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#food pornography
secondwheel · 4 months
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I think we are all able to relate lol
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bryonyashaw · 1 year
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𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙋𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙝 & 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙮
𝗜𝗻𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀:
• Honey Mustard Sausages
• 300g Kale
• 50g Red Wine Stock Paste
• Splash Balsamic Vinegar
• 2 Red Onions
• 1 Sweet Potato
• 1 Baking Potato
• ½ tspSugar
• 100 mls water for the Gravy
𝗠𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗱:
1) Preheat your oven to 200°C and put a large saucepan of water with a 0.5 tsp of salt on to boil for the potatoes.
2) Put the sausages on a baking tray. Roast on the top shelf of your oven for 20-25 mins, turn halfway through cooking. The sausages are cooked when they are no longer pink in the middle.
3) Meanwhile, peel and chop the sweet potato and white potato into 2cm chunks. Add to the boiling water and simmer until tender, 15-20 mins. Tip: The potatoes are ready when you can easily poke a fork through them
4) Next up - halve, peel and thinly slice the red onion. Heat a splash of oil in a frying pan on medium heat. Add the onion and cook until soft, 8-10 mins, stirring often. Add the balsamic vinegar and cook for 2 mins.
5) Once the potatoes are cooked, drain them in a colander set over a bowl or jug to retain the water so you can use it for the gravy. Return the potato to the original saucepan, add a knob of butter (if you have some) and mash until smooth. Season to taste with salt and pepper, then cover with a lid to keep warm.
6) Add the reserved potato water (see ingredients for amount) to the pan with the onion along with the red wine stock pot and splash of apple cider Vinegar.
Tip: If you have gravy granules you can always just use that! Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and simmer until your gravy has reduced and thickened, 5-6 mins. Simply add a splash more water if it gets too thick. If you are feeling decadent, add a knob of butter.
7) When your sausages have about 15 mins left in the oven, add the kale to a pan of boiling water to cook (I use a microwave steamer as meant to retain more nutrients) season with salt and pepper when done.
8) Serve the honey mustard sausages on top of a large helping of mash, with some red onion gravy spooned over and kale on the side! I added some kale into my mash for vibes 🤌
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cryptotheism · 5 months
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I am fascinated by what makes something pornography. I think it can be defined by a core of fantasy. There is a gravity to it. As if everything in the story exists only so this particular scenario can happen.
Pornography breaks down when you extend it's borders. The eroticism of the Big Office Fuck N Suck starts to fade when you imagine everyone calmly going back to work. The pizza boy will get fired if he doesn't get back to work, and the nice young woman did in fact order that pizza because she is hungry.
Or maybe every stop on that pizza boys route is another Horny Milf or Hot Dad. Maybe nobody ever has money for pizza, and being a pizza guy requires significant athleticism. But if life in the Porn Universe is just an endless series of contrived happenstances, who grows all the food? Someone has to actually make the damn pizzas. Someone has to grow the flour for the dough, and drive the trains, and work the mills. Perhaps at its most extreme, the causality of the Porn Universe simply cannot proceed until someone busts a nut.
But in reality, people have wild encounters. There are office trysts and one-in-a-million flings with beautiful strangers. I am sure that every hour of every day, someone stumbles their way into a sexual mishap that would be panned as unrealistic if it were written for smut.
But then where's the line? When does a narrative become pornographic?
I think it has less to do with sex than it does with narrative contrivance. I think many video games are pornographic in this sense. When Raiden slices a missile in half with a glowing katana, the contrivance of the Rule-of-cool swallows itself, attains a narrative gravity that the tone cannot ever hope to escape.
I think the realm of pornography begins once questions of why become secondary. Why did he cut that missile in half? Because it's badass. Why did he get his dick out? Because it's hot. But more importantly, those things happen because the laws of the narrative demand it. It could not happen any other way. Raiden must cut the missile in half. She has to get her tits out. Otherwise, the story can't happen. But it does happen, and it fucks.
I think Pornography happens when the rules break down, when the ridiculous becomes not only necessary, but exalted.
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whimsical-hysteric · 1 year
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oooooouuugh
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zooophagous · 7 months
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I like how the two discussions I see about AI imagery is like "everything can be art and if you say AI art isn't art you're a gatekeeping loser also fuck copyright" and the other half of it is "these fourteen year old girls got a bunch of pornography generated of them and distributed to their schools and also there's books about food on Amazon that were written by chat GPT that will literally poison and kill you all the way to death if you listen to them"
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suiana · 10 months
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✎ yandere! loser headcanons . . .
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✎ warnings . . .
― stalking, manipulation, delusional yandere, mentions of p0rn, slight nsfw, stockholm syndrome (?) etc.
(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)
✎ yandere! loser who's basically a shut in, rarely coming out of his apartment except for compulsory lessons at university. he's a huge loser, shit talking others during games, messy apartment, dark eye bag circles, always ordering delivery for his food... he's practically the embodiment of the word loser! if it weren't for his rich parents he would not survived a day past his 18th birthday.
✎ yandere! loser who sees you as his salvation, the only hope in his dark life. through your streams he found purpose in his life - to be with you. and when he found out you went to the same university as him? he just knew that you were meant to be with him! why else would you speak his username so lovingly every time he donates to you?
✎ yandere! loser who's obviously a big virgin. I mean, what would you expect from a guy who hasn't held a girl's hand since he was 5? plus he doesn't even come out of his apartment! the most experience he has is from the pornography he used to watch. don't worry! he doesn't watch it anymore! because now all he has to do is imagine you sucking him off and he cums instantly. he's a true loser. but he's your loser, yours! :D
✎ yandere! loser who stalks you both online and physically. at this point he knows more about you than all of your friends do, maybe even you yourself! he's also the type of guy to like something you posted 69 weeks ago just because he liked how you looked in it. but does one post from long ago matter when he literally spam likes everything you post?
✎ yandere! loser who tries to rizz you up with tips and tricks he read online from sites like Reddit. he read all those success stories in the Reddit comment section so surely it must work out for him too, right?! wrong. because when he tried to pin you against a wall and call you 'baby', you only snorted in laughter, calling him funny and walking off with your friends. why didn't it work?! it was from user @/masterrizzler3000 on Reddit so it should've worked! he's sad now :(
✎ yandere! loser who isn't actually that bad looking. if he put in some more effort into his appearance he would've been a solid 10/10 in your opinion. but unfortunately he doesn't and that brings him to a 6.5/10. don't worry, there's something about his loser self that makes him cuter :) and that's when you decided to give him a chance and go out with him. best worst mistake of your life.
✎ yandere! loser who's actually a pretty good gaslighter and manipulator, so good that you actually agreed to date him. though he isn't aware that he's actually manipulating you so to him, you're falling for him because you genuinely love him. looks like religiously watching monster and death note worked for him. and that kids, is the story of how I (21m) landed myself a solid 100/10 with my loser self!!! -him, probably.
✎ yandere! loser who believes wholeheartedly that you and him are meant to be. sure, you may be a little more lifeless than you used to be, he's not sure why, but you love him! you tell him that every morning after you wake up in his bed! the soft 'i love you's' and 'im yours' from your sweet mouth are practically proof that you love him too, right?! fret not, for he loves you too ♡
✎ "please! I'll die without you-! you... you won't let that happen, would you? haha... of course you won't. you love me after all ♡"
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secondwheel · 7 months
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*half a teaspoon of olive oil in the pan*
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fans4wga · 9 months
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SAG-AFTRA Takes Up Bethenny Frankel’s Fight To Unionize Reality Show Contestants & End “Exploitative Practices”
August 10, 2023
"SAG-AFTRA, which covers the hosts but not the contestants on reality TV competition shows, said today that it’s working “toward the protection of the reality performers” in an effort to end “the exploitative practices that have developed in this area” and “to engage in a new path to union coverage.”
“We are tired of studios and production companies trying to circumvent the union in order to exploit the talent that they rely upon to make their product,” the guild said.
The announcement comes after Bethenny Frankel, a former star of The Real Housewives of New York City, suggested that reality performers should go on strike in order to win residuals for their work and to combat abuses in the workplace. Reality show hosts, but not contestants, are covered by the guild’s Network Code, which is not part of its strike against films and scripted TV shows.
“Why isn’t reality TV on strike?” Frankel said in a recent TikTok video. “I got paid $7,250 for my first season of reality TV, and people are still watching those episodes.” Reality stars, she said, “are the stepchildren, the losers, the mules, the pack horses. The ones that the entertainment industry is going to rely on, right now, to carry the water and do the heavy lifting when real stars, real A-list Hollywood is on strike.”
She added, “Reality television exploits affairs, bankruptcy, falling off the wagon, not really having what you say you have, something inappropriate, risking cancellation every single time the camera goes on.”
To address the alleged abuse of reality stars, she’s engaged high-powered attorneys Bryan Freedman and Mark Geragos to investigate the alleged abuse of reality stars.
In a statement today, SAG-AFTRA said that it “has engaged in discussions with Bryan Freedman at the Freedman + Taitelman, LLP law firm who has been retained by Bethenny Frankel around the subject of treatment of reality performers. SAG-AFTRA is the union that represents reality performers. Depending on the structure of the production and the performers involved, we can cover these performers under our Network Code Agreement.
“We stand ready to assist Bethenny Frankel, Bryan Freedman and Mark Geragos along with reality performers and our members in the fight and are tired of studios and production companies trying to circumvent the Union in order to exploit the talent that they rely upon to make their product.
“We encourage any reality performers and/or members to reach out to SAG-AFTRA’s Entertainment Contracts Department so that we may work together toward the protection of the reality performers ending the exploitative practices that have developed in this area and to engage in a new path to union coverage.”
“Please be advised that the day of reckoning has arrived,” Freedman, working with Geragos, said in a letter sent to NBCUniversal on Aug. 3. “While our investigation is still ongoing, we have reason to believe that cast members and crewmembers on NBC reality TV shows have been subjected to disturbing mistreatment by NBCUniversal and/or its employees, contractors, and third-party affiliates.”
Building off Frankel’s union aims, the list of such mistreatment that Freedman lays out includes:
Deliberate attempts to manufacture mental instability by plying cast members with alcohol while depriving them of food and sleep.
Denying mental health treatment to cast members displaying obvious and alarming signs of mental deterioration.
Exploiting minors for uncompensated and sometimes long-term appearances on NBC reality TV shows.
Distributing and/or condoning the distribution of nonconsensual pornography.
Covering up acts of sexual violence.
Refusing to allow cast members the freedom to leave their shows, even under dire circumstances.
In response, an NBCUniversal spokesperson told Deadline that the company is “committed to maintaining a safe and respectful workplace for cast and crew on our reality shows. At the outset, we require our third-party production partners to have appropriate workplace policies and training in place.  If complaints are brought to our attention, we work with our production partners to ensure that timely, appropriate action is or has been taken, including investigations, medical and/or psychological support, and other remedial action that may be warranted such as personnel changes.”
@bethennyfrankel on Tiktok: This is a union. I’ve defined fair & reasonable terms & consider those making $0 on the bachelor to a housewife making millions. This is a 1st pass & how I’d negotiate, w/ my institutional knowledge & wisdom in this industry w/ over a decade on 8 tv, w/ 10 books, 5 podcasts, multiple businesses & what was the fastest growing spirits business in history. I know a contract. Looking into traditional TV residuals is like looking inside “a beautiful mind.” Content used later with no profit sharing & l exploitation of hard working talent is as archaic as calling empowered independent women “housewives,” a term setting back women 100 years then using them for drama.
This is the REALITY RECKONING aka THE REALITY REVOLUTION. The is the new BETHENNY CLAUSE. Reality TV has existed for decades & sustained entertainment during the last strike & exploded. This isn’t for people like me, who have thrived & succeeded and clawed their way to the top despite the odds. This is for the next generation. These are broad stroke terms subject to modification. This fight is just getting started. We’re rogue & nimble & not entangled & unwieldy. The intention here is to affect change, get things done and make history.
I’ve listed some names who have contacted me & want to get involved. People not on this list are Vanderpump rules talent & the Kardashians, ironically the most powerful entities in entertainment right now, with the most leverage. They should fight for others who paved the way & for those after them. Shows like Summer House and others in production should stand down. Viewers should not watch this content. This paves the way for nurses and teachers, essential workers, production members & glam teams that will be inspired to create a model of their own reckoning.
Change takes courage. I’ve alienated this industry & burned bridges with the entire network and streaming community in one fell swoop. This is not for the faint of heart but it’s for the greater good. This is correct. We will be sending these terms by email with the subject line: “Reality Reckoning” starting emails with: imwithbethenny Who’s with me?"
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brayneworms · 3 months
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prompt: l lawliet + food play + pink
wc. 2.8k. gn!reader, foodplay, virgin!l, handjobs, sliiiight come eating, reader is a wet cat in a cardboard box kinda, safe sane and consensual, no real power dynamics.
L contextualises things in the way he sees the world.
Strings of numbers, statistics, behavioural patterns that he's memorised to a 'T' until he can tell guilt from the aversion of an eye or fury from the remnants of nails pressed into the palm of someone's hand. It's why maybe something like sex or desire is a struggle for him. It's not that he doesn't understand it, it's more like he doesn't see the—the need for it, or whatever. You chalk it up to him being extremely busy and also probably totally asexual and don't think about it.
(Don't think about it much.)
It sort of surprises you that it's you he corners with his questions about. Maybe he's more embarrassed than he lets on—as it is, he looks cool as a cucumber save for the faintest shade of pink across his cheekbones. There's no way he would escape a conversation about it from anyone on the squad without a degree of ragging. Misa would squeal like a pig if L dared to broach the topic with her, you're sure. Matsuda would blush bright red and trip over all his words, and Aizawa would probably stare at him like he'd set his firstborn on fire.
And Light is Light. He probably knows little more than L, for all the airs he puts on.
So it's you he comes to. When it first starts, you think it has something to do with a case or lead he's hunting. Tell me, have you had sex before?
Perched like a frog, licking whipped cream off his finger. You don't know if he's doing to be provocative or not; don't know which is worse, that he's aware of what he's doing or not.
"This isn't exactly proper workplace conversation L."
A flicker of a smile. Cheeky, omniscient. "Feel free to report me to HR, in that case."
You do answer—honestly and concisely, if not with a shade of awkwardness. He's essentially your boss. But L seems so far removed from the worlds of sexuality and desire that it seems harmless, occupational, and eventually it stops feeling embarrassing. Out of nowhere—what is the purpose of restrains in an intimate context? Why do you think some people like to feel as though they have no control in the bedroom? Would you say that visual pornography has given watchers unrealistic expectations of actual intercourse?
One night, the two of you alone in front of a big glowing screen, turning to him and asking. "Why do you ask me this stuff, anyway? Is it for a case?"
"No," he says neutrally. A quick glance from his dark eyes you could almost describe as coy. "I'm just... curious."
"Curious," you echo, deadpan. "You?"
"Does that surprise you?" he murmurs. You almost feel that your honest answer—yes—would be insulting now, so instead you just shrug and mumble something incoherent under your breath. "You're not completely wrong. I thought having a better understanding of things like sex and power dynamics would be beneficial in the long run. Most people have a greater knowledge of it than me, which—puts me at a disadvantage." He says these last words with an air of revulsion, as though the very concept of knowing less than someone sours in his mouth, and you chuckle at his childishness.
"That makes sense." You pause. Wonder if you're reading this all wrong, then barrel ahead anyway. "Wouldn't actually experiencing it for yourself lend a better understanding than anything else, though?"
L's eyebrow raises. His smile has vanished, leaving him bug-eyed and unreadable. "What are you suggesting?"
He's not stupid, and you're not subtle. He knows exactly what you were suggesting. The fact that he's trying to get you to go into more detail rather than firing you on the spot is probably a good sign, and further than you expected to get. You squirm in your seat.
"You know. It's like being told about how something feels rather than knowing," you say awkwardly. "I'm just—can I ask—"
"It only seems fair," L says slowly. "After I've been badgering you with my own questions for so long." His chair spins; he rests his wrists on his rucked-up knees, fingers steepled in front of him. "Please."
Hot-faced, you spin your chair aimlessly. "Okay, well, uh—have you? I mean, before?"
L hesitates before he shakes his head, an almost imperceptible twitch that has his dark hair floating. You swallow the sudden large dry lump in your throat.
"Okay. So. Probably somewhere to start," you mumble.
L seems to consider this. "Would you be willing?"
You don't have the right to be surprised, with all the dancing around the subject, but you are, still. You choke on your spit and fly around to look at him, which is a mistake. His gaze is so dark and intense, and you think he can see right through you before you even open your mouth to answer.
"I'm not—" you stammer, with no idea what you're going to say. "I mean—"
"I had assumed you would be," L goes on calmly, but you catch the slight flicker of his eyes, a ghost of uncertainty that makes your chest squeeze. "If I have read your responses incorrectly, though, feel free to forget I asked. I can guarantee no awkwardness tomorrow."
"It's not that," you blurt. L blinks at you, go on. "It's just... do you have any idea what you're, you know. Into? Where to start?"
L's eyes flicker, the barest furrow knitted between his brows. You can tell he hasn't thought too hard about it. "What would you suggest?" he asks, curling his long fingers over his knees.
You swallow. "Well... anything you like the idea of, I guess. Something familiar, to ease you into it."
L's eyes roll over to his desk, where a perfectly glistening slice of strawberry cake waits for him. Pink sponge and halved red berries, topped with pale pink cream. "Familiar," he echoes. "I may have a suggestion."
-
So you feed L a strawberry just to get started.
Hold it up. It's distinctly awkward; L just stares at it for a moment, the berry dusted with frosting that glistens between your fingers. You tell him, "If you're not comfortable with this, sex is probably going to be—"
He leans forward and plucks the fruit from between your fingers; you feel the barest ghosting of teeth, the sweep of his tongue sharp and curious against the pads of your fingers before he leans back again. You watch the motions of his jaw and throat as he chews and swallows. Pins you with his headlamp stare, wide and dark.
You deconstruct the strawberry cake carefully, removing the berries and setting them to the side. Cast a look over at him. "Take off your shirt?"
L twists the hem of this shirt for a few moments before removing it. It feels so strange to see him devoid of clothing, like a knight removing their armour. Pale ribs, pinched waist. He's not whipcord-thin like you had imagined—there's lean muscle packed under the skin, his stomach flat and somewhat soft. It flexes almost nervously when you look at it. He reclines back on his bed without being told, bracing his weight onto his elbows, legs dangling off the side.
"You sure about all this?" you ask, glancing from the smooth planes of his white skin—shit—to the plate of crumbling pink dessert. "Didn't think you'd be into, you know. All the mess."
"I have a shower," L says reflexively.
You take that as permission to approach with the plate. You place the strawberry halves in a red dotted line, starting at his clavicle, watching him shiver and flex at the cold touch. Down—one at the bottom of his ribs, one above his bellybutton, one at his naval just above the low sling of his jeans. He's started to flush, prettily pink down his chest. It makes you slightly dizzy.
"Okay. So. Okay." You try not to feel so nervous, but it's more like you feel out of place, or time, or space. It feels surreal, basically. Standing between L's legs with your fingers stained pink from fruit and frosting. Him looking up at you like that, all big dark round eyes and slightly parted lips. Damn it. You take a deep, steadying breath. "Okay, so, I'll start now if you're okay. And just say if you don't want—if you want to stop, or if you don't like anything, just say, okay?"
"I understand the basic premises of consent, if that's what you're trying to affirm." The words are all L, but there's an element of breathlessness to them.
"Just making sure we're clear," you mutter. You lean forward and smooth a palm over his collarbones. They're sharp, they jut up to meet your hand like cut diamond, and you hear and see his breath hitch, which is slightly intoxicating. His skin is warmer and softer than you thought it would be. You run your hands over his shoulders and neck, which he squirms away from with a wrinkled nose.
"No neck?" you ask.
He shakes his head. So no neck.
Once you're done exploring this part of his body, you lean forward, close your lips around the strawberry and bite the end of it, sinking your teeth into the flesh. Pink juice runs down your chin; L's eyes follow it, transfixed, as you tilt your head forward and push your mouthful against his lips. They part unquestioningly, and you push the strawberry into his mouth with your tongue. Your lips brush together, tantalising and sweet with sugar. A mimic of a kiss, a palimpsest of intimacy. You don't want to overwhelm him, anyway.
This goes on; your hands over his chest next, the soft pectorals. An experimental brush of your thumb over his left nipple that makes his whole body shudder. He's so sensitive, reacting to every prod and touch and tweak with a jerk and a shiver. Gooseflesh blooms up his skin, pebbling his nipples, and when you tweak the other one gently he lets out a choked sound.
Finding the strawberry nestled under his ribs. Taking it between your teeth and passing it to him. His face gets pinker with each one. Stomach, concave, flexing with every hard breath. A ticklish spot over his belly button. Strawberry, bite, pass. The flex of his jaw as he chews.
Fingers over his waist, indenting the skin as much as you dare. You try not to think of how easily he would bruise. Brushing your touch over his lower abdomen makes his breath catch again. You find the strawberry, hold it between your lips. L cranes his neck, searching this time—he thinks he knows the game, has memorised the steps, found the pattern, the sequence. He doesn't know that the best sex is the unpredictable kind. This time, you press your lips against him and when your tongue pushes the strawberry into his mouth it stays there. His lips part, slack against yours, either in shock or inexperience. You allow yourself the briefest twirl of your tongue against his before pulling back with a wet pop.
L stares at you as you retreat. The strawberries leave pale pink residue on his skin. Pulling back fully reveals the hardness between his legs, pushing up against the dark denim of his jeans. He grunts when your eyes land on it, either out of embarrassment or frustration. You swallow and its like sandpaper.
"Still want me to...?"
"I have not changed my mind," he replies, slightly hoarsely and a beat slower than usual. You shrug, smooth your hands over the tent at his crotch, and he whines. It's the most searing noise you've pulled from him yet, and all from some halfhearted palming over the jeans. It sends a thrill zipping through you, hot and addicting. His arms shake with the weight of holding himself up, neck craning to follow as you sink to your knees between his legs.
You unzip him, pop the button, and he groans slightly at the freedom from the constraints of his clothes. He's fully hard, straining against his dark underwear. You experiment, rubbing at the tip, feeling for the wet spot, and he keens and thrashes, losing his stability and crashing to the mattress. He makes a frustrated noise just after, as though cursing himself for his own lack of control.
"That—" he swallows hard, breathes shakily. "That feels..."
Your hand hovers. "Am I stopping?"
"No, I don't..." He scrambles. L scrambles over his words. "Please, continue."
You stroke him over his underwear for a few concentrated minutes, mostly enjoying the way he twitches and huffs and occasionally makes soft, whiny noises, the way he starts to rut his hips against your hand. No technique, no rhythm, just some sort of baseless desire that you find incredibly hot. There's almost a frustration to it that makes you want to laugh—of course there would be nothing more agonising to someone like L than seeing what he wanted so close to him but being unable to accomplish it himself.
When he starts gritting his teeth, you pull his boxers down to his thighs and he makes a choking, embarrassed sound. When you wrap your fingers around his cock for the first time, finding it velvety-soft and leaking, his eyes roll back and his hips arch into the loose wet tunnel of your hand. "Oh," is all he says. Small and soft like he's surprised. His neck twists and his mouth presses into the starched white sheets. "Oh," he says again as your fist moves slowly, stroking with intent, up and down. He's not overly big, fits nicely in your hand, makes swiping over the head where the pre beads with your thumb nice and convenient. And you love the way he shudders and thrashes when you do it.
"How does that feel?" Your voice is lower than you remember it being. L cracks a bleary eye open; his face is flushed bright pink now, a flush that bleeds all the way down his chest, blending in with the strawberry stains.
"It feels," he starts, before his brow pinches. "I—I am not sure how to—how to describe..."
"It's okay," you tell him. His thighs shake, flexing against the edge of the mattress. When he tips his head back the cords in his pretty throat bulge, so biteable. "You can come whenever."
"I wasn't—oh," he gasps, squirming. "I wasn't aware I n-needed your—permission, oh."
"Yeah, well," you say intelligently, a little struck dumb by the sight before you. "Just making sure we're on the same page."
"A-and what page is that?" he pants, thrusting his hips messily into your hand. He's so fucking sensitive that you swear you can see his eyes growing shiny.
"The one where I help you out, so don't be a brat," you murmur. L laughs breathlessly, trying, you think, to summon some retort. You twist your fist around him and it died, half-formed in his brain, his eyes rolling back and fingers flexing hard in the sheets.
After another minute, he reaches out and grabs your wrist hard enough to bruise. He doesn't say it—can't, maybe. But you know. Your pace speeds up just a touch and he honest to god moans, spilling out of him soft and breathy before he comes, streaking over his stomach in pearly arcs. You watch him flinch at the contact, fingers slipping on your wrist. His chest flexes—in, out, in, out.
You collect a big scoop of pink frosting on your finger and dip it in the come starting to cool between his pecs before pressing it to his lips. L's brow wrinkles, startled—but he opens his lips and lets your fingers pass into the hot cavern of his mouth. Like a cat he licks your finger clean, pointed pink tongue prodding with no technique or flourish, just something steadfast, something stubborn.
You do him the dignity of tucking his softened cock back into his underwear and zipping up his jeans. Unsure how to proceed until L sits up rather abruptly. His hair is even more tousled from his tossing and turning as he reaches for a tissue to wipe himself down.
He looks at you. "I understand it's customary to offer some sort of equivalent exchange in these circumstances." A pause whilst he gathers his breath. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm not quite feeling up to the task."
His tone is normal, if a little shaky. You rock back on your heels. "Did you like it?"
L blinks at you. "My curiosity has been sated," he says, carefully. "Yes, I believe I did enjoy it."
Well, that's a relief if nothing else. The pink remnants of the strawberry cake it on the plate; the shade matches his blush.
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pt VI good omens s1e2, a totally all-inclusive summary i remember everything
i don't, that's a lie. i lie like aziraphale, rarely and badly but with great gaslight energy.
alright well let's not dawdle for 6000 years, i'll forget what i DO remember.
An angel named Gabriel who is not Jimbriel yet, so a foetus Jimbriel, gets into Aziraphale's bookstore and yells about pornography to keep humans from following him into Aziraphale's secret back chamber.
What they do there, I do not know. It is up to speculation. They talk and Aziraphale is flustered about Crowley, I think, but that's the whole show so far.
The intro sequence remains strange. Cartoon Aziraphale is an impregnated chicken, cartoon Crowley is the baby daddy.
There are witch hunters and they want to burn Agnes Nutter alive. I don't know who Anges Nutter is yet.
We cut to Agnes Nutter and I know I will never forget her. She is beautiful and a BAMF. A MILF. An absolute bombshell.
The bombshell part is literal. They set her on fire and she explodes, killing all those in a 100 metre radius. I want to be her.
I assume it is a witch thing, but then find out she put bombs under her skirts. I want to be her, but more ardently.
There is a book. She writes prophecies in it.
There are horsemen of the apocalypse, which I forgot was still happening. We are in present day.
War kills everyone. She is pretty. She is not Warlock, the kid whom Aziraphale and Crowley raised.
Famine is a sexy beast, and runs Michelin star restaurants. He likes tiny food. He is developing foodless food.
If there are others, I do not notice. There could be. There really could be. There probably are.
There is a girl who scribbles on the book from earlier. She grows up. I think she is War. I am wrong. This is probably a good time to mention to Tumblr that I have mild issues with facial recognition, which is totally not going to affect my understanding of what is happening at all.
She is named Anathema. That could be someone else. What is real? Not Neil Gaiman.
She finds the Antichrist and the Them, and they are all playing at a witch hunt. The Antichrist does not have an aura. Yellow is fear. Yellow is joy. I lose track of what is happening for several scenes.
Newt is works in an office. There is a power cut. Newt no longer works at an office.
Newt joins a witch hunt.
There is a delivery man. I think he is Newt. I am wrong. His name is something resembling Judy. It is an easy mistake, everyone's reaction to not-Newt-maybe-Judy is the same as that to Newt, deep protective love.
Crowley and Aziraphale steal a Bentley. Find a Bentley? I am unsure. I am too busy looking at Crowley.
Crowley speeds. Crowley likes speeding. They hit a motorbike that has maybe-Anathema. They pick her up and take her to a house somewhere. The Bentley plays Queen music. Everyone is very excited about this. Beepop.
Maybe-Anathema enters the house. This could have been before she finds the Antichrist. But if the show isn't linear I don't have to be either, I decide.
Crowley and Aziraphale panic a lot, but find time to eye each other hungrily and lovingly. They have priorities, and I respect that.
Crowley yells at his plants to grow better. He pretends to kill one of them. I cannot believe I was entirely right about my interpretation of that GIF. I am filled with confused anger. Later I find out that he is projecting how heaven told him he was a disappointment and threw him out. I am no longer angry. I am sad. This is an ongoing thing when it comes to Crowley.
A major plot point is Dog, the best friend of the Antichrist, having a face off with a fat tabby cat. Dog loses. It was doomed from the start.
Aziraphale gaslights gatekeeps and girlbosses. He assures heaven that everything is under control. It is not. That is okay. I think.
Heaven asks about Crowley. Aziraphale gets flustered. This is as per usual and he assures them that he is battling Crowley, who keeps him on his toes. I not-so-privately think that Crowley keeps him on his knees, really.
Things happen. I'm too busy thinking about Aziraphale's puppy eyes. He is a bitchy sweetheart. I love him.
More things happen. I'm too busy thinking about Crowley's sexy hips and shoulders and, well, everything.
The episode ends. I am still thinking about Crowley. I am always thinking about Crowley. Everyone is always thinking about Crowley.
This... this is all I remember. Have it, Tumblr.
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romanreignseater · 9 months
Text
This Is Cinema.
Jey Uso x Black Female Reader
Rating: 18+
Warning: Smut; consensual pornography & rough times 🤫.
“You know what they say about the Bloodline, them boys make CINEMA!!”
A/N: That Jimmy fic is on hold until further notice 😤 (that boy made me so mad). I do have another Jey fic, but this was TOOO good for me to not upload first!! Hope you enjoy 💋!!”
GIF: @jeygif
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Another day of work, another asshole to deal with.
Or so you thought.
Working as “pornstar”, but your preferred term of “adult film star”, was something you didn’t see yourself doing when you were a teen. The idea of getting nude in front of a camera with loads of crew surrounding as you do something that seems so sacred was weird to you back then. But, once college didn’t work out, you had other plans.
One of your homegirls who started off doing porn and soon ventured into the world of OnlyFans gave you the idea to start. And honestly… it was one of the best decisions you’ve made!!
You were soon living lavishly in Tampa, Florida, with $6 million to your name, the most gorgeous mansion, a brand new bright pink Range Rover, the cutest teacup poodle named Rex, food in your fridge, and bills paid. All in under a year.
Regardless of what people may say about you on the internet… sweetheart they were paying your bills.
You were working with some of the best in the industry and millions of views on those videos. Your career seemed to be at its pinnacle, but your manager informed you that there was a group of men starting off in the industry and absolutely taking over. In a little over five months, they were rated the top pornstars in the world.
Hundreds of millions of views on each of their videos and numerous women wanting to start a career just to be able to be near them. Working with them would not only boost your career even further, but to get a chance to fuck a handsome ass Samoan, yes please. In the words of your manager, “We gotta get that dick.”
An interesting choice of words, but you trusted every piece of advice she gave you. Soon, you were on a flight to the ATL to meet up with one of the members of the infamous group.
Doing your research the night prior to your flight, there were three brothers and a cousin. Roman, the cousin, was the oldest and definitely the biggest. A set of twins, Jimmy and Jey, and their younger brother, Solo, who didn’t look so little.
Roman was the one who wasn’t the most booked, as he only worked with the best of the best. Viewers only seeing his work every once in a while. But, when he dropped a video you knew it was gonna be heat. The absolute passion in his strokes and darkness in his eyes made you bite your lip at his raw manly magnitude.
Jimmy was fairly booked, with his whole month practically full. Most of his content involved acting with a lot of backstory. Really diving deep into massive rounds of role play and foreplay. That boy didn’t play games once that time came around though.
Next was Solo. He was working with a lot of underground stars and still reaching the levels of the ones older than him. Yet, he picked up those levels quick. Reaching the heights of his family and making women reach their climax at the same time.
But, the one who really caught your eyes was Jey. He was the definition of your ideal man. His warm-looking tan skin, his beautiful curly mullet, sexy ass style, big meaty thighs and muscles, and those grills. The way he fucked made you shrivel in your panties. He was a beast with a lot of mouth, just the way you liked it. His style consisted more of an interview at the beginning with a little foreplay and then straight to business. Asking girls about what turns them on the most and what he’s gonna do to them. Making each and every woman who set foot near him blush heavily.
And let’s not get started about that dick.
Definitely a 9-incher, big and heavy looking balls that laid nicely underneath his cock. A luscious pink mushroom tip, with meaty veins that trailed down to his trimmed hair. Now, it’s getting really hot and the thoughts of what he could do to you couldn’t stop dancing around your head.
After some more internet stalking, the time flew by and your flight approached.
Knowing that he stayed in ATL made you absolutely happy. Your manager wouldn’t let you know who exactly you’d be working with, but as soon as you saw your ticket, you knew you were in for a treat and rude awakening.
Dressing your absolute best in a grey Skims shirt and matching miniskirt, that barely covered your ass… perfect.
Wig secured down by some industrial glue and an opt out for the lashes, knowing they’d come off. But, mascara is a must.
On your way there, you couldn’t contain the excitement you felt. Watching some of his work that night before and earlier that day, you knew what he liked, how he acted, and how he wanted it. All the little things that made him tick and shiver.
You were seriously on demon time.
Even though, you felt as though you were throughly experienced and quite the pro. The flashing lights and big cameras still made you very nervous. In the beginning, your parents weren’t very supportive, but once they saw you had a roof over your head and food to eat, that’s all that mattered to them. But, sometimes the days didn’t get any easier. Luckily, your manager was a real one and knew how to calm you down.
After meeting all members of the crew, and the camera and director you and Jey would be working closely with today, you got touched up as you awaited Jey’s arrival.
“Nervous?!” The makeup artist asked you. Laughing slightly, you nonchalantly ignored your jitters and told her you were fine. All that anxious behavior would only arise and the man of the hour arrived.
He looked absolutely scrumptious in a pair of white joggers and a white Nike Tech with no shirt on underneath. His Cuban link chains shining in the sunlight and his cross earring dangling from his one ear.
Your cunt just throbbed at the sight of him. “Hello Ms. Y/N?! Is anyone in there?!” Completely zoned out and you didn’t even realize it, Jey waved his big hand in your face to catch your attention. His dimple prominent as he was quite amused by your expression.
“Hey Jey nice to meet you. Sorry… I just zoned out for a second.” Reaching out to shake his hand, he kindly refused. “It’s no problem, but I don’t shake hands I’m more of a hugger.” Flustered by his comment you arose from your chair and were soon enveloped into his burly arms.
His arms were thick and wrapped around your waist securely, his warm chest pressed against yours, as you felt your nipples harden. The feeling of his semi-hard dick rest against your thigh made you bit your lip and hold your arms around his neck tighter. “You out here showing out, I see you and your little miniskirt.” Spinning you around at 180 degrees, he stopped when your back faced his front.
Obviously entertained by his comments, you decided to show out a little more. Bending over slightly and giving him a little shake, Jey took the opportunity to give your ass an ample smack. “Uh oh, we got a lotta chemistry over here, don’t we?!” The producer of our film walked over to us as we were sharing a moment.
Both of us blushed at the producers comments. Damn right we have chemistry, but we really are gonna see once those cameras turn on. “But, we need more of that on the screen, so let’s get filming.” Turning back around to you, Jey gave you a wet kiss on the cheek and winked at you as he headed to the living room.
He is something else.
————————————————————————
“In 5, 4, 3, 2… 1.”
“Alright, well look at who we have here. We got the Queen of Screams, Y/N in the building. And the Leader Beater, Jey.” Both of us have a wave and proper introduction to the camera as we laughed at the names the producer gave us.
“I just gotta say you guys just sitting next to each other is already a movie.”
“Maybe I need to move a little more closer to him then.” Snuggling up by his side as gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead.
Jey’s arm was placed on the back of the couch with his legs fully spread, giving a beautiful of his already hard dick. You crossed you legs to staf off that feeling of what he would do to you tonight.
“You already know what it is Uce. I got one of the baddest in the game next to me and I’ve been waiting to get my hands on that ass.”
“Ooooo, Jey got all the smoke about you Y/N. You know that ass is viral!!”
Rolling you eyes slightly, you casually smirked as you began to open your mouth. “I got all the smoke behind him too. I’ve been waiting to dig into him for a while.” Your hand left your right thigh as you palmed him through his white sweats, feeling all of his girth.
“Okayyy, Jey how we feeling about that?!!”
“I’m feeling real good about that Uce. Like the feeling is only rising from here.” Removing your hand from his length, you put your head down as you laughed at his comment.
“She bout to be a REALLLL problem Uce!!” Jey’s hand traveled from the back of the couch to your ass as he palmed and massaged it. Returning the favor, you returned your hand back onto his dick.
“Tim, you need to speed this up a little don’t you think?!” Biting your lip and looking Jey dead in his chocolate brown eyes.
“She’s on demon time Jey.”
Jey simply nodded his head at the camera with a smile on his face as you threw your head back in laughter. “But, you gotta show me a little something bae.”
“What you wanna see?!”
Jey intently stared at your chest, barely taking his eyes off of them. “I think he wants to see my tits.” You giggled as you sensually removed your top, letting your breasts out on full display. Jey took a sharp intake of his breath as he admired your ample assets. You played with them first as you stuck your tongue out of your mouth, letting your saliva drip down onto them.
“Why yo ass so scared Jey?!” He quickly snapped out of your trance and gave you a questioning look. “I ain’t ever scared.”
“Prove it.”
Jey dove straight into the middle of your breasts, motorboating himself. You giggled as you took the back of his head into your hands. Things took a sharp turn when he massaged both of your sensitive breasts in his hands and began sucking on each nipples. Covering them in the upmost amount of saliva.
Bringing himself back into an upright position, he sat back and played with your tits. In awe of the dangly Hello Kitty nipple piercing you had on your right tit. “That fuckin’ piercing go crazy Uce, get a closeup on that.” As the cameraman went in to get a closeup, Jey shook your tits from side to side giving himself and the viewers a show.
“He’s having a lot of fun.” Jey gave the camera another sly look as he continued to play with your breasts. “But, I know he’s gonna have more fun with this.” Removing his hands from you, your chest now faces the back of the couch and your knees now pressed up against the seat cushion. You could hear a whistle coming from Jey’s mouth as you gently shook your ass, letting your miniskirt rise showcasing your lovely pink thong.
“This what I’m taking about baby.” Jey bit his lip as his head neared your ass, giving it a wonderful spank, kiss, and caress. “I’m done with this. I’m ready to get in the field.”
“Wow Y/N, I don’t think we’ve ever seen Jey skip over the interview so fast. We got only about four minutes of footage.”
“Four minutes is enough, come baby.” You yelped as Jey took you into his arms and walked to the bed placed off camera.
“I guess I just got the magic touch.”
“Damn right she do. Take that shit off for me mama.”
Tossing you onto the plush bed, you followed his orders and removed your skirt and panties. Your cunt on full display: wet, warm, pink, and soft. You began to play with your pearl as you stared into Jey’s now dark eyes. He slowly started to undo the ties in his sweats. “Keep playing with it baby, I need that pussy real wet when I fuck it.”
Him telling you to continue masturbating in front of him already drove you over the edge, but wanting you real wet when he fucked you, sent you to the moon.
“Unhhh… my pussy’s so wet for you daddy.” Jey was now in his PSD boxers, playing with his clothed cock at the same pace as you. You both stared sensually into each others eyes as Jey finally became nude. Your eyes couldn’t help but to trail down to his massive length, taking in all its magnificent glory.
“Yo ass looking at it real bad, come give it a taste.” Swiftly, you positioned yourself ass up face down as you took his dick into your small hands. Licking at his swollen head, you captured his bead of pre-cum. Closing your eyes and savoring the taste.
Jey’s head leaned back as you enveloped his entire cock into your mouth, all the way to the base. “Fuckkk, that throat ain’t no joke for real.” Not only were you known for your ass, the way you seemed to swallow a dick up so easily was also a topic of discussion.
You sloppily cover his entire length in your saliva, balls and all. You barely even gagged as he reached the back of your throat. Jey’s head lolled back as he revel in the feeling of your throat swallowing him whole like it was nothing. Bobbing your head up and down, twirling circles around his dick, and playing with his balls. “I-I-I-I c-an’t.”
Jey immediately pushed you away as he shivered at the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving, that he had to stop you. “We can’t be going too crazy so fast now. Stay bent over like that baby.” Arching your back even further, Jey assumed the position behind you.
Massaging your ass oh so heavenly. “That ass is something dangerous mama.” Blushing, you began to shake your ass back reaching to feel his dick. He just stood still as he admired your lewd attempts to fuck yourself against him.
Your pussy finally found his cock and you moaned as you gently pushed it into yourself. “Oooo Daddy, that feels so good already.” Jey grabbed your hips in order to get himself inside of you faster. “That pussy so tighttt.”
You bit your lip and looked into the camera as Jey bottomed out into you and began fucking you slowly. “Hey Jey, I swear you got more than that. Give the girl what she wants.”
Jey paused as you looked back at him. “Many girls can’t handle this and then they tap out.”
“I don’t tap out sweetheart. Do your worst.”
Jey pushed your head down into the mattress, as well as pushing your back down slightly more. He spread your legs further and held your juicy hips. He whispered to the camera, “She ain’t ready.”
Jey soon began to absolutely berating your cunt into oblivion. Your nails almost broke as you clawed at the sheets so roughly. Your ass bounced off of his taut abs as if a basketball was being dribbled on a court.
Your screams muffled into the mat as he didn’t cease his ministrations. His hand stayed trained on the back of your head as your nails scratched up his forearm.
“I told you yo’ ass ain’t ready. Tell the world your ass wasn’t ready!!” He pulled your head up as your face was covered in mascara stained tears and forced you to stare into the camera. The cameraman moved to get a closeup. “Tell the world yo’ ass can’t take it.”
Eyes rolled all the way to the back of your head and a big smile on your face, you proudly spoke. “I ca—n take i-i-it wo-rld.” A moan in each break of your sentence as you took Jey’s dick like a champ.
“She lasted longer than the rest, I ain’t gonna lie.” Your head fell back into the sheets as pulled both of your arms to your lower back. You soon began squirting and screaming like a mad woman, nearly as if someone was murdering you.
Well… you were definitely getting murdered in a different way.
“Fuckkkk, baby I’m about to cum. Keep squeezing me just like that.”
Your cunt never stopped clenching as Jey’s cum soon entered your quaking pussy. Jey beat seven hard strokes into your cunt, ensuring that he got every single drop into you.
You shivered as he left the warmth of pussy. You lied back against the bed and but your lip as Jey gave you a sloppy wet kiss.
“How was that guys?!”
“That was cinema.” We said in unison.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END.
I actually think this is my longest fic to date. Why are all my Jey fics so long?!?! I wanna do a Roman fic give some ideas for Big Uce 💝💝🤪!!!
MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020 @theogsamoanqueen @saintsvenust @angelreigns444
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highlyentropicmind · 6 months
Text
How "porn" came to mean "good"
If you go to reddit and look for subs with the word "porn" in the name most of them are not about pornography or sex
r/FoodPorn is about pictures of food
r/EarthPorn and r/natureporn are about pictures of landscapes
r/ExposurePorn is about photos with a long exposure
Not even r/HumanPorn is about pornography, it is just about pictures of people
And these are just a few examples, I could keep going, but the point is that in these cases the word "porn" means "good" or "high quality"
And it's not just subreddit names, people use it in conversation. For example I remember one time I saw a gif of someone juggling in slow motion and people in the comments said it was "juggling porn". They didn't mean it was sexual at all, they meant that this person was really really good at juggling
In fact if you browse reddit for an hour I'm sure you'll find at least one example of people using the word "porn" in this non-sexual way
This is a very interesting example of linguistic evolution, and it is evidence of a remarkably sex-positive attitude
People who see sex and porn as shameful or "dirty" could never use "porn" in this non-sexual way to mean high quality
I think this started with people sharing videos or photos of food that looked really good, prompting someone to joke that it was like "food porn" and it stuck
Afterwards people kept making that joke about high quality pictures of food, and then started applying it to high quality pictures of anything, until the word "porn" acquired a new meaning
If this trend continues it could escape containment and be used in the real world
I wouldn't be surprised if in ten years a small business owner is taken to court for indecency just because their store is named something like "Bike Porn" and he just sells high quality bicycles
And I wouldn't be surprised if this person won his trail, forcing a judge to admit that the word "porn" has a non-sexual meaning, and opening the floodgates for this word to be used openly without any issue
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