Month: September 2012

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So, the other night, Craftsmate and that guy from my frat met each other.

It was sort of bound to happen. Craftsmate had figured out who he was from my facebook and then ran into us while that guy from my frat and I had been awkwardly left alone. Surprisingly, things were actually sort of okay and that guy from my frat was being really sweet, but the additional presence of Craftsmate suddenly made everything seem a little out of control.

I know Craftsmate wasn’t going to tell him about my tumblr or anything, but the two hit it off really quickly after I introduced them. They’ve both got these horrible little trickster personalities and naturally they both started teasing me.

“You’re not allowed to be friends, okay?” I pouted. 

They both laughed. “Oh, we’re going to be friends.”

While I know I’m not in any danger of discovery, the fact that the two are interacting…I don’t know. Craftsmate told me he’d respect my choice if I told him they couldn’t get friendly, but I don’t see the point in that or why I’m actually so concerned.

I think it’s more the fact that both of them are sort of the same kind of evil. And I don’t mean entirely sexually. They just work off of each other pretty well because they’re both just so mean.

vintagegal:

Traci Lords in Cry-Baby (1990) (deleted scene)

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Allow me to reintroduce myself.

My name is boobs.

B-double o-b’s.

I used to move snowflakes by the o-z.

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“Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness,“ Allen Ginsberg, in Michael Schumacher’s On Being a Writer.

nigerianscams:

barronbazemore

TISSUE Magazine N°2.

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myanonymouslair:

Ivy… 

its not a knife, but the whole cutting your panties off, and that extra set of hands…

its a button pusher.

Uh, buttons definitely pushed.

And scissors are definitely two knives hinged together so it counts for me.

Also, I’d just like to share that the tag on this was “pointy things and girly panties inevitably make me think of Ivy”. Which is just the best tag ever.

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snarkysub:

390nm:

That feel when your favorite tumblette (is that the term? idk) likes a photo you posted:

I am ridiculous.

Same.

And then shit like this happens and I start blushing like a moron.

Also, thank you to blushingviolet for the incredibly encouraging response to my little rant last night. You all are so invaluable. 

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tease-and-deny:

thinkivykink:

You tease.

montecervesa:

Why, hello there.

Yeah, I didn’t really like knives before. I may be changing my mind on that one. 

Suh. Mirk.

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snarkysub:

390nm:

Ultraviolet Tells All, Except for the Things He Doesn’t

I started this blog because I am bad at kink. I am bad at accepting my desires. I am bad at articulating my desires. I am bad at listening and truly comprehending exactly what people are saying. I am also a naively trusting individual in a lot of ways, which has caused me a lot of problems. Basically, I’m pre-“self respect” Scott Pilgrim, but without the awesome video game fight sequences and Mary Elizabeth Winstead. I don’t even get Brie Larson as a consolation prize.

I wish I could press a button and have it make it so I’m cool with my identity, my desires, all that crap, but that button just doesn’t exist. And even on this mostly anonymous blog, I’m still self-censoring a lot of my kinks. Some of them I haven’t shared with any partner of mine, ever, and despite the fact that only one follower (I hope) even knows what state I’m in, and none of them know me IRL AFAIK, I haven’t said anything on here that past partners haven’t already known.

Goddamnit, Ivy, you make it look so easy.

Also same.

“Goddammit, Ivy, you make it look so easy.”

Except it’s not. I’m sorry to break it to you. It’s not easy. I guess I just fake it until it looks that way.

I was talking to Penthouse when this came across my dash and I told him about it. “You’re a hero,” he said.

“I’m a fumbling one,” I replied.

And so he clarified: “Not the hero Gotham dreams of. But the hero it needs. You’re the Batman, Poison Ivy. Not bad.”

In all seriousness, it’s not easy. I fumble all the time. I say the wrong thing or stuff gets awkward. There’s an example of it, a series of posts, chilling in my queue right now that will shed some light on that. Because I’m not some Kink Goddess. I’m figuring out stuff as I go along and I make a lot of mistakes. Sometimes I don’t articulate what I want and sometimes I don’t give myself the things I deserve.

I started this blog out of my own weakness and shame about the things I liked and the things I wanted. I never thought people would start asking me for advice or holding me up as some standard of kink-positivity. And while I am immensely flattered, I do need to clarify that I’m not always good at accepting my desires, I can be incredibly naive and trusting, and I’m not always 100% on self respect.

As I’m finishing up this post, Penthouse has texted me once more, adding that I should “go pose on top of a skyscraper at dusk. The city deserves to not see its hero in person.” So, uh, sorry for just getting super vulnerable there and doing exactly that. 

But, I suppose I’d like to leave it at this: things are never going to be perfect, but there are going to be those moments where everything falls exactly where it should. And these are the moments to be treasured.

Rock on with your bad selves, kink like nobody’s business, and stay classy.

<3, Ivy

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“When you find out who you are, you will no longer be innocent. That will be sad for others to see. All that knowledge will show on your face and change it. But sad only for others, not for yourself. You will feel you have a kind of wisdom, very mistaken, but a mistake of some power to you and so you will sadly treasure it and grow it,“ – Lorrie Moore, A Gate at the Stairs.

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After the whole awkward walking through the kitchen debacle, Craftsmate wound up trying out a bunch of floggers on me while I was tied down on his bed, ballgagged, and blindfolded with one of his ties. (Yeah, yeah, I know. Casual.)

At one point, he took out his knife and ran it over the line of the back of my knee. It’s been a really long time since I’ve enjoyed any knifeplay and my hand squeezed into a hard fist around the bedsheets. I heard Craftsmate chuckle and realized I’m one of the most transparent people ever.

Last night, we tried it again. I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard him flick it open. It’s a massively satisfying and anxiety-producing noise at the same time. He somehow was using it in a way that I was actually convinced he was cutting my arms, legs and stomach. He wasn’t, but I had gotten high with some people before then and marijuana always makes me really hypersensitive. 

At one point, he reached under my shirt, which had been rolled up under my breasts, and tucked the knife into my bra. “You need to hold still,” he said, “or you’ll hurt yourself and it’ll be all your fault.”

In other news, having a kinky friend is kiiiind of awesome.

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The other night, I was at Craftsmate’s place just hanging around. It was later at night and I had originally intended on just going to sleep, but he invited me over to hang out and so I came over in my pajamas. We were chilling when there was a knock on his door.

Because I was in my pajamas, I just stayed in his room while he went to go to the door. I was sort of tired, so I pulled up his sheets and when he came back in to say something about people, I just sort of told him I was going to sleep. 

In my defense, I’d had a really, really, really long day.

I woke up about an hour later to hear voices in his kitchen and finding that I had to use the bathroom. Naturally, I felt super awkward just walking out of this kid’s room in pajamas. I heard that they were planning to leave soon and so I tried to bide my time, but I eventually just had to walk through rather quickly to get to the bathroom and hope I wasn’t seen.

On the way back, I was sort of awkwardly stopped and said hello. The Prodigy was there and I tried to awkwardly be like, “haha yeah we’re not fucking I just needed a nap” but that’s never really, uh, convincing. 

And I know I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. We’re not fucking and it was just a weird moment with some people who, besides the Prodigy, I’d never seen before. So, it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world, but I still felt sort of crappy. I knew it was silly to. However, the feeling kind of crept up and afterwards Craftsmate and I had to have an awkward “okay that was uncomfortable but not awful” conversation. 

Oh, shame. You’re a dick.