#I NEED a low angle perspective for this

[schrodingersvibecheck]

please consider….. dragonborn durge as an outlaw in the wild west

[narsh-poptarts]

my dark link thoughts coalesced into wonderful headcanons and crazy amounts of forced perspectives and dutch angles

also sorry HW i would have included your dark link(s) but i do not have passion for your game <3 maybe next time

Some thoughts below

I have thoughts about dark link that boil down to basically two things: 1. it's always the same dark link, and 2. dark link has a very difficult time changing.

No matter how many times dark link is brought into existence, he is formed from the shadow of link usually to test link's will. that shadow can be duplicated (as seen in HW) but generally speaking it's the same guy, sharing the thought space, you know how it is. In terms of sentience/thinking for himself, I don't think there's all that much of it. He is a dark reflection/shadow of link, so shares his abilities and thought patterns (for combat) with added aggression and. evil. i guess.

As said by navi, "conquer yourself", and all that. He's a challenge to the inner will power.

That being said!!! he can have a little bit of individuality, as a treat. Just in the form of being mean and sadistic <3 he's got thoughts, he's not just a combat doll (tho in times of low power, or a greater power having the reins, he reverts to that), so he can be frustrated, vindicated, happy, etc etc. though when your thoughts are mainly "evilevilevilevilevil" your idea of these emotions are a bit skewed.

When he's summoned for each different link, i hc that it's all the same magic, so the same dark link every time. he "remembers" in an abstract sense of his role in the same way a link or zelda "remembers" their own reincarnation. tho his is less of a reincarnation and more being used over and over again. a persistence.

The iteration that's summoned reflects the current link at the time, the part of link that needs testing/defeating, so it's not an existence that he himself can change to match the present. he's locked to that first copy/shadow only. So if he were to have a second encounter with an older link, he'd look like the first time they fought, unless he was specifically re-summoned. i hc he's got limited magic, so this is not something he can do himself.

in a links-meet scenario, his form would be limited to those specific forms of the links, and it would always be the points in time in which he first encountered them, unless there's other magic either he or someone else has access to to allow him to change forms to match.

now you might be saying at this point "wouldn't he be a weaker match if he was put up against an older link?" yeah probably lol. but also!!! i like the idea that with the limited magic he has, he's able to change juuuust enough to stay relatively evenly matched. being able to play to different strengths and all that. but the base stuff is still the same, so he is decently easy enough to read if link remembers the kind of stuff he was pulling back when he originally fought dark link.

dark link also knows about all this so while limited to the particular skillset, is able to adapt slightly.

but yeah been thinking a lot about a links-meet au where dark link is there choosing a different link to be every time he appears to the party.

though there are a couple links that he never impersonates in their games!!! so can't change into those guys unless he gets a new round of copycat magic.

Anyways goodbye guy standing there with standard camera angle, i have dutch angles and forced perspective

[kysuguru]

first name basis. i think. — geto suguru x fem!reader

synopsis : shoko and utahime encourage you to say geto’s first name. you feel as if your heart is in your throat.

includes / cw : nothing

all mine masterlist

a / n : geto drabble for my “all mine” series while i try to answer a certain solo mission ask

“Try saying his name!” Shoko pushes.

“Geto-san.” you say easily. Shoko groans.

“No! His given name! Say it! It’ll be good practice won’t it?”

Having no social cues whatsoever, you’re ignorant to her and Utahime’s mischievous stunt.

When you quirk a brow, unsure, Utahime is quick to reassure you. “Don’t worry! It really is just practice. You and that bastard are close right? He might let you say his first name.” By the end of her sentence, her lips are curled into a sly grin (you’re so used to her calling Suguru and satoru degrading names that it doesn’t even phase you anymore). She really is getting a kick out of this.

“Saying Geto-san’s given name? T-That is a really big privilege, I can’t even begin to imagine-”

Shoko and Utahime share a glance.

“Well think of it hypothetically then!” Shoko said, as her and Utahime decided to ignore how low you thought of yourself in Suguru’s perspective — if only you knew.

Just as your tongue moves to spell his name, footsteps approach.

All of you turn to see a familiar serene smile. It’s Suguru approaching with a bag in his hand, the sun hitting him at the perfect angle — as if it was created to shine on him. You stare unabashedly.

“Welcome back, Geto-san!” You exclaim happily, eyes bright. his eyes crinkle and his dimples show. You’re stunned into stillness. I love when he smiles like that… Geto-san is really handsome.

“This is the perfect opportunity! Practice it on him!” Utahime pushes you forward and Shoko starts to think that her counterpart is enjoying this a bit too much.

Before you can gather what’s happening, you stumble. Suguru is quick to grab your arm and stand you upright.

“Careful there.” His voice is soft, and you’re hyper aware of the harsh beating in your chest. So close. Is all you can think.

“What is it you need to practice?” He asks, eyes flitting between you three girls. You sweat. You occasionally forgot how good Suguru’s hearing was. Suddenly the ground has more details than it did a few moments ago.

“Oh nothing much, just saying your name is all.”

Suguru’s brows knit.

“I’m confused. She says my name all of the time?”

“Suguru? or Geto?” Shoko asks. Utahime and her have matching sly grins and Suguru briefly wonders if the dread he feels is familiar to the both of them when him and Satoru mess around.

“C’mon, [Name]! Say it!” Utahime drags out her words in anticipation. Both Shoko and Suguru have concluded that she has a sadistic side, if your obvious fluster was anything to go by.

You look up, and meet his gaze. You’re so focused on his dark murky eyes that you miss the small flush of pink that flits across his cheeks at your intense stare.

“Welcome back, Sss….” You blink, furrowing your brows close together as your expression contorts. “Sugu…”

Suguru waits in anticipation, pupils wide and focused on only you. If you were any bit aware of his gaze outside of your dilemma, it would be almost overwhelming.

“W-Welcome back, Geto-san!” You settle with, breaking eye contact immediately as your cheeks deflate from the amount of air they were holding.

Suguru faintly catches the two in the back groan and share an exasperated look before he’s reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “You said that already.” he replies, voice sheepish.

Mission failed.

my taglist is meant for the main story only sorry… it seems like a lot of work for there to be a tag list on my drabbles… sigh

[cherry-jamm]

Just not him

・❥・ Your situationship doesn’t like that you were seen with another man

・❥・word count: 1.2k

・❥・warnings: Homelander and The Deep (they’re their own warnings), fade to black smut, Homie is a little toxic, supe!reader

・❥・I don't write smut because I'm not good at it, but I'm not good at it because I don't write it, a viscous cycle.

Also sorry if this doesn't make much sense I was in and out of consciousness while writing 😝

"No. No way am I doing that."

"(Y/n), your sexuality is part of your brand. May I remind you your approval rates are going down by the minute." Madelyn sighs.

"Yeah, I get that, but you expect me to go out there and flirt with The Deep? I'd be making a fool of myself." Your cheeks are hot as you try to defend yourself.

"Ah, ah, you'd be making a spectacle, and that's exactly what we need right now. Drama, scandal, rumors."

"And it has to be him?" You deadpanned. "It can't be anyone else? What about Homelander?" You felt yourself becoming desperate.

“Homelander? And you?” A smile breaks out on her face, but she tries to hide it. “I don’t mean any offense, but you two aren’t an ideal pair up.” She talks to you like you’re a child. You fight the urge to tell her that you and Homelander are actually a very good pair. “Anyways, recently you and The Deep have been trending, as a couple.” You scoff.

Recently on a podcast with some man you’re sure is very popular in a different crowd, The Deep confessed that he found you to be the most attractive member of The Seven. Ever since then a burst of videos were posted of cute moments between the two of you, which turned into edits, which turned into fan art, which turned into fanfiction. You fought the urge to gag, who even makes that stuff? From a marketing perspective, it made for great business, a romance angle brought new eyes to the scene. To you, it was demeaning.

“Fine. But I’m not going to take this any further than a few flirtatious remarks at tomorrow’s gala.” You remind yourself it’s not good to anger someone like Madelyn, she’s scarier than she lets on. Madelyn nods and you walk out of her office, much more embarrassed than you were when you entered. As you stormed down the hallway to the safety of your own home, none other than The Deep greeted you.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive.

“Hey! How are you doing today, cutie?” He starts. He practically salivates as he walks beside you. You feel like you’re gonna be sick.

“I’m not in the mood right now.”

“C’mon, why don’t you let me take you out for a drink or two? We’re supposed to be all over each other tom-“

“Not in the mood!” You cut him off. Your walking increases to practically sprinting until you reach your home. You slam the door shut behind you. You shrugged off your clothes and crawled into bed. No way in hell were you getting out of bed until the last possible minute.

You stood, still as a statue. You wore a deep purple outfit. The silks enveloped your body in a sexy, yet elegant way. You had never felt more bored in your life. The Deep had his hand positioned on your lower back, where it had been all night. You had already talked to everyone important, you made sure the photographers got enough shots of you coquettishly whispering in The Deep’s ear, or leaning on him while being in conversation. You had taken notice to the fact that Homelander had yet to arrive. The gala would be ending soon, and without an appearance from the leader of The Seven himself. His absence further ruined your mood.

You and Homelander were in a bit of a situationship. There was no official label for your relationship. He’d come to your house just to sleep with you one day, then act like you two were strangers the next. You had learned to accept that nothing serious would come from the relationship. But there was still a part of you that wished he had come tonight.

“(Y/n), big smiles.” The Deep reminded. “Why do you look so fucking depressed?” His voice was low enough that it would look like casual banter to any outsider. His hold on the small of your back grew tight.

“Back off and mind your own business.” You said through gritted teeth. You forced a coy smile and blush onto your face as if he had just said something really flustering to you.

“Hey you two!” You felt your brows furrow. Sometime between two minutes ago, when you last scanned the room, and now Homelander had entered, and without you noticing. Your fake smile melted into a real one.

“Homelander.” You greeted. The Deep pulled you in impossibly closer. He didn’t say anything, just nodded. You had a feeling he was scared of Homelander.

“Do you mind if I borrow them?” Homelander asked The Deep. All of you knew it wasn’t a question, just a thinly veiled demand. “You seem to have them chained down.” He laughed, referring to the vice grip currently on your back. After a second the hold was gone, The Deep had already walked off to get himself another drink.

It was just you and Homelander now. He moved close to you to whisper in your ear.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked with a plastic smile. You felt your stomach drop.

“My job.” You shot back with an equally fake smile. You watched as his cheeks turned red with anger.

“No.” He grabbed your wrist. “We’re leaving.” You planted your feet in the ground.

“Excuse you?”

“I said, we’re leaving.” He hissed.

“They’ll have my head if I’m seen leaving with you.”

“They can fucking suck it up. I’m The Homelander. I get who I want, when I want. We’re leaving.” He dragged you by the wrist to pull you out the back doors. You were acutely aware that all the photographers turned away their cameras after seeing the expression on Homelander’s face.

The cold night air curled around your exposed skin, but you had no time to even breathe it in before your head hit the wall behind you and Homelander’s lips were on yours. His hands gripped your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You push him away, sucking in deep breaths.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?” You ask breathlessly. You can’t say you don’t enjoy this possessiveness, but he’s never made such a scene for you before, especially in public. He doesn’t answer before pulling you back into another hungry kiss.

He pulls away, his breath hot against your neck. “You’re mine. All fucking mine. No one else can have you, especially not that fucker Deep.” He pants. His grip tightened in a way you’re sure would bruise if it wasn’t for your invulnerable skin. “Fucking say it. Say that you’re mine.” A tone of pathetic desperation creeps into his voice. You smile and curl your fingers in his hair.

You wish Madelyn could see you now. Not a good pair, as if.

“I’m yours, Homelander.” You assure him. He whines against your collarbone. You’re sure tomorrow he’ll go back to pretending none of this happened, but for now you revel in his attention. “Why don’t you show them that I belong to you?”

It’s so petty, just a cheap way to stick it in Madelyn’s face. Homelander grins as he tries to suck a hickey on your neck. Both of your smiles quickly faded at the realization that there’s no way to bruise invincible skin. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Homelander looked up at you with his big blue eyes. You run your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sure you could show them in a different way.” You smirked.

[theemporium]

just saw your last post about Lando filming and now I need to read a smut fic about it like him trying to control himself but he just has to fuck reader so he stops filming and she's like "why'd you stop" and he's like "you're too hot babe" or something along these lines

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Lando didn’t have many regrets in his life, but this was definitely up there.

To be fair, the tripod you had bought had been on its last legs for a while (no pun intended), and you had been meaning to invest in a new and better one for a while. But like most things, you had kept putting it off until eventually the tripod fell apart and you were left with finally purchasing a new one after so many weeks of hoping tape and books tucked under the legs would be good enough.

The issue was that it wouldn’t arrive for another few days, which left you tripod-less when you were scheduled to release a video in the next two days. You had tried balancing it on the edge of your nightstand, on a massive pile of textbooks and even a chair. 

But the angle was never right and it was starting to frustrate you. 

So, Lando being the good boyfriend he was and being home in between races, he offered to be your cameraman. It would be a different angle, a more perspective side rather than your camera being set up at the end of your bed. It would be good, or so he kept telling you. And he wanted to help you, he really did. 

But he really didn’t think his offer through because now he was standing at the edge of your bed, gripping your camera between his fingers and pretending like his cock wasn’t rock hard and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Fuck,” you cried out, your head thrown back against the pillows. 

You looked wrecked. You had been teasing yourself for the better part of the last half an hour, and he was forced to watch every single second of it. He was forced to watch the way you laid across your silk sheets in the white two piece lace set that he definitely had never seen before. He was forced to watch you tease and play with yourself, a vibrator placed over your clothed cunt as you whined and preened until you soaked through the material. He was forced to watch as you sunk your fingers inside yourself, letting out needy gasps that he just wished was his name. 

He was forced to watch and he was quickly losing his patience. 

But his breaking point was when when you looked at him, your lids hooded and your lips swollen from biting on them so much—-and he just couldn’t take it.

You barely had time to take in the fact he shut the camera off, placing it on your desk before he was crawling over you, his lips pressed against yours in mere seconds. You instantly sunk into his embrace, moaning in relief as you felt his tongue swipe along your bottom lip.

“What are you doing?” you murmured breathlessly, your eyes fluttering shut when he began to leave a trail of kisses down the column of your neck.

“Couldn’t fucking take it anymore,” he grumbled, his teeth scraping along the spot at the base of your neck that had you arching into him. “Watching you in this little fucking number, whining and begging and looking so pretty.”

“Lando,” you gasped.

“I needed to taste you, Angel,” he mumbled as he pulled back enough to look down at you, to take in the way your needy eyes looked up at him. His eyes never left yours as he reached for your hand, your fingers still wet and glistening with your arousal. His head dipped down, his mouth wrapping around your fingers as he licked them clean, a low moan sounded from the back of his throat.

“Lando, please,” you whined. 

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured as he moved to rest between your legs, his arms curling around your thighs and his hands pinning your hips to the mattress. “Say my name, Angel.”

Your fingers gripped the silk sheets into tight fists. “What about the video?”

His grin was boyish as he looked up at you. “We can make our own video first, Angel. A lil’ thing for me and you.”

.

[rilakeila]

cat's out of the bag, where reader is an animagus cat and gets embarrassed about it around mattheo

word count 3.9k fandom harry potter pairing mattheo riddle x fem!animagus cat!reader warnings none(? lmk if u see any) author's note just hope it's good, changed it up a lil from the request

request a little cat has been crossing paths with him in the courtyard and he’s actually grown quite attached to it. one of their friends spot him scratching her head or smth on his way to class and makes a joke that mattheo doesn’t understand but the reader does and BOOKS it outta there. mattheo is lowkey a lil put out because he doesn’t see the cat for awhile after that, and the group starts making inside jokes abt it so the reader gets embarrassed and starts avoiding him in person too. mattheo decides he’s over it and gets her to finally spill the beans

STRETCHING your limbs before walking around the classroom, professor mcgonagall requested you to stay a couple of minutes after class to discuss your animagus progress. more so, she was just proud that you were able to complete the process. with mcgonagall and dumbledore’s help, you were typically excused from many days from hogwarts, travelling to uagadou, school of magic, in africa, accompanied by dumbledore to start the process of your animagus. certainly felt out of place with several students younger than you to be able to transform, but it was a great motivation through the help of your professors.

“nicely done, a lovely feline just as myself,” mcgonagall clasped her hands together, proudly, as she watched you jump from table to table in your animagus form.

reaching to the last one that was next to her, you transformed back into your human form, sitting with your hands folded on your lap, “thank you, professor. a big help from you and professor dumbledore, as well as the students at uagadou. though, i am glad that my incantations process did not take as long as i thought it would.”

“well, good that you were able to successfully do so, but i do have another class in a couple of moments, i will let you off now,” mcgonagall patted your shoulder before going to her desk, giving signal that you were free to go. bidding your farewell, she responded with a wave, not looking up from the paperwork. opening the door slightly, you transformed into your animagus form. you remembered that your daily tasks was to practice into your new form, as often as you could, but it was also requested to be kept on the low for your privacy. your classes were not going to resume until the following day, given that you recently had got back from uagadou, only needed to be up to date with all of the material given in your classes. 

taking an adventure around the castle was quite interesting in your new form. a new perspective of seeing it at a much lower angle, may even develop a fear of heights from the tallness of the walls. you tried to get use to climbing and hopping around high shelves in some of the corridors. many students noticed you as you walked around the hallways, only responding in hisses unless they were your friends such as hermione or luna. after roaming for quite some time and alternating within your forms, you settled on one of the open sills in the hallway. taking a laying position, your tail curling on top of your frame and getting comfortable to take a nap.

trying to calm your mind, you wished you could be a cat for the rest of time, not having to worry about school and be someone’s pet sounded like such an easy life. a long nap in the midst of day would have been great, only to be awoken the noisy echos of the halls from the students walking out of class or their breaks. you hear someone place their bag on the open minimal surface on the right of you. their once fast movements turned into quiet, assuming that they left. you peeked one of your eyes open, only to see the green of their school robe, moving carefully as they could next to you to sit cross legged. your eye shuts when he finally sits down, seeing a book in his hand, but being nosy, you tried to see who it was.

your eye opens once more, a scar on their nose, curly hair, and a green robe. well, also a familiar face. mattheo riddle. a mutual of luna’s boyfriend, to keep it simple. you have had your fair share of conversations with mattheo, some were just of commonality or had to do with one of your classes’ assignments. though, many of those shared conversations may have been rare but when initiated, they were quite long, often enjoying and longing that company. if there was anything about him, completely different from his father, he was not as interested in gaining power or any sorts, he just enjoyed a good game of quidditch and being in and out of class as soon as possible. 

you eyed the book in his hand, recognizing it was his little notebook that he used to jot down notes during class. 

“this is a new cat, it’s not filch’s cat,” was all he mumbled before you heard his quill starting writing away. you noticed you craned your neck a little too much to give him notice before dropping it down, closing your eyes to resume your nap. that was until you heard a paper tear out and placed in front of you, “since you’re not asleep, here, judge my drawing.”

caught. you looked at the quick doodle, it was a simple sketch of you curled up with small details from the background, sky, clouds, sunrays, and everything. he must have drawing as a hobby, you were sure it was no more than five minutes that he was able to conjure from the time he has sat down. stretching out your limbs, you grabbed the drawing with your mouth and turned to place it in his lap, a small nod of approval. honestly, you were unsure how to show your appreciation in this form without giving away that you were an animagus.

“well, i reckon that you like this picture. and i’m sure there’s no way that you have a place to keep it,” he raised his hand to pet you, but there was hesitation, probably unsure if you were to going to hiss, bite, or claw at him. mattheo held his palm out in front of you, showing some sort of consent. he seemed harmless, but would it be weird if he ever found out that you were just an animagus. you leaned closer, but that thought of the what if made you feel embarrassed, leading you to jump off the sill. 

“mmm, fine, i’ll see you around, little feline.”

you never thought that the frequency of seeing mattheo around from once every two or so weeks would become an everyday occurrence, mostly in your animagus form. once, maybe around the morning, and a couple more times throughout the day. it was typically during your breaks, walking around the hallways as you usually did. he did a showcasing of his drawing of you whether it was in the usual spot of that sill where you first met in your animagus form or a candid, and those drawings were at a random. each and every single you had appreciated before he hides them into his notebook. outside of your feline moments, you were paired up with him in doing tasks for professors and the staff around the school, seeing as you two would be the common picks due to both of you regularly being in the hallway at the same time. getting to know each other on a different level, even noticing more habits and traits that he has had. though, it was awkward when the topic of your animagus had been brought up during a walk in the library, putting books up for some of the professors.

“anything new recently?” you questioned, placing back the introduction to water creatures into its vacant spot based on madam pince’s list of nonhelpful locations.

“studying and helping the quidditch team, nothing has been new with me,” he placed the book that you handed him on the top of the stack.

“what about any drawings?” you froze in your tracks, unsure if that hobby of his was even known to anyone.

“drawings? how did you know that i draw?” he also paused in his tracks.

“well, i taken up some doodling in my free time during classes and noticed that in charms, you like to doodle professor flitwick and the floating objects in the classroom pretty well,” you did take notice after finding this hobby of his that he continuously did draw at what you thought was him writing notes.

“not as secretive as i thought of that little thing of mine. well, actually, do you know that cat that will always hang around the hallways?” mattheo handed you another book to place within the shelves.

“filch’s cat?”

“no, not mrs. norris, it’s a much smaller cat. this feline has been the center of my art recently, maybe i’ll show you a new one in class next time. i see that cat pretty often, at least a couple of times a day, someone must have lost their pet and gave up,” he said with a chuckle.

“yeah, maybe,” you replied, not knowing what to say, “well, that’s the last book.”

“you said you doodled, right?” mattheo questioned, in which you hummed, agreeing to the statement. it was not a lie you did doodle. stick figures, that still counts. he continued, “do you want to come along with me in the morning before potions to draw this cat?”

no. i can’t, i am that cat. you turned to him, trying to figure out how to be there in two different forms, “maybe, we’ll see.”

“just say that you don’t want to hang out with the dark lord’s son, it’s alright,” mattheo playfully pouted. 

that was a characteristic that you have never seen before from him, and he was trying to persuade you, using his dad’s name. you scoffed, “there was not a no in my response.”

“but, i know that’s what you meant. please,” he drawn out the please, adding hints of sweet in it to essentially charm you.

“fine, but i never even seen this cat,” you said.

“you’ll see, i basically attract this cat. see you in central hallway,” he clasped your shoulder before exiting the library. now, you were left to discover some sort of spell to double your bodies and how you do agree that he does attract you.

“it’s fine, i’ll just walk with him then leave then appear as a cat,” you flattened your robe, smoothing any crinkles out as you walked through the corridors to reach the destined hallway, seeing mattheo already walking towards you, backpack slung over his shoulder. a small smile appeared on his face, meeting your eye contact.

you waved before reaching to him, “so, where’s your little cat?”

“honestly, haven’t seen her around today. the one time i wanted to show her off, and she isn’t here,” he looked around the hall, trying to look around to spot the small feline, not knowing that she was right in front of me.

“aww, maybe, next time, how do you even know it’s a she,” you asked.

“just a wild guess, but if that she is actually a he, hopefully he’ll let me know,” he said, shoving down a piece of paper in his pocket. 

you only glanced before looking at him once more, “well, mcgonagall needed to see me before potions, so, save me a seat.”

he nodded as his way of a farewell before walking inside the classroom. watching him enter and up and down the hallways for lingering students, hoping that the area was student free, you almost started to transform until the conversation within the classroom became much more audible.

“come on, you don’t think it’s odd that the cat always happens to meet you and certain people at certain times. plus, some students just came back from other schools for special training, what if your little cat friend is an animagus?” that statement was followed with laughter, recognizing that the person who said that was lorenzo berkshire. head always full of thoughts and a motor for a mouth.

“a professor, perhaps, or a student much closer to her,” someone else commented, hinting that the only other known animagus with a feline form was mcgonagall. 

there was no way that he was not going to realize that you were an animagus and connect the points, he was aware that you were part of the groups that left hogwarts to study shortly at other schools. you did not want to share your face to him, mattheo may not be the greatest person in the bunch, coming to academics, but with enough effort, he was quite intelligent. you were sure most of the students connected the dots especially with your frequent visits with professor mcgonagall, always excelled at transfiguration and potions, gone to uagadou, there was not a doubt that even trying to keep it on the low, there were people that knew.

maybe walking in the classroom would combat the rumor of being an animagus. though, you already had told mattheo that you were going to be meeting with the professor that they had mentioned. you tried to convince yourself that him finding out was not all too bad, helps not trying to suppress the secret, but you enjoyed the attention that he had been giving you. 

you pinched the bridge of your nose, persuading yourself just enough to tip the iceberg of walking in. entering seeing that you were essentially the last student to walk in and many students faced the entrance, especially that set of certain students, their eyes were on you. not to mention, the widening smirk of lorenzo as he locked his eyes with yours, “you know, that was a purr-fectly timed appearance.”

feeling your cheeks heat up, the cat was quite literally out the bag between you and lorenzo. he definitely knew, he always had some sort of information on every single person you know. you wondered if he was also an animagus as a small fly for the way he always has the buzz on the hogwarts student body. he sent a wink with a sly grin, which ushered you quickly out of class. it was going to be impossible without him dropping hints around you and could not allow someone else to drop your secret. even with calls of your name, there was no way that you would turn back.

“professor, do you know how embarrassing it is if riddle finds out that i am the feline he has been drawing?” you paced around the classroom. with the amount of times that you had walked your pattern in front of your mentor, there would certainly be a dent within the ground.

“perhaps, perhaps not. mr. riddle will more than likely be unbothered by the fact that you are an animagus. he seems too unbothered by any topic for that matter, just as ms. everwood confessed her feelings for him and he had said thank you and walked off as if nothing had happened,” your professor was too focused on other matters around the classroom to be bothered by your issues, but you were sure that she was going to share the same details with professor snape. you were alright with him knowing, it was not like he was not going to be able to read your mind with him being a power legilimen.

“you’re right, thank you, professor. will keep that in mind, i figured out what to do,” you said, all you had to do was just ignore him for the rest of the term or until you graduate. it was going to be impossible for you to not change into your animagus form as mcgonagall required you to change a couple of times a day, and there was not a chance that you could avoid him which was through analyzing the frequency of seeing him everyday. there was a giant possibility that you were overthinking this, as it was true. you just wanted to save yourself from the embarrassment from the intimate moments you had shared despite them being in your cat form.

“please, do update me on your animagus progress, as well as your situation with mr. riddle. concluding with your heightened embarrassment of him knowing, it would seem to me that you may have a crush on him and or value your friendship, as well as him revealing that secret of yours will ruin everything.”

as always, spot on at everything.

for the time being since your conversation with mcgonagall, your contact with mattheo had gone down drastically. attending potions much earlier to avoid having to sit next to him, though, lorenzo’s obvious cat jokes as he walked past you to go to the ingredients closet, it was something you wished to avoid. you were unsure if mattheo cared enough that you switched seats, using mcgonagall’s story regarding about evelyn everwood, he may have just moved on. additionally, you opted to stay in the astronomy tower now for a break when in your animagus form, despite enjoying the ground levels to stroll. you did remember a small exchange between lorenzo and mattheo during a potions practical;

“does mr. cat whisperer miss his feline friend?” there lorenzo goes again.

“and does the school's resident gossip hound miss wagging his tongue in everyone's business?” mattheo responded with the same tone.

“don’t be so grouchy, isn’t it a coincidence that someone stopped hanging out with you?” lorenzo had glanced at you when saying someone, knowing that you were listening. 

there were certain times where you had close encounters with him trying to talk to unless you decided to deviate your path, pretending that you were busy in your notes as you walked in the hallway. you had made a habit to just have your notebook open, just in case he was around.

“mr. berkshire always intends to irritate others quite easily, but i am certain it is his tactic of getting information out of most people,” mcgonagall waved her hand to have the chalk write against the board in preparation for her next class.

before being able to respond back to her, there was a knock at the door. your head turned to the sound, only sinking into your chair and raising your hood to hide your face. it was very unlikely for mattheo to even talk to mcgonagall, unless he was failing a class.

“hello professor, snape had sent me over here saying that you needed me to help a student in returning boxes of ingredients to his closet,” he began to come closer due to the proximity of his voice getting louder with every step he had taken. damn, professor snape. the two professors must be working together in cahoots for whatever the reason may be according to your problems.

“yes, please assist (y/n) with those boxes over there. i would have done a spell, but professor snape wanted to ensure that the number of ingredients were done by hand and everything was correct for storage. off you go, i need to prepare for the upcoming period,” she dismissed the both of you. you knew that she was not going to respond if you tried to convince her, but you did trust her judgment and may be the only way to jump over the obstacle.

“of course, professor,” you shoved your hood down, trying to not make eye contact.

the collection of the boxes was quiet, one for you and one for him. there was an understanding between the both of you in doing your task, more so you quickly grabbing your box and walking out of the classroom. mattheo did not do much but just follow your lead, similar to your library duties. the walk was fast-paced and still silent, typically you had started most of the conversations, always starting with how has your week been going.

“how has your week been going?” he initiated.

“busy, just studying, you?”

“the same thing as you.” 

“nic-“

“i am not one to beat around the bush, why have you been avoiding me?” he asked once more. straightforward. the synchronized clanking of the glass jars and footsteps was quieter, and it was just your own creating the sound. 

“what do you mean? i said i was busy,” you awkwardly chuckled. you stayed still, but you had not turned to face him.

“not busy enough for you to stay in professor mcgonagall’s office for a couple hours of the day, your studying sessions in the courtyard and library has whisked you away to a different location. mind you, you never came to potions early enough, but you recently had to change seats,” mattheo pointed out the changes in your daily routine. it did not seem like a big of a deal, but no one would typically pay attention to the specifics of the times that you did things.

“are you spying on me, now?” you finally turned around, wondering why.

“no, just things i’ve noticed. also, when someone mentions cats or just anything of the sort, for instance.. lorenzo, that day, when he was talking about an animagus being my feline friend, were you offended that he brought up mcgonagall? if it is, i have enough dirt on him to drag down his reputation,” he offered. for someone with decent intelligence, he was not displaying enough critical thinking.

“it’s not that, mattheo, you didn’t understand the joke that he had said when i walked in?” you raised an eyebrow, typically he understood the complex jokes you thrown at him when you placed books back in the library.

he seemed to be taken back, hesitating, one expression that he rarely had, “the purr-fectly timed appearance, he was..”

hesitation once again. the raised eyebrow also did not leave your face, watching his once sturdy eye contact to be broken as you waited for him to complete his statement. he cleared his throat, “he was alluding to something else that we were discussing in the group.”

“which was?”

“i asked first, so, why have you been avoiding me?” he quickly veered away from you prying his answer. you were so close to revealing the mystery, and you were able to imagine the disappointment from mcgonagall in not completing her goal of this task between you and mattheo with professor snape. there was no way he would mind.

“okay, fine, no, we say our answers at the same time. i’ll answer your question, and with my question for you to answer is what the something else of that discussion as it pertains to me and i am nosy,” you looked at him, hoping he would take your proposition. 

he walked closer to you, stopping with no space left between you two aside from the boxes that you both held in front of your torsos, “fine.”

“on three.”

“one.”

“two.”

“three.”

“i am the cat that you have been hanging around.”

“i have feelings for you.”

the surprised looks mirrored each other’s faces, only mattheo had his mouth agape which he closed. your embarrassment was overflowing your body, but the surprise of him confessing that he had liked you mixed in with the embarrassment. though, the combination just left your body heated. 

“i also like you, if that helps,” you broke the silence despite feeling the warmest you ever been.

“no wonder why you said that drawing bit in charms,” he grinned. mcgonagall was correct, yet again, he seemed to overlook your animagus side, not even slightly bothered.

“so, you don’t mind me being an animagus?” you needed to make sure that it was clear that he did not mind, in order for your embarrassment to be resolved,

he shook his head, “it’s okay to be an animagus, that’s bloody amazing, actually.. enzo is quite smart in dropping that hint, it was quite purrfectly executed.”

you snorted, as you watched him move to stand by your side. there was so many questions running through your mind that you were unsure which option to pick to start at. you were just satisfied at the fact that he did not mind. though, you two had a mutual understanding was to leave it be for now and enjoy the moment.

“and so, the cat’s out of the bag.”

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[python-nebula]

Uh. SAF lighting/staging(/whatever else happens to come up) analysis be upon ye. This is a very loose definition of 'analysis' and is more like 'I wrote this with the power of Autism, Being a Film Student, and 'Song 2' by Blur', enjoy :)

^ These are the images I'm gonna be referencing, but I'm talking about the scene in general too. I'm gonna keep the main body of the text in white and my notes in pink :)

Ough okay so. The staging + body language. Owen is specifically placed higher than Curt because in his eyes, he has the upper hand. The slight low angle also lends weight to this and aids in making him look powerful. Because of this, his gun arm isn't raised higher than his shoulder level as it doesn't need to be, giving him a casual air, along with his pulled-back, loose posture and his head lolling slightly to the side.

Despite his body language, we can see from his face and words that he is actually very tense internally. This is probably a very deliberate choice on the director's part, as it emphasises Owen's demeanour of laid-back power (or at least, that's what he tries to present himself as).

This all contrasts directly to Curt. His gun arm has to be at a very high angle because of his positioning in relation to Owen, meaning his posture is very tense and his head is held rigidly upwards. Owen has been planning this meeting for (presumably) years, but Curt obviously hasn't. This is reflected in how they stand (as just explained).

He looks up to Owen, both literally and metaphorically. When they were together, they looked up to each other, and therefore were on equal footing because of their mutual respect and love. But now that Owen feels betrayed and scorned, that resect and love has become one-sided (but half-buried by Curt).

(A detail I like is that even though both actors are (I assume bc it's more common) right-handed, Owen holds his gun in his left hand, meaning the guns are level with each other, creating nice symmetry).

//

LIGHTING TIME. Oh boy, the lighting. Owen stands not only shrouded in stage smoke (giving him an etherial appearance), but also severe white light. This separates him and Curt, showing the now-clear stark contrast between them (whereas before they were both in normal light levels together).

It also represents how Owen has essentially become a ghost; he doesn't exist in his own identity to anybody other than Curt now (and Tati but she isn't in this scene). He isn't part of this world anymore, and exists outside of ever being in Curt's life again.

The light from around Owen casts down on Curt, almost invoking religious imagery. From both perspectives, it represents Curt's adoration and idolisation for Owen (both from being in love with him and from building a version of Owen in his head for four years), and need to 'save' him (his quote unquote 'Messiah complex' that his mother describes).

From Curt's perspective, he is gazing up at Owen, and is bathed in some of his light (he moves closer to Owen later in the scene, more into his light, symbolising his resignation to, and acceptance of, the fact that he can't save Owen. He moves past his memory of, and built-up mental image of, Owen). Up the stairs is Owen, the man he loves, and the light. Back down the stairs is his life without him; darkness.

From Owen's perspective, he knows that Curt feels this way about him - hell, he probably felt the same way about Curt, before the accident - but he keeps his distance. The light, for him, isn't holy light, but a barrier he has put up. In the scene, he doesn't move closer to Curt, he stays high up where he doesn't have to face the man he loves (loved?) and see the pain on his face from up close, see the tears (of anger, or heartbreak? Both, I'd say) that are probably forming in his eyes. Does he feel guilty or regret it? Possibly, considering he apologises several times to Curt in 'One Step Ahead'.

Either way, the stark white light isn't healthy for either of them. So they leave the light, together, when the shot rings out and the stage falls into darkness.

Okay!! This has been my over-the-top, unhinged, accidentally-a-character-study ''''analysis'''' of a single fucking scene from a spy musical that I've been a fan of for a grand total of 24 hours!! :D Please let me know if I made any mistakes, I'm not as knowledgeable about staging as I'd like to be, and as said, I also haven't been a fan for very long.

(I'm gonna post this now and stop adding more to it lmao)

Tagging @kairithemang0 @venomousray @consumingthecheese

[beomiracles]

congrats on ur 500 serene!! would like to ask for a bonus scene from professor kang? tysm <3

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... I have a crush on my math teacher, he's 6'5 sue me. he also lets me pass all exams even when I only answer like 3 questions! — anyway I went back to reread the original fic and my eyes started burning from my bad writing. at the same time it made me happy, it puts into perspective just how much I've progressed these past months!!

original fic here (I am apologising in advance for the writing of it)

cw, teacher x student relationship (reader is well above the age of 18, uni), taehyun kinda exploits his role as a teacher, porn photography, + suggestive make out

You knew that it was bad the second he placed your test results on your desk without as much as a glance in your direction. Your stomach drops as your gaze falls on the cursive writing. 12/35. Swallowing the lump in your throat, your fingers curl into fists around the flimsy material of your skirt and you keep your head down, hoping he wouldn’t address you. — It was weird, you never scored this low, never, especially not in physics. 

It was inevitable, you knew that, yet you still felt your heart leap as your professor beckoned you over after class. The walk toward his table felt miles long and when you finally stopped before him, your hands clasped in front of you as your head hung low, you drew in a short breath. — Your professor sighs as he leans back in his chair, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. “You do know why I’ve called you here?” Taehyun asks and you meekly nod. 

“And you understand that you do need to hand in extra material in order to pass?” His statement manages to draw your gaze from the floor as you look up at him with a frown, “am I not supposed to retake the exam?” You quietly wonder, your thumbs digging into the back of your hand as you try to calm your beating heart. Your professor shakes his head before reaching down to fish up a bag. Your eyes widen as you recognize the expensive brand, and before you know it, he’s shoved it in your hands. 

You blink as you peer down to study its contents, your lips parting as you realize what exactly he’s bought for you. — “Five photos will suffice”, Taehyun drawls as he studies your stunned expression. “Unless you would rather retake the exam, the offer still stands”, he muses and you let out a shaky exhale. Unable to tear your eyes away from silky lingerie, its bold and almost intimidating red color perfectly matched the one currently on your cheeks. 

“Five photos?” You ask and your professor nods. 

The smooth fabric felt nice against your skin and as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, you felt your face heat up at the erotic sight. You played around with angles, making sure to get a few that captured your tits, nipples on full display beneath the practically see through silk. Then a few of your ass, one of your hands sliding along the curve of it as you snapped a couple of photos. 

Once you were done, you walked over to your bed as you sat down to pick out five suitable ones. You hesitated as you attached the images to the email, checking over and over that you had the correct address before you finally sent them. — It took barely five minutes to get a reply back, and your jaw slacked as you read the short sentence. 

“7.30am, my office, wear it.” — Sent from Iphone 

Taehyun’s slender fingers easily slide your unbuttoned shirt off your shoulders as his eyes shamelessly roam your exposed skin. Fingertips tracing the curve of your breast, his thumb rubbing your nipple through the fine crimson lingerie. You shudder as your legs spread further, hands gripping on to the desk behind you, his graded tests pushed back to make room for you on his study. 

“T-The photos…did you like them?” You gasp as his hot mouth trails along your neck, tongue dragging across your skin as his hand snakes around your waist, instantly sliding under your skirt to grope at the flesh of your ass. He hums as his other hand creeps up your thigh, “five more and I’ll raise you to an A.” 

You blink as you consider the offer, your stomach fluttering at the thought of posing for him once more. His fingers slip beneath the fabric covering your throbbing cunt and you cry out as he slides them inside. “Your gpa would certainly benefit from it”, he drawls as he kisses the shell of your ear. 

Slowly nodding, you bite your lip as you glance over at the other student’s hard efforts, scattered across his desk, long forgotten as your professor’s attention remained solely on you. Perhaps it was wrong, unfair, and even selfish, but as his thumb grazed over your clit you suddenly didn’t care anymore. 

You scored an A after that.

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[adorkastock]

Im an artist trying to take my own pose references for some difficult art, any advice on how to do it right?

Oh gosh I've been meaning to do a big post about this and I will at some point but for now here's the basic basics:

decent lighting - doesn't even have to be 'good' just decent. I used to use light through a slider door, directional will help show the forms. If windows aren't an option some directional lamps could help.

I do form fitting lightly colored clothing because I find it easiest to see what I need. Biking shorts, sports bras, fitted tanks, yoga pants, etc.

Contrasting solid colored backdrop - in my oldest photos this was a blue sheet hung behind me with thumbtacks. Make sure it contrasts both your skin tone and the clothing so you don't wash out anything.

Timer for your camera - most people will use cell phones which are all pretty good enough these days for ref. I know Android cameras have an option to open you hand and close it to set off the remote timer so check what your phone can do. Worst case set the timer and run back if there's not a remote setting. I did this for YEARS. :')

if you want a 'straight on' look with no foreshortening or perspective then you want the camera probably about 6ft away from you and as vertical as possible. Get fancy with boxes and books to prop it up if you need to.

The lens should be around or just above belly button height to eliminate foreshortening. If you WANT foreshortening just mess with the angle and placement of the lens. If you have a wide angle lens that can do some really cool stuff with low and high perspective.

Don't forget your face. Getting the pose is a nice start but future you will appreciate it if you can get a little into character with your expression too.

Okay I think that's all the very basics and I hope this helps! Obv if you have a friend, sibling, parent, roommate, s/o, whatever around they can help you get any very specific angle the way you need it. I hope you make great refs!!! Happy posing, happy drawing! 🕺🏻📸

[piratefishmama]

Nest | Part 6

Steve expected the crowd outside of the door. He expected the Alphas, four of them, intermingled with a small team of Betas for pheromone control. He didn’t expect the rise in aggression that spiked in him at the sight of them all, but he had enough self-control to shut it down as quick as it spiked.

They were there to protect Eddie, they weren’t there to hurt Eddie. They were there to protect him from Steve if need be, even at the risk of their own safety. They were doing their jobs.

“I’m okay.” He held up his hands in a bid to relax the crowd “I’m under control.”

“Very nearly weren’t, though, were you, Steve?” He also didn’t expect him. Although he should have. It wasn’t like Owens wasn’t around. It wasn’t like Owens wasn’t liable if things went sideways in the clinic, if one of his Alphas on staff assaulted someone. Sam Owens, Beta, good with the younger patients. Always had lollies in his coat pocket for the scared or nervous ones. “What’s everyone still doing here? Go on, off you go, crisis averted! Crowd disperse!” Looks were shared, before the small team dispersed back to their original stations, back to their actual jobs. “Steve, you come with me.”

“I can’t be away from him for long, I—”

“You won’t be, now come with me.” No room for argument, no matter how friendly the betas tone was, no matter how neutral he sounded. Owens was the boss. He was the one with all the degrees, the qualifications, the experience. Steve followed, he followed all the way down the main hallway and to the left, right to the end of that one, and through the door at the end, directors office, where he watched Owens take a seat behind his desk, only taking the one in front of it when it was offered. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Have a drink.” Owens stood and retrieved a soda can from a mini fridge he kept in his office, placing it on the desk for him before sitting back down. “You’re not in trouble Steve. It’s okay.”

“But I broke—”

“Nothing. You broke nothing. You kept yourself completely under control, and while yes it looked bad from the angle of the cameras, security were right in raising a response unit, you kept yourself in check, that shows an incredible amount of self-control, you broke nothing. You can relax.” It took him a moment, but he let the tension drain, it was okay, he wasn’t in trouble, he could have that drink, and everything would be fine. Owens even waited for him to finish his first swig of the refreshing liquid before he spoke again “What happened, from your perspective, Steve? Tell me everything from the moment you met him to… that.”

“In detail?”

“Condense it for me. Mr. Munson won’t be asleep forever, he’ll likely need you when he wakes so I don’t want to keep you here too long.” He could go back. He was allowed back. That last bit of tension draining away. It’d be okay.

“Right… uhm… well, I know him. We went to school together.”

“You’ve known a few Omegas who’ve been treated here, Mr. Emerson attends Hawkins Highschool as well, I’m sure you must have met him before, yet this wasn’t an issue in that assignment, what makes Mr. Munson different?”

“I don’t know, it’s like… it feels… right? Like—like I belong with him I—I don’t—I’ve never reacted like that to an Omega’s pre-heat scent before, it’s… I don’t know—” confusing, baffling, overwhelming, he wanted… god he wanted so badly but he didn’t know why.

“Like he’s yours?” It wasn’t an accusation, although a defensive alpha might have seen it as one, Steve kept his defences low. Sam Owens was not a threat. He’d already said Steve wasn’t in trouble.

“No… like… like I’m his” Owens nodded “like… like I was always supposed to be his” everything just clicking into place piece by piece, why he’d never been able to find the right person to settle down with, why his eyes had always been drawn to Eddie, sure he thought it was because Eddie just naturally drew the attention to himself, but—maybe it wasn’t that simple for him, maybe it wasn’t just Eddie’s ability to be the loudest person in a room that had Steve’s eyes drawn to him so often. “does that make sense?”

He'd just never gotten close enough to the Omega assume anything different.

“Unfortunately quite a bit. Yes.” Owens stood back up, and rounded his chair to the book case, where he perused for a moment before settling on a thin book bound in red leather, a notebook. “There’ve been a fair few cases of this kind of thing cropping up in clinics across the globe for as long as clinics like Nest have existed. Alphas and Omegas in close proximity during heats, it happens. Fanciful folk like to add romanticized labels to the whole thing, soulmates, fated mates, true mates. I’ve never been a fan of that terminology, they remove the essence of choice in it all. Of our own autonomy. When in reality, all it is, is that you both give off each other’s ideal scent, as in there's nothing in the subtle notes of it to put you off, and Eddie is just giving off a lot of his right now without anything to mask it.” That pre-heat scent doing its job too well. "The working term among the clinics is actually 'Scent Mates.'"

“…Excuse me?”

“We all have our individual scents, Steve, outside of things we can control like our cologne, perfume, the food and drink we’ve consumed, the fabric of the clothes we wear, we all give off our own individual unique scent underneath all of that. And we all have an ideal scent that makes us feel safe, comforted, that makes us feel all those good things we crave in life. We can settle in those scents, surrounded by them, they make us feel at home. Like we belong there.”

He belonged… like he belonged… he felt that. He felt so strongly that he belonged with Eddie, that everything was right with Eddie in his arms. “That’s—that’s what I felt like, like… I belonged there, like it was right… and when he asked me to—y’know, I barely managed to stop myself.” It felt right to be with him.

It felt wrong to pull away.

“Although I can't speak for him, or make any assumptions as to how he’ll feel after his heat because sometimes it is one sided when the dust settles, he must feel very drawn by your scent too, to be so comfortable around you, to be so responsive, especially so early in his heat, maybe yours might even be his ideal, making you both one of the many ‘scent mates’ who’ve found each other through these clinics. I wouldn’t blame him for being drawn to it though, who doesn’t enjoy a walk past a bakery in the morning?” It was meant as a joke, and maybe if he hadn’t said the first part Steve would have laughed… but he did say the first part.

“…He might not though?”

“It’s possible, just like physical attraction between primary genders, sometimes it’s one sided, with just the Omega’s heat temporarily pushing that attraction on their side to fulfil their instinct to be bred. But you and I both know, Omega’s don’t crave the touch of an Alpha during the first stage of their heat… his response to you is indicative of those going into the third stage, quite the advance given he’s been here only a day.” It wasn’t common.

Owens was right, Steve had tended to many Omega’s in his time at Nest, they all had variety, different behaviours, different traits, but the one thing that stayed the same was… heats progressed as they normally would.

Pre-heat, carb load, insatiable, then recovery.

Each stage had its own kind of behaviours exhibited. Omega’s didn’t want sex during pre-heat, they wanted to prepare, to build a nest, to get comfortable, to feel safe, and in the clinic... to get to know the alpha who'd be helping them.

Eddie just had to be different, didn’t he?

Owens was still talking “—sure, while we were already keeping him under close watch due to his history of violence, for safety reasons we’re going to have to be very careful with you as his assigned Alpha. Be honest with me, Steve… can you handle this?”

“I can handle it. I won’t hurt him.”

“I know you won’t, there's never been a recorded incident between scent mates that makes me think you would. Head to the cafeteria before you make your way back to him, I’m sure he’ll appreciate food when he wakes up.”

“…You’re really letting me stay with him?” With increased security, likely a door guard or two, but still.

“Would any other alpha be safe in there with him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Exactly. Off you go.”

Part 8

[creature-wizard]

Some things associated with New Age that aren't inherently bad

Since this blog can get kinda heavy sometimes, and because there's some people out there who think that anything remotely adjacent to New Age is evil and must be banished forever, I figured I'd write something on elements it includes that aren't necessarily bad.

Its general concept of God and divinity

New Age beliefs typically posit that God, or Source, effectively split itself into many different souls in order to have different kinds of experiences. There's nothing wrong with this model of divinity in itself, since it doesn't by itself imply anything hateful or suggest any kind of action that might lead to harm. Where it gets messed up is when people start claiming that if you're suffering, it's because you deliberately chose to have this kind of experience before you incarnated. That's just victim blaming, and it's wrong.

Energy healing

Energy healing on its own is a harmless practice, and many people do report feeling better for doing it. Dismissing energy healing as inherently bad in itself would be like dismissing prayer for recovery as inherently bad. It's really not. The problem is always when people start believing they should only rely on energy healing or prayer, or fall into the belief that pharmaceutical medicine is sinful or an evil conspiracy.

Listening to relaxing tones

No, those "healing frequencies" probably won't cure any serious ailments. But that doesn't mean they can't make you feel more relaxed or help you focus. You don't have to subscribe to any specific belief system to listen to these audios.

Glossolalia

The New Age practice of speaking in light languages is a form of glossolalia, which basically involves relaxing and speaking whatever sounds immediately come to you. Doing it can be cathartic and relaxing, and you don't need to subscribe to any specific belief system to do it.

Tarot reading

Reading tarot cards doesn't require subscribing to any specific spiritual belief system. Nor do you even need to be spiritual at all; you can read tarot cards with the perspective that what you're doing is prompting your own mind to consider things from new angles.

Meditation

Meditation is known to have beneficial effects, and doing it doesn't require subscribing to any particular belief system. Yes, it's a problem when somebody subscribes meditation as a cure-all, or use it as a form of spiritual bypassing, but that's a problem with the teacher, not the practice itself.

Eating more plant foods

Provided you don't have any allergies or intolerances, eating more fruits, vegetables, nuts, and the like usually isn't a bad idea. The problem with New Age is when it effectively moralizes food by decreeing certain foods "high vibrational" or "low vibrational," or when it's pushing conspiracy theories about modern processed food items being intentionally poisoned to block our psychic abilities or keep us dependent on the healthcare system. And obviously, it's appallingly ableist to tell someone that they could cure a chronic illness by switching to an all-natural vegan diet or something.

Belief in aliens

It's a big universe, and it's not unreasonable to think we're not alone in it, and that maybe there's beings who are observing us. The problem is when belief in aliens becomes part of a conspiratorial worldview that scapegoats certain groups of people for the world's problems, displaces real history, and misuses other people's traditions and beliefs.

Belief that things can and will get better

To paraphrase Terry Pratchett's words in The Hogfather, we sometimes need to believe in things that aren't true (such as justice and mercy) so they can become true. Believing that things can change makes people feel like their efforts are worth something. Meanwhile, when everyone's got a doomer attitude nothing will change for the better because nobody will even try.

One problem with New Age's optimism in specific is that they tend to believe that things getting better is contingent on converting a large number of people to New Age spirituality, which includes getting them to accept a large number of conspiratorial beliefs that target and harm vulnerable minorities, and/or distort and erase the actual spiritual beliefs of people from different cultures (many of whom are marginalized minorities and/or have been severely harmed by colonialism already).

Another problem is when you get the whole 5D ascension thing going on. 5D ascension is basically the New Age version of the Rapture, and just like the Rapture, it's always said to be right around the corner, but it never materializes. (If you'd like examples, here are predictions for 2012 and 2015.) Very concerningly, New Agers often list a number of physical and mental health symptoms as "ascension symptoms." They were claiming this as far back as the 2010s, when December 31, 2012 was supposed to be the big day. (Here's an example.)

Basically, hope and belief that things can get better is important - but it's also important not to hang our hopes (and medical decisions) on supernatural predictions that have already failed multiple times.

Wanting to promote compassion and understanding between people

This is a great thing to want! The problem with New Age isn't that they want to spread peace and harmony, but rather the way they want to do it without really listening to the people they supposedly want to help. You can't, for example, genuinely fight colonialism if you're engaging in cultural appropriation and misrepresenting their spiritual traditions - you're an active part of the problem. Promoting compassion and understanding begins with you shutting up, listening, and learning without imposing your own preconceptions or reacting from your ego. You're not doing this if you're looking for mythology to project aliens onto, or dismissing anything you don't want to hear as a conspiracy.

And here's some critical thinking tips before you go

When you're evaluating any belief system or practice, it's always important to remember that belief and practice are not the same thing. Most of the time the practices are harmless in and of themselves; the actual danger comes from the conspiratorial and morally polarized worldviews many practitioners also subscribe to. Nobody's ever died from putting rose quartz in their room or getting a reiki session. They have died from refusing evidence-based medical care because someone convinced them that the health care industry is a scam and will also separate them from Source.

When it comes to beliefs themselves, ask yourself what kind of narratives they're upholding. If they basically promote the same kind of conspiratorial narratives used by Nazis, witch hunters, or far right Christians to justify their hatred and violence, that's a pretty strong sign that this belief is bullshit. But of course, there's a pretty stark difference between believing that aliens could be out there, and believing blood-drinking reptiles have invaded the Earth.

[redvexillum]

Dear @crackrodent, You are lucky you're in the Voxtek Server, otherwise I would have never even contemplated even doing any of your crack-ass request. I still have like three or four just...STARING at me. Anyways, just know, I fucking love you - that's why I wrote... whatever...this...is...LOL 💖🤣

TAGS/WARNINGS: m/m, an♡l s♡x, val and adam is a shitty person, this whole s♡x scene is just dripping with egotistical/selfish energy

The room was thick with the scent of lust, sweet and heavy, mixing with the low rumble of some B-class actor’s baritone grunts as the sounds of ecstasy filled the air. Valentino watched the scene, his eyes half-lidded with wariness, while the curling pink smoke lazily drifted from his pipe. He reclined in his lavish chair, legs casually crossed, looking every bit the kingpin of indulgence, though his thoughts were far from mere indulgence.  

To the masses, his films were nothing more than a means to an end – titillation, pleasure without thought. They saw breasts, ass, or a cock, and they were content to let their hands do the work.  

But to Valentino, it was more than just base gratification. He prided himself on the art of seduction, on the way his camera captured more than the mere act – it captured the hunger, the raw, primal allure that only comes when the soul plunges into depravity. It wasn’t about a cock thrusting into some disposable body; no, it was about the allure, the sensuality that teased the darkest corners of desire.  

It was visceral.  

It was untamed.  

It was...art.  

Hell had a way of putting things in perspective, he mused, his red eyes narrowing as he listened to the rhythmic slap of skin on skin echoing from the scene before him. Angel, his star, was caught in the throes of a double penetration, his body trembling as two hound sinners took him from both ends.  

Valentino’s cock twitched at the sight, though a hint of boredom tugged at his mind. He had seen it all before – each performance blending into the next, the same screams, the same positions, the same predictable rhythms.  

His tastes had evolved, elevated even. Valentino no longer craved the mundane. He was hunting for something more – a masterpiece, something so provocative, so unique, it would etch his name into Hell’s lore forever.  

Rumours whispered of a new sinner in Hell, a figure of legend. Adam, the first man, now among the damned. The possibilities danced in Valentino’s mind, his fingers absently stroking the sharp angle of his chin as he schemed.  

Adam.  

The original sinner.  

His mere presence in Hell was an opportunity. Valentino had filmed countless renditions of Adam and Eve in the Garden, but none of them ever quite captured the essence. The actors never looked quite right, never felt as human as he wanted them to be.  

But Adam – the Adam – was still strikingly human despite the horns curling from his forehead, a fallen figure, and one that could bring Valentino the fame and recognition he craved.  

A slow, satisfied grin stretched across Valentino’s face. If he could secure Adam as his star before anyone else, it would be the scandal, the sensation, the art that Hell needed. His fame would soar, his reputation cemented.  

More than that – it would be a film that redefined what it meant to push the boundaries of Hell’s darkest pleasures. The thought made his pulse quicken, a wicked excitement pooling low in his gut.  

It didn’t take much to strike a deal with Adam, much to Valentino’s amusement. The former first man had spiralled into debauchery, spending his days in strip clubs, guzzling alcohol like it was his lifeblood, and sinking into a haze of orgies that numbed him to his fall.  

Valentino approached him with an offer – a lifetime of booze, pussies, and endless pleasures at Val’s clubs – all for the price of filming one pornographic movie with him.  

Adam, still swaying slightly from the buzz of liquor, looked him up and down with a lazy grin. The former first man took his time, his gaze dragging over Valentino’s tailored suit, over his angular frame. “I’ll do it,” Adam said, his voice thick with amusement, “but on one condition. You’ll be the one getting fucked, and you’re gonna call me the Dick Master while I’m deep inside you.” 

Val’s sharp smile faltered for a split second, the words hanging awkwardly in the air. It was a ridiculous title, at first, something laughable – but then Adam continued, explaining in his slurred tone that as the original man, the first, all man descended from him, and therefore, all dicks too. That every cock had its origin in his.  

The logic was so absurd that Valentino found himself nodding. It made a twisted sort of sense in the ridiculousness that was Hell.  

“Fine,” Valentino agreed, his voice smooth, hiding his distaste behind a mask of professional composure. It was a deal, after all, and if getting Adam on camera meant this ridiculous stipulation, then so be it.  

Val chuckled to himself. He probably could’ve gotten away with offering the drunken fool a week’s worth of indulgence, and Adam still would have signed the deal. But now, Valentino had him, and soon, he’d have his next masterpiece.  

This wasn’t just about capturing flesh; it was about capturing the very essence of sin – the fall, the lust, the corruption of the first man.  

And that, Valentino thought as his grin widened, was art.  

The studio was lit, bright spotlights casting a glow over the bed, the set already prepped for what should have been a masterpiece. But as Adam stood there, naked, scratching his hairy belly and letting out a loud belch that echoed in the studio, Valentino’s eye twitched. He hadn’t expected this.  

The man in front of him was far from the statuesque figure he had imagined. Instead, Adam was a thick, pear-shaped figure with a pelt of dark hair covering his chest, belly, and ass.  

Val’s lips curled in disdain as he took in the sight. He had pictured something more – refined. Perhaps like Angel Dust, with his graceful, slender frame and seductive charm. But this...this was far from the sensual art he had envisioned. Adam had bulk, hair, and an unimpressive aura that radiated laziness.  

His eyes drifted lower, to the man’s tight-fitting white underwear, which clung awkwardly to his hips and had a tear at the waistband. Val sighed. Perhaps he’d been cheated in this deal instead, his dreams of an artistic masterpiece slipping further away. The whole setup reeked of disappointment. He could already feel this film relegating itself to the bargain bin. 

“Well,” Val said, his voice dripping with reluctant acceptance, “a deal’s a deal.” He stripped out of his suit, letting the fabric fall from his lanky frame. His skin glistened under the harsh lights; every angle of his slender body sharply defined as he stood bare before Adam. His eyes were calculating, already planning to edit every unsexy moment of this disaster. “Alright, Dick Master,” he drawled, sarcasm oozing from his tone, “time to fulfill your end of the bargain.” 

Adam grinned, wide and shameless, as he dropped his torn underwear, kicking it off lazily before standing there, completely nude. “You’re not exactly my type,” he commented, his eyes roving over Val’s body with a shrug, “but hey, free booze and sex for eternity? Can’t say no to that.” 

Val raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to Adam’s cock, which was now hanging heavy between his legs, still flaccid but sizable enough to warrant some attention. Perhaps there was some redeeming factor here after all. He bit back the retort that this bumbling idiot wasn’t his type either. The sooner they get this over with, the better. Val’s eyes drifted back down to Adam’s cock – the only potential upside to this wasteful exchange.  

Adam stepped closer, his presence larger than life as he loomed over Val, their bodies almost touching. “You ready for my huge, fat cock?” Adam taunted, his voice a low growl as he stroked himself lazily, the thick shaft hardening and curving upward as it grew longer and thicker in his grip. “Gonna make your ass my little bitch.” 

Valentino let out a small, unimpressed sigh, rolling his eyes at the bravado. He reached for the lube, slicking it over his hands. “Right,” he muttered dryly, “let’s get this over with.” His mind was already distancing itself, calculating every angle, every edit he’d need to make to salvage something remotely watchable from this.  

His lips twitched into a smirk, despite himself, as Adam’s cock finally stood fully erect. At least that was impressive. Val’s own cock gave a faint twitch of approval, anticipation coiling low in his belly.  

“So,” Adam began, his tone casual as his thick fingers stroked his cock, now hard and throbbing. “You just need me to fuck you till I cum, yeah?” 

Val nodded, lifting his arms in mock enthusiasm, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he mimed air quotes. “That’s right. And I will, of course, refer to you as Dick Master throughout the entire ordeal.” His words came out sharp, biting with humour and disdain, but his body was responding to the heat of Adam’s presence, the sheer size of him towering over his lithe form.  

It wasn’t the art Valentino had envisioned, but for now, it was enough.  

Adam’s cock stood hard and ready, twitching with eagerness. “That’s right, don’t forget it,” he sneered, his voice rough with anticipation. The space between them seemed to shrink instantly as he moved closer, his presence overwhelming. Before Val could even call “action,” Adam had his hands on him, dragging him toward the bed with a strength that startled him.  

For a fallen angel stripped of his power, Adam’s force was unexpected. Valentino grunted, his body twisting as Adam shoved him onto the plush mattress, his hands sinking into the soft cover as his knees dropped low. The shift was sudden, and the moment he tried to retort, he felt it – the hot, throbbing tip of Adam’s cock pressing insistently against his entrance.  

No foreplay. Typical, Val thought bitterly. He barely suppressed a growl, his voice sharp as he barked, “Get me the fucking lube!” One of the crew tossed a bottle onto the bed, and Val grabbed it, glaring over his shoulder at Adam. “Here. Dick Master, the lube,” he spat, holding it out.  

Adam, with a smug grin, tilted his head, the light catching his curling horns. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement, enjoying Val’s irritation. “Say please,” Adam teased, his voice dripping with mock superiority, his fat tip nudging harder against Valentino’s tight ass. “And maybe I’ll consider it.” 

The burn of Adam’s cock pushing at him without any preparation sent a flash of pain through Valentino. His fingers dug into the mattress as he considered for a split second snapping this fool’s neck, but he resisted.  

Adam might be a fallen man, a drunk, but Valentino had witnessed his power. Better not to test him now – especially like this. His jaw clenched behind his smile. “Please,” he forced out, his voice edged with venom, his eyes flashing behind his pink sunglasses.  

The sharp click of the lube opening made Val’s breath hitch. Finally. But instead of applying it properly, Adam unceremoniously dumped the cold gel over Valentino’s ass, the slick liquid trailing between his cheeks in a way that made him flinch. Before he could protest, Adam surged forward, and the thick length of him was buried deep in Valentino in one brutal thrust.  

Valentino’s breath left him in a harsh gasp, his body tensing as he tried to adjust to the size of him. He hadn’t expected this. The stretch, the heat – it was overwhelming. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, his head dropping low, instinctively raising his hips higher to take more.  

Adam huffed from above, his breath ragged with exertion. “Shit, look at how tight your fucking ass is,” he growled, his hips snapping forward again, slamming into Valentino without mercy. His balls slapped against Valentino’s; the sound obscene in the otherwise quiet room. “Come on, call my name,” he demanded, each thrust deeper and more relentless than the last.  

The force of the fucking pushed Valentino’s body down into the mattress, his face pressed into the sheets, his mouth open in shock and pleasure. Every stroke hit him perfectly, driving into his prostate with precision. He had no choice but to submit, his body overwhelmed by pleasure. “Oh fuck, Dick Master,” he moaned, his voice muffled as his ass clenched around Adam’s cock, drawing him in deeper. His second pair of arms reached back, spreading his cheeks wide in surrender. “Fucking dump your hot cum in me, Dick Master!” 

Valentino couldn’t believe it. This man, who had one been grand, reduced to a drunken, debauched sinner, was fucking him with a raw, feral intensity. Valentino’s own cock was dripping, leaking pre-cum onto the sheets as his body began to tremble, the orgasm building inside him. He was so close, so fucking close, his cock twitching uncontrollably with every rough thrust.  

“Oh fuck, yea, tighten that ass for me,” Adam groaned, his hands pried Valentino's finger off his ass before his large hand smacked Valentino’s ass hard, sending a burst of heat and pain through him. The sharp sting only added to the pleasure, his cheeks burning under Adam’s touch.  

Had Adam been anyone else, Valentino would have killed him by now, the indignity too great to suffer. But here he was, moaning like a common whore, his body betraying him as his hips bucked back, asking for more.  

He reached down with one hand, desperate, jerking his own cock in time with Adam’s brutal pace. The need for release consumed him, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as Adam continued to pound into him, his body on fire with the sheer intensity of it all.  

Adam’s rough hand came down again, a sharp smack echoing in the room as he slapped Valentino’s ass hard, sending a burst of heat through his skin. “Fucking call my name, bitch.” Adam growled, his hips driving forward with reckless abandon, his heavy balls slapping against Valentino’s own with every thrust.  

Valentino was a mess of sensations, his voice strained as he moaned loudly, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in his core. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” he panted, his hands working frantically over his own cock, chasing that edge, his release just unreachable. “Dick Master, Dick Master,” he chanted, the words spilling from his lips in between gasps. The sound of their bodies slamming together filled the room, wet and messy as the intensity grew, Adam’s cock throbbing deep inside him.  

Valentino could feel it – the way Adam’s cock pulsed within his walls, the heat of his skin against Valentino’s own. Adam’s strong, meaty hands gripped Valentino’s waist, nearly bruising as he yanked him back, his growl animalistic, primal.  

With a final, powerful thrust, Adam slammed into Val, his hips crashing against him as he came, hot spurts of cum flooding Valentino’s insides. The sensation sent Valentino over the edge, and with a low, guttural moan, his own orgasm hit, thick ropes of cum splashing across the sheets in waves of release.  

As Adam pulled out, Valentino’s body quivered, his muscles slack and trembling. A gush of thick cum spilled from his ass, leaking onto the bed, mixing with the mess of his own release. He was panting; his cock still throbbed, the haze of his orgasm lingering in the warmth of his body. 

Flipping onto his back, Valentino let his eyes flutter closed for a moment, basking in the aftermath of it all. His lips curled into a grin as he looked up at Adam, mischief and hunger still lingering in his gaze. “Oh, Dick Master,” Val purred, his voice low and teasing. “How about a second round?” 

But Adam, now limp, simply sniffed dismissively. His cock hung loose, semen still dripping from the tip, as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry, dude,” he said with a shrug, barely looking down at Val. “But I’m more of a tits and ass man myself, and you’re lacking in all that department.” 

Val’s eyes widened, shock overtaking his features. He stared up at Adam, his body still buzzing from the aftermath of their encounter, his ass still twitching from being thoroughly fucked. Did this man – just reject me? Valentino?

Adam, oblivious to the tension, barked out toward the studio, his voice loud and demanding. “Now, where’s the free booze and sexy ladies over here!”  

Val lay frozen on the bed, his muscles stiffening as the reality of what just happened sank in.  

Adam, the first man.  

Adam, the Dick Master.  

Adam, the first sinner in all of Hell to reject Valentino.  

“Enjoy your drinks while you can, Dick Master,” Valentino muttered under his breath, his lips curling into a sinister smile. His fury simmered into a dark, twisted resolve. He would make Adam pay – oh, he’d get his revenge. But it wouldn’t be quick, nor would it be simple.  

Valentino was an artist, after all.  

Adam may have been the first man to reject him, but Valentino would make sure that he would be the last.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[maybe-boys-do-love]

The On1y One Loves School

Maybe it's a cultural thing, maybe it's the nerd angle, but The On1y One depicts my high school experiences with so much more accuracy (excluding one kidnapping that I think we can all collectively choose to ignore) than any other show I've seen. We got a field day episode, but we haven't attended one sports event. The one party we saw was the group going out to dinner together. Riverdale this is not.

The show really understands the perspectives and emotions of these bright students. In the first episode, there's an extended sequence observing the students while they take an exam. They could've played it to show Sheng Wang making faces or talking to himself as he struggled through it. Instead we pan across the room while the gentle guitar music plays. For these kids, there's comfort in the routines of school, especially for our lead couple who've struggled so much with their home life. We get so many scenes about studying and comparing answers, teasing each other with poetic structures.

But, despite their commonality as top students, they're still incredibly realistic teenagers, and a diverse group of personalities, at that. There are clowns, class president types, popular kids, loners. Even with those differences, episode 9 with its field day demonstrated the comradery that forms amongst a class, which was make-shift and oriented more toward their teachers than comparing themselves to their peers.

The teachers and the students' relationship to them also receives the same attention to detail. In high school, students, in my experience, have dynamics that are closer and more playful with their teachers. The back-and-forth about the Class A shirts and the bet felt true-to-life. As a former teacher, the depictions of the teachers throughout the series have also been spot-on. They have different teaching approaches, different ways of relating and showing care to students, and they don't all see each other that often. If Jenny had simply received a letter from Qi Jia's parents criticizing her (instead of, you know, getting kidnapped at knife-point and then going back to field day like it happens all the time), the list of doubts about her methods would be the same as those that go through teachers' minds all the time.

I sincerely wonder if the writer, either of the novels, or someone involved with the development of the show was formerly a teacher? The show sees the school and the people in it with such detail. The reason we don't need something big (like, say, an armed kidnapping) is because the intense teenage emotions heighten all the everyday moments. Qi Jia's confusion and breakdown about belonging, Jian Tiang's 'very moments' and poetic narration, Sheng Wang's affronted attitude toward his dad: these are teenagers overwhelmed by their hormones and trying their best to make sense of everything. But the show almost always (minus a certain event that I'm done naming) observes them from an affectionate distance, refusing to turn the drama of their minds into a dramatic narrative. Instead, we get a tender view of pencil boxes, forms, studying strategies, phone notifications, or mugs on teacher's desks: the mundane highs and lows in high school infused with secret feelings that made us all feel insane.

[justallmyfantasies]

usage of his camera

good use of his camera.

series masterlist

contains: 18+ smut (oral m/f receiving, piv unprotected, praise, little teasing, aftercare)

word count: 4.4k

MINORS DONT INTERACT

the sun had set, the stars slowly rising into the sky. the air felt crisp making goosebumps fall onto your skin. you and alex were on the balcony of your bedroom, staring up at the stars. you were fond of this kind of stuff.

you leaned against the railing of the balcony of your bedroom, your eyes tracing the constellations in the vast expanse above you. the stars twinkled like tiny diamonds against the black velvet backdrop, casting a soft glow over the horizon.

alex appeared beside you, joining you in admiring the celestial display. you could feel his warmth radiating towards you as he placed his hand in yours.

"it's beautiful, isn't it?" alex said quietly, his gaze still fixed on the stars. you smiled and nodded in agreement, feeling his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

you both stood there in comfortable silence for a few moments, taking in the serene atmosphere. the only sound that was heard was the occasional gust of wind rustling the leaves of the nearby trees.

you slowly let go of alex’s hand, heading back inside for a second. you walked over to the bedside table and grabbed alex’s camera.

feeling the cool metal of the camera in your hand, you walked back towards the balcony and lifted the camera to your eye. you focused on the stars above, adjusting the settings to capture the beauty of the night.

but alex couldn't help but notice the frustration that flashed across your face. despite your attempts to capture the beauty of the night sky, the camera just wouldn't cooperate with you.

“it’s not focusing!”

alex tried to help, explaining the intricacies of focus and exposure, but his words fell on deaf ears. your frustration was building with each failed attempt to capture that perfect shot. finally, after several failed attempts, alex suggested a different perspective. you followed his guidance, adjusting the angle and adjusting the settings.

and then, finally, the perfect shot. the camera captured the stars perfectly, their brilliance shining through the lens and onto the camera screen.

alex looked over your shoulder to see the picture you had just taken and gave you a nod of approval. "you see?" he said with a smile. "you just needed a different perspective."

you couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of satisfaction with your accomplishment. "i guess i did," you replied, handing him the camera. "now you try."

alex took the camera, sitting down on the seat in the corner of the balcony. “i could think of a few ways to use this camera, you know.”

you raised your eyebrows, a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. "oh yeah?" you replied, feeling a heat stirring in your stomach. "do tell."

alex smirked, fiddling with the camera settings as he spoke. "well, i'm sure we could come up with something creative." he said, his eyes dancing with playful anticipation.

you felt a wave of excitement wash over you at the suggestion. "i'm all ears," you said teasingly as you moved closer to alex, your fingers tracing light patterns on his arm.

alex looked up from the camera and met your gaze, his expression a mix of desire and intrigue. "how far are you willing to take it?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

you felt your heart racing beneath your chest, your mind racing with possibilities. "as far as you want." you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. your eyes locked with his, a million unspoken words passing between you in an instant.

alex's lips curved into a sly smile, and he set the camera aside. he stood up, his body pressed against yours, igniting a fire within you. "well then, let's see what we can create together," he whispered into your ear before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

you kissed him back with a burning intensity, his mouth tasting like cigarettes and the whiskey from earlier. your hands exploring the contours of his body, hungry for more. the stars above you seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a blazing inferno of desire.

alex picked you up effortlessly, also grabbing the camera from the side, carrying you into the bedroom as he continued to kiss you. he lay you down on the bed, his body covering yours. he pulled away slightly, gazing at you with a mixture of hunger and affection.

he grabbed the camera that was carefully placed beside you. "now then," alex murmured, his voice low and husky, "let's make a little art."

you watched with breathless anticipation but also a flicker of nervousness as he positioned the camera, adjusting the settings. he had a vision. you could tell. he wasn't going to give up until he captured what he was looking for.

alex took a few steps back, his fingers toying with the buttons on the camera, framing you carefully. you could feel the intensity of his gaze, his eyes blazing with lust and passion as he studied you like a masterpiece.

you tried your best to stay still, but the anticipation was building within you. you could hear the shutter clicking as he took the picture, each click sending a shiver down your spine. alex's expressions remained concentrated yet playful, his movements smooth and decisive. He was in control, and you were completely his.

finally, he lowered the camera, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "perfect." he murmured, his voice laced with a mix of desire and admiration. he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently trace your cheek with his fingertips. the camera hung forgotten in his other hand.

"now, where were we?"

without another word, he rejoined you on the bed, his lips crashed onto yours once more. you let yourself become lost in the moment, in the heat of his kiss and the strength of his embrace. the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you.

his hands traveled over your body, exploring every inch of you with a combination of tenderness and urgency. every touch sent sparks of desire coursing through your veins, leaving you aching for more. you returned his affections with equal fervor, your hands tugging at his clothes, eager to feel his bare skin against yours.

a low groan escaped his lips as your hands found their way under his shirt, your nails raking lightly over his skin. he deepened the kiss, his tongue entwining with yours in a passionate dance. the room was filled with the sounds of breathless gasps and soft moans as you gave in to each other.

alex's hands were everywhere, exploring places you couldn't even begin to count, creating a new symphony of sensations that seemed to harmonize with the night. you couldn't help but respond in kind, your lips breaking away from his only to explore his jawline and neck, making him shiver in pleasure.

alex reached the edge of your clothing, his fingers teasingly tracing the hem before slipping under the fabric, finding your boobs. his touch was electric, and you couldn't help but arch into him, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

with deliberate slowness, alex began to undress you, peeling off layers of clothing as if unwrapping a precious gift. each article removed revealed a little more of you, adding fuel to the fire that burned within both of you. he paused occasionally to kiss and taste the newly exposed skin, his lips leaving trails of fire.

as you lay there, bare before him, alex took a moment to admire the sight before him. the way the moonlight illuminated your body, the rise and fall of your chest with each ragged breath, the vulnerability and trust in your eyes. it was everything he ever wanted.

with the camera in his hand, alex positioned himself above you. “cover your tits with your hands.” once you did, you heard the faint click of the camera. “perfect.” alex mumbled.

your heart was racing, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through you. the camera shutter had clicked, capturing the image of your vulnerability and your submission. alex moved above you, capturing yet another shot, and then another.

he trailed a hand down your body, his touch sending chills to your core. "you're so beautiful." he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin. it was the most intimate feeling you've ever experienced, his praise and admiration wrapped up in the act of capturing you in a photograph.

his face was hovering inches above yours, and you could see the raw desire written across his features. "i can't resist you." he whispered before claiming your mouth in a hungry kiss. the camera was momentarily set aside as he lost himself in the moment, his lips exploring every inch of you.

you kissed back with equal fervour, feeling the hair from his beard tickling your chin. your hands gripped his shoulders, your body arching into his. the heat between you had reached new heights, the line between tenderness and desperation blurred. the camera lay neglected, its work slightly finished, yet the passion between you only seemed to grow stronger.

the room was filled with the sounds of your shared breaths and the rustle of the bedsheets. the only light now came from the silvery moonlight, casting the two of you in a soft glow of passion. the air was thick with desire and a million unspoken words.

as alex's lips moved down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, you lost yourself in him fully, your fingers tangled in his hair, your moans echoing in the quiet room. as alex continued to lavish attention on you, you felt the need to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your hands. you reached for his shirt, tugging it upwards, wanting to feel his bare chest against yours.

alex obliged, allowing you to remove his shirt. his body was a sculpture, every muscle defined and taut. you ran your hands over his chest, unable to conceal the pure admiration in your touch. he shivered under your fingers, his breathing becoming ragged.

his eyes drank in the sight as you took your panties came completely off, his gaze filled with adoration and longing. his hands traced along your skin, his touch like a brand, marking you as his. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against you.

you couldn't help but moan softly as he continued his delicate teasing, his lips trailing ever closer to where you needed him most. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place, the anticipation building within you until you thought you would combust.

the anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body shivering with longing. you could hear alex's ragged breath, his need echoing your own. "alex," You gasped, his name like a plea on your lips. "please."

alex's response was a low groan, his lips finding their mark, his tongue delving into your core, his beard tickling you. you cried out, your hand flying into his hair, holding him against you, needing more of him. the pleasure was overwhelming, your body arching into his touch, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

alex continued his relentless assault, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you, each one more intense than the last. the room was filled with the sound of your moans and his name escaping your lips like a fervent prayer.

your body was aflame, each nerve ending tingling with bliss. you could feel the heat building within you, a tidal wave of sensation about to crest. his hands on you became more insistent, his movements more demanding, pushing you closer to the edge.

"come for me, darling." alex growled against you, his voice rough with desire. his words sent a shiver down your spine, the command echoing in your ears. he knew just how to push you over the edge. your body tightened, the pleasure peaking, and then you were coming undone, your breath catching in your throat as you gasped his name.

alex guided you through the aftershock, his lips leaving gentle kisses on your thighs and stomach while you slowly descended back to reality. "you did so good for me, baby." he whispered.

in the wake of one climax, a hunger for another began to take hold. you could see it burning in alex's eyes as well, an inferno that needed to be quenched. you pulled him up, crashing your lips onto his. you could taste yourself on his lips, your hands roaming over his body with renewed fervour.

alex’s hands roamed over your body, igniting every nerve ending with his touch. he kissed you hard, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance of dominance and desire. it was like he was trying to devour you, and you were more than willing to let him devour you whole.

the heat radiating between you intensified, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that was as old as time itself. every touch, every kiss, was an affirmation of your connection, a promise that this night was just the beginning of so much more. the world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of you locked in a bubble of ecstasy.

your hands trailed to the waistband of alex's pants, your fingers lingering there. alex let out a low groan, his hips shifting under your touch. "fuck, you're driving me crazy." he murmured, his voice heavy with desire.

he leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands wandering down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

you kissed him back with equal passion, your own hunger rising to match his. your hands moved lower, unfastening the button of his pants. alex broke the kiss, biting his lip as he watched your hands. his breath was ragged, his eyes dark with need.

you pulled down his pants, letting them pool around his feet. alex stepped out of them, standing before you in just his boxers. you ran your hands over the fabric, teasing around the edge, feeling the hardness beneath. alex groaned, his hips moving against your touch. “i need you, so bad.”

the words sent a shiver through you, your body responding automatically to his confession. you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him teasingly. "show me." you whispered, your lips ghosting over his ear. alex shuddered, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

he claimed your lips once more, his kiss deep and hungry. his tongue danced with yours, his need for you evident in every move. your hands slipped under the waistband of his boxers, cupping him through the fabric.

your touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. he moaned your name into your mouth, his hips thrusting against your hand. "now, don't tease." he managed to say, his voice thick with desire.

you chuckled softly, the sound filled with anticipation. "i'm not teasing." you replied, sliding his boxers down his hips. the action left him bare before you, fully exposed. you felt powerful, knowing that you were the source of his need, his desire.

you let your eyes roam over his body, the anticipation building within you. your hands trailed over his skin, exploring every inch, every curve. alex watched you, his gaze burning with a mix of lust and vulnerability. his breath hitched as your fingers brushed over his sensitive spots, his body tensing in anticipation.

you flipped him over, so that you were positioned between his legs. suddenly, you took him in your mouth which caused a light moan from him. his hands straight to your hair as if to carry on.

your tongue danced over him, his hand pushing your head making you take him deeper. you didn’t mind. he quickly grabbed the camera with the other hand and snapped a photo.

the click of the camera made you pause for a second. alex had just captured such an intimate moment, forever preserving it on film. you were stunned by the level of trust and intimacy this act represented.

“so fucking sexy.” he managed to whisper.

the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and heat that left you teetering. alex’s breathing was ragged, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly.

"fuck, baby." alex rasped out, his voice a husky whisper. "you’re doing so good, fuck."

his orgasm eventually approached, his hips moving frantically and more impatient. his release came, a long, deep moan with it. you swallowed.

the intensity of his climax left you feeling empowered, proud to have brought him to such heights. as alex recovered from the aftershocks, pleasure still radiating through his body, he pulled you back up, his lips taking yours again.

as you returned the kiss, alex reached for the camera once more, pressing the shutter release to capture another moment. the camera flashed, imprinting the image of your entwined lips, and the passion between you, onto the film.

the camera was momentarily forgotten as alex’s attention returned to you. this time. he flipped you back over, him seeking dominance again.

he trailed kisses down your body, tracing a path of electricity with his lips. his hands were everywhere, igniting every nerve ending they touched. you were aflame under his ministrations, your body responding to his every touch, every kiss, eagerly. his name escaped your lips, a plea and a prayer at once.

he held his cock, lining it up with your entrance. he slowly pushed inside of you, your hands gripped his shoulders as his hips slowly rocked. he earned a moan from you, making his moves more faster than before. you legs wrapped around his hips which made his pace grow frantic, his movements growing desperate.

the camera was completely forgotten, left on the side table, as if all that mattered in the world was this moment, a moment of pure ecstasy and connection. you couldn't help but surrender to it, letting yourself fall deeper into the abyss of pleasure he was leading you towards.

alex pulled away from you, the sudden absence of his lips leaving you wanting more. "look at me, baby," he said, his voice thick with desire. "look at me.”

your gaze met his, his eyes locking with yours. the intensity there took your breath away. you could feel the electricity surging between you, a current that seemed to pulse in perfect rhythm with the pounding of your heart.

his eyes held yours as he plunged back into you, his movements deep and passionate. his name left your lips in a gasp, a plea, a whispered prayer. with every thrust, every touch, the flames of desire grew higher, threatening to consume you completely. alex's gaze never wavered, his eyes holding you captive in a web of pleasure and connection.

the room seemed to spin, the world narrowing down to this moment, this feeling. there was only you and alex, together in this whirlwind of sensations that threatened to engulf you entirely. each thrust brought you closer to a peak you knew would be blissful and blinding, but the promise of that release only served to drive your need higher, deeper, more desperate.

the pressure built within you, each moment pushing you higher, closer to the edge. you could see it in alex's eyes that he was close too, his breaths coming in short gasps, his body beginning to tremble ever so slightly. you were both on the cusp, ready to fall together into oblivion.

"come with me," he breathed, his voice a rasping plea, his thrusts growing erratic, mirroring the erratic beating of your heart. "let yourself go with me, love."

the climax hit you like a tidal wave, a mix of ecstasy and release that coursed through your entire body. you called out his name, your voice echoing against the walls, the sound of it mingling with his as he followed suit, tumbling over the edge with you into a realm of pure bliss.

the afterglow was a gentle descent, as if slowly drifting towards a safe harbor after a storm. alex held you close, his body still shaking slightly from the exertion. it was a profound moment of quiet intimacy, punctuated only by the soft sounds of your breathing mingling in the room. the camera remained forgotten beside you, capturing images of something far more precious than mere photographs—the memory of this shared moment, the union of two souls.

in the gentle bliss that followed, you found yourself tracing idle patterns on his shoulder with your fingertips, the rhythmic motion lulling both of you into a state of tranquility.

“come on, i’ll run you a bath.” alex's voice was a whisper, a gentle coaxing to bring you from the blissful haze you were in. he lifted himself up, his movements slow and deliberate as if he were trying not to disturb the peace too suddenly.

"a bath sounds perfect,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. you stretched your arms above your head, relishing in the subtle ache in your muscles.

he stood up, offering his hand to help you up from the bed. his touch was familiar yet comforting, a reminder of the connection you shared. as you stood up beside him, he pulled you into a tender kiss before leading the way to the en-suite bathroom. he started to run the bath.

as the water began to fill the tub, alex added soothing bath salts, creating a tranquil aroma that filled the room. the warm steam rose from the water's surface, creating a hazy ambiance.

the bath was soon filled, soft bubbles floating on the surface, inviting you to surrender to their gentle embrace.

the sound of running water filled the room, a soft background melody to the quiet peace between you. the bathroom was illuminated by a soft glow, the warm light creating a cozy ambiance. alex stepped aside, letting you immerse yourself in the warm, soothing water, the scent of lavender from the bath bombs permeating the air.

you sank into the water, feeling the tension ease from your muscles as the warmth enveloped you. it was as if you were being cocooned in a soothing embrace, your body relaxing deeper into it with each passing moment. the stress of the day melting away into the water, replaced by a feeling of tranquility. you washed your body before alex started on your hair.

as you lounged in the bathtub, alex sat on the side of the tub, helping you wash your hair. his hands were gentle but firm, massaging your scalp and lathering your hair with shampoo. it was a soothing ritual, a private moment of intimacy where the world outside the bathroom seemed to fade away.

the scent of the coconut shampoo mingled with the lavender, creating a calming atmosphere. you glanced up at alex, offering a soft smile to express your gratitude for this simple act of care. you leaned back, allowing him to guide you through this gentle cleansing ritual, the sound of running water and alex's breathing adding to the peaceful ambiance.

the shampoo rinsed away, leaving your hair freshly clean and smelling pleasantly of lavender. alex picked up a small tub of conditioner, pouring a generous amount onto his hands. slowly, he began to apply it to your hair, each stroke methodical and soothing. you closed your eyes, feeling the conditioner working its magic, taming and nourishing your locks with its moisturizing properties.

as he worked the conditioner through your hair, his fingers continued their journey down to your shoulders. he kneaded out any remaining knots, his touch steady and precise. the simple act of a massage seemed to have the power to erase all lingering traces of stress, leaving you feeling loose and limber.

you let out a contented sigh, the peaceful silence of the moment only interrupted by the soft sounds of alex's touch. the bathroom was a cozy sanctuary of tranquility, the world beyond the door held at bay by the serene ambiance within.

alex rinsed off the last of the conditioner, the water swirling down the drain like a miniature waterfall. the tub was now almost empty, the only remnants being a few floating bubbles and the lingering scent of lavender. alex reached for a large, fluffy towel, and wrapped you in it as you stepped out of the tub.

he pulled you into a gentle hug, the warm towel enveloping you like a cocoon. the scent of the bath bombs, the feeling of his arms around you, combined with the serene atmosphere created a moment of complete comfort and contentment.

“thank you.”

alex pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours. he smiled softly, his voice carrying a hint of tenderness. "you don't have to thank me, love.” he said. "taking care of you is something i want to do." he kissed the top of your head gently, his affection evident.

the gesture was simple, yet it spoke volumes of his love and care. the bath had not only cleansed your body but also nurtured your soul, the comforting atmosphere and the gentle moments shared with alex creating a sense of peace within you.

“i love you.” you murmured.

"i love you too, sweet." alex replied softly, his words a simple but powerful affirmation. he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his gaze unwavering. the moment hung in the air, filled with the weight of the sincere affection between you.

"now, let's get some rest." alex suggested, his voice filled with fondness. he led you to the bedroom, helping you dress in a pair of soft pyjamas before tucking you into bed. the room was still warm and inviting from the bath, the atmosphere comfortable and cozy.

he climbed into bed beside you, pulling the blanket up to cover both of you. you felt the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he settled beside you. the faint glow of the moonlight illuminated the room, casting a soft silver light over everything.

in the quiet darkness, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the sound of alex’s breathing and the warmth of the blankets lulling you gently into sleep. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate cocoon of comfort and love.

and in that moment, there was no need for words. the feeling of being cared for was all the affirmation you needed.

a/n: hi might not be posting as frequently at the moment but i’ll try!!! anyway enjoy this one

[kcamberart]

how do you get your shapes and models looking so well?!?!? especially your pokemon renders they're amazing, i need to know your secrets if you're willing to share

Thank you! There's a few different aspects that go into making my stuff look "presentable," but I find that manipulating perspective while working on my renders plays a huge part in making them look better than they would otherwise, especially since I usually try to keep my poly count as low as possible. Since the majority of my 3D art is intended to be seen only from certain angles and doesn't have to be exported to a game or something where people could view them in full, I can take a lot of liberties with it. For example, here's a render from a few years ago (2022) that I still like:

And here's what it looks like "off camera"

Everything is made of very simple shapes cobbled together to look like something more complex when viewed from the intended angle.

The materials, shaders and post-processing effects used can really help things look more impressive, as well. I tried my hand at (partially) sculpting in Blender recently (based on this Pokemon trading card), and here's the result without any shaders or effects, and then fully rendered:

For this one, everything is still made up of relatively simple shapes, and the materials and lighting are doing a lot of the heavy lifting (if you're curious about my process for materials and lighting, I've posted about that a bit here and here and elsewhere on my blog).

But anyway, that's just my process as a self-taught hobbyist. Hope my rambling made sense!

[trashytummies]

Swallowed Pride (DC vore fic)

a/n: have a protective Nightwing ft. unwilling Jason prey vore fic. lil batfamily vibsey <3. oh and jason also has some not fun memories of dying. I adore vore fics with swapping perspectives so I'm sorry if this is confusing ;_; word count: ~4100?

_____

Jason groaned, a low rasp slipping out of his throat. His surroundings pulsed with a damp, oppressive heat that clawed at his skin, slicking his gloves and making it almost impossible to catch his breath. His ribs ached, and every inch of him felt trapped in this unrelenting, humid vise. He tried to shift, to get his back against something solid, but every motion was swallowed up, met with a suffocating resistance.

"Alright," he muttered, voice hoarse. “This is… new.”

The taste in the air was wrong. A grimace twisted his face as he tried to shift, finding no space to move, wedged between layers of damp, fleshy walls. Not rock. Not exactly wet stone, either. Just too soft. Too warm.

Not rubble. Nothing jagged. Smooth. 

The sound of his own breathing grew louder, rasping in and out as he tried to twist himself free. But all he managed was to slide further down this bizarre chute. A flicker of panic flashed across his mind, sharp and unwelcome. It tugged at something buried deep, something he didn’t let himself think about, ever. But it was there now; the sensation of heat, tightness, the press of earth and smoke. Like that day. Like-- 

No. Nope, he wasn’t doing that. Not thinking about that, not now.

His mind buzzed, digging through memories. He’d been with the team; Red, Nightwing, and yeah, of course, Bats. The mission had gotten a little out of hand; Tim needed backup, and -- then what? Everything between then and now was a haze. A big, dripping, burning haze.

Jason tried to focus, replaying the moments just before; the alley, then that abandoned office building, and then… nothing. And now this cave-like, sweltering pit. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, smearing against his mask as he twisted, trying to plant his knees against something solid. Every breath felt like he was sucking down steam, heat pressing on him from every angle.

"Okay, Todd. Get it together. Think.” He glanced around --or tried to, anyway, but there was no way to tell which way was up or down. Just that same smooth, slimy pressure squeezing in on all sides, his own breaths coming back hot against his face.

“Hey, anyone out there?” he called, the words half-lost in the wet slap of whatever lined this... place. But all he got was a soft, rhythmic groan surrounding him, almost like a heartbeat, steady and smothering.

Another wave of pressure tightened around him, shoving him further into the suffocating darkness. His heart pounded, thoughts scattering like shrapnel, sharp and fast. Buried alive. That sick, clawing sensation washed over him, dredging up memories he had no intention of revisiting. Explosions. Dirt pressing in on him, the weight of concrete and metal trapping him, his own voice screaming for help, and--

No. Not now.

He gritted his teeth, frustration biting deep. “Red? Wing? I swear, if you two left me in a sewer pipe or something...” He twisted his head, grumbling to himself, but everything came out muffled, absorbed by this pulsing, humid space.

_________________________

Rewind 

Rewind

Rewind

The scene swirled back into focus, through the last thirty chaotic minutes that landed on the exact moment Dick realized something was really wrong.

Jason was supposed to be covering the south side, running point with Tim across the courtyard. But when Dick looked back after clearing a corner, he’d caught sight of Jason crumpling, mid-swing, into the pavement. Jason wasn’t just down; he was tiny. Like, two inches max, knocked out cold, and sprawled out on the ground.

Dick’s jaw had practically hit the rooftop. “Holy shit,” he hissed, blinking hard like maybe he’d just taken a hit to the head himself.

Nope.

That was definitely Jason, definitely bite-sized, and lying defenseless in the middle of Gotham’s grimiest alley. He barely had time to process it, and he was not about to leave Jason sitting in the gutter like some abandoned Happy Meal toy.

Okay, Grayson. Think.

He glanced down at his suit, mentally running through every hidden pocket and compartment. Utility belt? No way -- too much jostling. The pocket lining would probably suffocate the guy, or worse, turn him into shrunken pulp if Dick took a hit. Same with any of his stash spots. Then the next best thought crossed his mind -- and immediately died a fiery death.

But hell, with the goons doubling back, any hesitation could leave Jason vulnerable, or worse. He had seconds to act.

So he did something that, in his defense, seemed like the only solution in the moment.

One quick breath, and he scooped Jason up, tipping him carefully onto his tongue. Jason’s tiny body felt solid, almost surprisingly weighty, considering his new size. Dick hesitated, the reality of this insane decision finally hitting home. He closed his eyes, steeling himself, and with the gentlest nudge, he swallowed.

It was, well, uncomfortable didn’t even start to cover it. Jason slipped down in a slow, thick slide, an odd pressure that made Dick grit his teeth. Each inch felt painfully deliberate, his throat constricting around Jason’s shape until he finally, mercifully, settled in place. Dick coughed, trying to compose himself just in time to hear Tim's footsteps against the concrete as he caught up.

“Dick!” Tim called, eyes scanning him over, then narrowing. “What the hell was that?”

Dick barely managed to suppress another cough, swallowing hard. “What was what?” he choked out, voice barely steady.

Tim’s brow arched, skeptical, like he’d seen through every bullshit excuse Dick had ever tried in his entire life. “I saw you cough up a lung. And you’re still flushed. Look, if you’ve got something going on with your suit tech or whatever--”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Dick cut in, waving it off, trying to play up his usual charm. He gave Tim a reassuring, if slightly strained, grin. “Just--went down the wrong pipe. Happens to the best of us, right?”

Tim looked at him for a long second, head tilted, the gears clearly turning. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Dick cleared his throat one more time for emphasis. “Trust me, if I had something important to tell you, I’d tell you. Now, can we focus? There’s still three of them left.” He jerked his thumb toward the next building. “I’ll take the high ground. You flush them out?”

Tim still looked at him sideways, but he gave a reluctant nod, his gaze flicking down to Dick’s throat once more before turning back to the mission. “Fine, but if you pass out mid-jump or whatever, I’m telling Babs.”

Dick barely restrained a wince, waving Tim off as he darted toward the next alleyway. One hour, tops, he told himself. Just get the job done, clear out the area, and get Jason out safely before he has a chance to do more than mumble a few pissed-off words.

“Hang tight, Jaybird,” he muttered under his breath.

_______________________

The tight, slick walls squeezed in around him, pressing at his shoulders and ribs, forcing him to push forward just to breathe. Every inch he gained seemed to make it worse --the stifling heat, the reek of rot, like old food left out too long. Jason sucked in a shallow breath, trying to steady himself, only for the sour stench to claw at his throat. He grimaced.

"Great," he muttered, voice muffled and weak in the humid dark. "I get to suffocate and smell like someone’s garbage disposal. Just my luck."

He shoved forward, the cramped space finally loosening just enough for him to wriggle through, half crawling, half dragged along by whatever was coating these walls. He pushed his hands out and found --thank god-- something resembling open space. Not by much, but he could almost stretch out his arms, which had to count for something.

Except it didn’t. If anything, it was somehow worse in here.

The stench punched him square in the gut, stomach-churning in a way that brought back memories he’d worked pretty damn hard to bury. The heat. The way it pressed down on him, cloying, sticky, unyielding. The dark was so thick it was like he could feel it pressing in on his skin. Too close to those old memories. Too close to the kind of helpless that made his chest feel like it might cave in.

Jason let out a low, shaky breath, pressing his palm to the wall for some semblance of stability. "Come on, Todd. Focus. Think." He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to training, his instincts settling in. What the hell even is this place? The entire thing was soft, slick, like… flesh.

“Okay, no, that’s insane. I’m not…” He swallowed, panic prickling at the edges of his mind. But the clues pieced together too neatly, each one sliding in like a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. The walls, the cramped squeeze, the pulsing, muffled beat that droned around him like a heartbeat. His mind filled in the blanks faster than he wanted, and all at once, the truth slammed into him, cold and hard.

I’m in a stomach.

A stomach. A literal fucking stomach.

The idea hit him with a nauseating kind of clarity that almost made him laugh. He’d been trained by the world’s greatest detective, could read Gotham’s dirtbags better than most, and now he was trapped here, in someone’s gut, like the punchline to a twisted joke he never asked for.

He blinked, swallowing down a rush of bile. “So that’s it, huh?” he rasped, pressing his back to the fleshy wall, the whole setup feeling like some cruel rerun of a life he’d already lived. “I got blown up once. Came back, just to get tossed down the gullet. Nice. Really nice, universe. I appreciate it.”

The walls around him pulsed again, contracting in a slow, smothering rhythm, dragging his thoughts to that dark corner of his mind he tried to keep locked away. Buried alive. Alone. Left for dead. Panic tried clawing its way up his throat, but he shoved it down, clenching his fists until his gloves squeaked against the slick wall. Not like this.

No way he was letting some freak’s digestive tract do him in.

________________________________

Dick ducked under a swinging fist, pivoting out of the way with practiced ease. But the moment he twisted, a sudden sharp scratch clawed up from the pit of his stomach. He doubled over, a hand instinctively pressing against his abdomen, muttering under his breath.

“Oh, so you’re awake,” he grunted, voice low enough to avoid Tim’s ears but sharp enough to keep his irritation real. “And apparently pissed off.”

Jason gave another few furious kicks --or punches, maybe a full-body tantrum-- against the walls of Dick’s stomach, which only made him wince harder. Man, this is… Well, it was something. Distracting as hell, actually, when he was in the middle of a brawl with some of Gotham’s least creative henchmen.

Tim’s eyes zeroed in on him, skeptical, a hard squint as he landed a punch and sidled up. “Uh, you good? ‘Cause you’re making faces like you just ate bad sushi.”

“Yeah, yeah, just a little… stomach thing,” Dick managed, breath catching as Jason squirmed again. He leaned into his strikes, using the motion to cover a particularly sharp jab coming from inside.

Tim just kept staring, a brow arching. “In the middle of a fight? You’re usually more… I dunno. Here.”

“I am here,” Dick muttered through clenched teeth, grabbing the last thug by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall. Jason gave one last pointed kick that nearly knocked the wind out of him, and he couldn’t help it -- his hand went to his stomach again. He tried to school his face, look normal, like he wasn’t dealing with a very angry, very miniature Jason Todd wreaking havoc from within.

The final goon dropped, and before Dick could so much as take a breath, Tim was right there, narrowing his eyes in that too-perceptive way he always did when he suspected something was up.

“Alright,” Tim said, crossing his arms, his usual calm replaced with the full-blown Red Robin glare. “Mind telling me what’s going on with you tonight? I’m standing there, fighting for my life, and you’re out here rubbing your stomach like you’re at a bad buffet.” He tilted his head, lowering his voice. “And where the hell is Jason? He just up and left us? Doesn’t strike me as his style.”

Dick stifled the urge to cough again, glancing away to avoid Tim’s piercing gaze. Damn it, he’s good at this. “Maybe he had somewhere else to be,” he said, attempting casual. “You know how he is. Doesn’t tell us everything.”

Tim’s eyebrow crept higher, skepticism practically radiating off him. “He doesn’t tell Bruce everything, but he doesn’t just disappear mid-mission with no heads-up. I get he’s Jason, but this is Gotham. And you’re… weirdly calm about it.”

Dick forced a quick shrug, looking anywhere but Tim’s face. “Maybe I just trust him to handle himself.” He winced as Jason scratched at him again, pressing his hand to his side as subtly as he could. “Ow-- I mean, what? You know, he’s--he’s Jason.”

Tim folded his arms tighter, a smirk quirking at his lips. “And you’re stammering like you’ve got a guilty conscience. What gives?”

Dick could feel his cover slipping fast, and he knew he’d have to come up with something, and soon. For now, he just put on his best carefree grin, hoping it was enough to get Tim to lay off.

_______________________________

The reality of his situation settled in slowly, like the world's worst punchline unfurling in slow motion. Inside a stomach. He could practically feel the bile rising. Yeah, Jason Todd had been through his share of nightmares, but this was a new low even for him. Of all the places to wind up, he’d somehow managed to get himself swallowed. Just phenomenal.

"Just where I always wanted to end up," he muttered to himself, voice barely a whisper against the damp walls pressing around him. "A one-way ticket back to near-death, and for what? One more brush with the great beyond? Because dying was just such a blast the first time.”

He took a breath, trying to steady himself against the rippling walls, feeling the clench and pull of the gut as it tried to drag him deeper. He stifled a gag, the acrid stench of half-digested food coating every breath he took. Focus, Todd. Don’t think about the smell. Or the rotting mush sliding under his feet. Or that disgusting, rhythmic gurgle echoing in his ears like a twisted lullaby.

Alright, let's see if he could at least figure out who this idiot was. He couldn’t tell much by sound -- the voice was muted, a low vibration rumbling around him like he was underwater, though he could at least pick out a male inflection. But he couldn’t just be in some random guy’s gut, right? There was someone out there with a reason to swallow the Red Hood, and… actually, nope. Scratch that. He couldn’t think of a single person willing or twisted enough to get him into this mess.

Well, almost no one.

The last thing he remembered was dealing with Clayface’s thugs, swinging punches alongside Nightwing and Red Robin. He’d been right there with them, taking out the stragglers and rounding up the goons. And then… well, then things got fuzzy. Had he been teleported? Knocked out? Honestly, being devoured alive was just insane enough to be one of Joker’s sick stunts, but no—it didn’t feel… Joker-y enough. Even he’d probably keep Jason alive just to laugh in his face.

Jason sucked in another breath, fighting the nausea clawing up his throat. “So, let’s recap,” he mumbled, digging his nails into the slippery wall. “Stuck in a guy’s gut, no memory of how I got here, no idea who the hell ate me, and oh--right. I’m literally going to die in here. Just peachy.”

The stomach lurched suddenly, sending him sliding down, only to be shoved back up again by another ripple of muscle. He grimaced, trying to brace himself. And then, through the muffled tones and the heavy, distorted beat of the stomach around him, he caught something he’d recognize anywhere--a voice. And not just any voice, that same light, upbeat cadence that he’d heard a million times, the one that used to ring in his ears with the kind of brightness that could only belong to one person.

“No way,” he whispered, his eyes narrowing in the darkness as the realization hit him like a sucker punch. It couldn’t be. He’d never be stupid enough to do something like this. But the voice, the stupid cadence, and the sheer insanity of it all were enough to make it click. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Nightwing. Dick freaking Grayson.

Jason clenched his fists, the weight of his current humiliation settling like lead in his stomach. “Of all the stupid, reckless--” he muttered, barely able to believe it. Out of every sadistic nutcase in Gotham, he’d somehow ended up inside Dick. If it weren’t happening to him right now, he’d actually laugh.

Great. Just great. Buried, literally, in the “Golden Boy.” There was something sickeningly poetic about it, and he almost hated how much it fit. The guy he’d spent years trying to measure up to, fighting to be worthy of the role, who he’d half-convinced himself Bruce could never replace. And now here he was, trapped in the one guy he’d always felt himself shadowed by. Life had a real sense of humor sometimes.

“Grayson,” he muttered, pressing a hand to his chest to keep himself from dry-heaving, “you better pray I don’t get out of here.”

Because the dark, cramped, disgustingly hot pit was a nightmare Jason wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. The fact that it was Dick’s stomach? Oh, that just made it all the worse.

Jason shifted, grimacing as his fingers slid against the slick, half-digested remnants of… falafel? He gagged, pressing his hands against the walls as best as he could to brace himself, feeling another wave of that foul, acidic slosh roll over his boots.

“This is the absolute last time I team up with Grayson,” he muttered, gritting his teeth as he shoved his way up, the sour smell sticking to him, burning his throat with every breath. “And when I get out of here, I swear to god, I’m gonna make him regret every single inch of it.”

Of course, it couldn’t be anyone else’s stomach, right? Oh no. This whole thing was practically a sick joke. Here he was, stuck inside the guy he’d spent years trying to compete with, the guy who --whether Jason wanted to admit it or not-- always seemed to have it together. Meanwhile, Jason Todd was three inches tall, covered in stomach acid, and stuck in Grayson’s gut. Story of his life.

Just then, he felt a jolt, followed by a shift that had him sliding, face-first, right back into the half-digested slush at the bottom. He clenched his teeth, fighting back a wave of frustration. “Of all the idiotic, harebrained ideas, this was the best he could come up with?”

______________________________

Outside, things were deceptively calm. The last of the thugs had been cuffed and loaded up for the GCPD, and Tim and Dick were strolling down the street toward one of Gotham’s all-night fast-food joints. Tim was keeping pace beside him, shooting glances at Dick every few steps.

“So… we’re not going to talk about how Jason just vanished?” Tim asked, giving him a look that was a few levels below ‘judgmental’ but still in ‘I’m not buying this’ territory.

Dick shrugged, a bit too casually. “He’s Jason. Vanishing is half his style.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tim muttered, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. “Except usually, he at least gives us a heads-up, or a ‘screw you guys’ wave before bailing. And you’re weirdly chill about it.”

Dick held back a sigh, trying not to squirm under the scrutiny. Just play it cool, he told himself. “I’m telling you, Tim, he’s fine. He probably just needed a minute. You know him. He’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy regroup type.”

Tim’s frown only deepened, and he looked one small mental step away from phoning Bruce for a full-scale intervention. “Fine, you’re not gonna tell me. But if he’s actually in trouble, I’ll drag his ass back here myself.” He glanced at Dick. “You’re acting weird tonight, just so you know.”

“Appreciate the vote of confidence,” Dick muttered. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look casual as they stepped inside the fast-food joint. After ordering, he gave Tim a quick pat on the shoulder. “Hey, I’ll be right back -- gotta hit the bathroom.”

Tim didn’t even try to hide his suspicion. “Yeah, sure. Take your time,” he muttered, watching him disappear down the hallway like he was mentally cataloging every weird thing Dick had done that night.

________________________________

The bathroom was barely cleaner than the streets outside, but Dick didn’t have time to be picky. He closed the door behind him and took a breath, steadying himself as he braced against the sink. He could feel Jason still squirming, punching and scratching against the walls of his stomach.

“Alright, here goes…” he muttered, hoping to hell this wasn’t about to go from weird to grotesque.

With a few deep breaths and a not-so-gentle cough, he felt the painful push as Jason finally slid up and out, spilling into his hand. Dick exhaled heavily, trying to shake off the discomfort as he looked down at the soaked, very, very irritated mini-Jason sprawled out in his palm.

Jason wiped the gunk off his helmet with a grimace, barely glancing at Dick as he dragged himself to his feet. “Well, that was disgusting.”

Dick forced a grin, trying to keep things light. “Hey, I got you out, didn’t I?”

Jason’s glare could’ve cut through concrete. “In your stomach, Grayson. I spent the last hour drowning in… whatever the hell that was!” He flicked another glob of half-digested falafel off his jacket. “Didn’t exactly help that you ate before deciding to pull that little stunt.”

Dick winced. “I mean, it’s not like I planned on eating you, Jay. Just… improvised.”

“Yeah, well, next time, how about you don’t improvise by swallowing me whole?” Jason shot back, crossing his arms and bristling like a wet, angry cat. “Who even thinks swallowing someone is a good idea? Couldn’t just carry me around in your pocket or -- oh, I don’t know, figure out literally anything else?”

Dick shrugged, still trying to play it cool. “I was out of options. And I kept you safe, didn’t I?”

“Oh yeah, thanks. Real safe, Grayson. Look at me.” Jason held his arms out, dripping, his jacket half-eaten by stomach acid. “I look like I got tossed in a blender with a lunch special.”

Dick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright. Maybe it wasn’t my best idea. But hey, you’re not too worse for wear, right?”

Jason let out a laugh, bitter and biting, eyes narrowed. “Right. Well, good to know that I rank just below ‘half-eaten falafel’ on your list of things that matter. Just toss me in the garbage while you’re at it.”

Dick’s face softened, a flicker of guilt creeping in. “C’mon, Jay, that’s not--”

Jason held up a hand, cutting him off. “Save it. And for the record? Releasing me in a fast food bathroom? Way to show the love, Grayson. Real classy.”

Dick pressed his lips together, barely holding back a smirk. “Well, next time, maybe try to stay regular-sized, and we won’t have this problem.”

Jason shot him a look that could freeze lava. “Next time, Grayson, I’m shoving you into a sewer pipe and seeing how long it takes for you to complain about it.”

Dick raised his hands in mock surrender. “Noted.” He glanced down at the tiny, furious figure in his hand and gave him a soft, almost apologetic smile. “You, uh, need a rinse or…?”

Jason rolled his eyes, wiping another layer of gunk off his boots. “Yeah, try a hundred. And maybe a therapist on standby after all this.”

Dick grinned, finally letting out a small chuckle. “Fair enough. Remind me not to tell Tim about this?”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to remind me,” Jason grumbled, crossing his arms. “Now, can we please get me out of this hellhole? And, for the record, if you ever pull this crap again…” He trailed off, fixing Dick with a hard glare. “Let’s just say I know exactly where to aim the next time I get a crowbar in my hands.”

Dick just shook his head, chuckling as he carefully tucked Jason --dignity shot, pride thoroughly bruised-- into his jacket pocket. “Alright, Red. I owe you one.”