudly.

“Deal,” he answered, moving quickly behind you.

You felt his hands reach around to undo the button and zipper of your shorts before quickly discarding them along with your panties. “Wow, you waste no time,” you gasped as you felt his fingers spread your folds.

“There’s no need to,” he replied. “You seem to be properly lubricated,” he answered. “Could you possibly untie me, though?” you asked, sounding hopeful and trying to glance behind you.

“No,” he answered flatly. “I prefer this,” he added.

Silence fell between the two of you for a moment before he spoke up again.

“But I suppose I could make you more comfortable though.”

You sighed in relief as he cut through the bonds on your wrist and neck, moving your arms behind your back and quickly wrapping them in the same thick white ropes of webbing. “Is that too tight?” he asked, satisfied when you shook your head.

“Good,” he replied, reaching around to quickly unbutton your top, leaving it open and exposing your black lace bra. “This is pretty,” he noted, ducking his head to look under your body at the material.

“Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Wooyoung chuckled, rolling his eyes before grabbing your hips. “You sure you don’t want to see what you’re getting yourself into?” He asked.

You hesitated. Did you want to see it? Was it human or was it something else.

“Do you think I should?” you asked, not sure if you wanted to or not.

Part of you was curious while the rational part of you said no way.

Without answering you, Wooyoung’s hands left your hips and you heard him moving around your body, leaving your glistening cunt exposed to the cool air of the cave.

You waited in anticipation as he rounded in front of you and held your gaze with his black eyes.

Slowly, your eyes traveled down his chest and torso until you saw it.

Your eyes widened, lips parting in a soft gasp.

At the base of his torso was a slit, just past where the golden skin blended into the blackish purple. Protruding from the slit was what you would call his cock.

It was dark indigo at the base, close to the body, fading into a very pale lilac, the same color as his tongue. The head of the shaft was very bulbous, thinning as it neared the base.

The sides of the shaft were covered in rows of bumps. The entire thing curved back towards his body and allowed you to see the thick vein on the underside that ran the entire length. The pointed head was rounded at the tip with light ridges that rippled down to the glans.

Your eyes moved back up to meet his gaze. “Are you scared yet?” he asked.

You shook your head. If anything, you were more turned on by seeing exactly what he was about to put inside you. Wooyoung’s stoic expression morphed into amusement. “Is that so?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you answered him. “I’ve had bigger.”

You weren’t exactly certain where the sudden boldness came from but it seemed to do the trick. The smirk on Wooyoung’s face dropped and he quickly rounded back behind you. “We’ll see about that,” he retorted.

You felt his hands on your hips, tilting your body down as he positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Just to be certain,” he said, hesitating. “You are giving me permission to mate you?” You rolled your eyes with an annoyed groan. “Yes, just fuck me already!”

Without another word, Wooyoung pulled your hips back, pushing his cock past your folds and driving it deep into your wet pussy.

You let out an involuntary moan as he bottomed out, cock stretching your walls as they fluttered around him.

“Oh,” he murmured. “You’re much tighter than I expected.”

You let out a moan as he gave you a measured thrust, pushing and pulling your hips back, your ass meeting his own hips.

Another moan left your lips as you felt his cock throb inside your cunt.

“So warm and wet,” he noted with a shudder. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he added with a hint of amusement. “Just fuck me, damn it,” you hissed, regretting your words almost instantly as he set a merciless and unrestrained pace, ramming into you with a strength you’d never experienced.

“Oh holy shit,” you gasped, the sound of your skin hitting his reverberating off the walls and echoing around the cavern as he relentlessly drilled your pussy.

“I don’t think I’ll last long,” Wooyoung grunted, the tightness of your walls clearly affecting him more than he let on. “So quick?” You teased, the brat in you jumping out. “Keep teasing me,” he urged. “And I’ll make you regret it.”

You let out a whimper, your nails digging into your palms as you felt one of his hands make contact with your ass, your walls tightening around his cock. “You humans are so predictable,” he noted with a chuckle.

“Always like being spanked.”

You moaned loudly, ignoring the way the sound filled the cave along with the lewd wet sounds of his cock entering your soaked cunt repeatedly and the sound of your skin hitting his with each thrust.

“Was the last guardian this rough with you?” he asked, his grip on your hips tightening, fingers digging into your bare waist.

‘How did he know about that? Could he smell it?’

You shook your head, moan after moan leaving your lips as your head hung, unable to keep it up anymore.

“I can tell. He was too tame. Too soft on you.”

You raised your head to speak but let out a yelp as you felt a sharp pain in your back just above your hip. “What are you doing?” you yelled as you felt Wooyoung’s tongue run over the same spot.

“Marking you,” he answered. You whined, pulling against the restraints. “What about your venom? Isn’t that gonna make me pass out?”

Wooyoung let out another chuckle. “I didn’t inject any venom this time,” he answered. “Just teeth, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to respond but found yourself unable as one of his hands grabbed the bindings around your wrists, pulling back and pulling you into his thrusts. “Stop talking,” he growled. “You’re going to ruin this with your words.”

You obeyed his demand, simply moaning loudly, each thrust drawing whimpers and groans as you neared your peak. He wasn’t far behind, his thrust growing sloppier and more erratic told you he was about to blow any moment.

As your walls convulsed around him, you finally tumbled over the edge, coming with a loud, wanton moan, your cunt gripping him tightly.

Wooyoung wasn’t far behind, his grip on your hips tighter, his sharp nails digging into your flesh as he came with a growl, hips stilling as he flooded your abused hole with his sticky seed.

Each spurt inside you made his throbbing cock twitch until it subsided, thick strings of the viscous fluid leaking from you and spilling onto the cave floor.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your body shuddering as you came down from your high.

“That certainly was interesting,” Wooyoung said from behind you, slightly breathless. You winced as he pulled his cock free from your cunt, more of his seed spilling onto the floor. “And don’t worry about that,” he added as he moved to release your arms from their bonds.

“I’ve mated with enough human women to know we aren’t compatible.”

Your legs shook as Wooyoung lowered you to your feet, his strong hands holding you steady. “You alright?” he asked softly, watching you carefully. You nodded slowly. “Just a little wobbly,” you admitted. Wooyoung chuckled as he let go.

Your eyes landed on the knife he’d thrown away earlier, now laying at your feet.

“Well,” he said suddenly, drawing your attention. You looked up at him as he removed the key from around his neck. “A deal is a deal,” he added, holding out the string for you to take. You extended your hand and took the key from him.

“Here are your clothes,” he added, also holding out your shorts and panties.

You took them hesitantly and glanced up at him.

“You’re really going to let me go?” You asked softly.

He nodded. “Unless you’d prefer I eat you,” he answered with a devilish grin. “I’m being generous. Leave before I change my mind.”

With that, you hurried past him. “Take a left at the fork,” he called to you as he disappeared into the blackness behind you. You hurried down the tunnel, stopping briefly to pull your clothes back on, making sure to button your blouse and shorts back up before glancing at the key in your hand.

You heard a shift echo in the tunnel and quickly continued on, taking the left at the fork and noticed how the rock began to give way to wooden shelves, lined with books. The door came into view and you reached it, twisting the knob and throwing it open, slamming it shut behind you and leaning against it for support.

Glancing up you were met with the sight of Seonghwa looking at you from the desk.

“Welcome back,” he called, setting his quill down and bringing his hands together.

“I trust you were successful?”

[perotovar]

hey sweeties!! kel and i put a list together of all the submissions we got for our event and split them into two masterlists of fics for you all to read and enjoy! this is my part of the list, so if you don't see yours give @beskarandblasters 's list >here< a look and see if that's where your fic/submission ended up!

we can't thank you enough for submitting and helping us give a voice to the smaller writers of the fandom ♥ oh, and for any multi chapter fics/series, we only read the first chapters to make it fair!

please make sure to read each fic's warnings carefully and happy reading! ♥

@iamskyereads - Compulsion (Ezra x ofc!Beatrice)

i can't even begin to describe how much i love this fic already. it's so smart and the worldbuilding?? incredible!! it feels like a sequel to the film, or like it could easily take place in the same universe. just brilliant. and ezra's voice is so clear here, i could hear him saying every word. and the oc, beatrice, is fascinating already, i can't wait to see where it goes!

@all-the-way-down-here - This Is Why We Fight (Dieter x nb!oc!Bell)

i love the start of this. both dieter and bell have excellent characterization and the conversations being had by every character feel so real and are so important. bell's group of friends all sound like friends i would have, and i would love to hang out with them. i love the direction this is going!

@linzels-blog - Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie x f!reader)

ahh what a delightful little fic! it feels very much like an early 2000s rom com and i mean that in the best way! very cute and i love the vibes. everyone's characterization is great and i can't wait to sink my teeth into the rest of it!

@elvenmother - Context and Perspective (Marcus M x f!reader)

completely obsessed with this concept. i love a good enemies to lovers and this is such an awesome way to do it! i always see marcus m fics featuring someone without superpowers, but to have a character that's just as powerful as him? sign me up!

@kedsandtubesocks - In the Dead of the Night (Din x f!reader)

one of my absolute favorite din fics. the worldbuilding and din's creature form is incredible. i love a horror au that's flipped on its head. i also love the "creature is also the hunter" trope and this does that incredibly well. the atmosphere is off the charts.

@ghostofaboy - Rock Bottom (Frankie x original male characters)

god, i don't even know where to begin with this story. it's so raw and visceral and i can't say enough how much i enjoy it. i love reading something new and especially if it's coming from a male perspective. this is, unfortunately, something i could see frankie getting up to. frankie is such a deeply tragic character and this fic does that justice in a dark, but really intriguing way.

@ishabull - The Way We Were Drawn (Marcus P x f!reader)

ohh this is such a sweet fic. i love the imagery painted and the dynamic between marcus and reader is so sweet!

@secretelephanttattoo - Headshots (Marcus P x f!reader)

this fic is beyond sweet and so dreamy. the ideal scenario for anyone, in my humble opinion. who wouldn't want to take pictures of handsome fbi agents and then fall in love with said agent?

@lesbianhotch - you walk by and i fall to pieces (Frankie x f!reader)

THIS WAS THE CUTEST DAMN THING. i love me a nervous frankie (hello, have you read my fic lmao) and this was by far one of the cutest. i'm obsessed with reader's confidence and i just know those two are gonna be menaces once they're together. throw in some patsy cline and i am a goner. this is going on the reread list for sure.

@insomniamamma - Remain Nameless (Ezra & Cee w/ gn!reader)

ok, this one actually made me cry. i'm not sure if it's my own sleep-deprived ass that caused it but this is probably one of the most beautiful but sad fics i've read in a long time. i mean all of this in the best way because i don't normally get emotional from fics. prospect as a movie makes me emotional, though, so it doesn't surprise me that this did as well. it's such an incredible missing scene that i can, unfortunately, see absolutely happening. have some tissues nearby.

@sweetercalypso - Unlikely Friends (Joel x gn!reader)

this fic is one of my absolute favorite fics for joel. a big reason for that is i have a cat named tilly. and imagining joel reluctantly and grumpily cuddling with my tilly makes me emotional, ok??

@softstarlite - The Casualty of Love (Javi P x f!reader)

very cute! i love the awkward tension around not seeing someone for so long and there being a huge glow up maturity-wise from one of them! seeing someone in a new light is always a strange thing and i love the start to these two and their journey!

@julesonrecord - Shots (Jack x f!reader/oc)

probably one of the best post-movie fics i've ever read for jack. the way jack's trauma and therapy is handled is so fucking brilliant and tonic is one of the best fucking characters, god. eva is written so well and i just. i can't recommend this fic enough. if you like jack, hell even if you don't, give this fic a shot. i promise you'll come out of it liking it.

@coulsons-fullmetal-cellist - The Audition (Dieter x f!reader)

goddd this was so cute! dieter's insecurities don't come up very often and i absolutely love what a match he and reader make. she's so sweet with him and takes such good care of him. and he loves her so much and i love them ok

@max--phillips - A Little Lipstick Never Hurts (Max P x f!reader)

this is one of the best explorations into kink that i've ever read. it's so respectful and hot as fuck. completely obsessed with this take on max as a character and i can't get enough of the dynamic between him, reader, (and eventually dieter). it may not be everyone's cup of tea, but i highly encourage you to give it a try. max gets some well deserved lessons taught, and who doesn't love that?

@coastielaceispunk - The Gift of Lingerie (Max L x f!reader)

god, this was so fucking hot. i'm so here for a mentally healed maxwell in a healthy marriage with a fulfilling sex life lol the little bit of teasing on both their parts was beyond sexy and i loved how equal everything felt. ugh, will be rereading this one for sure.

@lotrefcp - Hidden Away (Javi P x f!reader)

i'm obsessed with a no nonsense reader with just as much attitude/sass as javi does lol i just kept reading going GET HIS ASS. an excellent start to a universe i'm excited to sink my teeth into!

@beefrobeefcal - On the Waterfront (Frankie x f!reader)

oh, this is dark. i love the vibes immediately. i've had a weird fascination with the mafia for most of my life and this has that air about it. a dark, chubby mob boss!frankie is right up my alley for sure. i love that he's still frankie tho. sensible, practical, but with an edge. mind the warnings.

@flightlessangelwings - La Estrella de Mi Vida (Javi G x f!reader)

ahhh so romantic and so tragic!! i swear, it's impossible to make javi unappealing but this fic is just so sweet and manages to make me love him even more (somehow). but i love the added drama and tension from outside forces!! i need to read the rest of it asap!

@littlemisspascal - Rockford & Roan (Tim x f!reader)

my god, i love this?? i'm not usually one for superpowers/soulmate au's but i'm in love with the practicality of this? it feels otherworldly without being too much and it's very grounded. i love the reader and the way tim is written is so believable. i love that we as a fandom have created such a visceral image of this character from only a minute's worth of footage!

@something-tofightfor & @the-blind-assassin-12 - Aphelion (Oberyn x Ellaria & f!reader)

goddd the imagery painted in this one. so heartbreaking. absolutely breathtaking. i'm a slut for vampires and i'm a slut for oberyn/ellaria. this is absolutely something i will be reading the rest of lol

@bluestar22x - The Rockford Files (Tim x f!reader)

ok this is insanely good. one of my favorite books of all time is "red dragon" by thomas harris and i felt like i was reading that again while i read this. the details of the case and the cadence of everything was top notch. obsessed with the psychic element thrown in there and i'm beyond excited to see where tim and psy end up next!

bonus:

@sweetenerobert - Fiction vs Reality (Tommy Miller x m!reader)

ohhhh my god. you give me a bisexual tattoo artist tommy miller with stretched ears and i'm supposed to be normal about it??? UNLIKELY. i am extremely tempted to edit this into reality ngl but my god. this was so fucking hot lmao

[talonabraxas]

Vajrasattva “diamond being.” Talon Abraxas Vajrasattva is a Bodhisattva that symbolizes primordial purity. Meditating upon him helps us to purify the mind of greed, hatred, and delusion. At his heart he holds a vajra thunderbolt, which represents his upaya, or his skill in liberating beings by means of compassion. At his waist he holds a bell representing wisdom. Vajra means “thunderbolt,” although it can also mean “diamond.” The thunderbolt was the most powerful force, while the diamond was the most indestructible object known. The vajra that he holds is almost identical to some of the stylized thunderbolts held by Zeus in ancient Greek statues. “Sattva” means “being.” Vajrasattva is therefore the “Thunderbolt being.” This makes him a kind of Buddhist Zeus, although his thunderbolts are destructive only of that which holds us back from awakening. The 100-syllable mantra of Vajrasattva. oṃ vajrasattva samayam anupālaya vajrasattva tvenopatiṣṭha dṛḍho me bhava sutośyo me bhava supośyo me bhava anurakto me bhava sarva siddhiṃ me prayaccha sarva karma su ca me cittaṃ śreyaḥ kuru hūṃ ha ha ha ha hoḥ bhagavan sarva tathāgatavajra mā me muñca vajrī bhava mahā samaya sattva āḥ (hūṃ phaṭ) A symbol of the mind’s inherent purity Vajrasattva’s name (Tib. dorje sempa) means “diamond being.” He represents the innate purity of the mind. You can imagine your mind as being like a sky through which clouds pass. The clouds come and they go, but the sky remains untouched. The sky is inherently blue and clear, and although its blueness and clarity can be obscured it can never be destroyed. The clouds are like the greed, hatred, and delusion that pollute the mind. Because of the transient nature of these mental states, they cannot be said to be an inherent part of the mind. They may obscure the mind’s inherent awareness and compassion, but those qualities are never absent. The meaning of the mantra The mantra means: Oṃ Vajrasattva! Preserve the bond! As Vajrasattva stand before me. Be firm for me. Be greatly pleased for me. Deeply nourish me. Love me passionately. Grant me siddhi in all things, And in all actions make my mind most excellent. hūṃ! ha ha ha ha ho! Blessed One! Vajra of all the Tathāgatas! Do not abandon me. Be the Vajra-bearer, Being of the Great Bond! āḥ (hūṃ phaṭ)

The Three Jewels

Gnosis of Buddha Dharma

Buddha Nature

The main thing that we have to grasp, firstly, is that we have within us the consciousness; we have an Essence, the tathagatha-garbha, which is the Buddha nature. The Buddha nature is that free consciousness, the embryo from which we can elaborate our complete development. This is the most fundamental thing that we have to understand: inside of us is the potential to become a fully awakened Buddha. Fully developed. Completely gone beyond suffering. Without any afflictions. Without any doubts. Without any anxieties. That capacity is within each one of us. This is the most important thing that we need to understand. And this is not simply an intellectual understanding. It is practical. Before we can comprehend anything about the Three Jewels or about Taking Refuge, we have to know how to work with our consciousness. It is through working with and experiencing the nature of our own consciousness that our own comprehension begins to blossom.

This Buddha nature has, as its fundamental essence, luminosity, clarity, perception. Stated in another way, we know that the consciousness in its essence, in its base nature, is radiant and clear, free and happy, at complete peace, with complete serenity. An embodiment of love. Pure. And all of us have that, to some degree or another, within. This is the first fundamental thing that we need to begin to really understand practically: to learn how to work with the consciousness, from moment to moment. Not just in a theoretical way, and not just as an interesting experiment, but as something that we actively work with continually.

The second fundamental thing that we have to understand is that our consciousness is trapped in the ego, and that this ego modifies or conditions the consciousness. We call this ego, aggregates, afflictions, negative emotions, but this is the base of suffering, this is why we have suffering. The main thing to comprehend about this conditioned state is that it is possible to end it. It is possible to free the Buddha nature or the consciousness from affliction. And this is what the Four Noble Truths present, the most basic teaching of Buddhism: there is suffering, but there is also a way to come out of it.

The third point is that we need to understand that science or path, that there is a science to transform the mind, a science that we can use to transform the ego, the afflictions, negative emotions, and transmute them, to change them into something else, to end the affliction. So these three understandings are the most basic fundamentals that we need to understand practically, in our experience, in order to penetrate into the deeper meaning of the Triple Gem. Without this, without the practical experience of our Buddha nature, without the practical experience of seeing how our ego works, and knowing that there is a way to end the affliction is imposes upon us, and without actively working with that science to end that affliction in our own mind, we cannot comprehend the true nature of what a Buddha is, or what the Dharma is, or what the Sangha is.

Dharma

These three understandings, in their synthesis, are the Dharma, itself. Dharma comes from the root word in Sanskrit, ‘dhar,' which means "to hold." And that is why when we talk about Dharma, we talk about a law or a truth or something fundamental, something true. Because a truth holds; it has solidity, it has strength, it has reality. Dharma, in itself, is knowledge of truth. To acquire that requires that we make the effort to do so; to acquire that knowledge of truth through our own experience, consciously, not just theoretically.

When we study the Dharma, what we are studying are these three understandings and how to deepen our practical experience of these three understandings. But ultimately our goal in studying Dharma is to acquire our own experience of that truth, to know that Dharma for ourselves. And when we study the Gnostic Dharma - and by Gnostic Dharma I mean: (a) gnostic in terms of personal experience, knowledge that we acquire through our own consciousness and (b) Dharma is truth. So to say "Gnostic Dharma" is to have our own conscious, direct experience of the fundamental law, the fundamental truth. And that Gnostic Dharma can be called many other things. It may be called Buddhism or Christianity, Sufism, Islam; it does not matter about those names. What matters is whether that science, used practically, helps us awaken our own consciousness and begin to overcome suffering in our own mind.

When we get into really acquiring the practical experience of our own consciousness and freeing it from the ego, really awakening the consciousness, we start to understand something about the depth of teaching in the Dharma. So it is good for us to first really see and understand what Dharma means.

Dharma as a word, in itself, has two main aspects. I explained to you that it literally means truth or law, but the ultimate statement of Dharma is that the end of suffering is achievable, that there is a state of being free of suffering. There is a state of existence, a state of consciousness, which is beyond suffering. So we would say this is the fact of or the prospect of what in Buddhism is called "true cessation." Cessation in this case is referring to the end of afflictive emotion, the end of afflictive thought, and the end of afflictive action or sensation. Cessation means "a stopping of activity; serenity, peace, equanimity." So true cessation would be Dharmic Realization. It is another way to say the same thing. This would be a perfect serenity, a perfect mind: a Vajrasattva. A Diamond Soul is an ultimate expression of true cessation. Another word for it is Dharma-kaya. The Dharma-kaya is the "truth body of the Buddha." This is the highest aspect, the highest function, the highest body or vehicle through which a Buddha can express himself.

The second use of the word Dharma refers to the path to achieve this state of cessation. So we need to see these two aspects of the word, because we use them interchangeably, Dharma as a state of being and Dharma as a path. But in reality, when we talk about it, in both cases what we are talking about is that we have to acquire our own conscious experience of that. It is not enough to just believe this or have faith in it, or accept it or reject it in the mind. Dharma in itself has to become Gnostic, to be something experiential, both as a path and as a state of being.

This state of existence, of Dharma, of cessation, can only be acquired through paths that understand it. What I am saying here is explicit: not all religions teach how to reach full cessation or awakening, not all beliefs, not all theories, not all movements, not even all of Buddhism. If a school or a teaching or a teacher or a doctrine does not teach and express an understanding or comprehension of the nature of cessation, they cannot lead you to it. This needs to be explicitly understood. Many people nowadays try to build their own religion, to read different books, different teachers, different ideas, and to put together their own concept of what religion is or what God is, and this is fundamentally mistaken.

What we all have to grasp is that our own mind put us in the situation of suffering and ignorance that we are in, thus we cannot rely on our mind to get us out. We have to rely on something else. This is why the Three Jewels are so important. The Three Jewels provide a refuge within which our consciousness can be protected from our own faulty mind. The enemy that we have is ourselves, our own mistaken perceptions, and our own mistaken view. We suffer because of our own mistakes, because of our own misperceptions, and so long as we persist in refusing to see that, our suffering will only become worse.

Do not make the mistake of thinking that life will just continue the way it is, or fall into this illusion that somehow life is just going to get better. Many believe somehow in the future life will be better than it is now. This is a lie. What will be, will be a result of what is done now. Everything that is, is a result of causes. Causes that we are producing now, produce the effects that we will experience later.

What we have to grasp is that we are in the situation that we are in now because we made it: our suffering, in doubt, in fear, with anxiety, with stress, with illnesses, both physical and emotional, mental; with anger, with lust, with the uncertainty of death hanging over us. We have all of those problems because of our own mind, because of our own actions; we cannot blame someone else. And because of that, if we continue to behave the way we have been, then our problems will only multiply.

The thing we have to grasp is that our suffering originated because of our own activities. This is why we need gnosis, our own conscious experience of truth, our own direct experience, not to just believe someone, not to just accept what they say or reject what they say, but to experience it. This is the only way that we can make a fundamental change. Through our own experience.

A belief does not remove suffering. There are many people who believe in Jesus, or who believe in Buddha, who believe in Mohammed, or Moses, and they still suffer terribly. Mere belief does not conquer suffering.

Another way to look at the word Dharma is by its definition as "action." Dharma is a way of acting, a way of behaving. And that is what we need. We need a type of action that produces new consequences, new results. One way we can see that is, through the course of our lifetime, we may have changed our beliefs many times, learning new things, being exposed to new things, and having different kinds of experiences. We learned different beliefs. If we look at it just from the religious point of view, people now have changed religions a few times in their lives. They may grow up Christian then begin to study Hinduism or Buddhism or even convert to being a part of Judaism or Mormon, and this really, without conscious action to change, is just about the same thing as changing your clothes. People really look to just change the appearances or change their beliefs in order to try to comfort themselves or to avoid seeing their fear. This is common in many religions, religions that really emphasize the need to be afraid. And so people come there hoping that if they believe in the religion, their fears will be absolved; hoping that by having faith in their given religion they will not need to be afraid anymore. This is really misleading. The cause for fear is the nature of the mind that we have. It is the nature of our mind that produces our suffering. As long as that mind has not been changed for the better, suffering will result. It does not matter what you believe. It does not matter what I believe. It matters what we do, how we act, how we change.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Twinkfrump Linkdump

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in CHICAGO (Apr 17), Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Welcome to the seventeenth Pluralistic linkdump, a collection of all the miscellany that didn't make it into the week's newsletter, cunningly wrought together in a single edition that ranges from the first ISP to AI nonsense to labor organizing victories to the obituary of a brilliant scientist you should know a lot more about! Here's the other 16 dumps:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

If you're reading this (and you are!), it was delivered to you by an internet service provider. Today, the ISP industry is calcified, controlled by a handful of telcos and cable companies. But the idea of an "ISP" didn't come out of a giant telecommunications firm – it was created, in living memory, by excellent nerds who are still around.

Depending on how you reckon, The Little Garden was either the first or the second ISP in America. It was named after a Palo Alto Chinese restaurant frequented by its founders. To get a sense of that founding, read these excellent recollections by Tom Jennings, whose contributions include the seminal zine Homocore, the seminal networking protocol Fidonet, and the seminal third-party PC ROM, whence came Dell, Gateway, Compaq, and every other "PC clone" company.

The first installment describes how an informal co-op to network a few friends turned into a business almost by accident, with thousands of dollars flowing in and out of Jennings' bank account:

https://www.sensitiveresearch.com/Archive/TLG/TLG.html

And it describes how that ISP set a standard for neutrality, boldly declaring that "TLGnet exercises no control whatsoever over the content of the information." They introduced an idea of radical transparency, documenting their router configurations and other technical details and making them available to the public. They hired unskilled punk and queer kids from their communities and trained them to operate the network equipment they'd invented, customized or improvised.

In part two, Jennings talks about the evolution of TLG's radical business-plan: to offer unrestricted service, encouraging their customers to resell that service to people in their communities, having no lock-in, unbundling extra services including installation charges – the whole anti-enshittification enchilada:

https://www.sensitiveresearch.com/Archive/TLG/

I love Jennings and his work. I even gave him a little cameo in Picks and Shovels, the third Martin Hench novel, which will be out next winter. He's as lyrical a writer about technology as you could ask for, and he's also a brilliant engineer and thinker.

The Little Garden's founders and early power-users have all fleshed out Jennings' account of the birth of ISPs. Writing on his blog, David "DSHR" Rosenthal rounds up other histories from the likes of EFF co-founder John Gilmore and Tim Pozar:

https://blog.dshr.org/2024/04/the-little-garden.html

Rosenthal describes some of the more exotic shenanigans TLG got up to in order to do end-runs around the Bell system's onerous policies, hacking in the purest sense of the word, for example, by daisy-chaining together modems in regions with free local calling and then making "permanent local calls," with the modems staying online 24/7.

Enshittification came to the ISP business early and hit it hard. The cartel that controls your access to the internet today is a billion light-years away from the principled technologists who invented the industry with an ethos of care, access and fairness. Today's ISPs are bitterly opposed to Net Neutrality, the straightforward proposition that if you request some data, your ISP should send it to you as quickly and reliably as it can.

Instead, ISPs want to offer "slow-lanes" where they will relegate the whole internet, except for those companies that bribe the ISP to be delivered at normal speed. ISPs have a laughably transparent way of describing this: they say that they're allowing services to pay for "fast lanes" with priority access. This is the same as the giant grocery store that charges you extra unless you surrender your privacy with a "loyalty card" – and then says that they're offering a "discount" for loyal customers, rather than charging a premium to customers who don't want to be spied on.

The American business lobby loves this arrangement, and hates Net Neutrality. Having monopolized every sector of our economy, they are extremely fond of "winner take all" dynamics, and that's what a non-neutral ISP delivers: the biggest services with the deepest pockets get the most reliable delivery, which means that smaller services don't just have to be better than the big guys, they also have to be able to outbid them for "priority carriage."

If everything you get from your ISP is slow and janky, except for the dominant services, then the dominant services can skimp on quality and pocket the difference. That's the goal of every monopolist – not just to be too big to fail, but also too big to care.

Under the Trump administration, FCC chair Ajit Pai dismantled the Net Neutrality rule, colluding with American big business to rig the process. They accepted millions of obviously fake anti-Net Neutrality comments (one million identical comments from @pornhub.com addresses, comments from dead people, comments from sitting US Senators who support Net Neutrality) and declared open season on American internet users:

https://ag.ny.gov/press-release/2021/attorney-general-james-issues-report-detailing-millions-fake-comments-revealing

Now, Biden's FCC is set to reinstate Net Neutrality – but with a "compromise" that will make mobile internet (which nearly all of use sometimes, and the poorest of us are reliant on) a swamp of anticompetitive practices:

https://cyberlaw.stanford.edu/blog/2024/04/harmful-5g-fast-lanes-are-coming-fcc-needs-stop-them

Under the proposed rule, mobile carriers will be able to put traffic to and from apps in the slow lane, and then extort bribes from preferred apps for normal speed and delivery. They'll rely on parts of the 5G standard to pull off this trick.

The ISP cartel and the FCC insist that this is fine because web traffic won't be degraded, but of course, every service is hellbent on pushing you into using apps instead of the web. That's because the web is an open platform, which means you can install ad- and privacy-blockers. More than half of web users have installed a blocker, making it the largest boycott in human history:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

But reverse-engineering and modding an app is a legal minefield. Just removing the encryption from an app can trigger criminal penalties under Section 1201 of the DMCA, carrying a five-year prison sentence and a $500k fine. An app is just a web-page skinned in enough IP that it's a felony to mod it.

Apps are enshittification's vanguard, and the fact that the FCC has found a way to make them even worse is perversely impressive. They're voting on this on April 25, and they have until April 24 to fix this. They should. They really should:

https://docs.fcc.gov/public/attachments/DOC-401676A1.pdf

In a just world, cheating ripoff ISPs would the top tech policy story. The operational practices of ISPs effect every single one us. We literally can't talk about tech policy without ISPs in the middle. But Net Neutrality is an also-ran in tech policy discourse, while AI – ugh ugh ugh – is the thing none of us can shut up about.

This, despite the fact that the most consequential AI applications sum up to serving as a kind of moral crumple-zone for shitty business practices. The point of AI isn't to replace customer service and other low-paid workers who have taken to demanding higher wages and better conditions – it's to fire those workers and replace them with chatbots that can't do their jobs. An AI salesdroid can't sell your boss a bot that can replace you, but they don't need to. They only have to convince your boss that the bot can do your job, even if it can't.

SF writer Karl Schroeder is one of the rare sf practitioners who grapples seriously with the future, a "strategic foresight" guy who somehow skirts the bullshit that is the field's hallmark:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/07/the-gernsback-continuum/#wheres-my-jetpack

Writing on his blog, Schroeder describes the AI debates roiling the Association of Professional Futurists, and how it's sucking him into being an unwilling participant in the AI hype cycle:

https://kschroeder.substack.com/p/dragged-into-the-ai-hype-cycle

Schroeder's piece is a thoughtful meditation on the relationship of SF's thought-experiments and parables about AI to the promises of AI hucksters, who promise that a) "general artificial intelligence" is just around the corner and that b) it will be worth trillions of dollars.

Schroeder – like other sf writers including Ted Chiang and Charlie Stross (and me) – comes to the conclusion that AI panic isn't about AI, it's about power. The artificial life-form devouring the planet and murdering our species is the limited liability corporation, and its substrate isn't silicon, it's us, human bodies:

What’s lying underneath all our anxieties about AGI is an anxiety that has nothing to do with Artificial Intelligence. Instead, it’s a manifestation of our growing awareness that our world is being stolen from under us. Last year’s estimate put the amount of wealth currently being transferred from the people who made it to an idle billionaire class at $5.2 trillion. Artificial General Intelligence whose environment is the server farms and sweatshops of this class is frightening only because of its capacity to accelerate this greatest of all heists.

After all, the business-case for AI is so very thin that the industry can only survive on a torrent of hype and nonsense – like claims that Amazon's "Grab and Go" stores used "AI" to monitor shoppers and automatically bill them for their purchases. In reality, the stores used thousands of low-paid Indian workers to monitor cameras and manually charge your card. This happens so often that Indian technologists joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Isn't it funny how all the really promising AI applications are in domains that most of us aren't qualified to assess? Like the claim that Google's AI was producing millions of novel materials that will shortly revolutionize all forms of production, from construction to electronics to medical implants:

https://deepmind.google/discover/blog/millions-of-new-materials-discovered-with-deep-learning/

That's what Google's press-release claimed, anyway. But when two groups of experts actually pulled a representative sample of these "new materials" from the Deep Mind database, they found that none of these materials qualified as "credible, useful and novel":

https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/acs.chemmater.4c00643

Writing about the researchers' findings for 404 Media, Jason Koebler cites Berkeley researchers who concluded that "no new materials have been discovered":

https://www.404media.co/google-says-it-discovered-millions-of-new-materials-with-ai-human-researchers/

The researchers say that AI data-mining for new materials is promising, but falls well short of Google's claim to be so transformative that it constitutes the "equivalent to nearly 800 years’ worth of knowledge" and "an order-of-magnitude expansion in stable materials known to humanity."

AI hype keeps the bubble inflating, and for so long as it keeps blowing up, all those investors who've sunk their money into AI can tell themselves that they're rich. This is the essence of "a bezzle": "The magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

Among the best debezzlers of AI are the Princeton Center for Information Technology Policy's Arvind Narayanan and Sayash Kapoor, who edit the "AI Snake Oil" blog. Now, they've sold a book with the same title:

https://www.aisnakeoil.com/p/ai-snake-oil-is-now-available-to

Obviously, books move a lot more slowly than blogs, and so Narayanan and Kapoor say their book will focus on the timeless elements of identifying and understanding AI snake oil:

In the book, we explain the crucial differences between types of AI, why people, companies, and governments are falling for AI snake oil, why AI can’t fix social media, and why we should be far more worried about what people will do with AI than about anything AI will do on its own. While generative AI is what drives press, predictive AI used in criminal justice, finance, healthcare, and other domains remains far more consequential in people’s lives. We discuss in depth how predictive AI can go wrong. We also warn of the dangers of a world where AI continues to be controlled by largely unaccountable big tech companies.

The book's out in September and it's up for pre-order now:

https://bookshop.org/p/books/ai-snake-oil-what-artificial-intelligence-can-do-what-it-can-t-and-how-to-tell-the-difference-arvind-narayanan/21324674

One of the weirder and worst side-effects of the AI hype bubble is that it has revived the belief that it's somehow possible for giant platforms to monitor all their users' speech and remove "harmful" speech. We've tried this for years, and when humans do it, it always ends with disfavored groups being censored, while dedicated trolls, harassers and monsters evade punishment:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/como-is-infosec/

AI hype has led policy-makers to believe that we can deputize online services to spy on all their customers and block the bad ones without falling into this trap. Canada is on the verge of adopting Bill C-63, a "harmful content" regulation modeled on examples from the UK and Australia.

Writing on his blog, Canadian lawyer/activist/journalist Dimitri Lascaris describes the dire speech implications for C-63:

https://dimitrilascaris.org/2024/04/08/trudeaus-online-harms-bill-threatens-free-speech/

It's an excellent legal breakdown of the bill's provisions, but also a excellent analysis of how those provisions are likely to play out in the lives of Canadians, especially those advocating against genocide and taking other positions the that oppose the agenda of the government of the day.

Even if you like the Trudeau government and its policies, these powers will accrue to every Canadian government, including the presumptive (and inevitably, totally unhinged) near-future Conservative majority government of Pierre Poilievre.

It's been ten years since Martin Gilens and Benjamin I Page published their paper that concluded that governments make policies that are popular among elites, no matter how unpopular they are among the public:

https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/perspectives-on-politics/article/testing-theories-of-american-politics-elites-interest-groups-and-average-citizens/62327F513959D0A304D4893B382B992B

Now, this is obviously depressing, but when you see it in action, it's kind of wild. The Biden administration has declared war on junk fees, from "resort fees" charged by hotels to the dozens of line-items added to your plane ticket, rental car, or even your rent check. In response, Republican politicians are climbing to their rear haunches and, using their actual human mouths, defending junk fees:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-04-12-republicans-objectively-pro-junk-fee/

Congressional Republicans are hell-bent on destroying the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau's $8 cap on credit-card late-fees. Trump's presumptive running-mate Tim Scott is making this a campaign plank: "Vote for me and I will protect your credit-card company's right to screw you on fees!" He boasts about the lobbyists who asked him to take this position: champions of the public interest from the Consumer Bankers Association to the US Chamber of Commerce.

Banks stand to lose $10b/year from this rule (which means Americans stand to gain $10b/year from this rule). What's more, Scott's attempt to kill the rule is doomed to fail – there's just no procedural way it will fly. As David Dayen writes, "Not only does this vote put Republicans on the spot over junk fees, it’s a doomed vote, completely initiated by their own possible VP nominee."

This is an hilarious own-goal, one that only brings attention to a largely ignored – but extremely good – aspect of the Biden administration. As Adam Green of Bold Progressives told Dayen, "What’s been missing is opponents smoking themselves out and raising the volume of this fight so the public knows who is on their side."

The CFPB is a major bright spot in the Biden administration's record. They're doing all kind of innovative things, like making it easy for you to figure out which bank will give you the best deal and then letting you transfer your account and all its associated data, records and payments with a single click:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

And now, CFPB chair Rohit Chopra has given a speech laying out the agency's plan to outlaw data-brokers:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/prepared-remarks-of-cfpb-director-rohit-chopra-at-the-white-house-on-data-protection-and-national-security/

Yes, this is some good news! There is, in fact, good news in the world, bright spots amidst all the misery and terror. One of those bright spots? Labor.

Unions are back, baby. Not only do the vast majority of Americans favor unions, not only are new shops being unionized at rates not seen in generations, but also the largest unions are undergoing revolutions, with control being wrestled away from corrupt union bosses and given to the rank-and-file.

Many of us have heard about the high-profile victories to take back the UAW and Teamsters, but I hadn't heard about the internal struggles at the United Food and Commercial Workers, not until I read Hamilton Nolan's gripping account for In These Times:

https://inthesetimes.com/article/revolt-aisle-5-ufcw-grocery-workers-union

Nolan profiles Faye Guenther, president of UFCW Local 3000 and her successful and effective fight to bring a militant spirit back to the union, which represents a million grocery workers. Nolan describes the fight as "every bit as dramatic as any episode of Game of Thrones," and he's not wrong. This is an inspiring tale of working people taking power away from scumbag monopoly bosses and sellout fatcat leaders – and, in so doing, creating a institution that gets better wages, better working conditions, and a better economy, by helping to block giant grocery mergers like Kroger/Albertsons.

I like to end these linkdumps on an up note, so it feels weird to be closing out with an obituary, but I'd argue that any celebration of the long life and many accomplishments of my friend and mentor Anne Innis Dagg is an "up note."

I last wrote about Anne in 2020, on the release of a documentary about her work, "The Woman Who Loved Giraffes":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/19/pluralist-19-feb-2020/#annedagg

As you might have guessed from the title of that doc, Anne was a biologist. She was the first woman scientist to do field-work on giraffes, and that work was so brilliant and fascinating that it kicked off the modern field of giraffology, which remains a woman-dominated specialty thanks to her tireless mentoring and support for the scientists that followed her.

Anne was also the world's most fearsome slayer of junk-science "evolutionary psychology," in which "scientists" invent unfalsifiable just-so stories that prove that some odious human characteristic is actually "natural" because it can be found somewhere in the animal kingdom (i.e., "Darling, please, it's not my fault that I'm fucking my grad students, it's the bonobos!").

Anne wrote a classic – and sadly out of print – book about this that I absolutely adore, not least for having one of the best titles I've ever encountered: "Love of Shopping" Is Not a Gene:

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/11/04/love-of-shopping-is-not-a-gene-exposing-junk-science-and-ideology-in-darwinian-psychology/

Anne was my advisor at the University of Waterloo, an institution that denied her tenure for fifty years, despite a brilliant academic career that rivaled that of her storied father, Harold Innis ("the thinking person's Marshall McLuhan"). The fact that Waterloo never recognized Anne is doubly shameful when you consider that she was awarded the Order of Canada:

https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/queen-of-giraffes-among-new-order-of-canada-recipients-with-global-influence

Anne lived a brilliant live, struggling through adversity, never compromising on her principles, inspiring a vast number of students and colleagues. She lived to ninety one, and died earlier this month. Her ashes will be spread "on the breeding grounds of her beloved giraffes" in South Africa this summer:

https://obituaries.therecord.com/obituary/anne-innis-dagg-1089534658

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/13/goulash/#material-misstatement

Image: Valeva1010 https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hungarian_Goulash_Recipe.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[myx-on-earth]

Content Warning: Landfall Game's April Fools Triumph

For the Content!

It would seem that an April Fools joke of a game has resulted in overnight indie success. Landfall Games, a beloved indie game studio, has a yearly April Fools tradition they call “Landfall Day”, where their devs put together essentially a parody of whatever game is popular at the time. They’ve parodied everything from DayZ to battle royales (Twice, with Totally Accurate Battlegrounds and Knightfall), and this year it would seem it’s Lethal Company’s turn.

Lethal Company is a game known for silly co-op shenanigans that seem to instantly translate into YouTube content- and Content Warning takes that idea and turns it up to 11, making being an influencer a part of the game mechanics. You and a group of friends take a diving bell to “The Old World”, a spooky map filled with monsters and traps entirely for the sake of internet entertainment value. With a single camera and 90 seconds of film, your group has to make the spookiest, funniest video possible- because your only source of income is Spooktube, and that revenue doesn’t come easily.

It's such a brilliant parody of both the horror genre Lethal Company tapped into and the loop of content creation in the internet age that it, somehow, wraps around to being an excellent game in of itself, though Landfall is no stranger to finding gold through satire. Previously, their first battle royale parody (Totally Accurate Battlegrounds, a riff on PUBG) found some success, enough that Landfall turned it into a full venture. It’s not as popular nowadays, but it IS legitimately good- and Content Warning seems to be turning out the same way with its initial popularity and engaging premise.

Typical Content Warning video result, featuring myself, @thatpocketninja, @squiddskipp, and a third friend who requested to remain anonymous

In the space of video game development, April Fools seems to be not so much a “joke” day, but a day that allows ideas to be thrown around that might not otherwise have been considered, which can lead to majorly creative leaps of faith. With examples like the Yakuza series’ pivot to turn-based combat, Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon’s continued success in the midst of a floundering Ubisoft, and even Lilith Walther’s upcoming definitely-not-Bloodborne Kart (now known as Nightmare Kart), the idea of “joke turned legitimate gamedev venture” isn’t exactly new.

I actually had the pleasure of exchanging emails with Hanna Fogelberg (@thebirdmountain on Twitter), Landfall's Head of Community, who provided some insight into Content Warning’s development and the overwhelming response in the interview below.

1. What's it like to go to bed seeing some success, then waking up to find your joke game is a viral hit? Did you expect this at all, given the surprising amount of polish it has?

"We couldn't sleep to tell you the truth! Even if the team said good night at about 2am we kept texting the player numbers to each other throughout the night, we were very wired! We always knew there was the potential of the game going really well, there's something about the design and shareability of the videos you make that we knew could hit it big but it's still surprising it went THIS well."

2. How long did it take to develop Content Warning?

"Content Warning was made in about six weeks of active game development, but the idea came to us back in December!"

3. What were your main inspirations for the game? (Beyond Lethal Company, of course)

“Lethal Company and similar games were an obvious reference for the gameplay loop, we love that game! That said, what was most interesting to us was the core of the game - the filming and video creation. We were inspired by YouTubers and influencer culture, there's something interesting in people risking life and limb for content that we wanted to play off of. 

Other than that, the vibes of The Older World were inspired by Junji Ito and a specific H.R Giger painting while The Over World references the Swedish children's book Pettson och Findus.”

4. How experienced was the dev team?

“We're pretty experienced, the Landfall team has been making games for over 10 years with previous releases being Totally Accurate Battle Simulator, Stick Fight: The Game, Clustertruck and Rounds to mention a few.”

5. How does this experience compare to the last semi-viral success Landfall had with a Landfall Day game? (TABG)

“This game outdid TABG in player numbers several times over! So it's hard to compare, this is by far our most viral hit to date.” 6. Any plans for the future of the game? Or just basic bug fixes and some more content? 

“We will see! Currently, we're focusing on fixing bigger bugs and other issues but we already have some new content planned. We're kind of playing it by ear at this point, it all depends on how things go in the coming weeks.”

Some may attribute Content Warning’s success to multiple factors- the 24 hour free period, how it riffs on Lethal Company and the tropes it already employs, or even that it was “designed to go viral”- but you can’t deny that, even as an iterative piece, it still manages to find its own identity and already seems to have captured the content creation hearts of everyone who gives it a chance. Games like this, that aren’t reliant on micro transactions and are buoyed by the PEOPLE you play with, rather than the money that one must spend on it, are the hope- and, hopefully, the future- of the video games industry. You can find Content Warning (No longer free, but still very cheap!) at the link below: https://store.steampowered.com/app/2881650/Content_Warning/

[leoprincess777]

DHANISHTA NAKSHATRA

23º 20’ Capricorn – 6º 40’ Aquarius “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.” The Dolphin: Alpha Delphini, Beta Delphini, Delta Delphini, Gamma Delphini Ruled by Mars Star of Symphony. Power to give abundance and fame. Symbols: empty drum, an hourglass, bells and bulbs.

Dhanishta is like a death of the inner child. Its essentially inert like sand, of coal or oil. Even the system is a dead thing unless the people actual show up to support it. The death of the spirit begins in Dhanishta and is completed in Purvabhadrapada. The machine  is just a dead thing. There is a suffering here as one is constantly striving to stay ahead of the curve.

Struggles of being controlled by other people, feelings of emptiness and superficiality. They devote themselves to a purpose or a person to deal with emptiness.

As it is within Dhanishta's power to give fame, they enjoy popularity and are often local celebrities. If well placed, they have a good reputation and are loved by people. They tend to mask their inner struggles with a bubbly persona, become an entertainer for other people, play the jester (performative) and seek out external stimuli as a way to fill the emptiness.

Major karma with marriage. Ashlesha is direct across so they often get into manipulative relationships do things they don’t want to do. They display big devotion towards their spouse and are service orianted, however they can get manipulative and use marriage as a means to an end. Often as a result, they are prone to getting controlled by their spouse. They enjoy material comforts.

Planets here are more likely to have feminine characteristics. It may also be seen that women with this placement have a somewhat easier time with the energies of this nakshatra.

Rakshasa: Belonging to the clan of the demons. Less practical, more hedonistic, often many ups and downs in life as the guru of the demons has the power to raise from the dead. Rebirth, transformation, redemption are all part of the system. Cyclical sense of time; mystical sense of reality. Marriage matching with another Rakshasa is best.

Dhanishta's stars form the diamond shaped Delphini constellation. Dolphin’s are unique creatures thought to be even more intelligent than human’s, and with that intelligence comes a childlike nature, playfulness, understanding, and selfless nature. They have a unique way using sonar & echolocation for communication, navigation and understanding the world around them. They are friendly, curious, peaceful, carefree creatures who live in harmony with humans as well as most other creatures of the sea. But they are also fearless in the face of predators and will sacrifice themselves to protect the pod rather than show any fear.

The Vasus such as Agni (fire), Vayu (wind), etc helps lord Indra in his fight with the demons and hence this nakshatra can also indicate some type of fight, competition, and competitiveness in a person’s life. Dhanishtha is also linked with land, real estate and may attain multiple properties. Suitable for real estate business.

Dhanishtas should keep musical insturments in their house as a remedial act and practice performance arts, music, communication and diplomacy.

"Most scientists and historians are born in Dhanishta. Since there is an inherent talent of keeping secrets, you are quite suitable for secret service, private secretaries to senior executives. Whatever may be your academic background, your intelligence is beyond question. In argument you are much ahead of others. Lawyers profession is excellent for you. From the 24th year onward will show progress in the earning field. Any improvement in the financial field will be only after marriage."

Shil-Ponde Female with Dhanishta Ascendant: “This is a talkative and interesting person, particularly successful in lecturing and debating. She is capable of writing mystic novels and is good at story telling. She will be happy in domestic life. She loves nice dresses, especially blue, pink, and purple, and likes curios and antiques.”

pada 2 (virgo): They can do very well in public service, administration, communications, or managing public affairs. They can be very good at the rhetorical, persuasive side or languages, marketing, and communications.

[bullet-prooflove]

Back In Town: O.A. Zidan x Reader

Tagging: @trublu2u @mrspeacem1nusone @greenies-green @rosaliedepp @whateversomethingbruh @anime-weeb-4-life @daydreaming-belle @burningpeachpuppy @scarlettsakura @brownskinbaby22 @@divergent146 @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

It’s been three years since Omar laid eyes on you, since the day he dropped you off at JFK airport.  You’d had to catch a flight back to Delaware in order to care for your father. He’s thought about you often since then, wondering what you’re up to, how you’re doing.

When he sees you again at a crime scene in Brooklyn, he can’t believe it. He had no idea you were back in New York. The Human Trafficking Task Force operates out of their Brooklyn-Queens residency, they’ve been called in because Omar’s case has developed into something unexpected. Back in the day that’s where you’d been assigned, it looks like you’ve returned to the position.

For a moment it feels like the world stands still. Your eyes meet and it’s like the past three years haven’t happened. It comes back in a rush, all of those emotions chasing through his body, His feelings haven’t changed, not really, he’s still as in love with you as he was the day he dropped you off at the airport.

You don’t get a chance to talk, you’re busy interviewing the victims, reallocating them to the relevant resources. Part of your work is to ensure that each victim receives the support they deserve, in both an immediate and long-term capacity. This is the thing that you excel at, victim support. You have a dedication that goes far beyond the normal scope of any investigator he’s ever met. Your empathy is one of the reasons he fell in love with you in the first place, your ability to instil a sense of peace in the chaos that surrounds you.

It becomes a joint operation; you end up in the JOC discussing the details of the trafficking ring you’ve been investigating over the past few months. The story you tell is harrowing, he can tell it’s made it’s mark on you, you wear it on your features as you describe the conditions that you found the girls in, some as young as eleven. It sickens every single one of them.

He catches up with you in the breakroom afterwards. You’re trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you stir four sugars into your coffee mug.  You usually take one.

“Burning the candle at both ends?” He asks as he picks up his own mug and decants coffee and hot water into it.

“I’ve been on this case for the past thirty-six hours.” You tell him, rubbing the space between your eyes. “Your crime scene wasn’t the first one I’ve been to in the past few days.”

It goes like that with human trafficking. If the smugglers get even the faintest inclination that they’ve been compromised, they move the stock or dispose of it.

“I didn’t know you were back in the city.” He says quietly as he stirs in the creamer.

You lean against the worksurface alongside of him, your shoulder brushing against his.

“I got back a few months ago.” You say as you raise your mug to your lips. “I kept meaning to reach out, but things got a little busy.”

Omar knows how it works. You’d come back to New York, hit the ground running. He knows you would have wanted to move on after Delaware, immerse yourself in the work. It’s how you dealt with a lot of things.

“I’m sorry about your dad.” He says softly, studying your features.

He sees the sadness in you, you’ve done well to hide it but the grief it clings to you like a well-worn coat.

“We had a good couple of years together, but he declined quickly towards the end.” You shake your head as you clasp the mug to your chest. “It’s the nature of it you know?”

He does know, his uncle had died of the same thing not long before he met you. He’d seen the toll the treatment took, how quickly things can change and go downhill. That’s why he never begrudged you leaving, he wanted you to have as much time with your father as you possibly could. His hand takes yours as he meets your eyes.

“I do know.” He says, his thumb tracing over the hollow of your wrist.

You give him a watery smile, squeezing his fingers before the door to the break room opens and you release it.

You’re exhausted by the time case is over, it’s been over seventy-two hours and you’re running on fumes. He can see the weariness in you, it’s in the way you rub at your red-rimmed eyes, the single tap pf your finger on the keyboard as scroll through the report checking for errors. He knows what the aftermath is like, when the adrenaline leaks out of your body and the fatigue crashes in on you.

“Let me take you home.” He says, his hand coming to rest upon your shoulder, his thumb chasing over the nape of your neck. He massages that tense little knot between your shoulder blades, and you make that noise, the one he still hears in his dreams. “You’re too tired to drive.”

He walks you to your apartment door, fingertips brushing yours as you walk side by side. That connection between the two of you, it’s still there thrumming just under the surface, the way it always has been.

When he steps into your apartment, he can’t help but smile. The essence of your personality emanates from the walls, his fingertips run over the blanket that’s folded over the back of the couch, the one your mother quilted. He remembers it draped over the bottom of your bed in the last place.

“Come to bed with me.” You say softly, your fingers entwining with his. “I know you’re tired too.”

There’s such tenderness in his gaze as you undress each other, his warm hands drawing the fabric from your form. His thumb chases over the line of your jaw.

“All I want to do is to climb into bed and hold you.” He whispers as he looks into your eyes. “The way that we used to.”

“I want that too.” You tell him.

When you get into bed, Omar wraps his arms around you and draws you close. He buries his face into the curve of your throat, inhaling the scent of nectarines that clings to your skin.

“I’ve missed this.” He whispers as his lips ghost across your ear. “I missed you.”

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