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jeewrites · 2 months

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Hold Fast | Ch. 1 Will Squat for Dinner

Series Master List

Inspo: In an IG reel @ tashabraziliano asks a guy at the gym to play a game where if she squats him he has to buy her dinner at Nando’s.

Rating: M for this one shot, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

A/N: Thank you to @bloviating-vy for being my beta and my write or die! Grateful to everyone who voted in my poll and @katareyoudrilling for encouraging me to post. In the Hold Fast AU all the guys make it back from S. America, additional details TBD if this ends up being a series

Word Count: ~4.0k

Tags: no y/n, gymbff!Benny, alcohol, swearing, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), alcohol, brief body insecurity and Frankie being down on himself, Tom owns a bar, Pope owns a gym, alternating POV with one brief Benny POV

next chapter >>

The first time you went to train at Pope's Gym, Benny wouldn’t stop talking your ear off during your workout. When you finally got a word in edgewise, you made a bet with him that if you could squat him, he would shut the fuck up and let you finish your workout in peace. To his amazement, not only did you squat him, you repped him 3 times before setting him down to raucous applause. You’d been gym besties ever since. It didn’t hurt that he was nice to look at with his dirty blonde hair and penchant to go sans shirt so he could flaunt his abs as frequently as possible. Plus, his big golden retriever energy never failed to brighten your day.

Benny liked to tease you about the gym you used to go to that had vanity lighting, a smoothie bar, and chilled eucalyptus-scented towels. While Pope's had the most lifting platforms of any gym in town, you were adjusting to the lack of central A/C and other amenities you were used to. Pope’s was housed in a large warehouse space, bare metallic bones, with multiple commercial rolling doors instead of a proper HVAC system. Besides the rows upon rows of platforms, a selection of assault bikes and ergs lined one wall of the gym, while a section of accessory machines collected dust in the corner.

You learned which platforms got the most airflow depending on which rolling door was open and which ones the massive fans covered best. You had made the switch because you had outgrown your old gym which catered to the general public. The bougie public, Benny liked to remind you. You had started lifting heavy and wanted to lift heavier, so you found yourself signing up at Pope's after Pope himself had given you the tour around the space. You learned that Pope had started the gym after coming back from Colombia wanting to promote health and strength in the community while getting into better shape himself. Looking at the peach shape of his ass you could bounce anything off of, you knew Pope had been putting the work in.

Benny worked the front desk at Pope's between training and fighting MMA. His older and blonder brother Will would come by to work out, but he was often leaving when you were arriving so you didn't know him well beyond a friendly wave. Plus, it seemed like Benny used the majority of the word quota between the Miller brothers. Pope's grew on you and you got to know the regulars who trained the same time you did; enough that you gave them cute identifying nicknames in your head (often without knowing their actual names) and worried about them when they missed more than a session or two.

Benny was surprised to see you walk into Pope's one night an hour before closing since you always trained in the mornings. You had given him a short head nod instead of your usual big smile before stalking to a platform and slamming your bag down.

"Yooooo, everything ok?" he asks as he walks over.

"Does it look like I'm okay," you huff, aggressively wrestling your knee sleeves on. Glancing at him, you immediately apologize when he hesitates and takes a step back.

"Sorry, Benny. I'll be a lot better after I pick up some heavy things and put them down."

"Might help if you want to talk about it?" he ventures leaning against the barbell.

You finish tying your squat shoes before looking at him again with dejected eyes and sighing.

"I just went on a crappy date with a guy from one of those dating apps," you sigh again. "He spent the whole time talking about himself and how much he works out. Then he had the fucking audacity to question me when he asked how much I could lift."

"Fucking asshole!" Benny feels himself getting steamed.

"He just stormed out of the restaurant and left me with the bill when I refused to change my answer," you shrug, but Benny sees your jaw tick. "Apparently, I squat and deadlift more than he does and he couldn't date someone who could do that." You roll your eyes and huff.

"WTF! What a total loser. You don't need a guy like that who doesn't appreciate you," Benny replies incensed. He sees your face fall for a moment, eyes downcast and tight.

"I just — I've been trying to put myself out there again and it sucks," you mumble, cheeks flush with embarrassment. "It's also been kinda lonely since I moved here, and I guess I could just use more friends, too."

"I'M YOUR FRIEND!"

"Yeah, my gym friend! We don't do anything outside of this hot, sweaty box Benny," you remind him with a small smile and playful shove to get him off your barbell.

Benny decides this is completely unacceptable and immediately remedies this by inviting you to the next hangout with him and his ex-Delta Force friends at Redfly's, a local bar nearby. "You know Pope and Will already," he reassures, "Tom's the owner of the bar and he's an asshole, but he's our asshole. And there's Catfish — we call him Fish for short. We've been trying to get him to come work out here, but he's been busy with his new pilot job for the hospital. And he shares custody of his 3-year-old daughter with his ex."

He could see your brain turning over all the information he was throwing at you. You don't seem to react either way to the news that Fish has an ex and a daughter. As you adjust the bar height you respond, "You sure? Don't want to crash a regular thing that you have with your guys."

"Nah, it'll be great! They'll love you!" Benny's determined to get you to come.

You hand him your phone. "Well... okay. Text me the details?"

With your phone in hand, Benny puts his number in to text himself and then convinces you to show him your dating profile. Between sets of squats you both take turns swiping on possible matches, Benny teasing you on your picks. Ever observant, Benny notices your preference for profiles with tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed candidates. As you work through your next set, Benny sneaks his phone out and immediately texts Fish.

Redfly's was what you expected for a bar run by an ex-delta force asshole. Dimly lit, buncha mismatched tables and chairs, lots of dark grain wood, and an air of neglect despite being quite clean. It was mostly empty except for a few grizzled guys who screamed regulars, nursing beers at the bar. Lots of beers on tap, but not so much for cocktail options. Not that you were a big drinker anyway. If anything, all the training made you an extremely cheap date. But damn, if you were going to drink, you wanted it to be a solid cocktail.

"THERE SHE IS!" Benny bounds over to you before grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the table in the corner. He introduces you to Tom who was standing by the table chatting with the guys. Tom gives a half-hearted greeting before stalking off back to the bar. Pope gives you a big smile and hug, "Good to see you hermosa, don't mind Tom. That was downright friendly for him." You snort as you settle into your seat next to Pope. Will also greets you with a small wave and an offer to pour you a beer from the pitcher.

"That's okay, I'm not much of a beer drinker." You wince, wrinkling your nose.

"I thought you said she was cool," Pope teases Benny who rolls his eyes and looks at you with faux betrayal.

"How about I buy shots for the table? Would that make me cool?" you smirk, getting up to go to the bar.

"Only if I get one too," says a warm, baritone voice from behind you. A tall, handsome man slides into the last vacant seat across from yours. Soft brown curls threaten to escape the Standard Oil cap nestled on his head. The warmest brown eyes smile at you as he holds your surprised gaze. "Hi, I'm Fish. Sorry, 'm late."

You want to trace the golden skin stretched deliciously along the column of his neck. Run your fingers through those curls that look so, so incredibly soft. And the strong curve of his nose... You snap out of your reverie before you respond with your name. "Better get those shots then," you say, trying not to trip over your unexpectedly shaky legs. Holy shit, why the fuck didn't Benny mention his friend Fish was gorgeous?

When Benny bugged him to come to the Friday night hangout at Redfly’s, Frankie hadn’t given it a second thought. The exuberant text from Benny, “You coming this week right? Got someone from Pope’s coming to meet you guys!!!” had two too many exclamation points for his taste. He figured Benny had a new lifting partner he wanted the guys to meet and his attendance had been pretty spotty between the new EMS pilot gig and balancing shared custody with Vanessa.

So when he walked into Redfly’s and overheard you say “… shots for the table?” He just assumed Tom had finally hired some help in the form of a very cute new waitress.

It wasn’t until he asked the guys when Tom hired you, eyes not leaving your form as you walked away, did he realize the absolute error in his assumption. “That’s my friend from the gym, Fish. SHE’s from Pope’s,” Benny rolled his eyes.

“C’mon hermano, you know Tom’s too cheap to hire help and too much of a pendejo for help to stick around,” Pope added.

Frankie pulled his cap low over his eyes and slid down his seat. He could feel himself flush. Fuck, he thought. Just made an ass out of myself demanding a shot from a total stranger.

You had frozen for a moment after he introduced himself before offering your name with a bit of a grimace. He thought you were gorgeous though and smelled incredible, fresh and citrusy with hints of something sweet and floral that lingered even after you had walked away.

“So, whaddya think, Fish?” Benny prods. "She’s smart, pretty, super strong, and a total sweetheart. Should ask her out."

Frankie flushes a deeper red. “S’outta my league Benny.”

“Aw, c’mon Fish, you gotta get back out there,” Benny persists. "Made it easy for you too. I happen to know you’re exactly her type."

“What, she into out of shape, 40-year-old, divorced, single dads with a toddler?” Fish grumbles. He hadn’t dressed particularly well tonight either, just his usual worn khakis and old faded navy t-shirt. Hadn’t suspected Benny was going to try to set him up tonight, although with Benny you never knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Might’ve mentioned summa that to her. She didn’t even blink, Fish. You got a shot and you should take it.”

Frankie finally tears his eyes away from you. You had just said something that made Tom smile ever so briefly and he wanted to know what you said. Frankie didn’t even realize Tom smiled anymore.

He sees Pope giving Benny that look that said Pope knew Frankie was indeed interested in you, but needed some extra encouragement and to get out of his head. How a single look conveyed all of that spoke to the years and shit they’d all been through together.

“Gonna help her bring over the drinks,” Benny says, popping out of his chair before Frankie could tell him to keep his big mouth shut.

He lifts his cap and runs his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t even tried to comb his fucking hair before coming out tonight. He slides the cap back on hoping it catches the more unruly curls.

“You’re a total catch, Fish,” Pope says, pouring him a beer. “Don’t count yourself out before even shooting your shot.”

“Could just be a coffee date. Don’t overthink it,” Will seconds.

Frankie takes a big pull of his beer. Easy for these two to say. Both Pope and Will worked out regularly at the gym and had the physiques to show for it. As much as Frankie had insisted everyone needed to get back on their game when they got back from Colombia, he was the only one out of the five of them who hadn't.

At least it didn’t feel like it with his achy back and bad knees. Sure, he had finally gotten his pilot’s license reinstated and now shared custody of his daughter. But he was self-conscious of his soft stomach, especially next to Benny whose abs were definitely the example given in the dictionary next to “rock-hard.” What did he have to offer you besides a mountain of baggage and PTSD? Maybe if he just kept his mouth shut everything would be fine and he’d survive tonight without embarrassing himself.

At this point, you are willing to brave Tom the asshole to collect yourself before sitting across from Frankie and his big brown eyes again. Tom raises an eyebrow when you order six shots ("One's for you asshole," you say to Tom with a teasing glare) and ask if he could make an Aviation. You swear he gives you the faintest smile before grumbling about ridiculous froufrou cocktails, but he wasn't born yesterday and yes he could make you one.

Benny sidles up to you at the bar as you wait for Tom to finish making your drink, offering to help you carry the drinks back to the table. "You doing ok? You seem nervous," Benny observes as you tap your fingers on the bar.

"Why didn't you warn me Fish is fucking hot?" you pointedly whisper back.

Benny grins at you as he leans back on his elbows against the bar, "Fucking knew it. Totally thought he'd be your type, girlie."

"You trying to set us up??" you glare at him.

Benny shrugs with exaggerated innocence. "Maaaaybe."

You huff, "Does he know that? Am I even his type?" You cringe inwardly at your insecurity.

"Well considering he hasn't taken his eyes off you since you left the table makes me think you are," Benny smirks. The smug look stays on his face.

For once you're glad you took more than five minutes to put yourself together before walking out the door. You picked a pair of jeans that hugged your curves and a fitted top with a very complementary neckline. Black-heeled booties gave you a few inches and made your legs look longer than they were. Worth the hassle of walking in at least for one night. The lightest dusting of make-up, mostly eyeliner and glossy lip balm, highlights your facial features.

"So maybe I should shoot my shot then, hmm?" you wink at Benny with a knowing smile.

"If you're thinking what I'm thinking…," Benny grins thinking back on the day you two met.

"That's very purple," Fish observes as you and Benny set down the drinks for the table.

"It's an Aviation. You might like it considering you're a pilot, mmh?" you respond with a smile. Okay, you've collected yourself. Sort of. Let's see if you remember how this flirting thing goes.

"What are we taking shots to celebrate?" Pope asks.

"How about to new, strong, friends?" you quip.

"I'll cheers to that!" Benny raises his glass.

Conversation is light and fun with the guys. You marvel at their connection and closeness as they teased and talked like people who have been through some shit together over the years. You convince Fish to try the Aviation to which he declares it a "very fancy purple" and keeps sneaking sips much to your amusement. They fold you into their conversation, asking about your training, and what competitions you might try this season. They praise Pope about how the gym has flourished and rib him about his ever-revolving door of beautiful women.

"What about you, Fish? You thinking about getting back out there and dating?" Benny asks before flicking his eyes over to you. You remind yourself to thank Benny profusely for being the best wingman ever.

"'Dunno. Not sure where to even start," Frankie mumbles into his beer, casting his eyes down.

"I have an idea," you give Frankie your best coy smile.

"Yeah?" he breathes looking up at you. Those damn brown eyes.

"I have a game for you," you offer before taking a breath. “If I squat you, you get to buy me dinner.” Your heart is thrumming in your chest and you feel your cheeks flush, but damnit, you were going to shoot your fucking shot. "But if I can rep you, I want the whole nine yards. Pick me up at my place, flowers, dinner and dessert."

"You — you think you can squat me?" Fish looks a bit surprised, "I— it's, it's not that I don't think you can. But 'm... A lot bigger than you... 'm out of shape." His ears pink at the last part as he cups one hand over the back of his neck.

"I know I can. Do we have a deal?" you smile at him with encouragement and extend your hand across the table. Fish hesitates, but you try not to assume why.

"Jesus, Fish, if you don't take her up on it, I will," Pope winks at you.

Fish glances between you and Pope for a brief moment.

He reaches out and shakes your hand. "Okay, deal." You try not to get distracted by the way his large hand engulfs yours.

"Let's go, brown eyes," you tell him as you stand up from your chair and whip your hair up into a high ponytail.

"You're going to do this in heels?" Fish asks as he gets up from his chair with a grunt. Christ, he's so tall. And broad. You shrug and look up at him through your lashes, “I mean, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels.”

You move so you stand with your side towards his front.

“I'm going to put my hand here,” you gesture to his right inner thigh just above the knee. "Is that okay?"

"Yep."

"Alright, you ready?"

He nods.

You carefully slump him over your shoulders in a fireman's carry, gripping tightly to his upper arm and thigh. You can feel the warmth of his body pressed deliciously across your shoulders. He's so warm.

You brace.

Benny's out of his seat, whooping and hollering. Pope's leaning forward, elbows on his knees, clapping, "Let's go, let's go!" Will's grinning and shaking his head in amusement. The regulars at the bar sneak glances over in your direction.

Frankie catches himself remarking on the particular shade of purple out loud when you return to the table with Benny bearing shots and a suspiciously purple beverage. He realizes after you respond and the dazzling smile you give him that you’re flirting with him. He thinks?? He’s so out of practice. God, he’d do anything for you to smile at him like that again.

When you slide your drink over to him to try he surprises himself by taking a sip. He’s even more surprised that he likes it. Crisp juniper dances across his tongue followed by a delicate floral sweetness and a touch of citrus with a spiced cardamom and anise finish. This very purple drink tastes the way you smell. And the giggle you give him when he calls it a “very fancy purple” blooms warmth through him, settling low in his core. He can only think about how he can elicit that sound from you again.

Which is how he misses Benny asking him if he’s thinking about getting back out there and dating. Fucking Benny and his goddamn big mouth.

But then you’re smiling at him again, telling him, single-dad, divorcee Francisco Morales, you have an idea. He’s looking at you and he can barely breathe as your eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint and your plush, glossy lips propose a game.

For a moment he’s confused. Did you not want to go out to dinner with him? Because if he’s honest, he doesn’t think you could squat him. He’s so much bigger than you. And he’s pretty sure if he tried, he could put you in his pocket. But then you’re brimming with confidence and extending your hand out to strike a deal.

It’s when Pope — fucking Pope — threatens to play your game in his place that Frankie is engulfing your delicate hand in his large one. You surprise him with a firm handshake and it’s then that he can feel the callouses across your palm. Callouses from many, many reps with the barbell.

Frankie finds himself towering over you, realizing you’re about to try and squat him in heeled booties. He vaguely hears you ask for consent to touch his inner thigh just above his knee before he finds himself suspended horizontally in the air across a set of firm shoulders, anchored by two small hands. He can feel when you brace, feel your entire core expand. The muscles across your shoulders and back flex underneath your fitted top. And suddenly he’s moving up and down, steadily with control.

You end up squatting Fish five times before setting him back down gently with a breathless giggle. He's towering over you again and you just want to press yourself into his broad chest and envelope yourself in the smell of his body wash.

"Dinner?" you smirk up at him.

"Wow, yeah, dinner on me," Fish flushes, impressed and a little dazed.

"It's a date then," you quip, poking him in the rib before you sit back down at the table. You notice his brown eyes spark with realization at your comment.

Will, Benny, and Pope all high-five you. Cheeks still pink, Fish pulls his chair around to sit closer to you. Tom wanders back over to the table grumbling that Redfly's isn't that kind of establishment with theatrics like you just pulled. But he also sets down an Aviation along with another pitcher of beer before returning to the bar.

"He's just jealous you didn't try to squat him," Benny laughs. You giggle in response as the conversation around the table picks back up.

Feeling Fish's gaze on you, you slide your cocktail over to him. A frisson of electricity shoots up your entire arm when his fingers brush against yours as he takes your cocktail glass.

You tilt your head towards him, your eyes meeting his warm brown ones, and whisper, "By the way, my favorite flowers are dahlias."

Frankie lost count by the time you repped him the third time. Just awed by you having the strength to carry him like this. He decides to just enjoy the rest of the ride.

When you set him back upright he almost melts into a puddle at the breathless giggle you let out. He catalogs that sound in his mind. He wants to brush back the hairs that have escaped your ponytail and he already misses your touch, wants to close the space between your bodies somehow without being creepy.

He gets lost in your eyes when you gaze up at him, he’s definitely over a head taller than you, and ask, “Dinner?”

Frankie is pretty sure he responds in the affirmative, still a bit dazed and very impressed.

It’s when you confirm it’s a date that his brain fritzes, reboots, and takes a minute to come back online. He blinks several times at the realization. He has a date. With you.

next chapter>>

Notes: Dahlias symbolize elegance, creativity, positivity, and growth. It also represents inner strength, likely due to the plant's ability to tolerate harsh conditions.

"Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels.” — Ann Richards

🙏🏽 Thank you so much for reading my first fic! I'm bad at tumblr and new to tags/warnings/fan fics in general, so if I missed something please let me know.

I am open to constructive feedback but please be gentle with this baby powerlifting writer, yeah? I might be able to squat you, but I'm a big ol' softie.

Aaand I'm thinking about expanding on these characters and making Hold Fast into a series if anyone would want to read it. I may or may not already have a Frankie POV at Pope's Gym where he gets to see reader in her element. 👀

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #pedro pascal cinematic universe #hold fast a frankie x powerlifting!reader fanfic #happy frankie friday #frankie friday

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shaymiens · 2 months

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so the thing about smosh as a business entity on youtube is that they grew up in a culture where tricky decisions and hard conversations almost always got swept under the rug, outside of the knowledge of viewers. there's a reason why we didn't know how bad things were under defy until the entire company popped.

but even starting under mythical, it became clear to me that this is still the sort of culture that smosh continues to operate under. if you were following smoshblr around 2018-2020, you know that there were a lot of extremely relevant issues that fans cared about that smosh NEVER openly addressed or acknowledged. things like:

the original smosh games group saying they weren't given the same stake in the smosh company as others after mythical bought them

sohinki and boze pointing to matt raub as someone who treated them poorly within the company, while matt raub's presence in videos grew

hugely influential talent such as mari stepping away from smosh and feeling underappreciated because of how promptly and coldly things ended

zero transparency in handling sexual harrassment allegations against past talent

a lack of racial diversity in thumbnails and promotional content

smosh streaming on twitch, a platform for smaller, more indie creators/personalities, and keeping vods behind a paywall

i'm probably forgetting some other things but my point is that it would not surprise me at all if smosh either does nothing about noah or quietly lets him go as part-time talent, instead of releasing a statement that adequately addresses the reasonable concerns of fans who stand with palestine — because smosh has continually proven that they do not make public, company-wide statements on things that are just more than slightly inconvenient for them.

do i blame them? i mean, yeah. they're a youtube channel whose brand success hugely hinges on relatability, genuineness, and an intimate connection to the viewers. but in 2020 i personally had to reckon with the reality that smosh is indeed a business, and it's a large one at that. it makes tricky decisions quietly because for them, online discourse dies quickly enough and it's safer for the whole of their company and their employees to not fan those flames, especially if it means one of their own getting burned.

i do not watch the majority of smosh content nowadays. i tune into a few videos here and there. i understand that it's no longer personally relatable to me and that i now prefer watching content that feels more intimate and creatively passionate. i don't really get upset at smosh directly anymore because i've reformed my expectations of them as content creators.

i guess i'm saying all this because i know people want to love smosh and its content and its cast, and as a fellow obsessive fangirl of things, i want them to be able to love all of it wholeheartedly. but i feel bad that fans are anguished, waiting for something that i deeply suspect smosh will never give them. i hope i post this and i hop on instagram and i see i'm proven wrong lol. but really i just hope that me saying this will prevent some of the prolonged heartbreak that can come in caring about smosh as more than a content creation business. that's all

#thoughts #discourse #negative #long post #noah

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areyougonnabe · 8 months

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I know nothing about polar exploration! Or Shackleton! But you seem excited about it!

Have a favourite fact you'd like to share?!?

well my two favorite facts have already been shared which are the cautionary tale of the toxic polar polycule and the story of the antarctic lovebirds !!!

but here is a contender for #3... the tale of jessamine.

let's start with our homies Deb (left) and Griff (right), aka Frank Debenham and T. Griffith Taylor, the geologists of terra nova's cape evans shore party:

they would both later go onto impressive careers in academia, start families, basically be well-liked hard-working guys (also participants in 20th century imperialism but let's take that as given based on our starting point of this expedition lol)

BUT we are meeting them here, in antarctica, aged 27 and 30, "Early Career Researchers" as we might call them now. trying to keep busy with SCIENCE during the long antarctic winter night of 1911!!!!!

these guys go way back btw. Deb was born and raised in Australia and and Griff moved to Australia when he was a kid, and they both attended the fancy-schmancy King's School near Sydney, the Australian equivalent of british public school (e.g. Eton). according to griff they were family friends at that time although they would have been a few years apart at school.

later around 1908 they both studied at the University of Sydney under leading geologist Sir Edgeworth David, who had been on Shackleton's Nimrod expedition and reached the South Magnetic Pole with Mawson. They both ended up being hired onto Scott's expedition through university connections, Deb via Professor David and Griff through a scholarship to Cambridge where he met Wilson.

okay. backstory established. now one thing you need to know about Griff is that he was a total freak. like Racovitza, he was a Poster before there were online platforms to Post on. if you had that kind of brain back then, and no access to adderall, you had to just sit around inventing new kinds of science instead of deep-frying spongebob screencaps. he was a consummate edwardian memelord who would read a novel per day and still have time to write 20 pages of diary in which he would floridly record the silliest things that happened since the morning, the various quirks and quotes of expedition members, and then complain about captain scott in shorthand.

to say nothing of his passion for CREATIVE WRITING! vitally, Griff was one of the main contributors to the Cape Evans hut magazine, the South Polar Times edited by Apsley Cherry-Garrard. there were 3 issues of this during the winter of 1911 and 1 issue during the winter of 1912, the latter of which included much material written/submitted during 1911 before the polar party met with tragedy.

Griff was a versatile writer, and his pieces (which would sometimes cumulatively make up nearly half an issue of the SPT by page count) ran the gamut from expository nonfiction to speculative poetry to comedic epistolary to magazine pastiche. he had certain motifs that he frequently returned to—none as compelling, in my opinion, as that of Jessamine. or Jasmine, or Jessie, or Jessica, as the case may be...

it all began, according to Griff's diary, early in the austral winter of 1911, when Deb was "christened Jasmine by Titus [Oates]."

where this nickname came from is unclear—many of the men had picked up female nicknames on the voyage down (see "Jane" Atkinson, "Marie" Nelson, "Penelope" Pennell) but Deb had not been on the voyage down because he had gotten picked up in Australia, so this may have been a belated attempt to correct that omission. Griff wrote in his book about the expedition, "We were short of female society—which lack also accounts for Jessie Debenham as an alternative to Deb."

in any case, the name clearly caught on: on midwinter day, a little under two months after the nickname's debut, Griff recorded that during the gift exchange after dinner "Every second present or so was a necklace or earrings for Miss Jessie Debenham."

(deb and titus at midwinter dinner)

THIS GOT REALLY LONG SO CLICK READ MORE IF YOU ARE INTERESTED!!

in the second SPT issue of 1911, Griff's 17-page narrative "The Bipes" describes the inhabitants of the Cape Evans hut from the perspective of a rabbit who lives in the stables. you can read the whole thing here and please do!!! (you'll need a VPN outside the US) BUT here is the relevant bit dealing with Deb:

U. PULCHERRIMA. This Bipe inhabits a strongly defended Bungkh in the Ubdug burrow. It is supported by mighty baulks of timber and can only be reached by means of a dangerous ladder. The Bungkh is supplied with heavy hammers, piles of stones and other offensive weapons. These precautions are, I believe, necessary in the Bipe courtship, for she is often called upon to repel members of other burrows who approach her balcony with blandishments. Her time is chiefly occupied with a primitive quern or handmill, and at this she grinds for long hours every day. I judge that this merely satisfies some primitive habit, for no flour seems to be produced. But it is pleasant to see how strong is the feminine instinct.

the species name "Pulcherrima" is also the species name of the pointsetta flower, and can be translated to "beautiful woman" (i think??)

here's the illustration produced by Bill Wilson (based on Griff's sketch) to accompany the above - yes that's a portrait of Griff in her bunk and Birdie below attempting to woo her:

it must be noted that Meares, nicknamed "Mother," also gets cast in a female role in the Bipes piece, but does not receive the privilege of being drawn in a skirt, rip.

anyway, the next issue of the SPT, vol 3 issue III, is the last one to be produced before the end of winter. Griff decided to one-up himself and write a piece in which Jessamine takes center stage. The Ladies Letter is a pitch-perfect parody of the "Ladies Column" sections that appeared in many periodicals of the era—full of french fashion terms and simpering style suggestions. Griff brilliantly adapts the format for a pastiche on the subject of Antarctic fashion; not free, naturally, from general whiffs of period-typical misogyny, but as those being mocked in specific are fellow expedition members and not any actual women i forgive him.

written in the form of a letter from Jessamine to her absent friend Cynthia (whose identity i'm unsure of BUT i'm tempted to say is supposed to be Priestley, away at Cape Adare), the piece again features multiple expedition members in female roles, including Silas as "American" Sally Wright, Cherry as "Madame Chérie - that dear delightful person - who builds her beautiful creations on strictly scientific principles of hygiene and aesthetics" and Birdie as Madame Berdé, who "finds that for well developed figures it is most distinctive to use a cross-gartering well above the ankle. She herself is naturally a consistent exponent of this latter fashion."

and then of course there is Jessamine's star turn. she is wearing the newest fashion, "a modification of last year's 'tube skirt' [which] even more closely swathes the lower limbs, and it is necessary that the wearer should be rolled along by her maid."

Jessamine reveals that she is planning to induce Titus Oates to bring her a proposal of marriage through the clever use of themed charms on her chatelaine.

All the smartest girls have wreathed chains of mascots around the skirt, and a pretty idea, which I commend to you, is to have silver model made of those articles which interest THE ONLY MAN WHO COUNTS. Breathe this to no one! But Mappin & Webb are making me such a choice set. The cutest little pony; a horse snowshoe (this is very lucky); a dead rabbit; a popgun; and a silver blazon PER MARE PER TERRAM PRO TITO; this will be attached to my 'tube', and then I really do expect to bring him to a proposal.

this scenario was illustrated hilariously by Bill, complete with Jessamine being rolled along, and Titus ignoring her as could be expected, in favor of a pony (Christopher?):

now, Deb is on record saying that Titus was his best friend on the expedition, but it may well be a classic case of "you are not your best friend's best friend," because per other accounts Oates was much closer to Meares and Atch than he was to Deb. that's just an observation to add a little flavor to Jessamine's desperate pursuit as portrayed here...

and not to look a gift horse (ha) in the mouth, but i do feel that Bill's illustrations don't quiiiiiite do the genderfuckery of Griff's text justice—Jessamine describes herself as wearing a frock inspired by the aurora, but Bill instead draws Deb in normal sledging gear plus some non-dress-shaped colorful streamers. a missed opportunity...

also, lest you think that Griff was the only one partaking in the Jessamine joke in the SPT, there is also a sneaky reference in the anonymous feature "My Favorite Book":

(J-SS-- [JESSIE]: "Not like other girls")

BUT WAIT. THERE'S EVEN MORE.

viewing the handwritten drafts of the SPT held at the SPRI (because all of this is going to be an actual academic paper someday hopefully lol), i learned that there were a fair handful of references omitted from the final version, presumably thanks to Cherry's editorial oversight.

one "answer to correspondents" written by "Marie" Nelson went as follows:

Jessica: A single lady cannot be too careful about the respectability of her lodgings or the character of her companions.

(referencing Deb bunking with Griff and Gran, two of the more annoying/messy people in the hut)

and an unused entry in "Songs And Their Singers" by Teddy Evans was:

Oh What’s Womans Duty - Jasmin

lastly, and most importantly, the drafts contained the one instance i could find of deb firing back about this whole thing.

vol IV of the SPT consisted of one issue released during winter 1912, when a lot of people had gone home (including Griff), and everyone left behind knew the polar party was dead and they'd have to go look for their bodies in the spring. it was not a fun time. vol IV contained a lot of material written the previous year but not included, since for obvious reasons folks weren't really up to being silly. one of those pieces was "A Day's Doings, Told By Our Diarist," written during winter 1911 by Deb as a parody of Griff. it's pretty funny in published form (p. 72 of this pdf)—Deb is on-point mocking Griff's dislike of eating ("Breakfast is an unintellectual meal, so gave it a miss. Better a bit more bunk than a bite more breakfast.") and his never-ending theorizing ("Thought out a new theory as to the origin of debris cones: yesterday’s wasn’t good enough").

however, the draft is exponentially more hilarious. Cherry, damn him, cut the absolute BEST BIT:

Made a genre sketch of Jasmine brushing her (his) hair – it’s a fool nickname anyways, mixes up the genders.

knowing Deb—quiet, patient, chronically non-confrontational—that's about as explicit as he was willing to get, as far as revealing how he felt about the nickname. writing Griff realizing that it's a bit silly, he reveals to some degree his own discomfort. now, was it a "protest too much" situation or had he genuinely gotten fed up with being the Designated Girl Of The Hut? we shall never know!!!!!!!!

however the draft of the piece ends thusly: "[I] got paralysed at chess by the wily Jasmine, it’s a mud game, if ever there was one. Hinc illae lacrimae!"

so despite all the aspersions cast on her honor, and the failure of Titus Oates to accept her proposal, Jessie still triumphs in the end :)))

#polar exploration #now with more gender

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starastrologyy · 2 years

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Astrology Observations 🖤

Please don’t repost on any other social media platform 🤍

People with Pisces on the 2nd house cusp are usually very generous with money & their resources. However, at times it can be difficult for them to save, and it’s as if their money literally disappears as fast as it comes in. Remember Neptune dissolves. However, this doesn’t mean every person with a Pisces 2nd house will be spendthrift, it could also just mean that you enjoy spending your money on things that are related to spirituality, art, and the occult.

This is more of a personal anecdote. BUT, my cousin and I who grew up together, are very similar astrologically. We share the same sun & mercury sign, and our risings & moon signs are compatible. However, it seems that when we fight, we go LOW, and we tend to stay angry at each other for prolonged periods of time. I decided to take a look into our synastry, and two things stood out. The first is that my mars is EXACTLY conjunct her ascendant (meaning the orb is less than 1 degrees), and the tightest aspect in our composite chart is mercury conjunct mars. I literally had an “aha” moment. There are very few people who can truly get under my skin, but she is one of them. So, perhaps my mars closely conjuncting her ascendant can account for that. We also tend to exchange very harsh words impulsively, this can be explained by our mercury conjunct mars in the composite. (Remember composite charts will show you the main themes of a relationship as a unit) I obviously love her and always will, we are family after all. But I thought I’d give some insight into family synastry, as it’s not something that is frequently discussed on here.

Since you all seemed to appreciate the little snippet I put in my last post about what you are likely going to study in college based on the sign on your 9th house cusp I thought I’d do a few more.

Libra on the 9th: political science, law, fashion/fashion design, studying to be an esthetician, studying to become a marriage/couple counselor.

Scorpio on the 9th: medicine, psychology, criminology, forensics, anything related to the healing professions.

Gemini on the 9th: journalism, communications, writing.

Leo on the 9th: theatre/acting, creative arts, studying anything that puts you in the public eye. Alternatively, studying something that involves working with children in some way. Interestingly, Leo on the 9th can suggest that you will attend a very well-known/prestigious college.

Virgo Risings are such interesting people to me. This is because they usually have every aspect of their lives together EXCEPT their romantic lives (Pisces 7H). These individuals are prone to attracting people who need a significant amount of emotional, and sometimes physical support. I will say, Virgo risings are some of the most selfless and service-oriented people there are. These people often associate love with an element of sacrifice. Please note that if there are any planets in the 7th house of a Virgo risings chart, this may affect my description. Let’s say someone who has a Virgo rising, has Chiron in the 7th. Instead of attracting ‘broken people’, they may feel wounded by love, or subconsciously be seeking a love that is healing.

A composite chart that has its North Node in the 4th house can suggest that the destiny of your relationship (if it’s a romantic one) is to build a solid and secure home together. It could also assert that you two were brought into each other’s lives to provide each other with a significant level of emotional support & emotional healing.

Uranus in your solar return chart will show you the area of life in which you will experience the most ‘shock’ and unpredictability for the next year. Expect the unexpected in that area of life.

Saturn in your solar return chart will show you the are of life in which you will have to be the most disciplined. It will also show you where you will have to work very hard, and at times you may feel a bit restricted in this area of life.

Pluto in your solar return chart will show you where you will experience the most transformation. On occasion, it can show you where you will experience the most ‘extremes’. For example, a well aspected Pluto in the 2nd house of a Solar return can show major changes in your financial situation. You may receive a large amount of money that year through work or any personal endeavor.

Jupiter in your solar return chart can show you where you will experience the most expansion. I know Jupiter is the planet is luck & abundance, but I would say the word expansion is more appropriate as not everyone will assert that they felt ‘lucky’ in this area of life, during that year . If Jupiter is making trines, or sextiles to your Venus, Moon, Sun, Ascendant or Mars, you may very well feel very ‘ lucky’ in that year.

If you would like to see what sort of energy a specific place in the world will have for you, then Astrocartography is your best bet. You can pull it up on Astro.com. However, I’ve found that creating a relocation chart can help give you information about how YOU will behave in that location, and how other people will perceive you, Whereas, when you are looking up your astrocartography lines in certain areas of the world, I feel as if that represent external influences that will shape your experiences in that area of the world. I personally went abroad for college (haha I’m giving a little bit of information about myself in this post) I went to a country that’s very very far from my home country, and when I pulled up my relocation chart, I was quite shocked at the accuracy. I recommend looking at BOTH the relocation chart, and the lines that run through that area of the world for you, to make an accurate assessment.

I get so many messages asking if I do composite chart readings. I’ve decided to add them on my website if you’re interested 🤍 please don’t purchase this reading if you don’t have an accurate birth time for yourself or the person you are enquiring about, as this chart is highly dependent on accurate birth times.

#astrology tumblr #astrology #synastry #astrologyposts #astrology blog #astro thoughts #astrology observations #astro notes #astro tips #astro posts

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pumpkzsafeplace · 6 months

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anon asks💌: protecting your regression

making sure you’re content and safe when regressing is one of the most important things when it comes to little space.

your safety is everything both mentally and physically! so here are some tips n tricks to help 💗.

❀•°❀°•❀

tags & social media🌸

please ensure your social space is safe if you’re regressing on a public/social platform!

to help with this, ensure you’re interacting and surrounding yourself with the right people/ posts <3

sometimes post may sneak into specific tags and unfortunately that is out of our control :(, in those situations remember to block the user if you don’t want them interacting with you & remove the post from your trending page <3

❀•°❀°•❀

friends 🎀

sometimes friends don’t completely understand agere & that’s okay! everyone learns at different speeds <3

maybe wait on regressing around them until they’re completely caught up and comfortable too!

sadly, there will always be some people who are judgemental- don’t let their harsh words impact you okay? you’re completely valid for what you do and do your best to stay away <3

❀•°❀°•❀

surroundings 🌸

ensure your surroundings are safe too! public places by yourself may not be the safest to regress, maybe choose small & cosier places instead until you’re more comfortable, i.e bedrooms <3

❀•°❀°•❀

items 🎀

each person regressed differently!

if you’re prone to tantrums, maybe invest in some things that will decrease the risk of hurting yourself <3, for example mittens, softer surroundings, music to help block out the surround sound <3

❀•°❀°•❀

validation 🌸

no matter what anybody says your regression is completely valid! you are healing yourself one day at a time & we are all incredibly proud of you for being true to who you are! 💗

you’ll always be safe here!

gif isn’t mine

#agere blog #age regression #agere community #sfw age regression #sfw agere #safe agere #sfw little community #sfw little blog #agere little #sfw little post #age regression caregiver #age regressive #age re #age re caregiver #age re safe space #age re blog #sfw blog

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chans-room · 10 months

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Craving Connection — 2

Warnings: reader has nickname Sugar Plum, an obnoxious amount of flirting and sexual tension, Chan and Sugar Plum are whipped for each other like. Bad. Mutual pining, explicit protected sex with: hair pulling, biting/marking, scratching, so much dirty talk, finger sucking, waxing poetic about Chan’s body, mutual choking 🥴, semi-abrupt ending, some self sabotage and self depreciation at the v end it’s necessary for plot ok

Length: 6.1k

A/n: I’m sorry this has taken 8000 years. The next few parts are all (mostly) texts and they’re already done so I’ll be posting those weekly (maybe? If y’all want that?) and I’m already working on the next big written part. The biggest thank you to @eureka-its-zico and @keytomars for encouraging me not to delete this all of the times I threatened to 🫠 let me know if you want to be tagged!

Masterlist | Previous | Next

October 1, 2019 – 6:49pm

The first drop of rain splattering on her bare shoulder stopped her in her tracks, making her look up at the sky in contempt.

“Come on, we’re so close, we might be able to beat it,” Chan said encouragingly, tugging on their intertwined hands with a smile. They’d decided to go out despite the brewing storm, choosing to walk to a nearby bar that would turn into a club as the night went on; the distraction of loud music and a room full of strangers was necessary to keep her mind from both dwelling on Christian and lingering on Chan.

But Chan had quickly wiped all thoughts of anything but him from her mind – all she could think of was the warmth of Chan’s hand in hers and the way his shirt stretched around his chest. With every step, she regretted her decision to suggest going out more and more. All she really wanted was to do was get to know him.

“You know, we don’t have to go,” she said weakly, her words betraying her attempt to conceal the desire to be alone with him — a desire that had been building all day.

Chan smirked, shaking his head in disbelief, “You were the one who wanted to go out because, and I quote, ‘How boring would it be to spend my last few nights in Sydney sitting in a hotel room.’”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing, “I know, I know, and I still stand by that. I just don’t wanna get rained on and it’s definitely starting to rain.”

“Oh come on, Sugar Plum, it’s not even raining,” he teased, but it seemed as though his simple utterance had cursed them. Almost as soon as the last word left his mouth, it began to pour.

The shock of the cool October rain instantly drenching her pushed her forward, dragging Chan behind her to a stop under an awning.

She could feel the fabric of her dress clinging to her and her hair plastered to her shoulders, sending rivulets of water down her back and in between the valley of her breasts. Chan wasn’t faring much better — his curls were flat against his forehead, the sudden onslaught of rain had made them both look more like they’d been thrown overboard in the Sydney harbor instead of ready to go to a bar.

“Alright I’m calling it. We’re soaked, Channie,” she laughed, wringing out the hem of her dress for emphasis, “Let’s go back to the hotel, yeah?”

His frown deepened, eyebrows furrowing as he stared at the pavement. “But we said we wanted to go.”

“I know we did, but I don’t think either of us are gonna have fun if we’re cold and wet in a bar,” she rolled her eyes playfully, “If we go back, we can get some room service and watch some movies, doesn’t that sound so much better than being soggy and sad out in public?”

Chan chuckled dryly before nodding, “I guess you’re right.”

“There’s only one problem though,” she said solemnly, squeezing his hand. He raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. “We’ve gotta run back to the hotel now, and if you can’t catch me you’re buying dinner.”

She took off running in the opposite direction, laughing hysterically as she heard Chan sputter behind her. She’d never been more grateful she’d chosen to wear the chunky platform boots over the heels she had sitting by the door as she ran, puddles beginning to form on the concrete.

She hadn’t felt so free in so long — the entirety of her relationship with Christian felt so stifling and serious. He was always harping on her behavior, telling her she was acting childish or telling her to be an adult; she felt like she always had to be on her best behavior. But spending time with Chan made her feel light, unburdened in a way she couldn’t remember feeling in longer than she cared to admit.

She was so caught up in the feeling of it that she didn’t realize she had slipped on a particularly wet patch of pavement. The yelp tore out of her throat unconsciously, but before she could truly lose her balance, his arm was tightening around her waist and heaving her into his embrace.

“Jesus, sweetheart, be careful,” he sighed in her ear, skidding to a stop under the awning. The sharp chill of the spring rain ran through her; it definitely had nothing to do with his lips pressed against the skin behind her ear.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realize,” she said breathlessly as he set her back down on the dry ground.

“No worries,” he shrugged, “I’m just glad you didn’t get hurt. I mean, you do owe me dinner now,” he grinned smugly. She gasped, reaching forward to smack his arm when he grabbed her hand, using her momentum to toss her over his shoulder, giggling as he straightened up. “Now I can get us back to the room without you trying to dart away again.”

The fluttering feeling in her chest came back even stronger then; she was partially grateful he couldn't see her face. Not only were his actions something she had only imagined to happen in rom-coms, but the way he threw her around so effortlessly made her ears burn. Images of him throwing her around, his hands on her throat and skimming across her body filled her head.

She hadn’t realized they had made it back to the hotel until the ding! of the elevator door pulled her from her fantasies. “There’s nowhere for me to run away to now, Channie,” she laughed, kicking her legs.

“Alright alright, quit squirming, I don’t wanna drop you,” he said, tightening his grip on her thigh. She bit her lip to keep the needy whine in her chest, her body locking up tensely – the feeling of his fingers spread across her bare thigh and the way he squeezed her tender flesh reignited the flames of desire that tickled in her chest. “Good girl,” he murmured, making her eyes roll back. She figured there was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to her – not now at least, with his hand trapped between her thighs, further up than was decent while praising her. And for the second time that day, she could see a future for them in her mind.

Chan lowered her to the ground gently, crowding her into the wall of the elevator with one hand on her waist, and the other on the wall behind her head. She shivered, staring into his eyes, his pupils blown wide. “Channie, what are you–”

“Sugar Plum, I just–” he rasped, brushing his thumb across her cheek, but his sentence was cut off by a startled gasp from behind them.

“What are you two little devils doing in here?” a high pitched, shrill voice rang out, “And why are you so wet?”

They looked at each other for a second before breaking into laughter, Chan taking his hand in hers as he pulled her out of the elevator, past the old woman as she huffed indignantly.

The maze of hallways and the endless void of doors sped past them as Chan steered them toward their respective rooms, only stopping once the door was clicking shut heavily behind her. She hadn’t realized how cold she was until they’d stepped into the frigid confines of the luxurious room, or that she was shivering until Chan’s warm hand made contact with her shoulder, almost making her flinch.

“We should both shower, get warmed up, yeah?” He suggested with a small smile.

“Y-yeah, that s-sounds good,” she chattered through her teeth, “M-meet back in my r-room?”

Chan nodded, steering her by the shoulders through the door that joined their rooms. “Just knock and let me know when you’re done, then we’ll order room service and watch a movie.”

——

“Hey Channie, I need a favor,” her voice, muffled by the thick wooden door, pulled him from the mindless doom scrolling as he sat on the plush hotel bed. He pushed himself off the bed, shuffling the few steps toward where their rooms connected. Wordlessly, he pushed on the door, but it slammed back in his face, accompanied by a yelp.

“Sugar Plum, it's just me,” he laughed.

“I know, just don’t open the door! I-I need uh I need to borrow a shirt… if that’s okay,” she murmured. “Mine fell into a puddle and everything else is already being shipped to my new apartment and–”

“No worries, just give me a sec to grab one for you,” he chuckled, cutting her off. He already found himself endeared by her. He grabbed a shirt out of his bag randomly, sniffing it once to make sure it wasn’t dirty. “Sugar Plum, I have a shirt for you, but you’re gonna have to let me open the door to get it.”

He heard her huff, “Fine, but just–be fast, okay? It’s freezing in here and I’m basically naked.”

His mouth went dry and he could feel himself getting lightheaded — and hard — from the mere thought of her body on display for him. He wanted to know if she would be shy with her pleasure like she seemed to be in front of him, or if she would be loud and unashamed like he had seen glimpses of in her throughout the day. The fact that only 3 inches of wood were separating them weighed heavily in his mind – he could just go in there and find out for himself. But he couldn’t; he wouldn’t.

He forced himself to breathe, pushing the thought of her away as he cracked open the door and shoved the shirt through the opening. The tips of her fingernails brushed against the skin on the underside of his wrist as she took it from him. The small, breathy thank you, Channie made his heart race. He forced himself to take another rasping breath, adjusting himself in his shorts, before he pulled the door open the rest of the way.

Chan couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Rationally, he knew exactly what would happen when he handed her his shirt. That alone had been a test of his mental strength; but the sight of her in just a pair of tight black shorts, the expanse of her exposed back on display to him for a fraction of a second before the black material covered it was burned into his brain. It took every ounce of his self control not to pull his shirt right back off her body.

But she turned, looking at him over her shoulder with a smile, “Alright, come on, I promised you dinner. I’m starving,” she said, walking away from him.

For the moment, the illusion of domesticity filled him, being spun around his heart like cotton candy. Seeing her walk around the hotel room in his shirt, was a new level of temptation he hadn’t considered. Not only did it stoke an ugly, possessive flame in his chest, but the outline of her curves in his oversized shirt was going to send him to an early grave. That and her thighs. The soft, lush flesh was so unreasonably alluring he couldn’t think straight. He wanted to bury his face in between them, sink his teeth into the skin and leave marks that would last for days, feel them under his hands again, worship them for as long as she’d let him.

“Channie, come on,” she said, calling him over to the bed with a wave of her hand. The menu was sitting open in her lap, “I think I want a sandwich, what about you?”

He was frozen, standing in the doorway for a second then nodded absently, shuffling across the carpet toward her and plopping down into her bed next to her. Chan realized to survive being around her — being her friend and nothing more — he would simply have to run on autopilot until he could get his shit together. She didn’t need him awkwardly thirsting after her while she had no one but Felix and their friends. Sugar Plum trusted him, and he refused to let her down, especially after meeting her ex.

“Channie,” she whined, flopping backwards onto the bed, catching his attention, “You’ve been staring through the menu for like a full minute. Am I that boring?”

He laughed, shaking his head, pulling the menu out of her grasp, “No, you're just hogging it and I can’t see!”

She gasped, her head shooting up off the bed to give him a playful glare, “Don’t test your luck, Christopher Bang Chan, or you’ll get no dinner from me, sir.”

He fought every instinct to groan at the way she said it, the word sir tumbling out of her mouth so brattily and prettily, choosing to roll his eyes and direct his attention to the menu in his lap. But the words on the page may as well have been in Russian – he couldn’t process a single thing. But he swallowed his feelings and waved his hand in her direction, “Find something to watch while I look, yeah?” She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Unless you want to stare at me while we eat,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She let her head drop back again, eyes filling with tears as she cackled, “No, no, I’ll find something! Just hurry up, I’m fuckin’ starving, Channie.”

——

She had no idea Chan could be so cute even when he was totally in his own world. Truth be told, she barely even knew what the main character’s name was in the movie she had started – she was too entranced by the way his curly hair hung over his eyebrows, and how he narrowed his eyes at the screen every couple of minutes when something interesting happened. She hated it; how could he be so attractive by just existing?

It was only made worse by the tank top that showed off his incredibly toned arms – and a peak of his sculpted chest – and basketball shorts he had on that were constantly riding up his muscular thighs. By the time they had finished dinner she was practically salivating, and it was only getting worse by the minute.

At the 50th adorable nose scrunch and giggle combination, she finally cracked. “Hey, so, I just wanted to thank you, uh, again, for earlier. With Christian, you know, my ex. That really meant a lot to me, you know.”

He seemed to curl in on himself a little, almost shy as he fidgeted in his seat before replying, “It’s nothing, really. I fuckin’ hate that he did that to you. And I stand by what I said earlier; he’s lucky he ran into us, and not Felix, because that would have been bad.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, nodding at his assessment. “I’m not looking forward to telling him about Christian though. He’s going to want blood.”

“I mean, you don’t have to tell him, if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head, “No, I will. I can’t keep a secret from him for my life, not even when we were kids. He just looks at me and it's like he can see through me, you know?”

Chan nodded, “He does the same thing to me, I think that’s just his super power. He’s like a human lie detector,” he laughed.

“You’re so right,” she laughed with him, shuffling down in her seat and turning toward him, the movie abandoned in their periphery now. “One time, in like, primary school, I didn’t want him to know I had gotten in a fight with my friend who I knew he hated and I tried so hard to keep it together, but he took one look at me and he just knew.”

“He’s so good at that!” Chan giggled, “I was upset with Changbin and Jeongin for messing around too much at practice one day, and he took one look at me and knew! Like I didn’t say a word and he looked at me and was like ‘Don’t be too hard on them, we’re all just stressed about midterms, and practice is their time to relax and get away from the pressure.’ I was so stunned I stopped being mad at them all together!” Chan said, turning toward her, his eyes closed from his smile and dimples on full display.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, catching his lips with her own. His lips were just as plush and soft as she had imagined them to be. He smelled faintly like minty toothpaste but still tasted sweet like the ice cream they shared after dinner. His hands gripping her waist made her gasp and pull back, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry Chan, I didn’t mean to–”

Chan scoffed and surged forward, planting his mouth against hers firmly as he pulled her body closer to him, mumbling out, “Not sorry, wanted this all day, want you.”

She let herself sink into his touch, running her hands over the expanse of his broad shoulders and down his muscular back, allowing her hands to explore him the way she’d been dreaming of all day. He was so warm, heat radiating through his shirt into her palms.

Chan detached his mouth from hers, trailing his lips down her throat with small nips to her skin, “Pull my hair again, baby,” he sighed, tightening his arms around her waist.

“Okay, Channie,” she groaned, snaking her hand into his pretty curls. She applied a bit of pressure, pulling on the strands from the root. His shaking breath on her collarbone made her smirk, deciding to pull a bit harder. The breathy half-moan half-whine that tumbled out of his mouth made her mouth water.

“Fuck, so pretty, taste so good,” he groaned into her skin before sinking his teeth into the thin skin of her neck. Her hips involuntarily pitched forward, grinding against his length with a gasp. “Pretty girl,” he cooed, pulling back from her neck, “Do you wanna feel good? Want Channie to make you feel good?”

She nodded, swiveling her hips and chasing after his mouth with her own as he shimmied down the bed, her hands pulling at the neck of his shirt. She needed it to come off him — now.

“Be patient, baby, I’ll give you anything you want, you just gotta ask. Channie will do whatever you want,” he rasped, pulling his shirt off over his head before settling back onto the pillows behind him. The sight of his bare chest laid out below her had her stunned.

“God that’s not fair,” she pouted, staring down at his chest — the toned muscle of his abs was almost mocking, especially her paired with the firm yet plush pecs she wanted to sink her teeth into. She had to get it together; Chan was still a stranger. She didn’t need to broadcast how swiftly he turned her into a feral simp in less than a day; even though she was pretty sure he knew just how into him she was.

“I’m not fair?” Chan scoffed, “you’re sitting on my dick wearing my shirt. If anything isn’t fair, it’s that.” The absolute conviction on his eyes as he stared at her gave her butterflies — there was no questioning if he meant it. But something about it felt like the nicest compliment she’d ever received. “Do you know how much of an impossible choice you’ve given me though? Because I want you to keep it on but I’m also dying to see all of you and this is a fucking problem.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head softly, “How about this?” She asked, ghosting her fingers down her sides to grasp the hem of the shirt, pulling it up slowly. His eyes widened, a hand reaching out to splay across her stomach almost chasing the hem as it drifted upward. She stopped just shy of exposing herself, Chan’s fingertips sliding under the fabric just enough to make contact with the skin of her breasts.

“You don’t have to, we can just—“ he began, but choked on air when she pulled the material higher. The crisp air conditioning and the hunger in his eyes gave her goosebumps.

“It’s called building anticipation, Channie. You have to work for it. I have to know you want it before I give you the whole thing,” she smiled innocently, taking the hem between her teeth.

He stared at her for a second, pupils dilating as they darted across her form, going from her face to her tits and back, unable to stay in one place. The way his eyes devoured her made her ears burn, and she could feel the fabric of her thong dampening where she sat, perched on his hardening cock. Then, his eyes locked with hers and a grin spread across his face, “Can I touch you?” He asked, making her nod, “Then stay just like that then, baby.”

His wet, pink lips making contact with her bare skin surprised her, pulling a gasp from her mouth. His fingers ghosted up and down her sides, eventually trailing down her back to rest on her ass, fingertips sneaking just under the hem of her shorts while his big hands kneaded into the dimpled skin.

Her arms tightened around him, holding him in his place as he sucked purple bruises into her chest; bright cascading marks across both of her breasts and sternum. Then, she felt his breath on her nipple, the warmth of it compared to the glacial air pouring into the room from the air conditioner was enough to have a fresh set of goosebumps break out across her skin. But his plush lips closing around the stiff bud made her squeal, accidentally pulling on his hair harder than she intended and forcing him to release her nipple with a wet pop.

She looked down at him, an apology on her lips, but the look on his face stopped her. His eyes were shut, and his mouth hung open in a soundless moan. Only then did she feel the way his hands were grasping her, knuckles white as they knotted themselves in the fabric of her shorts.

The image of him, so utterly wrecked under her hands, because of her, was burned into her brain. She would never forget the way he looked in this moment — it was electrifying. Her mouth dropped open in shock, the hem of his shirt falling onto the tops of her breasts, as she watched his jaw snap shut, the tendons and veins of his neck popping as his eyes flew open. His gaze seemed to pin her down as he heaved out a breath, refusing to break eye contact with her.

The silence made her shiver, the wet spot on her shorts growing as the tension in the room seemed to thicken, “Are you okay?”

He nodded, eyebrows narrowing when he saw the hem of his shirt start to fall, covering her tits. “I told you to stay like that, pretty girl. Channie wants to make you feel good.” With that, he pulled the fabric back up, exposing her.

The white hot burn of his words roared in her ears as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers again, slower this time, sucking her lip in between his teeth before giving her a sharp nip. The zing of pleasure pain ripped up her spine, making her gasp and eyes flutter shut. She felt the cotton of his shirt on her tongue, taking that as her cue to take it between her teeth again.

“Now, am I allowed to fuck you, my sweet Sugar Plum?” His syrupy voice made her head spin, the please she managed to whine out was muffled by his shirt. But his chuckle let her know he understood.

For a second she was weightless before her back hit the mattress with a small oof. She opened her eyes, unable to suppress the giggle at the sight of Chan with a condom wrapper still stuck between his teeth as he rolled it on his cock, standing at the edge of the bed with his clothes strewn behind him.

“Don’t laugh, you’re next,” he grinned, reaching over to her. Chan tugged her shorts and underwear off with a single decisive yank before flinging them behind him.

He hovered over her, eyes roaming her bare form, his free hand tracing patterns into her skin. She could tell he was stuck in his own head — probably filtering through the same scenarios as hers was. She sighed fondly, pushing him off onto his back, making him lay down where he had been before.

He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him by crawling back onto his lap, perched perfectly over his cock. She had felt its size before, but now, feeling it against her without the barrier of clothing, it made her eyes roll back in pleasure. Chan seemed content to let her take control for the moment, hands free to roam and grasp whatever he desired as she trailed her nails up his neck softly, relishing in the hiss that came out of his mouth.

She smiled, grinding down on him with an experimental roll of her hips, both hands gripping his chest, to both steady herself and to feel the muscle under her hands. The satisfied moan caught in her throat, the friction being nearly too much to handle after all the buildup of tension.

“Fuck. You’re so good,” he nearly purred, one of his gorgeous, massive hands holding onto her hips. “So good for me,” he cooed, pushing the thumb of his free hand past her lips.

She ground down on his erection, spit leaking from the corner of her mouth lewdly as he pushed down on her tongue with the pad of his finger, keeping her head still while the other directed her hips.

“Gonna fuck you now, s’that okay baby?” He slurred, his head tipping back as he bucked his hips into hers unconsciously. She nodded, mewls of approval falling from her open mouth making him laugh. A pleased hum left him as he stared at her, removing his thumb from between her lips with a pop. “Ready?”

She nodded absently, too fixated on the golden expanse of his forearms to properly retain any of the words he was saying. Illuminated only by the long forgotten movie, his hands were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The veins and tendons coiling under the skin, wide palms that bled into long, thick gorgeous fingers, which just so happened to be holding something else long and thick, something she wanted nearly as much as his hands: his cock. Hard and leaking pearly beads of pre cum that made her drool and her pussy clench in excitement.

“I told you, just ask and Channie will do it,” he smiled, aligning his cock with her entrance, the blunt head pressed against her firmly.

She nodded, her nails digging into his chest as her eyes rolled back, feeling him press into her slowly; the stretch was almost painful but felt so satisfying. She choked on her groan, fingers tightening in his hair. She could have sworn she felt him in the back of her throat he was hitting so deep.

Without thinking, she pulled herself almost all the way off him before dropping back into his lap forcefully, ripping deep, low moans out of the both of them. “Do it again,” he whispered as she began riding him desperately.

“Fucking Christ, you’re unreal,” he praised, his hips meeting her thrusts evenly. Her mouth fell open, unable to stop the whines that poured out of her.

“Channie,” she moaned shamelessly, her eyes fluttering shut as he pounded into her. All at once, she was overwhelmed; the sweat beading on her shoulders and the feeling of the ribbed cotton rustling against her sensitive, purple bitten skin. She struggled to grasp the fabric, fighting to pull it off her body, before pleading to him, “Need it off, please.”

She felt weightless for a second as he flipped them over, her back now on the mattress. She hadn’t even realized he had managed to pull the shirt off her until she felt the soft, silky sheets under her. “Good?” He asked.

Her simple nod was all he needed to resume. The sheer force of his thrusts forced the sounds out of her — desperate, whiny, needy little moans that would have made her embarrassed on any other day — the ability to speak no longer in her grasp. She could feel the knot tightening in her abdomen, turning to bury her face in the pillow to muffle her scream as she came undone but only found Chan’s wrist planted into the mattress next to her.

She shook as the waves of her orgasm wracked through her body, a high pitched squeal wrenching out of her vocal cords. Without thinking, she bit down on his forearm, suppressing the obscene and delirious sound of her orgasm crashing into her.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re so hot,” he groaned, his thrusts shallowing as he worked her through her orgasm.

The soft, genuine affirmations from him were more meaningful than anything she had been told in the entirety of her previous relationship. It made her heart flutter helplessly against her ribcage; she was smitten. Chan had wormed his way into her head and her heart and that simple fact terrified her, but for some reason, she was also put at ease. It might have been the fact that Felix trusted him, or the fact that he was so effortlessly nice to her without seemingly any reason, but she had no doubt Chan would never hurt her like Christian had.

Once the sparks of overstimulation faded, she sighed, opening her eyes to meet Chan’s soft gaze. “You okay, Sugar Plum?” She nodded, smiling up at him dazedly, “Do you wanna stop? Or can I—“

“Keep going, Channie,” she croaked, letting the soft buzzing glow of her first orgasm fade as he began to move. His pace was much slower than before, more deliberate and tender. It gave her the opportunity to study his face, hovering inches above hers. She wanted to memorize it all; the slightly overgrown slit in his eyebrow, the two small holes under his lip — one in the center and the other in the left corner — she assumed from piercings, the glint of silver in his nostril. The affection growing in her chest became overwhelming, tightening around her heart like a corset. She had to close her eyes, hoping it would stop the emotions from clawing up her throat.

“Open your eyes for me, Sugar Plum,” he pleaded into her ear, his teeth grazing her ear. “Look at me, baby.”

She keened, all of the sensations coming back to her at once as she opened her eyes. His fingertips against her scalp, the undeniable fullness, his sharp puffs of air against her cheek, his taught stomach against her thighs.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, hovering over her for a moment, staring into her eyes as he caressed her face softly, his dimples beginning to show. She couldn’t force words out, each one dying on her lips, so she grabbed the hand he had spread out across her ribs and pushed it up to wrap around her neck gingerly. He flexed his fingers experimentally, tightening ever so slightly. Her body reacted immediately, her walls fluttering against his length. In response, her hand slithered up his torso to rest against his thick neck. She could feel his heart racing under her fingertips, stretched out almost painfully wide against him. The shuddering breath she got from him was all the confirmation she needed. He shivered, and groaned, snapping his hips into hers before rasping out, “God you’re fucking everything.”

She felt him chuckle darkly as her second orgasm approached fast, her vision nearly going black with the force of its impending devastation as he resumed his thrusts. Her only tether to reality was Chan’s hand on her throat and hers on his.

“Fuck, kiss me, please,” she croaked, pulling him closer as her orgasm tore through her like a tidal wave.

He groaned, his hips stuttering to a stop as he collapsed onto her, his lips finding hers as if they were drawn together like magnets. “Fucking incredible,” Chan mumbled into her lips before dropping himself onto her like a weighted blanket.

They spent the next few minutes like that; he busied himself with casting a constellation of featherlight kisses up her neck and across her cheeks as she trailed her fingers down his spine, basking in the afterglow. The momentary disconnection from reality has stopped her brain to mouth filter from working, and she blurted out, “I’m glad you thought to wear a condom. Calling the front desk for new sheets would be a pain in the ass.”

Chan stopped mid kiss, raising an eyebrow in her direction as he looked at her through his eyelashes before his shoulders began to shake with laughter. “Why was that even a thought right now?”

“I don’t know! That’s just what I was thinking! I’m sorry you fucked the filter out of my brain!” She whined covering her face with her hands.

“No, don’t be shy, the only reason I’m keeping my mouth busy down here is so I don’t say something stupid,” he cooed. She peaked at him from between her fingers, watching the realization of his words spread across his face as he cringed, then buried himself in her stomach. “Don’t laugh at me, I'm sensitive.”

Chan’s embarrassed mumbles into her skin and the unintentional hilarity of his, and her own, words made giggles bubble out of her. “No, it was cute, and I’m ticklish,” she argued.

His head snapped up, a devious look on his face. But before she could protest, Chan’s phone was blaring an unfamiliar ringtone from somewhere on the floor behind him.

Suddenly, the bubble they had created popped, and the harsh reality seeped into her. Chan was still a relative stranger despite how trustworthy and genuine he seemed to be, she was still dealing with the emotional devastation of her previous relationship’s spontaneous implosion, and they had breached an unspoken rule less than 24 hours after meeting one another: Felix was still Chan’s friend and roommate, and the last thing she ever wanted to do was cause problems between them. And she knew all she ever did was cause problems.

She had to shut off whatever part of herself that was developing feelings for him. He was too kind, too caring, and too wonderful for her to diminish. This one time would have to be enough for her, for them.

“I should see who that is,” Chan whispered, planting one last kiss on her sternum. She watched him slip off the bed, finding his phone with relative ease before bringing it up to his ear. “Hello?”

The absolute panic on his face made her blood run cold — it meant only one thing. Felix was calling.

“Yeah mate, you lost your room key?” His voice bordered on panicked, but she wondered if that was just her own panic seeping into her. “Oh, and they won’t give you one without her approval? Okay…” he nodded, gathering his clothes from the floor, an apologetic look cast in her direction before he froze. “You’re down the hall? Okay, uh, I’ll open the door for you, no worries. Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s asleep. See you soon.” He threw his phone on the bed, stepping into his shorts hastily.

“Go, and close the door behind you! He won’t ask any questions,” she hissed, pulling the sheet up to cover her body.

Chan frowned at her, perching himself back into the bed on his knees next to her, “I don’t like leaving you like this, it feels wrong.”

She chuckled, feeling the bittersweet stab in her chest. In another life, Chan would have been her ideal partner. “I’m okay. Go, you don’t have time for this.”

He frowned, but nodded, “I know. I don’t like it though,” he whispered, before leaning forward, pressing his lips to hers again hurriedly. “Goodnight, Sugar Plum. I’ll see you in a few days.”

With that, he pushed himself off the bed, and jogged the distance to the connecting door, throwing one last look at her over his shoulder before disappearing. Leaving her to mourn the what-if’s and what-could-have-been's alone. The way she’d always been.

---

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Taglist: @bibbykins @j-a-nuary @eureka-its-zico @gimmethatagustd @skyys-universe @lovemepie67 @whiplaaaaaaaaash @enaluvs @only-goose

#stray kids smau #stray kids smut #bang Chan smau #bang Chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan fic #stray kids fic #stray kids #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x you #craving connection #skz fic #skz smau #skz smut

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snickerdoodlles · 9 months

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pulling out a section from this post (a very basic breakdown of generative AI) for easier reading;

AO3 and Generative AI

There are unfortunately some massive misunderstandings in regards to AO3 being included in LLM training datasets. This post was semi-prompted by the ‘Knot in my name’ AO3 tag (for those of you who haven’t heard of it, it’s supposed to be a fandom anti-AI event where AO3 writers help “further pollute” AI with Omegaverse), so let’s take a moment to address AO3 in conjunction with AI. We’ll start with the biggest misconception:

1. AO3 wasn’t used to train generative AI.

Or at least not anymore than any other internet website. AO3 was not deliberately scraped to be used as LLM training data.

The AO3 moderators found traces of the Common Crawl web worm in their servers. The Common Crawl is an open data repository of raw web page data, metadata extracts and text extracts collected from 10+ years of web crawling. Its collective data is measured in petabytes. (As a note, it also only features samples of the available pages on a given domain in its datasets, because its data is freely released under fair use and this is part of how they navigate copyright.) LLM developers use it and similar web crawls like Google’s C4 to bulk up the overall amount of pre-training data.

AO3 is big to an individual user, but it’s actually a small website when it comes to the amount of data used to pre-train LLMs. It’s also just a bad candidate for training data. As a comparison example, Wikipedia is often used as high quality training data because it’s a knowledge corpus and its moderators put a lot of work into maintaining a consistent quality across its web pages. AO3 is just a repository for all fanfic -- it doesn’t have any of that quality maintenance nor any knowledge density. Just in terms of practicality, even if people could get around the copyright issues, the sheer amount of work that would go into curating and labeling AO3’s data (or even a part of it) to make it useful for the fine-tuning stages most likely outstrips any potential usage.

Speaking of copyright, AO3 is a terrible candidate for training data just based on that. Even if people (incorrectly) think fanfic doesn’t hold copyright, there are plenty of books and texts that are public domain that can be found in online libraries that make for much better training data (or rather, there is a higher consistency in quality for them that would make them more appealing than fic for people specifically targeting written story data). And for any scrapers who don’t care about legalities or copyright, they’re going to target published works instead. Meta is in fact currently getting sued for including published books from a shadow library in its training data (note, this case is not in regards to any copyrighted material that might’ve been caught in the Common Crawl data, its regarding a book repository of published books that was scraped specifically to bring in some higher quality data for the first training stage). In a similar case, there’s an anonymous group suing Microsoft, GitHub, and OpenAI for training their LLMs on open source code.

Getting back to my point, AO3 is just not desirable training data. It’s not big enough to be worth scraping for pre-training data, it’s not curated enough to be considered for high quality data, and its data comes with copyright issues to boot. If LLM creators are saying there was no active pursuit in using AO3 to train generative AI, then there was (99% likelihood) no active pursuit in using AO3 to train generative AI.

AO3 has some preventative measures against being included in future Common Crawl datasets, which may or may not work, but there’s no way to remove any previously scraped data from that data corpus. And as a note for anyone locking their AO3 fics: that might potentially help against future AO3 scrapes, but it is rather moot if you post the same fic in full to other platforms like ffn, twitter, tumblr, etc. that have zero preventative measures against data scraping.

2. A/B/O is not polluting generative AI

…I’m going to be real, I have no idea what people expected to prove by asking AI to write Omegaverse fic. At the very least, people know A/B/O fics are not exclusive to AO3, right? The genre isn’t even exclusive to fandom -- it started in fandom, sure, but it expanded to general erotica years ago. It’s all over social media. It has multiple Wikipedia pages.

More to the point though, omegaverse would only be “polluting” AI if LLMs were spewing omegaverse concepts unprompted or like…associated knots with dicks more than rope or something. But people asking AI to write omegaverse and AI then writing omegaverse for them is just AI giving people exactly what they asked for. And…I hate to point this out, but LLMs writing for a niche the LLM trainers didn’t deliberately train the LLMs on is generally considered to be a good thing to the people who develop LLMs. The capability to fill niches developers didn’t even know existed increases LLMs’ marketability. If I were a betting man, what fandom probably saw as a GOTCHA moment, AI people probably saw as a good sign of LLMs’ future potential.

3. Individuals cannot affect LLM training datasets.

So back to the fandom event, with the stated goal of sabotaging AI scrapers via omegaverse fic.

…It’s not going to do anything.

Let’s add some numbers to this to help put things into perspective:

LLaMA’s 65 billion parameter model was trained on 1.4 trillion tokens. Of that 1.4 trillion tokens, about 67% of the training data was from the Common Crawl (roughly ~3 terabytes of data).

3 terabytes is 3,000,000,000 kilobytes.

That’s 3 billion kilobytes.

According to a news article I saw, there has been ~450k words total published for this campaign (*this was while it was going on, that number has probably changed, but you’re about to see why that still doesn’t matter). So, roughly speaking, ~450k of text is ~1012 KB (I’m going off the document size of a plain text doc for a fic whose word count is ~440k).

So 1,012 out of 3,000,000,000.

Aka 0.000034%.

And that 0.000034% of 3 billion kilobytes is only 2/3s of the data for the first stage of training.

And not to beat a dead horse, but 0.000034% is still grossly overestimating the potential impact of posting A/B/O fic. Remember, only parts of AO3 would get scraped for Common Crawl datasets. Which are also huge! The October 2022 Common Crawl dataset is 380 tebibytes. The April 2021 dataset is 320 tebibytes. The 3 terabytes of Common Crawl data used to train LLaMA was randomly selected data that totaled to less than 1% of one full dataset. Not to mention, LLaMA’s training dataset is currently on the (much) larger size as compared to most LLM training datasets.

I also feel the need to point out again that AO3 is trying to prevent any Common Crawl scraping in the future, which would include protection for these new stories (several of which are also locked!).

Omegaverse just isn’t going to do anything to AI. Individual fics are going to do even less. Even if all of AO3 suddenly became omegaverse, it’s just not prominent enough to influence anything in regards to LLMs. You cannot affect training datasets in any meaningful way doing this. And while this might seem really disappointing, this is actually a good thing.

Remember that anything an individual can do to LLMs, the person you hate most can do the same. If it were possible for fandom to corrupt AI with omegaverse, fascists, bigots, and just straight up internet trolls could pollute it with hate speech and worse. AI already carries a lot of biases even while developers are actively trying to flatten that out, it’s good that organized groups can’t corrupt that deliberately.

#generative ai #pulling this out wasnt really prompted by anything specific #so much as heard some repeated misconceptions and just #sighs #nope #incorrect #u got it wrong #sorry #unfortunately for me: no consistent tag to block #sigh #ao3

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vonnythemuse · 2 months

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I am 15.000 days old today.

I woke up early this morning, or rather, this night; not because I set my alarm, but because I needed to go to the bathroom. While there I remembered I had seen a post on tumblr just as i went to bed last night, on self defense for a specific target group that I wanted to read, but had failed to save.

I decided to search for it using a tag I expected to be in there, because I was still kinda sleepy. Instead I found that tumblr had nuked the account of a user, after this user had complained for a year or so about continual harassment, on the basis of mislabelled sexual imagery (fully clothes transition pictures).

I got sucked into this narrative, even though I don't know any of the people involved. I only use the platform of this CEO who decided to have a public meltdown on this topic, citing a post by said nuked account concerning hammers and exploding cars in a very tumblr-esque way, which wasn't cited in the ban report. But this hardly makes me an expert on the situation at hand.

I see lots of posts, of many people, showing solidarity. Pictures of their own transition to see if they'll get banned too.

Should I show my solidarity this way? My own transition is so long ago, the programs used to store my current photos didn't even exist yet. I'd have to go home and take a picture of an old photo, lying forgotten in a cabinet.

Oh, yes. I've turned 15.000 days and I'm not at home reading this, I'm on holiday, reading about how a website I've not been using for that long didn't seem as supportive of who and what I am as they claim to be. No surprise there, I've seen this before, I'll see it again. I think of my younger friends, who just started their own transition process, and wish it didn't have to be like this. That I didn't have to see this again, that they'd never have to see it.

I read all this, huddled half under my blanket. I don't want to wake my wife, she'll just tell me to not read this kind of stuff. Turn away, keep my head down. I get it, she's not under threat, and in my daily life I can be pretty open about who i am and who I was, with friends and even at work. I'm privileged in that way, having experienced only minor harassment in my real life, and tell myself that this isn't because I learned very quickly which places to avoid and when and how to keep my head down. Being open about who i am feels like an act of rebellion sometimes. I hope, and genuinely think, that doing this allows my colleagues to experience that we're just normal, kind people too. That I'm doing my part in some small way.

I'm 15.000 days old today, and I wonder when walking across the street and being in public becomes dangerous to me too. Like, more dangerous than it already is. Mixed in with the posts I read this morning, are reports of the death of a non-binary kid of 16, bullied to death in the United States. What a world to live in. What a world to be 15.000 days old in.

My alarm goes off, my normal work day alarm because even if I'm on holiday i prefer to keep my sleep schedule intact. I get out of bed, letting my wife sleep a bit longer. I greet my family in law, with whom we're on holiday with. I don't tell them about what I've read either, they will understand my worries even less.

I'm 15.000 days old today, and I worry about the future, and I worry about my friends and my friends' future, what it has in store for them.

But worrying about my friends also makes me think about my friends. How kind and supportive they are. How kind and supportive I can be for them. How I can maybe be the role model I never had, even though times have changed so much I have no idea how any of this works anymore.

I think of my friends, and feel warmth and solidarity. So here's to them being amazing, and me being amazing, and it's being amazing together. What a world to be 15.000 days old in.

And I write a post about hammers and exploding cars because I don't have my old pictures at hand.

#trans #transgender #lgbtq+#lgbtq #poetry ????#vonn.txt #predestrogen #predstrogen #hopigotthetagright #trans rights #nex benedict

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the-s-exy-squad · 6 months

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Foxes Headcanons (Modern Day: Social Media Edition)

•Neil Josten uses social media after canon.

^ he posts the most vague shit ever and dark humor posts. He also has an anonymous hate page full of Riko Moriyama being clumsy or clips from the game where he lost against the foxes.

^^ he uses audios on TikTok and other socials that imply he’s fallen for someone he was on a team with and just lets the fan base assume it was Matt bc the whole Andrew/Neil rivalry. He likes to see reactions.

•Andrew starts to do art to express himself.

^He has a few anonymous art accounts throughout a few platforms and posts like twice a week on each. Hes really popular on TikTok and insta.

^^Neil stumbles across his content and realizes it’s him because he posted a picture he drew and sat on his dresser. Neil doesn’t tell him but frequently visits the accounts bc he wants to see Andrews art but knows he isn’t comfortable sharing in person or he would have.

•Matt and Dan would be influencers.

^ Matt mostly does sports equipment rating and reviews but he also does goofy ass videos with the rest of the foxes. Dan would do a lot about woman rights and activism in general. Big supporter of the LBGTQ.

^^ I like to think they’d occasionally do videos where Dan reviews make up products but uses them on Matt instead. They’re usually silly.

•Aaron takes pictures of every drink he gets from Starbucks and is obsessed. He is a Starbucks girly and has over 200000 pts on the app.

^He saves the pts to use when he’s desperate and for whatever reason didn’t have his wallet on hand.

^^^Starbucks deadass sponsors him.

•Kevin doesn’t do socials and just hired people to run accounts for him.

^ He does the photo shoots and tells them specifically what photos to use. He also puts interview clips so people often time think they’re just fan accounts.

^^he also records and post one singular video a month on his TikTok about upcoming games which serves as reminder that it isn’t a fan account.

•Allison uses her reach as a Sport player to advertise her clothing line.

^ She she has posts with lines such as casual wear, athletic wear, business casual/proffesional wear, and normalizes business making plus size clothes.

^^ she makes a few different lines for her friends and never posts them or sells them to the public. This includes armbands for Andrew, bandanas for Neil, one of a kind pride outfits for all the gay bitches on the team (let’s be real they’re all fruity), fox themed shirts for casual wear (even after they stop playing for the foxes)

•Seth hates social media and doesn’t have any.

^ He MIGHT have another fox run one for him and doesn’t interact at all.

^^ He lets the other foxes post him on their socials but doesn’t want one of his own.

•Rene does a lot of advocacy things on hers.

^ She shares her story about how Christianity and exy helped her.

^^ She doesn’t want to seem like she’s forcing Christianity. She says “having any kind of faith”

•Nicky posts a lot of random shit

^vlogs, funny sports clips, pride stuff. Videos of him and Erik.

^^ He gets the twins in a few and they’re just glaring with such a “I can’t handle you anymore. You should have put me up for adoption /hj” face directed at him and there’s a few comments saying “wait… they’re both making the face. Which is which?”

#all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #kevin day #nicky hemmick #dan wilds #aftg #matt boyd #allison reynolds #seth gordon #renee walker

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crearuru · 3 days

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new chuggaconroy thread came out today and im glad to have been proven right with time but still disappointed yall leapt at the chance to smear an autistic mexican man as a sexual predator for RECEIVING sexual harassment from a minor then disconnecting from the situation out of discomfort (all you people who were saying "why didnt he leave the situation he was the adult": turns out he did leave the situation. Bc he was the adult. And he knew it would be wrong for him to engage so he didnt. He instead cut contact for over a decade, while the other person kept posting publicly about how she wanted to kidnap and rape him, without the "excuse" of it being a quote from a youtube video that had been making the rounds at the time), all the while yall platformed his first accuser who claimed he was being predatory while he consistently asked for consent and was told yes at every ocassion and he had sorted it out and backed off as soon as she said no like a year before all this started. if you people think minors cant be sex offenders, let alone sexual harassers, youve never seen the sick and twisted state of big city american public schooling and i hope you never, ever have to feel what its like (or have to have family feel what its like!) to grow up the weak kid in the locker room. When people say "school is like a prison" it doesnt just apply to the schedules.

#chuggaaconroy

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ladymunson · 7 months

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The Boss Series 18+

Chapter Four: The Banquet

Fic Summary: You’re a secretary at Andy’s law firm, indulging in a rough sex situation with your boss. You know it’s wrong, but it feels so right.

A/N: Here it is, the finale of The Boss, I hope you’ve all enjoyed this little slice of smut. MINORS DNI 18+

Warnings: Unequal power dynamic, oral sex (M receiving), swallowing, semi public unprotected p in v sex (be safe people!), creampie.

Word count: 1983

Series Masterlist

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You awaken at 4am, Andy is still sleeping soundly beside you. You gently get out of the bed and go to the bathroom, turning on the shower. You step inside to wash away the evidence of last nights sins, before wrapping yourself in a towel.

You walk into the lounge and pick up your bag, taking out the dress you packed before leaving home and quickly dressing. You let yourself out of the house and head to the car, driving into work early so you can apply make up before anyone else arrives. You’re sitting at your desk when Andy arrives at 7am.

He walks into your office. “I woke up alone,” he says, and you can see the disappointment on his face.

“I wanted to make a head start Sir, it is the banquet today and I have to make sure it all goes off without a hitch.”

“Make a ten-minute space in your day for me, we have something to discuss.” He demands.

You check your schedule. “I have twenty minutes free just before midday Sir.”

“I’ll see you in my office then. Be a good girl.” He turns around and leaves. You write yourself a post it, a reminder to go to Andy’s office at 11:45, stick it to the computer monitor and start the days work.

You begin making phone calls, checking to see if everything is arranged for this evening. You call the venue that has been booked for the banquet, the caterer, the wine merchant, the band and the DJ. Arranging an engagement party is harder than it looks but it seems to be going swimmingly you think to yourself. By 10am you’ve made all the calls you needed to, and everything is looking good, so you take a moment to grab a coffee.

Back at your desk by 10:05 just as the phone rings, you answer. “Good morning, Langdon, Waters and Barber, how may I help you?”

“Hey y/n, it’s Caroline.” The voice on the line says.

“Hi Caroline, how are you?” You reply.

“I’m great actually, any chance I could speak to Andy?” She asks.

“One moment, let me make sure he’s not in a meeting. One sec, I’ll put you on the executive hold.” You press the hold button and dial the extension for Andy’s office.

“Yes?” His voice is so sexy and makes your pussy tingle.

“Sorry to bother you Sir but Caroline is holding on line two.” You can hear the eye roll over the phone before he even sighs.

“Can’t she wait until tonight at the party?”

“But Sir, she’s your...” You reply.

He sighs. “Very well, put her through...”

At 11:45 you apply fresh lipstick and slide your feet back into your stilettos before making your way to his office. You knock on the door and wait a moment, then hear a booming voice say “Enter.” You open the door, step inside and close the door behind yourself, making sure to lock it before going over to the desk. You don’t sit, not without permission. “Come here.” He asks, you round the desk and stand before him, looking at the floor. “Please look at me.” You hear the sadness in his voice, you look up into his beautiful blue eyes, tinged with a bit of green, like the ocean. Instead of hunger, you see fear in them. “Tell me I’m making the right decision.”

“Sir?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No Sirs, I’ve called you in here as an equal! We’re just y/n and Andy now, no Sir or Princess okay?” He pleads.

Geez, he’s really rattled. “Okay.” You reply. His arms reach out and grab ahold of you, pulling you into an actual hug. You hug him back as tight as you can, hoping to reassure him.

“I think you need to do whatever makes you happy.” You say, he squeezes you tighter.

“Will you be happy?” He asks as he releases you from his arms.

You swallow hard. “If you’re happy I’m happy. Question is... Do you want to get married?”

“Yes, I do. I’m in love, of course I want to get married.” Is his reply.

“Then that’s all that matters.” You smile a mischievous smile. “One last blowjob as a bachelor?”

“You read my mind” he grins.

You undo Andy’s belt as he kisses you, holding you close. You unzip his pants and drop to your knees, pulling out his magnificent cock. He’s only semi hard, but that won’t last long. He looks down at your manicured fingers around his cock, he moans and, in an instant, becomes fully hard.

You kiss the tip, flicking your tongue over the head of him before taking him in your mouth. He pushes his pants down to his knees, releasing his heavy balls. You take him deeper, sucking hard as you fondle his balls. You stop sucking his cock to take one of his balls in your mouth, sucking and flicking your tongue over it. You release it with a pop before moving on to the other one, repeating the action until he grunts.

You lick from his balls up his shaft, taking him in your mouth again. His hand grabs the back of your head as he begins to fuck your mouth. He has always told you that no one has ever sucked his cock like you do. “So fucking good. Don’t stop.... Mmmmmm.” He thrusts into your mouth harder, his tempo increases indicating his approaching climax.

You squeeze his balls as you suck. Feeling them tighten and prepare for his release, he grabs tighter on to your head. You wiggle your tongue on the underside of his cock, side to side, feeling that vein that makes you feel so amazing when he fucks you. He makes a choking noise and grunts as he orgasms, shooting his load into your mouth and down your throat. You swallow as fast as you can, but he keeps spurting into you, filling your mouth faster than you can swallow. When his climax is over, he releases your head, sweat glistening on his forehead and upper lip.

“Mmmmmmm.... Baby that was amazing!” He pants.

“Thank you Sir, I aim to please.” You giggle. You stand and look into the mirror on the wall beside his desk. Your lips are slightly swollen, not that noticeable but your hair is messed up. You run your fingers through it, trying to tidy it up a little. You round his desk and head towards the door before he can grab you, you unlock it and turn back to him. “You have a meeting at 12:30 with Mr Waters Sir, I’ll send him straight through when he arrives.” And you leave the office.

The afternoon is spent at the party venue, making sure everything is ready for tonight at his engagement banquet. By 3pm you’re headed back to the office, ready to close up early to prepare for tonight. At 3:30pm he steps into your office, not locking the door.

“Is everything alright?” You ask as you stand. He smiles at you; you look back at him confused. He gives you a wink and leaves the office. You giggle and shake your head and turn off the monitor of your computer, grabbing your bag and leaving the building.

You shower when you arrive home, standing in the kitchen afterwards eating a banana. You’re nervous for tonight, mainly because you know after tonight things are going to be majorly different at the office. You head back to your bedroom to apply fresh make up and do your hair, the whole process taking about thirty minutes. You select a fitted red dress, black stockings and the red stilettos from last night. You dress quickly and apply some red lipstick, diamonds dangle from your ears and neck, completing the look. You pull out your phone and order an Uber, not wanting to drive home if you drink tonight. You grab a red clutch bag, adding the lipstick a compact and a purse spray perfume. You grab the full-size bottle and spritz yourself all over, the smaller version in your purse to top up throughout the night. You also add Andy’s speech, that you have printed up on cards for him then you’re ready.

The Uber takes you to the venue, you’re arriving at the same time as everyone else. Tonight, you’re a guest, and not here to work. You’re seated next to the head table, with the other partners from the firm. Andy is at the head table, the bride to be’s chair is empty. You walk over to him where he’s chatting to a few people, one of them is Caroline and open your clutch bag, taking out his notes and handing them to him. He looks you up and down, hunger in his eyes and grabs your hand. He leads you out of the hotel ballroom and into a conference room down the hall. He closes the door behind him and comes over, standing so close, you’re trapped between him and the table.

His hand grabs the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. “That dress... fuck!” He moans as he kisses you again. He lifts you to sit on the table, he stands in between your legs, kissing you again. He pulls back and sees you have no panties on, he growls and unbuttons his pants. His hard cock released from the confines of them. He places it at your wetness. “I want you... now!”

You shuffle forward and shudder as his rigid member slides into you, making you moan. He holds you close as his hips move, his dick fucking you ever so slowly. You squeeze your pussy walls tighter around his cock, making him hiss. Your orgasm is approaching fast, making you writhe around in his arms.

He speeds up, hitting places inside you that make you see stars. Your climax hits and you bury your face in his shoulder, muffling your screams as his orgasm takes over. His hips move erratically as he pumps you full of cum, mixing with you own juices and dripping out onto the table. He pulls out of you making you hiss and uses his handkerchief to clean himself up, before tucking his cock back into his pants.

He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving the conference room. You stand and shuffle to the ladies' room to clean up, wondering if things will be different now.

You stand outside the ballroom door and hear his speech beginning. You walk slowly into the room, taking your time to reach the table.

“Thank you all for coming. This is a very special night and I know you’re all wondering about this empty seat beside me, well the truth is I am engaged.” Everywhere around the room, there are various noises, gasps and a tittle of chatter. “The surprising fact is, she’s in this room right now.” Everyone turns their heads, looking around. “The truth is you all know her. We’ve kept our three-year relationship a secret, as proof that it won’t affect us working together.” Everyone looks puzzled.

“May I present my fiancé... y/n.” All heads turn in your direction, you blush and walk to the head table, taking your place in the empty seat beside Andy. A round of applause erupts around the room, he turns to you smiling and slides the five carat ring onto your finger.

People all come over to give their congratulations, including his sister, Caroline.

“Welcome to the family!” She says as she hugs you.

As the noise dies down, and people head back to their seats for the banquet to begin you lean over to Andy.

You whisper in his ear. “Can’t back out now.” Then giggle.

“Baby, that will never happen... oh and we may be equals right now, but once I get you back to my place later, I’m the boss!” He growls.

“Yes Sir.” You reply. Already eager to get out of there and back to the bedroom that you will soon share.

THE END

Tags: @cevansbaby-dove

#andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #ladymunson #the boss series #18+ content #18+ only

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