#but trying to flesh this out as more than just a single reaction moment was a challenge

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the ask game

How do think talia would react to seeing her father loose to dick in sword fight, since I discovered this I can't stop think about how others would react

for the ask game!

this was such a fun moment in the comics for Dick's development and thinking about how other characters would react to it is so fun

so the context of Dick beating Ra's is proving himself as Bruce's heir, since Bruce just died and Dick's Nightwing run is coming to an end to make him Batman. also interestingly, is that Ra's called Dick 'Detective' during this moment, as a sign of respect. so Talia is not only reacting to Dick beating Ra's, but also Ra's extending his respect to Dick as Bruce's replacement. so like everyone else, Talia is coping with the loss of Bruce. and like everyone else, she's apprehensive at best of the idea of Dick replacing him. they're impossible shoes to fill, and she's not exactly known for liking Dick in the first place. it's a difficult, messy time for everyone.

i don't think she'd believe it, at first. there are plenty of rumors and fights always get dramatized when they're retold. so until she hears it from Ra's himself, hears the respect in his voice when he talks about Dick, that's when she finally accepts it. and well. her feelings are complicated. because her feelings about her father are complicated, but at the very least she knows he's a formidable opponent and not many people alive can beat him, especially in a sword fight. and Dick isn't even *known* as a sword fighter, it's not his specialty. so shock would be the first real reaction, from Talia. Dick and Talia do *not* have a history of liking each other, they've always been at odds whenever they're forced to be around each other. they can work with each other for a common goal, like saving Damian or Bruce, but otherwise, they just don't get along and she's not one for extending and compliments toward him. and it was easy to dismiss him as nothing more than a sidekick when he was Robin, but now he's clearly Bruce's equal, able to beat Ra's and becoming Batman. it forces her to re-evaluate her view of Dick.

i think one of the biggest changes would be her being more willing to leave Damian in Dick's care. Damian is her son, and she loves him more than anything, so it's a lot of trust for her to just leave him with Dick. (i know she has issues with it in Batman & Robin (2009) and does all sorts of nonsense but we do not acknowledge Morrison's Talia in this house i refuse ty) so it'd make her slightly more secure to know Dick is capable of defending himself and raising Damian, since he can clearly beat Ra's in a fight. it at the very least means he has something meaningful to teach Damian and will make a good mentor, even if Talia's still not too sure about trusting Dick as family to Damian. she can respect him as a teacher.

eventually, i do think she'd still check up on Dick. she'd have to see this for herself and she would just. try to fight him solely to see what he's capable of. which Dick would be. annoyed by because he's really got bigger things going on than a test from Damian's mom to see if he's fit to raise Damian. but for Talia, it's not just about Damian. it's also about Bruce. this is her beloved's mantle that Dick is wearing, and she's not just going to take Ra's' word for it that Dick is worth this mantle. Dick tries to blow her off, but Talia is absolutely insistent on the fight, threatening to take Damian from Dick, which actually gets a real reaction out of Dick.

it'd be a close fight, but Dick would eventually come out on top. and when Dick finally beats Talia, she has to face a lot of feelings at once. she has to face her grief, that Bruce is really gone. she has to face the annoying reality that this kid she's never liked his finally surpassed her and is actually worth being Bruce's successor. and she has to face that Damian loves and respects Dick as his family. she doesn't take it well, at first. she blows Dick off and struggles with the reality of it all. but once she's sat with her feelings, similar to Ra's, she would come to a grudging respect for Dick. and even like him a little bit, holding him a high regard for being able to take care of her son and shape him into a good man, and to be able to take down Ra's. it's a hard balancing act for anyone to manage. i think she'd keep some level of contact with Dick, annoying him regularly just to check in and make sure he and Damian are doing okay. it ends up healing their relationship in a way, because she's finally able to view Dick as an equal.

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader

next

You were a strange addition to the hotel.

A quiet sinner demon with no merit to speak of who just waltzed in without much fuss or fanfare. No blowing up walls, no trying to kill anyone, no entertainment what so ever.

You were so boring, Alastor didn't even want to mess with you.

...

At first.

Then, quiet and unassuming, you slowly established yourself as both over-forgiving and sharply blunt.

It was amusing watching the whiplash on a demon's face when you flip between them so much in a single day.

Once, Angel Dust was high as a kite and practically lobbed a brick at your head. Your response was "No harm done, don't worry about it." later that same day, the spider-fellow draped an arm around Vaggie's shoulder and slung some sort of ridiculous insult. You moved his arm off of her and said "You need to learn to watch what you say or I'm ripping this arm off and shoving it down your throat."

Usually that last threat would lead to some other comment, but the flat way you said it and moved on to a different subject left the spider fellow standing there without much else to say.

How amusing!

Even he was no exemption from your two-faced nature, it seemed. One moment apologizing for accidentally blocking his path, the next informing him that you'd use his antlers as forks if he didn't leave you alone. Silly little threats that were oh-so pathetic when said by such a...underwhelming, individual.

Alastor's favorite of yours was 'I'm going to eat your kidneys'. Then how rude you were to decline the cooking lesson he offered!

Typically your quips and comments were about trivial things, little things that Alastor would purposely do in order to get a reaction.

THIS TIME, THOUGH

He had a particularly annoying run in with Vox one day, trudging back to the hotel with his patience already at its limit. Husk knew better than to comment on it, shying away from him as he prowled through the lobby. Angel Dust was at the bar counter, eyeing Alastor as he strode on through.

"Ya look like shit." He commented passively.

"Thank you ever so much for the keen observation." Alastor said with a smile. Husker flinched, ears dropping. It was only then he noticed you there as well, a forgotten drink in your hand as you gaze lingered on Husk, a frown setting to your lips.

The rest of that particular exchange wasn't of any significance. It wasn't until later when you sought him out in the Hotel's parlor things escalated.

"You need to calm down."

His grin hitched up and he leered down at you. You were more than a foot shorter than him and your big eyes did little to make you look more intimidating.

"I beg your pardon, dear?"

"I said you need to calm down." Your tail swished in agitation. "I get you had a bad day but that's no reason to take it out on other people."

Alastor chuckled "Oh goodness. My apologies, my dear. But you have absolutely no ground to tell me to do anything."

He back you up against the wall, hands planted on either side of you. His antler stretched out and his eyes took on the appearance of dials as he leaned down. Sharp teeth grazed your face, hot breath stung your eyes. Claws carved their way into the wall on either side of you.

"So, my dear, what was it you said? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch it."

"I said you need to calm down."

Alastor's eye twitched, his grin twisting into something so much more unhinged. No hesitation. Were you stupid?

A look at you said yes, but you knew damn well the danger you were in. You were trembling, pupils shaking breath shallow. But you still had the nerve to speak to him that way?

"All right, what if I don't?" He purred, tracing a claw over the side of your face "Go on ahead and let me hear whatever pathetic threat you have."

"I'll bite you." spoken in that flat tone of yours.

Alastor laughed "As amusing as always-"

Pain burst from his shoulder, sharp and sticky as fangs burst through flesh. Perhaps it was shock that had him stumble back, perhaps it was amusement that allowed you to get away from him. You opened your jaw, withdrawing your teeth from his shoulder as skin and cloth clung to the spaces between your bloodied fangs.

You gave him a pointed glare as your wiped some excess blood off of your face and prowled off without so much as giving him a second glance.

He had every right to hunt you down and rip apart your soul right then and there.

Instead he found himself losing his balance, falling onto his rear on the floor. Fingers curled over the fresh and large bite mark on his shoulder. The damn thing nearly covered the entirety of between his collar bone and his arm socket.

He pulled his hand away to stare absently at his own blood.

You must be venomous. That was the only way to explain why his heart was suddenly racing and his face suddenly felt far too warm. His breathing was off, shallow and uneven.

You actually bit him.

Were your threats actually not so empty?

Did you really intend to use his antlers as forks?

He laughed to himself, letting his hand drop back to his side. This was ridiculous! If you meant even half the strange threats you threw at him....then...

Well. He was in danger.

[monster-fluffery]

Body Exploration with Merfolk(18+)

We’re so similar, yet so different. There’s so much to explore.

GN! Merperson x GN! Reader

NSFW WARNING!! MINORS DNI!!

(Sensual touching and sexual situations! Praise/Worship)

Some Backstory..

The first time you saw your partner, you were almost certain they would swallow you whole. They had dark eyes, sharp claws, and even sharper teeth. Their find were strong and they were muscular from swimming against the tides in the ocean. You, as a human, knew merfolk as dangerous and ruthless creatures who would rip sailors off their ships and drown them out of malice. Though, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration as you saw the monster. This monster was strangely beautiful to you.

The two of you were fascinated by one another.. and fascination became infatuation.

The Now

Yourself and your partner were tucked away safely in a secluded cave. You were propped up on a boulder that had been wedged into the ground against the tide. Your partner waded in front of you in the icy ocean waters. You couldn’t help but notice the way they eyed your legs, aimlessly tracing their fingers up and down the soft skin of your limb.

���You’re so soft,” they whispered.

Your hand reached out, fingers grazing one of the fins on the side of their head. Immediately it flared outward, appearing bigger as if to show off the color. This reaction confused and amused you. It almost reminded you of a peacock trying to show off for its mate. A smile graced your lips as you raised an eyebrow at the sea creature in front of you.

“And you’re.. responsive,” you couldn’t help but tease them.

Their fins retracted, now appearing smaller rather than bigger. Hey folded together and drooped downward. This expressed their embarrassment as you pointed out just how much they responded to your touch. They knew very well how much they loved you, how much their body loved you. It was impossible to hide their feelings when their own fins and heart would betray them.

“Fins are sensitive, dearest.” They responded.

“In what way?”

They were quiet after you asked that. You swore the spines on their back even drooped down from their usual strong position. They sank down into the water, which now covered them up to their chin. It was obvious that they were nervous to tell you what that sensation meant to someone of their kind… though that was enough of a hint to you. You knew their body language very well.

“Oh.. it felt really good, didn’t it?”

“It’s impossible to hide things from you.”

“Consider it a good thing… Come here.”

After a small moment of hesitation, they rose up from the water. Droplets slid down their paled grayish flesh as they revealed themselves to you. Your hands reached out, fingertips grazing the edges of their gills. The rising and falling of their breathing stopped, as if your touch startled them. But, they reached out themselves. Their hands found your hips, enveloping them in their palms. Their thumbs brushed against the dips of your hips, causing a warm puff of air to leave your lips.

Both of you knew where this was going. That was more than exhilarating.

You shifted closer to the water, submerging your legs up to your knees as your arms wrapped around your partner’s neck. Their grip on your hips became tighter, pulling you closer against themselves. Though, their hands wandered up your sides, over your ribs, and up your chest. They felt every dip and curve as if wanting to memorize every single detail of your body. They relished in your breathy gasps and sighs. You were eager, your scent grew heavy with arousal. The more their hands explored, the warmer your skin became.

This didn’t stop your exploration, however. If anything, this only fueled your desire to learn what made your partner tick. Your hands ran down the length of their sides, moving from the gills on their neck to the ones on their ribs. Your fingers traced the indentations, feeling the breaths pull in then breathe out. A chill ran up your spine as their back arched into your touch. Their tightening grip told you all you needed to know. It was a silent plea.

Don’t stop. It begged.

You wouldn’t stop. Neither of you would stop. Before you knew it, you were waist down in the water. Your legs had wrapped around the sea creature’s waist. Their scales pressed against you as they used the boulder to press your back against. Their head dipped down, lips meeting your neck. They inhaled deeply, taking in your scent. They could smell just how excited you were to be in this predicament. It excited them more than they thought they could ever be. Kisses reigned down on your neck, particularly your pulse point. I hey could feel your heart raising against your skin. It amazed them how quick your heart could beat.

Your head tilted back, your hands running along their back now. Up and down. The line up and down their spine was covered in sharp talons. Spines that were sharp and dangerous, a natural defense, your hands only grazed them gently. You could feel how sharp they were from only a moment’s touch. A hiss escaped their throat and their hand suddenly gripped your wrists.

“You’ll cut yourself.. Your kind is fragile, my heart.”

A whine bubbled up in your throat, but you refused to release it. Their hands continued to move, now sliding down your wrist and along the inside of your arm. Your partner seemed fascinated by the curve of your arms and how goosebumps rose on your soft skin. Their clawed finger tips trailed up and down, traveling along the skin that made you shiver. Then, they pulled your wrist to their lips, kisses descending down your arm. This caused your breath to hitch and your cheeks to flare. Such a simple touch sent your heart racing. You swore you could pass out at any moment.

Once their head made it to the shoulder, their chin tucked into the crevice between said shoulder and your neck. Their hand revealed the length of your arm until their massive hand swallowed yours in their palm. Their fingers squeezed the indents between each digit, appreciating the lack of webbing that they never understood about your anatomy. They were amazed by you; just like you were amazed by them.

“I always thought human’s fragile bodies were weak… yet I can’t help but find yours beautiful.” They spoke.

They moved forwards, pressing their weight down against you. You back pressed harder into the rock behind you, causing you to gasp slightly. You knew what they wanted. Their lips met your heart beat, traveling down your chest. They left a trail of kisses all the way down to your belly, where they kissed your navel as their fingers counted your ribs, tracing over each one in a tantalizing slow way. They worshipped your body were ease and care. Every kiss and caress solidified their love for you.

“Most of you feels familiar… but, here is where we differ,”

Their lips hovered over the spot between your thighs, causing heat to spread all throughout your body, yet it pooled in your belly. Your body was shaking, fingers digging into the boulder behind you. Their tongue slid out from their mouth, leaving a slow and experimental lick to those ‘oh so different’ parts of you. Ecstasy clouded your mind and all you could think of is how you wanted more of them. You wanted, no, needed them touch to you. You were theirs and they were yours.

“Please..”

“I know, my heart. This is something we must explore.. hang tight for me, won’t you?”

There was a brief moment of pause, tension rising as your patience wore thin.

“It’s only just begun..”

[sundew199]

From a Distance

a/n: so this was a little hard to write ngl, kinda why it took me this long to get it posted but oh well. Again everything is consensual, though not explicitly stated

tags: zoro x f!reader, voyeurism k!ink, oblivious reader, voyeur!sanji, accidental voyeur!Law, fingering, oral f!recieving, cowgirl position, switching POVs

kinktober day six: voyeurism for anon

!!minors dni!!

Maybe Zoro was getting in his own head to think that he was being watched, the feeling of someone else's eyes but yours burning into his back as he dragged his lips down your torso. He'd been waiting all day for everyone to turn in for the night, thinking about fucking you nice and slow for a change as they were still on their way to Dressrosa at the moment. Rarely did he have an opportunity like this, and he probably shouldn't have settled for the bathhouse to enjoy said moment, but he didn't have enough energy to carry you to the room.

Swearing he double checked before pulling you into his lap, he chose to ignore it for the sake of your sweet little moans he was pulling from you. Your breath turned labored when the tip of his nose bumped your erect nipple, twitching from the barely there touch and sighing. Catching the reaction, Zoro flicked his tongue lightly, your head tipping back and breath slightly hitching. You'd had a long day and wanted nothing more than for Zoro to just to whatever he wanted to you, which is why he was so adamant about not being interrupted. It was hard to ignore what he felt like was an extra set of eyes watching you and him, and even worse that he couldn't even gather an idea of where they would be looking in.

"You seem distracted?" Mewling softly to him, running your fingers through his damp green hair, forcing him to turn his attention away from your tits.

"M'fine." Giving you a half smile, pressing another kiss to your sternum, flattening his tongue on the skin and inhaling. Your skin always smelled so sweet, even mores after the body wash you used. Zoro wasn't a fan of heavily scented things, threw him off in any situation, but you were the exception, always the exception.

Dragging you closer onto his lap, water sloshing quietly around your bodies, Zoro hummed when pressing his nose between your breasts, faintly scratching his nails down your back, taking the water droplets with him.

A small shuffle snapped his attention to where the sound was coming from, his single eye frantically searching for the cause of the sound but coming up with nothing. This was ridiculous, he didn't need to be this hyperaware of his surrounding like this, not when it was late and everyone was in for the night.

Keeping a steady hold on your hips, Zoro moved to the other side of the bath, sitting you on the edge out of the water, back facing the sliding door to the secluded area. Caging you in with his arms, he cupped on of your breasts in his hand, thumbing over the nipple and letting his mouth enclose of the other. You moaned a bit louder this time, letting your head fall back and legs bend at the knee on the edge, giving him a view of your glistening folds. His free hand swiped over the flesh between your legs, gathering what was already leaking and pressing it into your clit. Double stimulation had you feeling weightless and free, like your soul was leaving your body the way Zoro teasingly touched you so lightly and firmly at the same time.

Sanji hissed as quietly as he could, witnessing the brute that somehow got you to fall for him, touching you so adamantly, like he were now putting on a show. He wasn't trying to be a peeping tom like he currently was, merely an accident passing by the one window in the bathhouse that looked directly into the space you and Zoro occupied. You were so pretty, from your body to the noises you made, Sanji felt frozen where he stood, palming himself in his trousers and resisting the urge to give himself relief.

He worried with Zoro's acute hearing and sense of his surroundings that he would discover him watching and give him what he deserved. Truthfully Sanji didn't know what would happen if he was spotted, but he didn't want to find out, not needing to bruise his ego or face from his rival. Ironic that their rivalry played into everything between the two, strength, loyalty to their captain and now women. When you joined the crew, Sanji was smitten, more than he thinks he was when Nami and Robin joined. he attempted his advances without overstepping boundaries, but you were drawn to Zoro. As much as that hurt and annoyed him at first, Sanji wasn't a home wrecker and respected your choice. So why was he watching you get teased and fingered in the bath out of view?

Zoro glided the two fingers in and out of you with practiced ease, trying not to glance over at the where he saw the tuff of blonde for a split second, focusing on the slow drawn out moans you were releasing as the thick digits stretched you open. Telling himself at first that he was seeing things, exhaustion playing cruel tricks on him, but still not omitting the chance of that cook watching what he can't have.

"You never tease this much? What's gotten into you?" Your breathless question came, leaning back on your palms and raising your hips to his fingers working themselves inside of you.

"Just trying to appreciate you, but we can speed things up if you'd like?" Humorously challenging you with a knowing smirk, curling the two fingers deep inside you, watching your face contort.

"N-no, this is fine," Sounding like all the air had been sucked from your lungs as you spoke, making a shiver ascend up Zoro's spine, groaning softly as your arousal leaked down to his wrist like little raindrops.

Zoro chuckled, pulling you by the hip to get you to lean back a little more and make it easier to run his tongue over your aching flesh, kissing your swollen clit deftly and fluttering his lashes at the contact. Your dainty hand gently buried into his still damp hair, pulling at the roots just barely and serving as motivation to let his tongue now flatten over the bud.

His hums and groans vibrated your already sensitive flesh, kicking the volume of your moans up a decibel just enough for anyone watching or listening to understand what was taking place in the bathhouse.

Law sighed at yet another pitchy moan coming from the other side of the thin wall of the bathhouse, slipping further into the water and adding more regrets to forming an alliance with the straw hats. If he didn't need them to reach his goal, he wouldn't be here, listening to the moans and sighs of one of the crew members getting pleased by another. What an annoyance. Did none of the straw hats possess any decency?

Perhaps that was too much to ask for, unfortunate for him who was simple trying to wind down and ease the ache in his muscle before heading to bed. He didn't want to admit that the soft muffled noises you were making were doing something to him, stirring the heat in his gut and making him grit his teeth in annoyance in himself. You were pretty, treated him with kindness even after the events of Punk Hazard, so he didn't see an issue in his mild attraction to you. But he was better than getting off to Roronoa Zoro doing whatever it was to you to draw out those pretty noises.

Fuck it. No one would know but him.

The once soft grip you had on his hair turned intense, tightening at the roots and sending little licks of pain through his scalp as he remained buried in your cunt, working you towards another orgasm. Zoro was being greedy yes, but he also couldn't help himself for a number of reasons. One, because he saw that blonde hair flash in the small window again and instead of stopping and giving the two of you some privacy, he decided to put on a little show for the cook. You wouldn't know, so no harm done.

"Zoro - will you please just fuck me now?"

Ah right, he had to keep his focus on you no matter the little game he was playing with the curly browed perv. He frowned pulling away after lapping up the slick and arousal painting your thighs and pussy, irritated with himself for getting distracted. Zoro held your chin in a careful hand, slotting your lips together for a lengthy slow almost messy kiss, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip and pulling on it with his teeth.

Sanji rested his head on the wall, thumbing over the leaking slit of his cock, trying not to let the guilt of doing something so pathetic distract him from the expressions and sounds coming from you. He'll give moss head credit where it's due, seeing him work you into another orgasm right after the first was a talent, Sanji just partially wished it were him bringing you to that point.

He watched as Zoro sat on the edge of the bath, one leg still in the water and the other hanging off the side, his hands guiding you to sink down on his cock, ironically the perfect view for him. Was it intentional? Couldn't be, Zoro would never let him of all people catch a peek at the way he fucked you or how you rode his cock, it had to just be his luck at the moment.

Once your head fell onto his shoulder and Zoro's hands spread your ass cheeks as he guided you up and down at a moderate pace did Sanji feel the arousal surge in his veins, somehow stiffening his own cock more. Working his fist at the same pace as your hips, offered mild relief to the painful erection, forgetting that this was 'wrong' and that he should've kept walking down the hall. But fuck did you look good, the way you cunt stretched and swallow a cock was mesmerizing, ironically helping Sanji form his own little daydream of that being him and not the green-haired brute. He can work out his internal guilt and shame after, adamant about enjoying the display and not getting caught.

"Fuck you're so tight, riding me so well baby." Zoro muttered into your ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth and landing a searing smack to your ass, relishing in the squeaky moan. You were jelly on top of him, letting out airy moans and whimpers that sounded so drained of energy but yet so satisfied.

The sounds you were making as your hips moved up and down were enough to drive him insane and the cook, if he could hear them that is. Realizing that Sanji watching from a distance didn't bother him, but instead fueled his ego allowed him to remind the cook what he was missing and what he wouldn't have. Cruel? Possibly, but why would that matter to Zoro? You were his and even if everyone on this ship knew that, reminders never hurt anybody.

Law dug his teeth into his knuckles to the point he swore skin started to break, pumping his shaft under the water to minimize the alerting of his presence. He knew for a fact that Zoro didn't know he was in here, saving himself time by 'shambling' himself into the bathhouse and by luck, not the same one the two of you were in. He hadn't expected himself to...get to this point, but it was a little late for that.

Blame it on the crew of his mostly consisting of males to make him this desperate from accidentally listening on two peoples "time spent together" to have him getting off to merely hearing it. As long as he reminded himself that no one would know but him, he could drown in the saccharine moans and whimpers coming from you.

You'd given up on moving up and down yourself at this point, letting Zoro do it all himself as he thrusted up simultaneously, the very tip of him prodding at your cervix. You were in such bliss, equivalent to riding on cloud 9 to notice anything but the cock slamming into you repeatedly. Zoro always fucked you good, considering it a skill in your mind from the way he always left your legs shaking and numb.

"You gonna cum? Gonna cum from this?" Hearing him ask but not realizing it wasn't directed at you, nodding over his shoulder and sinking your nails into his scalp.

"yes, feels so good." Giving him a reply, unaware of your own obliviousness of the situation.

"Mm that's right, who's cock are you going to cum on?" The snarl and arrogance in his tone flying over your head, moaning with euphoria, tightening your walls and hearing the man below you grunt, sending another sharp slap to your ass cheek.

"Yours."

"C'mon tell'em who, who's cock are you going to cum on baby?"

"Yours z-zoro, yours."

"That's right." Laughing victoriously, thrusting up harshly once and moving to just slamming your hips up and down, skin meeting skin and slapping against each other, echoing off the walls.

Sandi's fist tightened around the head of his cock, panting with each pump he gave himself hearing your moans and ignoring the way you said Zoro's name and imagining it was his name instead spilling from your lips. It might've dawned on him that Zoro knew he was watching, but he didn't care, he was so close and nothing was going to ruin this.

Law lurched forward int he tub, letting out a puff of air as he rapidly pumped his cock under the water, his balls tightening as an indication he was close. So far gone from the slapping of skin and the way you unabashedly moaned and listened to the fellow swordsman's commands. A part of him wanted that to be him in Zoro's place, the other part not caring and just trying to bring himself to an orgasm so he could forget he ever stooped this low for relief. Argh, whatever! None of that mattered, he wasn't part of the crew so this would be a blip in his memory later from now.

Only aware of Sanji's presence and not the doctor they were transporting to Dressrosa, Zoro continued to find way to get you to moan louder and louder so the cook could hear, not knowing their guest was also getting off to they you were taking his cock and wishing it were them.

This was oddly satisfying for Zoro, all parts of it if he were to ever admit, getting to show you off and further reestablish boundaries and rank with the cook. What a sweet opportunity this was.

"Zoro, I'm going to cum I-"

"Me too baby, gonna fill this pretty pussy up, make sure my cum's leaking out and all down your legs." Sweetly kissing your cheek while eyeing the window where he knew Sanji was out of view, smiling against your skin and digging his fingers into your ass cheek, creating divets.

With every thrust, your walls tightened, fluttered around his shaft and begged for him to fill you. Zoro panted into your ear, growling under his breath and holding you down the moment he began to cum, painting your inner walls with his milky seed. Unexpectantly cumming much more than he anticipated, letting out a breathy laugh when he realized it leaked down his cock still buried inside of you.

Without either of them knowing, Law and Sanji reached their respective orgasm at the same time, stifling their pathetic pitiful moan's by biting their hands or knuckles, their minds not wasting a second for the post-orgasmic guilt and shame to wash over them. Though Law couldn't see like Sanji could, he could hear the low deep laugh of Zoro along with your feet planting flat on the ground, the swordsman playfully smacking your ass and going in for a kiss.

It was insane how Sanji almost stiffened up agains from the cum leaking down your legs from your pussy, how Zoro scooped some back inside you with possessiveness. Didn't matter in the end, at least now Sanji knew what it might be like to fuck you, if that were to ever happen, he wasn't going to dwell on that too hard.

Grabbing a towel from the rack and cleaning himself off, Law grumbled under his breath, making sure it was secure around his waist before 'shambling' himself out of here, not wanting to think or be near what just happened any longer, mildly disgusted with himself.

Zoro held the sides of your face once the towel was wrapped around your chest, making a little dress and kissing you sweetly. You were smiling into the kiss and so was he, but for entirely different reasons. And unless someone were to torture this information out of him, you'd never know, it'd be the three of theirs little secret.

[anantaru]

A SILKY AURA WITH LAVENDER DREAMS ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡ !

⋆⑅˚₊ how they‘re pleasing you on valentines day ♡ ‧₊˚✧ — including scaramouche, alhaitham, heizou, yelan x fem! reader !! warnings — ‧₊˚✧ [ex]plicit, very passionate, kissing, a little rough, worshipping you ♡ ˚ ⋅ event mlist.

⋆⑅˚₊ — SCARAMOUCHE

scaramouche quizzes your every reaction, repeating the coarse laps of his warm tongue before he's certain it has an effect on you— how you're holding your breath in, how your toes are twisting on each fresh flutter and how about the way you were longingly ramming your pretty cunt into his mouth?

but you deserve it, he says, because this day was all about you.

unquestionably you had told scaramouche that valentines day was about your relationship— as in you and him, but he did not see it as such, decidedly did he say over and over, that it's about you and he needed, no, he had to spoil you even more than any other day before.

and now there he was, for hours, blazingly pleasuring your warm core and having you take it all, he has done this many many times before but tonight was unmistakable different.

scaramouche was gluttonous— his tongue was hungering for yet another hypnotic taste of your oozy arousal.

"i'm— so so close." you whine at him, your hands finding mercy in his littered hair as he breathlessly laughed into your sopping wet cunt, amusingly kissing your clit and leaning to the side to rest his head on your thighs, looking at you closely now.

"try not to stutter." he prompts you with a smirk, his eyes burrowed into something in imitation to greed, it came to be carnal on your skin and more notably when he kissed your clit again, again and again, "all mine, right?" scaramouche slurred lowly and prized how your thighs were trembling underneath the contour of his frame.

"yes— all yours." scaramouche carried on to actively guzzle on your blazing clit while you spoke, well, tried.

he carefully sealed his lips around the burning flesh and delicately tugging on it whenever he let go of the skin with a wet pop, curving your voice even more hopeless and tremulous for him which was the reason why he did it in the first place, kuni just had to hear you.

⋆⑅˚₊ — ALHAITHAM

at the close of alhaitham's first valentines day together with you, in less then no time you were wrapped up within the confines of your easeful bed— a recurrent verse of nastily making out with each other, kicking off your shoes and unhesitatingly jerking off each others clothes, one by one, until being left bare.

everything about alhaitham was just big— too big, whether or not it were his large hands tangibly mauling your pulpy breasts, his big, broad chest without a single care in the world soaring over your sweet frame or his vast length twitching on top of your glinting folds, feeling heavy.

"you will tell me if it hurts." he gently prods his tip at your entrance and watches how your hole barely slits at the cause, "yeah.." you mewl at him— but sappily, your body urgently retorting as your legs reflexively parted at the hurting push.

it stung a little, but that's okay, alhaitham repeatedly waited for you to get contented enough. He found it adorable when your tightly pressed together brows would slowly draw themselves back into a much more relaxed manner the moment you had grown accustomed to his length or when your, in his eyes, so so cutely pursed lips would part at the heavy penetration because then you're moaning out his name in a sickly sweet charm and it's driving him absolutely insane.

but you too, were instantly overwhelmed with his hard erection drumming within the walls of your sensitivity— the bigger vein of his length you adored to kiss whenever you went down on him was battering your racing splotches and gave you significant trouble to breathe in a casual way.

"please— please move." it's okay now, alhaitham realizes and places one of your legs over his shoulder, still proceeding with caution but encasing your hips with one hand to drag you back and forth steadily, "this feels good." his hand runs over your stomach and strokes the flesh, "this feels very very pleasant."

you were quick to shush him the moment you dragged him to your needful lips, evidently you were flustered by what he had voiced to you, always, how he's saying what he thinks and couldn't keep himself silent, he just had to tell you—sometimes being too blunt about it too, but in doing so alhaitham had become the sweetest.

⋆⑅˚₊ — HEIZOU

on valentines day, heizou and you leisurely enjoyed an undisturbed and mellow warm bath together— with the water having an assemblage of red rose petals idly floating on the surface.

you freely fit him in between your thighs, your breasts being firmly mashed against his chest as heizou's hand ploddingly framed your body from underneath, he could get lost on how soft you felt.

in spite of the current appearance at hand, heizou did not aim to keep this going in the bathtub, but he simply could not resist you for the life of him. As it happened he had originally planned to fuck you later on while being comfortably tugged in bed but beyond question, this was far preferable.

"does that feel good?" he asks yet recognizably knows the answer, he effortlessly deciphered it by how strong your pretty cunt was searching for friction on him, the water too had turned the situation in your favor by how soaked and doused you both appeared.

you listlessly swathed your arms around his damp neck to pull him towards you, "yes, very." to give him a hint, you airily kept your hips in a different position so his flushed tip would nudge against your entrance with it almost slipping in on itself by how easy the water was making it for you.

heizou's arms encase your waist to help you out as you slowly rolled yourself into his tip, he was aware on what you wanted, how could he not?

meekly taking inch by inch, you mewled out his name and hid in his neck, tenderly coasting your hand into his soaked hair strands.

"i love love love you." you mewl and archons, the reactions you voiced were too adorable for him, "i love love love you too." with an airy laugh from heizou, you felt his erect member recurrently rush in and out of your pussy, the dripping noises of skin on skin were only heightened by the wetness surrounding you.

⋆⑅˚₊ — YELAN

yelan herself wasn't a giant fan of going out in public on valentines day, not when the busy streets of liyue had been outrageously crowded with couples throughout the city.

alternatively, she found herself on top of your gentle body— archons, how fucking much she loved you, all of you, so dearly she just must spoil you for eternity.

one of your legs was lounging on her shoulder as she invariably bumped her tickling cunt over your glistering folds— burying deep shock waves of unmixed intoxication into your sweat covered skin.

but with all that, yelan wasn't fast with her flavorful torture on you— instead it was quite the opposite, because she must have you witness it all, each and every emotion of bliss had to be imposed on you.

"look at me." she sternly commands before taking your chin in between her thumb and index finger, "i always— ah, do!" you mewl when she amusingly wiggled her folds over your wetness, under the silhouette of your moans, you began to take one of her breasts in your warm palm to catch her off guard.

her nipples were erect and so pretty, she was pretty, your sweet darling— better yet, she had been neglecting of you lately and had promised to inflict pleasure on you beyond any compare in this world.

henceforward, yelan serenely parted her lips before leaving a big bulb of spit fall on your thudding pussy, you arched your back into her and whined when she launched to sloppily slather it all over your core with her soiled folds, precisely nudging your writhing clit ever so often.

everything felt so filthy and you realize just how dearly you wanted to cum on her, but then pay her back for this, make her, for once, sense pleasure from you spoiling her— and you will, later, when you're passionately mauling your head in between her thighs until she violently releases all over your lips.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[bennysblabbering]

Turning up the Heat

Kinktober: "Temperature Play" || Portgas D. Ace x reader

contents: pirate!reader, massages, clit play, fingering

words: 1.1k

g/n afab reader

↓ Ficlet below the cut ↓

You hum pleasantly as Ace’s hands knead at your back, massaging the sore muscles and adding a subtle heat to his hands to help release tension. You’re laying on his bed on your stomach, your hands under your head and your legs crossed as he hovers over you, pressing onto the tender skin with warm palms. As excitingly freeing as being a pirate was, engaging in near daily battles that left your body aching was certainly not one of your favorite aspects. Tired of repeatedly taking from Marco’s excessive painkiller stock, you eventually asked your slightly less intimidating crewmate to use his powers for good and help you out. 

“I should’ve asked for this a long time ago. This feels great,” you mumble, the warmth from his hands slowly easing the soreness away. He chuckles in response, continuing his movements, amused by your reaction to him performing what he considered such a simple and easy task.

“It’s nothin’. This is certainly better than being asked to light a cigarette or a candle.” 

You giggle in response, imagining him hesitantly complying with a task seemingly below him. Having fire literally at one’s fingertips would be immensely useful for a number of reasons, but it would certainly also come with other people seeing you as nothing more than the heat you produce, asking for your assistance with mundane tasks. But what kinds of things could you use such power for when it comes to recreation?

Your cheeks match the heat of your back, flushing pink as you ask him a new question out of curiosity.

“Ace?”

“Yeah?”

A nervous chuckle escapes your throat. “Have you—and it’s fine if you don’t want to answer this—ever used your powers for sexual purposes?”

He laughs in response, seemingly unphased by the question as he continues his motions on your back. “Nah. No one’s ever asked.”

You respond with a brief hum and a raise of the eyebrows. “That surprises me. I feel like if I were in that situation, I’d immediately want to take advantage of that. I think it’d feel really good.”

“Well, I guess I haven’t been with adventurous enough people then,” he says with a huff and a smile.

Immediately following his response, his hands continued and yet you both fell silent. The same thought popped into both of your minds, but neither of you wanted to say it out loud. 

You clear your throat, trying to say the words before you could chicken out.

“I mean…if you want…you could-I could-we could…um…”

“Try it,” you both say in sync.

Your faces both blush as you turn to look at him, lip tucked between your teeth nervously, a shaky but suggestive grin creeping onto his face as you make eye contact. You turn around and slowly sit up, your gazes meeting in a heavy-lidded look of mutual desire. He cups your cheek with his hand, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips; for a man so rough around the edges, his lips had a pleasant softness to them. 

Your hands cautiously reach upward to feel at his body. You’d fantasized for a long time about what his freckled muscles felt like, constantly exposed for your eyes to wander over. His hands respond just as curiously by helping to remove your shirt, and his lips make his way to your neck and collarbone, peppering small but caring kisses on the skin. 

His voice lowers into a quiet and husky tone, mumbling against your skin. “‘M not sure how far you’d wanna go, but I assume you want me to touch you…” He reaches down and slips his hand underneath the waistband of your pants, palming over your clothed cunt. “...here?”

Your breath hitches as you nod with a gulp, growing more needy with each moment your bodies were pressed so close together. Your voice comes out breathy with an audible need. “Y-yeah.”

He chuckles as he reaches into your underwear, pressing a single finger to your clit as he continues to kiss your exposed flesh. You let out a small whine, subtly grinding back into his touch. Amused by your immediate eagerness, he subtly heats the single fingertip, continuing his movements of rubbing small circles onto the bud. A shaky moan escapes your lips; already the small change in temperature was enough to make you yearn for more. 

You reach down to pull the rest of your clothes off, spreading your thighs a bit wider to give his wandering fingers easier access. His middle and ring finger slide their way up and down your slick folds, lubricating them before he slowly inserts them into your entrance, looking up at you with a lustful smugness in his eyes. You lean your head back into the pillows as you gasp, reveling in the sensation of his long fingers inside you. 

Almost immediately he turns up the heat in his fingers, sliding them all the way into the knuckle as the temperature increases. A choked whimper escapes you, your fingers digging into his back, moaning at the intense new feeling as the hot digits steadily start to pump in and out of you. He parts his lips from your skin, sitting up and hovering over you as his heated hands continue to work your pussy.

“How’s that feel? Feel as good as you thought it would?”

You nod, your eyes glazed over and your mouth hung open as you continue to moan quietly. “Feels so damn good, Ace. Even better than I thought.” 

“Glad to hear it,” he says as he uses his other hand to work your clit once again, the thermal digit sensually kneading the bud, the heat intensifying the pleasure. Feeling both the hot fingers thrusting into you and caressing your clit, your mind goes numb from the incredible new sensation. You could get addicted to this- his warm hands skillfully playing with your cunt, knowing exactly what to work and how to work it, the heat enhancing the entire experience. 

You can feel a familiar sensation growing in your core and your hold on him tightens, screwing your eyes shut with your jaw hanging slack as you let your orgasm take hold of your body.

“Fuck, Ace! Don’t fucking stop, holy shit. Fuck, I’m cumming!”

Your mind goes hazy as the only subject taking over your thoughts is the heated stimulation on the most sensitive and intimate part of your body. You’d never quite felt anything like this before, and you loved every single moment of it. 

You slowly come down from your high and your tight grip on him loosens, a relieved exhale escaping your lips as your hips come back down onto the bed. He withdraws the warm digits, making you gasp as the lack of them almost felt cold. A small whine leaves you, the carnal need for heat continuing to ravage through you.

“Can we do that again?”

[markrosewater]

Hey, Mark, I'm not to make another UB-related request. This isn't coming from an anti-UB place, and it's just one Goose's opinion, but I'm sure there are others who feel this way.

Can we get rid of flavor words, please? I haven't seen a single upside to them presented, just downsides:

For decades, one of MtG's biggest strengths was capturing the ludonarrative. Having to spell it out makes it seem like you all have lost confidence in your ability to make card design that makes sense with the captured flavor.

If a design is intended to be funny (the Street Fighter cards come to mind), it feels like you're pointing at the "joke" and saying "See? Please laugh." As a person who has a comedy background, I'm sure you understand why killing the frog is bad.

Death of the epithet: The most minor of the criticisms, but I really think "Ian Chester, Science Teacher" reads better than "Ian Chester" and then calling his ability "science teacher." (I may be mixing up the WHO teachers, but this applies to both, luckily.) Epithets also make it easier to depict multiple "moments" of a character without giving a card up as the "definitive" version of that character.

It feels like you don't trust players to get why the card text is what it is. Telling your audience you don't expect them to be smart (or rather, literate) enough to "get" it doesn't really help. I've seen people say they add flavor to the cards, but the flavor isn't diminished by removing the flavor words (flavor is when things are fleshed out and living, not when things are spelled out). If it's for fans of the IP, then they already get it (Oh, the activated ability that grants flying is referencing this character's rocket propulsion). Non-fans of the IP aren't benefited either, as they will sus out said character has rocket propulsion or be left completely in the dark (see Cult of Skaro: These words do nothing to tell me about the ability. If you were to leave them out, I'd still be able to sus out that each ability corresponds to one of the four Daleks depicted).

Lastly, they make cards harder to read. When trying to grok a card, there should be as few words as possible I'm supposed to ignore.

I understand some people will go "I recognize the thing" and a bulb in their brain will light up, but something being easy like this doesn't mean it's better or that we actually like it more.

I guess there's the potential upside that you could slot in numerals to power up my Baron von Count deck, but I don't see any real tangible upside to them. Obviously I'm missing something. Can you say what it is?

(Also, even if you don't answer it,thank you for taking the time to answer this book of an ask. These are feelings I've been sitting on since AFR and keeping an open mind on in case I changed how I felt from my initial reaction.)

Flavor words can do some things that we can't replicate elsewhere. I agree they can be overused, and are not always used optimally, but I don't think we want to throw out the baby with the bathwater.

[dipperscavern]

breathless and whiny robb u say?? 🫣🫣🧐🧐 can I then add that the first time he was dommed by r he absolutely loses his SHIT bc omg omg dying dead HUH!? especially if he’s so used to being the dom in the relationship the moment his girl switches it up on him he short circuits

BREATHLESS AND WHINY ROBB I SAID. I APOLOGIZE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY LEWD (thank you sm for this ily)

it’s not uncommon for you and robb to have to spend time apart. as children at winterfell, robb was often busy being prepared to be lord of it and all its people. back when the realm wasn’t in shambles, robb would study on politics, and sit in with his father on his duties. you didn’t mind, you knew you couldn’t have him all to yourself. you preferred to spend your time checking in on the other starklings, practicing your skills, and you were silently grateful to have a bit more leisurely time than he did.

but during war it was so, so much worse.

as robb’s lady, you went everywhere with him. but you usually didn’t participate in battles, and sometimes, things were so dangerous robb didn’t even feel safe taking you with him. you can be away from each other for weeks at a time, and you spend it praying he’ll return to you. it’s common for men at war to have other women warm their beds, but robb’s bed stays cold, no matter how long you’re apart. he would never betray you like that.

spending so much time apart sometimes makes him desperate. not just to be reunited, but to feel you. to be sheathed deep inside you, your hands pulling him closer & his roaming your body — to feel your lips on his again. and when he finally makes his way back to you, he can barely contain himself.

his hips roll, and he savors the feeling. his hand is intertwined with yours, and his other caresses the soft flesh of your hip. it’s been so long, and he never wishes to leave your warmth. his head drops to your shoulder as he slides himself fully in, and his brain malfunctions. you’re tight, wet, and warm — and it has his brows pinching, mouth falling open to let out a breathless whine. he can’t remember the last time he’s ever made a noise like that (never), but he can’t find it in himself to care. your nails are lightly scratching at his back, and pain mixes with pleasure in a way that makes him grit his teeth.

you love when he’s like this. breathless and losing control, losing himself in the pleasure you’re giving him. he’s taking, taking, taking — and so giving at the same time.

afterwards, when you both lay spent after sharing each others bodies, the moment replays in your mind. you want to make him sound like that again. again and again and again. that’s when an idea forms in your mind.

robb had agreed to trying out your idea, so here you both are. your thighs spread to accommodate his length, legs over his waist as you straddle him. it’s a different angle, a different feeling, and he’s patient in giving you time to adjust. you give an experimental roll of your hips, and his grip on them tightens. he’s not trying to stop you, he just didn’t expect it to feel so good. you gauge his reaction, raising an eyebrow at the single movement having him sharply inhale.

feeling more confident, you begin to move. you take it slower, trying to find movements that feel good for the both of you. robb is not complaining at your experimenting, head lolling back at every movement. eventually, you bring yourself up, and then down again. it has your eyes fluttering shut & robb gritting his teeth, and you silently relish in your triumph. you begin to move, setting a pace that has his grip on your hips tightening & you clenching around him.

robb doesn’t know if he can handle it. the view of you moving up and down on his cock, the way your tits move with your ministrations — the way you feel so good. and the pretty noises you’re making have his brain turning to mush, knocking the air out of his lungs. what have you done to him?

“Feel alright, Robb?”

your voice brings him back to reality (only for a second), and he nods his head. you’ve almost rendered his ability to speak.

“Don’t- mm! Don’t stop.”

you smile, enjoying the view. robb’s brows pinched (more than usual), mouth falling slack as breathless whines & moans spill from his lips. one of your hands comes to rest over where his own is on your hips in an attempt to ground him, as he’s done for you so many times. it works as well as it can with you continuing your pace, having him sharply inhaling as a groan rises from his throat. he’s distant, completely lost in the throes of pleasure. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

it doesn’t take long before you feel the familiar warmth begin to pool in your abdomen, the angle hitting you just right. when robb brings his thumb to rub circles on your clit, it has the tight cord in your belly snapping, waves of pleasure crawling up your spine as you cum. you continue your movements, only slowing down to ride out the aftershocks. robb isn’t far behind, and when you involuntarily clench down on him, he spills into you with a groan of your name.

you look at robb, catching your breath, and smile once more. you think you’ll have to see him like this more often.

[sunshine-jesse]

In defense of Andrew Graves: Facing Yourself​

Alt title: Andrew Graves: The Will to Plow Her

I think my analysis of Andrew is one of the best essays I've written so far. But since then, I think I've expanded my understanding of his character in a way that urges me to add on to my prior essay. What I intend on doing is further fleshing out my reading of Burial, and going deeper in detail on why I think Decay ends up panning out the way it does. This essay will end up sharing a lot of text with my prior one, but will add enough scattered throughout that I think it merits a complete reread instead of just scrolling down and seeing what's new.

I've focused a lot on Ashley in my past writings. She's my favorite character in the story (and depending on how episode 3 pans out, maybe ever) and I'm pretty mortified by how some parts of the fandom have reacted towards her, so I pretty much made it my life's mission to push back against that. From highlighting the ways Andrew mistreats her, to coming up with justifications for her behavior that aren't just being a manipulative bitch, I really wanted to prove that a more favorable picture of her could be painted than most were willing to.

But in doing so, I've left Andrew in the dust.

In highlighting his flaws and the ways he mistreats Ashley, I think I've implied a level of intentionality to his actions that I don't believe he has. When I say that Ashley did nothing wrong, it's in direct response to the idea that she holds the most responsibility and agency in how their dynamic plays out, when in reality, I believe she has very little. Most of her actions in-story are in reaction to a variety of stimuli that come directly from Andrew, that he has control over and are aware of how Ashley feels about. His refusal to use clear and direct language to deny her most toxic tendencies causes her more and more stress as time goes on, and instead of giving her clear answers he opts to be catty, passive-aggressive, or, at his worst, threatening. Never direct and never clear, except when establishing boundaries over his name after the choking scene. Andrew fails to help Ashley be better in some frankly depressing ways throughout the whole story, especially in their childhoods, so we never get to see where she'd fall short if given a better influence.

...

Kind of. More on that later!

In mentioning his thing about preferring to be called Andrew instead of Andy, I also implicitly mention one of the places where Ashley falls short in their dynamic and could stand to do better: recognition.

This scene says a lot. It's the most heartbreaking scene in the game, if you ask me, and probably the single most profound and well-written moment in the entire story. I could write a whole 2000 word essay on it alone, but I've already said most of what I have to say about it through what I've said in other essays, so I'll spare you all that. Instead, I'll use it to highlight something:

"I had fun."

Their dysfunction is fun to her. She's so used to abuse and alienation that even the most awful, stressful (as far as we know) route of the game is still fun to her. And that's not a sign of her being a secret evil sociopath or whatever; that's actually not abnormal behavior to develop for a lifelong victim of abuse. Those highs and lows, those strong emotional highs and lows are -addicting-. They're -fun.- Part of why abuse victims get into so many abusive relationships is because it's easy to pick up on those patterns of thought and take advantage of them, and the cycle of abuse is often furthered when a victim of abuse tries to draw out mutually abusive behaviors in someone with no interest in having that kind of dynamic.

This is where I'm willing to acknowledge Ashley's manipulative tendencies. Not just as a matter of controlling Andrew for its own sake, purely out of jealousy or possessiveness, but as a matter of trying to further the only dynamic she's ever known in her life. Better the devil you know, right?

That push and pull- that emotional rollercoaster- is all many of us know. And it's all Ashley knows. This dynamic is something she's so used to that she reacts incredibly harshly to any attempt to change it, because she doesn't know that things can be better. Because of this, she refuses to engage with who Andrew really is, and tells herself- and him- that she *hates* Andrew:

This scene is almost as heartbreaking as the above one in a lot of ways.

Andrew putting his foot down about the Andy/Andrew name dichotomy wasn't arbitrary and it wasn't just about his comfort. It was about Andrew giving a clear indication about what needs to happen for their relationship to improve. He's recognizing the cycle between them and wants to put a stop to it, because he's confident that things between them CAN get better and evolve into something healthier. Ashley, not understanding that their dynamic can get better, because their "fun" little push and pull of abuse is all she knows, rejects that. She rejects the unknown, and says- in Andrew's mind at least- that she'll never accept that new dynamic, nor will she accept who he really is.

Ouch. No wonder he looks so sad in that screenshot.

They have a conflict of understanding here, and I think it's fair to pin most of the responsibility on Ashley. Andrew was clear in what he wanted, and Ashley just... Didn't. She didn't see the importance of it ("...whatever that means in practice") and didn't really ask. This gap in communication, perfectly displayed in this scene, is likely what causes the Decay ending. He wants things to be better, and wants to treat Ashley better, and whether or not he understands the ways in which she communicates with him is in part what determines what he sees her as.

But there's a lot of evidence that he always wanted things to be better, that he always wanted to treat her better. But external factors have made it very, very difficult, and I think there are two key points in which he started to shed the importance of those external factors and seek that better relationship, both of which happening in the apartment: The killing of the warden and the 302 lady. In the first case, he was forced to do it to protect Ashley in a way he hadn't done before, or depending on how you look at it, since the death of Nina. But the intentionality was the key point here. After this point, he calls Ashley Leyley, which may or may not seem important at this point, but it's something I'll draw attention to later, so keep that in mind.

Next is the killing of the 302 lady, which is the much, much bigger point. We don't learn much about it until later on- as at first he just gives an excuse about the nail gun that doesn't line up with what we see on the map- but during the dream, it's revealed it was a calculated, intentional killing that he did to make sure there was no evidence left behind, and because Ashley (supposedly) would've wanted him to do it anyway. I say supposedly because Ashley herself doesn't seem to ever want Andrew to kill for her past Nina's death, because he only ever kills for her to defend one or both of them. If you want more evidence that violence for violence's sake isn't something she wants, look at this part in the final dream:

A knife isn't what opens the door, despite it being placed on the ground in that very map. While it seems obvious that the knife (violence) would be the key to solving the puzzle, it's put there explicitly to show you that it isn't. It's not what she wants; what she wants is a flower.

So, why is this important? Why am I centering Ashley- again- when this essay is supposed to be about Andrew?

It's because these two killings are when Andrew's self-delusion over who he really is starts to break down. It's still there, mind, as he still relies upon Ashley as an excuse to justify it, but, as well as what I've said before, the name ultimatum is an implicit confession that the normalcy he finds comfort in is starting to lose its grasp on him. There's a lot that's been said about Andy being something close to a "moral impulse" for Andrew, given his child self's reaction to Nina's death being the only thing he does that approximates a normal moral response to his and Ashley's actions, but if you do think that- which I think is a reasonable thing to think even if I don't necessarily agree- there's something you must also keep in mind:

-He- is the one who doesn't want to be called that anymore. -He- is the one who wants to let that moral impulse go, and Ashley is the one making it difficult.

That reading is assuming that Andy is a moral impulse, which I think is... either wrong or too simplistic. Every time I see that reading, it's from someone who's trying to paint him too sympathetically and absolve him of most moral responsibility. I also find it infantilizing to equate morality with childhood in such a way? But that's another tangent that I didn't sign up to talk about. What I do think, however, is that it's a useful framing device to display his own relationship with morality; the allegory to his child self doesn't have to be there for the general pattern to exist.

When Ashley starts to grill Andrew over the killing of the 302 lady, he gets mad. Very mad. Ashley sees it as pointless, as him covering his own ass, but he genuinely did it for her sake, because he thought that's what she wanted, and that it'd make her happy. But what makes her happy isn't violence- or any similarly extreme action for that matter- it's attention and validation. Something he's always reluctant to give her, despite the fact that he always chose her over the alternatives. But despite making that choice, it's always empty and meaningless, because in Ashley's mind, he never did it for her sake.

And hoo boy, does he not like it being framed like this.

He is perfectly willing to do whatever it takes to keep them happy and safe... but only for her sake. It has to be for her sake. He still needs that traditional role, and he still needs to have a narrative in which he's the good guy- a protector. Because it can't be for his sake. It can't be because that's what he wants. He has to uphold that romantic (in the literary tradition sense) ideal. His darkly romantic idealistic streak colors many of his actions and beliefs. This is most plainly visible in his quip about a double suicide being romantic, but it's also visible within the symbolism present within his dream, such as how he can only pave his own path in blood unless Ashley lights the way. It's visible within his appreciation for poetry, and it's visible with how the cultist within the dream speaks in Shakespearean English.

But the transient nature of this ideal is also revealed within this dream, because there's never a cohesive, guided path, even with Ashley there to light it up. Contrary to Ashley's dream, where you literally have maps showing you where to go, Andrew's dream has many more dead ends and no map to guide him. The symbolic role he acts out gives him no clarity, and there's no overarching narrative; merely a bunch of disconnected symbols.

This is contrasted with Ashley's dream, which has narratives so clear that the story literally gives the dream an episode title.

In a sense, he wants to view himself as an actor acting out a role in a story. He wants his life to be poetic, to represent something greater, and to have a cohesive narrative. This is why he's so disconnected from his true desires: He's more concerned with acting as a representative of an ideal than a person with agency. But every time the mask drops, every time he stops acting, his true self becomes visible. He naturally settles into being comfortable around Ashley, in treating her with warmth and kindness, and their banter becomes much less toxic. As intent as he is on acting out his role, it does nothing for him, and as his dream sequence shows, it doesn't even form a cohesive narrative, because he can't act one out. It's too contrary to who he really is, and what he really wants. But that idealization doesn't just apply to himself, it also applies to Ashley. Specifically, who Ashley is, vs who he wants her to be.

In his unique dream sequence, he sees two versions of Ashley; the child version of her- Leyley- and the adult version of her- Ashley. And the differences in the ways he interacts with the two of them are stunning. Leyley is an obstinate, annoying child. She's the one he NEEDS to take care of, and he hates that. He hates Leyley for what she did for his childhood. He hates that he needs to provide for her. He has the option of trying to kill her, even, over something as small as a candle!

But in the room with all the murders, the gilded cage, he sees Ashley as an adult. This version of Ashley is stuck in a closet that he himself has to open- and to choose to see. Their interactions are calm and friendly. She teases him a bit, sure, but she's still helpful, and they have fun together. He doesn't need her, and she doesn't need him. He needed Leyley- needed the candle- but here, there are other limbs strewn about for him to take. And, crucially, he doesn't even have the option to kill this Ashley for one of the limbs.

And during the choking scene, he lets her go the moment she acknowledges that he doesn't need her anymore. This is the first time we know of that he seems comfortable enough to set a clear boundary, which is acknowledging that their prior dynamic is dead and that they're now Andrew and Ashley, not Andy and Leyley. It's a bit late to express a clear boundary -after- literally acting like he was going to kill someone, but it's the first time we know of that he sets a clear standard for what, in his mind, would improve his relationship with Ashley.

After all, what he wants is to want her, not need her. He wants Ashley for Ashley's sake. Not for what she can provide him. He doesn't even need her for sleep, he just wants her. But Ashley has trouble acknowledging this, because he's never before shown that WANT. Only a NEED. She keeps trying to find ways to make him need her, because she's never seen what his desire for her is really like. She's only ever seen him desiring someone else, someone other than her.

She's only ever seen him as Andy, because she's never truly seen Andrew, only the violence he can inflict on others. But Andrew can see both:

He can see Leyley, the needy, bratty child who always needs his attention, that he needs to provide for. The one he hates and wants to get rid of. The one he kills for to protect.

And he can see Ashley, the one who engages in friendly and cute banter with him. Who comforts and shows him physical affection. The one he loves. The one he kills for to make happy.

He just can't choose which one he wants to see. Every outside influence- from his parents, to Julia, to Nina- makes him see her as Leyley. Ashley herself makes him see her as Leyley too, whenever she brings up all the things he did for her, and calls him Andy, his child self, instead of Andrew, his current self. And as long as he sees that child, he feels like one too, and can never give Ashley anything that comes from the heart.

But he really, really wants to see Ashley as an adult. He wants to take pride in her, how much she's grown, and how driven and competent she really is.

But god damn, does that bitch ever make it hard, because there IS no real difference between Ashley and Leyley. She's grown and changed over time, taking more adult (and stereotypically feminine) responsibility upon herself, but the fact that her temperament and personality hasn't changed much obfuscates that growth. When you talk to Ashley in the closet during the dream after getting the limb, Andrew asks Ashley to come out of the closet, but she refuses to come out because he won't invite Leyley over to play, which is a pretty strong metaphor for how he interfaces with different aspects of Ashley's personality and refuses to accept others. But the reality is that he needs to accept both, or rather, see her whole self as Ashley, rather than just the parts he likes.

In the end, it's him who has to make the choice how to see her. Ashley can only see what she's been shown, but Andrew can choose.

And in the basement scene, he makes that choice.

If Ashley refuses to leave him alone with their parents, that's it. In one of the most critical and important moments of his life, she couldn't give him the space needed to make up his own mind. She couldn't treat him as an adult. She couldn't see him as Andrew. If she does give him that choice, she chooses to acknowledge that Andrew is an adult who can be trusted to make his own decisions, even though she (perhaps foolishly) believes that this choice lines up with her own interests. And frankly it does either way, but in accepting their mom's offer, her chooses to see her as Leyley once and for all. He chooses not to reciprocate what Ashley showed him. He does it because he needs to, not because he wants to. Because it's his duty, not his desire.

This is what results in the Decay ending. Through his inability to see Ashley as an adult, he surrenders his agency and views all of his actions as an extension of his responsibilities, his role, which he no longer wishes to uphold. He dissociates fully from who he really is, acting in accordance with that disconnected, barely-cohesive narrative that exists only within his mind. The game starts to resemble the heartwrenching tragedy that many seem to take for granted that it is, as their dynamic fully doubles down on its painful toxicity. And, in an example of a poetic book end, Ashley's dream shows a double suicide, closing the book on their tragic tale.

It's tragic. It's heartwrenching. It's poetic. It's beautiful.

...Except it's not. Not at all.

It's actually fucking stupid, pointless, and brutal, and Burial shows us that. When we view their spiral as beautiful, we project the same darkly romantic ideal that Andrew possesses onto the story.

But the actual reality is horrifying.

Ashley spends most of Decay terrified of Andrew, the one person she found comfort in. He acts cold, distant, and aggressive towards her, showing pointless cruelty instead of any warmth. All she wants is comfort; all she wants is to not die. She doesn't want to engage in this death spiral at all, and, in her dream sequence, shows none of the same willingness to die alongside Andrew that Andrew does with her. The moment we stop focusing on the end of the Decay dream sequence, which has very striking imagery, and if you choose not to shoot, one of the most beautiful scenes in the game, we can see it for what it really is:

A scared animal running away from a predator.

The moment you see Decay through Ashley's eyes, and not the perspective of some romantic ideal, Decay becomes terrifying, tense, and painful. There is no catharsis to be had in this tragedy. It's easily avoidable as long as Andrew chooses to engage with reality, and not the empty promises of his mother and incoherent narrative of his ideal.

Finding beauty and meaning in tragedy is how we cope with the harshness of reality. But there is no coherent narrative to the tragedies we experience, just like there's no coherent narrative to the ideal Andrew wishes to uphold. It's something we create- that he creates- but it's not something that actually exists.

And when Andrew casts aside his desire for that ideal, and the responsibilities it shackles him to, it grants him clarity that he never had before. He sees the world for how it really is, and acknowledges that nobody- the least of which their mother- is as different from Ashley as they pretend to be.

They're no better than her, and he's tired of people pretending that they are. People are all the same, no matter what ideals they try to uphold and represent. They still sacrifice others in the name of advancing themselves, still punch down whenever they can, and still lay blame on those beneath them rather than try to take control of their lives. They just use those ideals to justify themselves, but Ashley, and now Andrew, reject even the need for that justification.

This is why I believe the story is nihilistic. Not in that it asserts the inherent meaninglessness of life, but in that it grapples with the ideals we uphold and how they obfuscate the reality of the world we live in. The story, intentionally or not, highlights how ideals are often but a pretense we use to justify what we were likely going to do regardless, and how holding to them too strongly can lead to our ruin- and how monstrous they make us look to those who do not share them.

Consequently, this is how I view the part of the fanbase who thinks Decay is a good ending.

(the characters themselves represent existentialism rather than nihilism but i couldn't really fit that analysis in here without it feeling forced so i might cover that another time)

From that point on, their relationship becomes a lot more friendly, lighthearted, and playful. They ironically start acting more like children, but to quote CS Lewis:

"Critics who treat adult as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence."

He's not ashamed of being playful with Ashley, or showing affection towards her. He's grown up. He finally sees her, and himself, as an adult- although he still doesn't show that in full until much later on (more or that later). But in Decay, he still sees her as a child, and to an extent, probably himself. Let's compare the ways in which he reacts to being called Andy. In Decay, he lashes out at Ashley and gets angry, even threatening her. But in Questionable Burial, he calmly says that Andy is dead and doesn't need Ashley's comfort, but still tries to reassure her that she's still needed. He's not ashamed of or hostile towards their prior dynamic, because he's grown past it. He still acknowledges Ashley's need to feel needed, but here, he recognizes its importance to her, whereas he was hostile towards it before.

It's a display of respect towards her feelings.

This interaction doesn't happen in the Sane ending, however. He doesn't play games with her and is just a lot less fun to be around all together. Why is that? Because he still hasn't yet shaken viewing Ashley as Leyley there. He still views her as a burden, as someone who needs taking care of. He's calmly accepted that, too, mind you, but he lacks respect for her because she's still a child, in his mind. But in Questionable?

The vision did more than just make him extremely embarrassed and lay his deepest desires bare. It forced him to recognize Ashley as an adult. When choosing between "Never" and "Never say never," if Never is chosen, the burden of thought is lifted off of him. But if Ashley chooses "Never say never!", he has to reckon with the fact that Ashley is an adult, someone who can consent to those kinds of things. Someone who MIGHT. Someone who has agency, and can make her own decisions. And more importantly… someone who can trust him to make his own.

Whether he desires sex or not is secondary; he's always had those feelings and has always been ashamed of them. But now that the part of him where that shame came from is dead and buried, there's no childish impulse to grow up. There's no attachment to the hate and bitterness he had before. Look at what he worries about when he picks up that she's uncertain or confused about who he is now:

​

It's her feelings.

He wants to be fun to be around. He wants to make Ashley happy. He loves her, and not as a romantic interest or even as a sibling. He loves her independent of all that baggage.

He loves her as a person.

Their relationship runs contrary to societal ideals in some pretty huge ways. So contrary, in fact, that it's hard for some to accept it as anything good, that it can ever be best for the people involved. It's incestuous. It involves them killing and eating their parents. It involves them distancing themselves so much from society that it's hard to believe they'll ever fit in it again. It's chaotic, it's messy, it's codependent, and maybe even toxic. And yet, here they are. They're coexisting. They're happy. They're healing. They're navigating the world in the only way they can: together.

Meanwhile, in Decay, Andrew refuses to allow himself to get closer to Ashley. He surrenders all agency to her, buys into his own narrative, drinks his own Kool-Aid, and may or may not condemn one or both of them to death in the process. Like it or not, the only path where Andrew takes ownership of his life is the one where he's closest to his sister. It's the one where he decides where they will go next, the one where he decides his own feelings matter, and acts in accordance with what he wants instead of how he thinks he should act.

His agency, his freedom, and his growth don't happen in spite of his codependency; they're happen because of it. They can't grow alone. They can't heal alone.

In reading the story, one must interrogate how important those societal ideals are in the face of the realities of what makes people happy. Are those ideals worth upholding in spite of this? Can we really allow people to fall through the cracks in the name of social norms? Can we blame people for taking rash actions when the social contract has failed them?

Or are we so blinded by those ideals that we can't see that people can be happy while blatantly disregarding them?

All I know is that in Burial, Andrew, having cast aside normalcy, now appears to be truly happy for the first time in his life.

Who are we to take that from him?

[sxcret-garden]

mtl of who would like choking 🫣🫣🫣

I think i just died a lil when i saw this in my inbox because i actually have a liiiiiittle bit of a choking kink myself dhbsxbdnxjxnx,,,, THAT SAID i'm gonna divide this up into giving and receiving because i have Opinions 👀🫢

giving:

most

Jongho

Wooyoung

Yunho

Hongjoong

Seonghwa

Mingi

San

Yeosang

least

Look- i'm trying to do this as objectively as possible here, so what I'm gonna say is that even if i had the ability to stay 100% objective about this and him i wouldn't put Jongho lower than nr 3. Like, we know he likes control, and what better way to have control over your partner than with your hands around their neck? Definitely the type to have his hands around your throat often if he knows you like it, even if it's not necessarily to apply pressure to your pulse. Actually super careful and responsible about the whole thing, even though feeling your reaction to him choking you turns him on soso much

Wooyoung too is super into having his hand around your throat. Even just the sight of it has him going crazy, and will definitely awaken the most possessive side of him. Loves feeling you gulp against his palm and if you go limp under his touch he could cum on the spot. Definitely needs to agree on some kind of non-verbal cue for when it gets too much for you, because no matter how much self control this guy exerts, chances are he'll lose himself in the moment every once in a while. HUGE on aftercare, will literally not stop kissing your throat on the exact spot his fingertip had been digging into your flesh, kissing it better afterwards

Yunho definitely likes the feeling of having you at his mercy with his hand around your throat. However, it's not something he needs. It's more of a thing he's more than willing to do for you if you happen to be into it, and I'm not saying he won't enjoy himself! Certainly gets off on having power over you sometimes, but he also has his days where he just wants to make love to you, and when he's overwhelmed with his softest feelings the last thing he could think about his wrapping his fingers around your throat

Hongjoong and Seonghwa are similar imo. They'd both enjoy it if it's something you're into, but they can live without it just fine. Also wouldn't really get the urge to do it every single time you're having sex, if it happens on a rare occasion that's okay by them! However, I think Hongjoong would like to do it a bit more often, whereas Seonghwa would make the whole thing that much more intense

Mingi too will be more than willing to try choking you if you're into that! But it's not among his favourite things to do to you. However!! I do think he has certain days where he craves having this kind of power over you, and then he will indulge. Hard dom Mingi jumping out every once in a while and that CERTAINLY includes him having his hands around your throat (so long as you give him the okay for it that is)

I'm very sorry to everyone who would've wanted them higher up on the list but I just don't see San and Yeosang enjoying this? Idk it's a gut feeling jddhdjd they'd both be willing to try and to do it sometimes if you're into it, but overall they'd really prefer not to. They both strike me as way too worried to seriously hurt you in the process, plus there's just a lot of other things that turn both of them on more!

receiving:

most

Wooyoung

San

Seonghwa

Hongjoong

Yunho

Mingi

Yeosang

Jongho

least

Wooyoung and San are complete goners for this kind of stuff. Like you can't tell me they wouldn't get off on their partner's hand around their throat when they're taking on the submissive role. And while Wooyoung would see it as a way to lose a battle for power in the best way possible, loving the feeling of being put into his place by you, San would just give himself up to you completely once he feels you applying pressure to his pulse. Also if we're talking breath play especially, Wooyoung would definitely be the one most willing to try being on the receiving end of it.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong hmmm... both strike me as pretty kinky actually, so I wouldn't be surprised if they were into being choked. Hongjoong especially would be the type to get experimental during sex, and being choked really is just another thing to get pleasure out of - even better if you enjoy having your hand around his throat too! As for Seonghwa I'm pretty sure the second he feels your fingertips against his pulse he'll drift off into subspace so fast... this guy is going to be at your mercy for the rest of the night or day, melting underneath you completely

Yunho wouldn't necessarily come up with the idea of having you choke him imo, but if you were the one telling him it's something you want to try he'd be more than willing to do it. And to his surprise, he'd end up enjoying it. It's not something he will crave every single time you have sex though, just something for every once in a while. When he comes up to you and guides your hand to his throat, you know he's desperate to be taken care of today...

Mingi as well would willingly let you choke him if he knows you find it hot, but it wouldn't really do anything for him. Idk, getting choked is just not his thing, he prefers other kinky stuff to try out with you!! UNLESS you do it with the intention of breath play, then he's suddenly very much here for it and also hard in an instant. It's really the power aspect that gets him going, though he needs to be really in the mood for it to enjoy it and indulge in the experience fully

Yeosang and Jongho wouldn't be big fans of it I think. Idk, I just don't see Yeosang enjoying having someone else's hand around his throat, not to say he doesn't like his partner being in control! He just prefers it in different ways that don't include the danger of him being unable to breathe... As for Jongho I'm convinced he'd see it as a playful way to pick a fight at most lol not that he wouldn't be willing to turn things around on you in a sexual way, but I just don't think your hand around his throat is gonna do much for him (sad)

[telail]

☆- HHTFH, ST. | WOOYOUNG

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Poc!Thickfem!Reader Tags: 896 wc, established relationship, heavily suggestive- like borderline smut, body worship (?), ateez drabble, minors DNI 🎧- All Mine by Kanye West note: thinking bout js making a bunch of drabbles based off of interesting tweets that pop up on my feed. Also js want wooyoung to hold my titties.

-

“Really Wooyoung.” You sigh, leaning back into your boyfriend's somewhat embrace.

“What? You said you were tired, I’m doin’ you a favor.” He scoffed playfully.. “You should be grateful.” 

You’d come home not even an hour ago completely worn out. It felt like your clients had particularly had it out for you today with their painfully obvious questions and nitpicking. 

By the last hour of your work day of course you’d been dying to return home to your man and be up under him. Expecting him to kiss and cuddle away your stress, as he normally would- but of course, Wooyoung just had to have his spontaneous moments of odd but endearing affection. Like now.

He’d come behind you in a back hug once you’d gotten out of the shower and opted for changing into something comfy and sitting on your super comfort-appealing mattress. You assumed he was going to pepper you in his usual affection, kisses and gentle questions about your day as he massaged your tired limbs.

But instead he’d made it his business to slide his slender fingers underneath the loose shirt you wore, letting his warm fingers crawl up your middle all the way up to your chest. His hands sprawled over each of your breasts as he cupped them.

“Not now babe, m’tired.” You said, thinking he was trying to initiate something. To which he responded with a kiss to your cheek assuring you that he wasn't going to try anything.

“Relax,” he said, stretching the last syllable “m’ just holding them.” He kissed the backside of your neck, letting his lips linger there  before continuing. “..they’re soft.” 

“I bet they are.” You mumbled, letting out a soft giggle as you felt him gently pulse the plush flesh in his grip. 

You felt his lips curve into a smile from where they lingered on your skin. “Love your boobs.” he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear as he did so. “Fit my hands jus’ right, you’d think they were made for me.” 

A familiar heat began to brew in your belly, making its way all over your body as his words made your soul flutter with the intimacy infused within them.

“Stop,” you responded shyly, but Wooyoung knew good and well that you were enjoying this. Not more than he was though.

“Why should I?” He questioned in faux confusion, moving both of your bodies so that he was now spooning you while his hands remained glued to your tits.

You allowed him to pull your body down, lazily following his lead as you decided on leaving him without a response and burying your face into the nearest pillow instead.

Wooyoung only smirked at your lack of response, finding your reactions amusing. 

“Love your pretty waist.” He continued, one of his hands leaving the comfort of your chest to trail down to your waist. The tickly sensation made you jump a bit as he lightly squeezed the area he spoke of.

Every reaction from you was only adding fuel to his fire. Although he did enjoy seeing you flustered there was no doubt that he meant every word that came out of his mouth.

He moved his lips from your ear to the curve of your neck. Not leaving a single spot without a kiss as he felt you up.

“Love your tummy,” he mumbled, his voice laced with a slight rasp and love as his middle finger smoothed over your navel. “and your sexy ass hips..” You felt him smile against your neck before playfully nipping it.

His free hand continued its journey along your body, eventually finding one of your love handles and giving it an affection squeeze before he was slipping his hand from under your shirt.

“But overall..” He started, reaching to pull the pillow you’d been squeezing away from your face. “I love you, more than life it's damn self.” He finished, gently moving your head in his direction so he could give you the kiss you’ve been desperately craving all day.

“Love you too.” You mumbled against his lips, diving right back into what he’d started but a little less gentle and more passionate. 

“Make me feel so good about myself.” You said. Suddenly you weren't as tired as you were 5 minutes ago. 

“As I should..” Wooyoung replied, fighting back a sound as you swung a leg over his waist, hoisting yourself up to straddle him around his pelvic area.

By now he’d finally moved his hands from their place on your boobs to rest them on your hips as you continued to kiss him feverishly.

Just when he was starting to get comfortable you pulled away, cooing at how he chased your lips before sitting up. 

The subtle roll of your hips was obviously enough to get Wooyoung going. Adam's apple bobbing as you grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your chest, this time with your hand over his.

“Thought you said you were tired..” 

He sounded strained, as if he was trying his absolute hardest to not fall apart right then and there, a pretty tint of pink coating his features as he made eye contact with you.

“I’m up now.” You said, flashing him a smile before pressing your hips down harder with every glide of your hips.

“o- oh fuc-”

He was in for a ride. Literally.

excuse any mistakes :p

[dsireland86]

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp  @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

"I'm so afraid/That the walls that I have made have locked me in/I'm not okay/But I can try my best to just pretend/So will you wait me out until I let you down?/So will you wait me out until I let you down" -Just Pretend (Acoustic)-

Everything falls apart after that. My erratic hunger takes control of my senses, blurring the lines between respecting or degrading her body. I told her I don't want to hurt her, but that doesn’t mean I won't. In the mask, I’ve become someone else; a bolder, darker me. It’s the version that takes over my mind at night when I’m all alone and sexual hunger is the only thing I can think about. It’s the version of me I’ve never let anyone see; until now. 

I drive the head of my cock into her entrance, seeing that I really am a lot bigger than her tight hole. I take a moment to stretch her some, in and out slowly so I don’t hurt her too much. But the further in I go, the harder it is to come back out. I want to stay in her, sink all the way into her until her ass and my groin are inseparable.  “The first time I touched you, you were so wet for me, soaked in your arousal.” I run my hand up her back, feeling her shudder, pressing harder into her. Her cries are alluring. “Then I heard you moan when you had my dick in your mouth and you swallowed every drop of my cum like a good little slut that you are.” I slowly fuck into her, forcing my cock deeper into her. “Fuck, Noah!” she cries. 

Folio’s watching me, eyes staring hard at us, as I'm about to fully fuck his girlfriend. I pull out of her, feeling her legs trembling. “Spread your legs more, Princess. I want to see.” My voice is like gravel, filled with lust. I’m aching so badly, my hardened cock throbbing from the slow torture even more than before.  With her ass raised high and legs spread apart, her pussy is very visible to me. It's pink and glistening wet with her arousal I dip the tip of my cock inside her again, just to see her reaction and she pushes back instantly, rutting against it like I knew she would. “Your pussy is aching for me right now,” I mutter, thrusting my tip against her entrance. “You want it baby, well then here you go.” With one hard vicious thrust, I enter her, letting her neck go and grabbing her hips as I pull back and give her another single, wild and aggressive thrust that makes her scream my name. “That’s it, Princess, scream my name,” I coax her. Another thrust. Fuck! “Holy shit, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around me! Goddamn, you feel incredible. So tight, so fucking tight!" I growl as I start to fuck her in the true sense of the word until I find a rhythm that fits us. 

Her cries are loud and brutal, turning me on to the point I grow and grunt like a feral animal each time I slam back into her, coating my cock in her juices. “God you fucking love it like this, don’t you, Princess.” “Yes! Ugh I love it, fuck, Noah, I love it.” “Yeah, I know you are a pretty girl. You like my cock fucking you like this, like a fucking animal, filling you in ways Folio never can.” She screams my name again, as I lift her ass higher, allowing me to fuck up into her deeper and hit that soft spot inside her again. “Scream my name baby, that’s it!” I yell, plowing into her from behind. For long minutes, the only sound is our heavy breathing, the creaking of the bed, and the slapping of flesh hitting flesh. I’m desecrating her like I wanted to, with the depravity of my mind and body, imprinting the shape of my cock into her cunt. She won’t ever be able to forget how I feel inside her. “Louder! Scream fucking louder for me,” I growl out through clenched teeth. Her desperate moans turn into a scream, but it’s still not good enough. 

“We both know you can be louder than that, baby.” I raise my other hand and let it come down hard on her ass, smacking the pail skin again, marking a favorite spot on her that I love. It earns me the sound I’ve been looking for. “There it is! God-fucking- dammit,” I growl again. “Noah,” she pants, moaning louder. “Right there,” she cries out. “Don’t stop! Right there!” I can feel her pussy clenching my cock, telling me she’s about to cum. “You’re nothing but a fucking little whore for me, aren’t you, Princess. You’ll let me fuck you however I want, especially if I can make that pretty pink pussy cum all over my tongue or my cock. Am I right, baby,” I growl, lifting her ass up higher to fuck her at a different angle; deeper and rougher. “Jesus, Noah!” she screams, as I find a different rhythm and position to fuck her brutally, shoving her thighs further apart as I’m hammering harder into her pussy. “Fuck,” I murmur, panting. “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” 

She’s gasping and crying, moaning my name over and over. “Noah,” she whimpers. “Say it again, Princess,” I growl, plunging deep into her pussy. “Fuck! Noah!” she gasps. “Who’s fucking you, baby,” grunting through another thrust. “Oh god!” she cries when I hit her g-spot. “You are, Noah. You are!”  I grab her hair and yank her back against me. Her hands are still bound and her tangled fingers hit my chest as I lock her hip between me and the mattress. I pull out of her soaking wet cunt only to slam back in with deep force, tangling my hands into her hair even more. I let out a strained moan repeating the hard thrust again, feeling her reaction against it. “You can take it! I know you can!”

Another loud moan rips through her, echoing in the room. It’s the very thing I need to push harder into and begin to truly fuck her like she deserves; fast and relentlessly.  Folio slips the black ski mask on and watches us from across the room, seated in the comfort of the gray couch that’s pushed up against the wall. Moments ago I watched him finger fuck her as I at her out until she came all over my face. It was so pornographic, deranged and fucked up what he and I did to her at the same time but holy fuck was it satisfying. It made every desire of possessing her mind and body come alive, fully waking the demon I’d been trying so hard to keep away. 

“What’s wrong, Folio? Don’t you like what you see? Listen to her! She sounds so beautiful, just like this morning,” I taunt him, using the girl below me for my pleasure alone. She’s trying to hold out and not cum, but at the pace I’m fucking her at, she won’t last much longer. I feel the familiar build up in my groin, telling me I won’t wither. My grunts are abundant, my breathing is heavy. Spitting on my fingers, I reach around and find that spot of her clit and rub it, knowing fully well it’s all she needs to push her over the edge. “Oh god, Noah, fuck! Noah, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Folio stands before her, completely wrecked from everything he’s watching. He says nothing, just silently watches as his girlfriend comes apart for me. “You wanna cum, pretty girl?” “Yeah, Noah, please,” she begs. I kiss her shoulder and give her the okay. “Alright, then cum for me baby. Cum so I can spill myself all over you!”

Finally, her pussy gives in and she explodes around my cock, screaming my name as she does. Her body is trembling as I continue fucking her through her orgasm, feeling that same familiar pressure. “Shit, goddammit Princess, I’m about to cum, f-fuck!” I growl thrusting hard into her one more time, ripping the black ski mask off, before pulling out and shoving her body back down on the mattress, spilling my seed over her ass and lower back. Completely out of breath I look up at Folio and grin wickedly at him before collapsing over top of her.

“I had the whole damn world and I gave it all away/What did I think I would save?/For better or for worse, this is my burden to take'/Cause I'm the only one to blame/You're so much better off/With nothing but memories” -The Fountain-

“Do you know how good it feels to have you lying here so vulnerable in my arms?” Her words cut my heart wide open. I close my eyes, absorbing the feeling of her fingertips caressing the skin of my face, over my lips, and down my neck. I slip a hand beneath her head and raise her up to meet my mouth, kissing her gently, slowly as our tongues massage one another’s.  A chill runs over my body from her hands running down my back and over my ass, making me shiver. My body is laying over top of hers. She has one leg locked around one of mine while I have her other one spread out and my knee gently pressed against her core. She’s tired, exhausted, and spent from everything that Folio and I have put her through. 

I’ve disposed of the mask, no longer hiding behind the face of anger. I’m unguarded, a complete open book for her now and I’m terrified. I’ve never let her see me like this and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I kiss her again, taking my time to taste every part of her mouth and tongue that I can. As I stare into her soft eyes, I no longer see the resentment for me in them. I only see love and compassion. What changed? I’ve been horrible to her for the last few hours, hurting her, degrading her, saying vile and mean things to her and yet, she’s right here beneath me, even though she doesn’t belong to me. 

“So give me something beautiful/So give me something else/I need another miracle/I really need some help, I need a miracle” -Miracle

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” My apology catches her off guard. She frowns, expression ridden with confusion. “I was stupid and inconsiderate of you, of your heart. I tried to blame everything on you and I hurt you so badly.” I try to breathe through the panic rising in my chest, but it’s hard to. “Noah, don’t,” she says, closing her eyes. “I know, I know, I’m not, fuck! God, this is painful.” I drop my head to her chest, and she sweetly presses me against her. My cheek lays partially on her breast, close enough to her nipple. I rub the end of my nose against it and I feel her hum in approval, and then I lick it, swirling around it with the tip of my tongue. She sighs, moaning softly and arching her back a little, encouraging me to take the whole thing into my mouth. 

Gently sucking her tit, my fingers find her pussy, and knowing it so well now, I slip two fingers inside her, sliding them over her inner walls, so wet and warm; still. I fuck her cunt slowly and as sweetly as I can, watching the mix of expressions that wash over her beautiful face. “Noah, what are you doing,” she breaths while I attack her neck with kisses, slightly covered with small purple bruises. “What does it feel like I'm doing? It doesn’t hurt does it? She softly moans, shaking her head when my thumb circles her clit. She digs her nails into my biceps. That's when I notice her tears. Her eyes are shut tight, but the proof of hurt slides down the sides of her face. “Hey, look at me,” nudging her face with mine. Her eyes open. They're glazed over with tears. My eyes dart between hers, trying to find the answers I'm looking for. Her fingers find my lips and I kiss their tips.

“I waited you out, Noah. I waited until I hit the bottom.” “But I drowned you out, didn't I?” She doesn't say anything, just pulls me down and slips her tongue in my mouth, kissing me like she needs all the air in my lungs. “Why did you pretend not to notice? Not to care? You saw the pain and the confusion in me. You knew you were hurting me. Why didn't you stop? We could've been together, Noah. This could've been our life.” 

Watching her tears fall is destroying me. Every teardrop is a stab to the chest that cuts open the wound that I realize has never healed. “I don't know,” is the only answer I can give her. I can't look her in the eyes any longer, so I turn away, digging into my eyes with my thumb and index finger. “You were good enough, Noah, for me. You were everything I wanted. And I wanted you so fucking bad. I needed you and you just fucking left me.” “I know, okay,” I snap, weeping softly. The pain I feel is too much. I don’t want to feel it anymore.  “I know what I did to you, and I have to fucking live with that choice for the rest of my life.” Slipping my hands around her face, I sit up and pull her into my lap. Nothing else around us seems to exist right now. I’m lost in the brokenness I feel, lost in the idea of what could’ve been, but what is at the moment just for a few more hours. Right now, she’s mine; only mine. I don’t care about what comes later. 

I’m hard for her again. I want to feel her cum on my cock one more time, but this time I want to watch her. “Noah,” she whispers, her breath shaky and weak. I slide my fingers through her folds and she’s already soaked. I lift her slightly, aligning her pussy with cock and shove myself into her, feeling instant gratification. “Uh, fuck, I like this position,” I sigh as she smiles with a light laugh and starts thrusting herself hard into me. “Noah, oh, damn.” “Yeah, I know,” I grunt. Her pace quickens, letting me know she wants to be in control. “You want to take over? You wanna ride me, baby?” She nod’s quickly. “Yeah of course you do. Alright, come on,” I say shifting myself around without coming out of her and laying on my back. “Alright, pretty girl, ride me. Make me cum for you,” I challenge her.

She grabs my hands and places them on her breasts as she begins moving up and down, working my cock inside her warm cunt. The feeling is indescribable. It makes me moan, curse, dig my fingers and nails into her thighs. “God dammit, Princess, that’s it. Fuck my cock just like that. God you’re pussy fucks me so good.” Her soft moans quickly become soft screams, which are suddenly silenced by Folio’s lips on hers. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her face back towards him, devouring her lips and her tongue.  “Make him cum, sweetheart, so I can finally have you back.” Folio’s eyes shift to mine and as much as I want to hate him and be angry at him, I can’t. It wasn’t part of the deal. I have to give her back. She doesn’t belong to me. She turns back to me, lowering herself to kiss me, dragging her lips and tongue across the skin of my neck. Taking me hands, she holds them on either side of my head, locking her fingers tight around mine, and starts to fuck me. Slow at first, fully talking my heart forever with each bite to my neck that she takes. Then her pace quickens and she fucks me harder.

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t stop,” I tell her, staring straight into her eyes. I can feel her pussy tightening around me as my cock twitches. She’s close. With every move she’s pulling my cum closer and closer to the tip with her tightness hugging it like a warm glove. I can’t push the feeling back any longer. The heat in my groin, the tingle in my cock, my sensitive tip, and the dead giveaway… my balls fucking ache. “God, Princess,” I pant. I’m dying to touch her, but she still has my hands pinned down. “Is this how you fucking felt, tied up?” “Worse.” “Fuck! I’m sorry! Let me go, please. I want to touch you.” “No.” I growl. “Let me go, now!” With a few more thrusts, she lets up, releasing my arms. I gather her in my arms right as I watch her cum on my cock for the first time. The way she bites her lip, throwing her head back and milking herself by grinding so hard on my cock, is all it takes for me to reach my end. 

“I wanna cum inside you,” I pant. Still cumming herself, she clings to me and whispers in my ear . “The fucking fill me, Sebastian.” “Holy fuck!” I cry, releasing my load inside her, filling her fully like she wants. I squeeze her tight, burying my face in the crook of her neck, feeling her kisses on the side of my face. “I love you, Noah,” she says breathlessly. This is her goodbye. “The past is over. Let's move on. I wanna move on.”  Kissing my lips one more time, I close my eyes as she climbs off of me, letting go me, and I fall back into the comfort of the bed. She really did let me go that easily; after everything I said to her. I’m exhausted; physically and mentally. I turn my head and see my black ski mask laying next to me. I pick it up, bring it to my face and breathe in deeply. It smells like her. I let the tears fall silently as I think about her, wondering what our lives are going to look like once the three of us leave this place. I know I won't be able to look at her the same, I won’t be able to watch her and Folio together and not feel jealous, envying him every single time he goes to bed at night. I know this love I have for her could ruin me, but I can't stop. And even if I could, would I? She and I are like fire and ice, destined to collide, but never meant to be together. 

She left me. Just like I left her. She destroyed me. Just like I destroyed her. And as I lay here alone, listening to the sounds of their love making coming from the bathroom, I suddenly feel so empty without her. Even though she was never mine, losing her broke my heart.

THE END

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 12th - Sex Toys (Papa Emeritus I x Female!Reader)

Tags: Dom!Primo, Sex Toys, Fingering, Anal Play, (Light) Temperature Play, Orgasm Denial, Begging, Edging, Dacryphilia, Age Gap, 1st Person POV

There are benefits to being Primos favorite. Out of the many men and women he calls to his chambers on those lonely nights, I am the one he holds the most dear, the one that he invites to warm his bed the most. Sure, it rouses jealousy from Siblings and Ghouls who are vying for Papas attention, but I could care less when I'm snuggled in his arms, basking in the afterglow of our late night endeavors.

With age, his sexual escapades have declined along with his libido. After a lifetime of fucking, he's not too keen to experiment anymore, wanting nothing more than to just lay back and get whatever partner he chooses for the night to slowly rock back and fourth his cock. It's still nice to indulge in sins of the flesh every so often, even if his age doesn't allow him to cum every time anymore. Making his partners cum is the greatest reward he could receive, viewing the act as his own personal worship, each orgasm an offering to Asmodeus.

When Primo shot me a look during black mass, the same look he always gives me when he wants me in his bed as soon as possible, I didn't think tonight would be anything special. I arrived later that evening, immediately reaching for his cock hidden underneath his robes, but he gently grabbed my hand, stopping me. "No need, cara mia. Papa wants to please you tonight." He purrs, guiding me to the bed. "I'd like to try something new. Will you allow me, mia piccola fiore?"

I was a little surprised he wanted to switch things up, but I was more than willing, quite curious to see what he had in mind. I nod in agreeance, stripping myself of my clothing and laying on the bed with my legs spread, ready for him to do what he wishes. He starts out warming me up with his fingers, nothing unusual, but still feels so incredibly good every single time. His hands are skilled, the decades of experience he had under his belt showing. He gets me so close to the precipice, but the moment I warn him, he pulls away. I found it strange, considering usually he loved to make me cum, as quickly as possible, and as many times as possible. But I suppose he did say he wanted to try something different, right?

He licked my arousal off his fingers, groaning softly at the taste. He shuffles off the bed with an exasperated grunt, looking through his bedside drawer and pulling out a sizable black box. He smirks, opening the box and taking out a small, phallic shaped object; a vibrator. I blush, restraining myself from kicking my feet in gleeful excitement. Turning it on to its lowest setting, he places it on my clit, making me let out a pleasured squeal. I was already sensitive from his fingers, causing a shock of ecstasy to shoot directly to my core. Primo snickers at my reaction, clearly receiving all the satisfaction he wanted just by watching me wriggle against the hunk of plastic.

He switched to a higher setting, his grin only growing the louder I moan. "Do you want to try another, cara?" His voice rumbles in his chest, my cunt clenching around nothing. "Y-you have more?" I ask, bewildered. "Many more. Pick one." He nods. With the box now sat beside me, I reach a shaky hand inside, feeling around, the vibrating on my sex making it significantly harder to concentrate. I pull out something long and ice cold to the touch; a ribbed glass dildo, clearly meant for anal pleasure. I shudder.

"You want to try that one, mia trioa? You want me to pump that inside you while the vibrator is still on your pretty little clit?" He muttered, his hot breath hitting my skin, making all the hairs on my body stand up. "Yes!" I cry out desperately, my body screaming for any sort of penetration, no matter where it was or what was doing it.

He inserts the toy inside my ass, thoroughly lubed up prior, of course. The sudden sharp coolness of it makes me tense up, but after a few soft thrusts, I start to get used to the feeling, relaxing myself. He moves it in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, going deeper and deeper inside of me, my breath hitching with every inward push. The vibrator, now on the highest setting, has me downright convulsing, both sensations mixing together in an overwhelming amalgamation of pleasure.

"Papa, oh f-fuuck! I'm- i'm gonna cum!" I pant, the familiar feeling creeping up once again. Primo stops his ministrations, the vibrator suddenly turned back to the lowest setting, my sweet bliss ripped away cruelly once again. He clicks his tongue mockingly. "Beg. Beg for release." He gravels, his voice thick with lust. This was so far off from how he usually was with me, but that doesn't mean that this wasn't so fucking hot. Hot and frustrating, but more so hot.

"P-please Papa, please! I- I'll do anything, just please fucking let me cum! F-fuck, I love you, Papa, make me cum!" The admission came out spontaneously, so desperate and pleasure-centered that my mouth developed a mind of its own. Primo was taken aback. Sure, we both knew that we had developed a mutual care and respect for each other, but this was purely a sexual relationship, no love or exclusivity whatsoever. My cheeks reddened in embarrassment, Primos once lustful expression molds into one of poorly concealed shock. Then, an unreadable twinkle in his eyes. He sets the vibrator back on its maximum setting, plunging the dildo back inside of me.

My eyes roll back, face contorted tightly at the continuation of my pleasure. Tears start to form in the corner of my eyes, streaming down my cheeks as quickly as they developed, overstimulated and needy. My orgasm builds up, quicker than last time, my brain fogged and fuzzy, everything in my reality starting to slowly fade and distort. "Cum." Is all Primo says, and I can feel myself finally let go, surrendering to the sensations he was bringing me. It hit me so much harder than usual, after being denied release for so long.

Coming down from my blissful high, he turns off the vibrator, slowly inching the dildo out of me, setting the two toys down. He leans over me, and when I think he's about to tenderly wipe away my tears, he instead obscenely licks them from my cheeks. I shiver at the wetness of his tongue, the shockwaves of my orgasm still running though my veins, causing involuntary muscle spasms. My eyes flutter shut, the unrelenting grasp of sleepiness pulling me away. Primo tucks a blanket over me, sitting beside me with a strained huff.

"I love you too, you know that, piccola fiore?" He whispers earnestly, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of my head. I hum contently, already drifting off. I don't know exactly what he means, if he loves me in a platonic sense, or returns my romantic affections. That's a question I'll have to delve further into in the morning, his arms pulling me into a firm, comforting hold, lulling me to sleep. Oh, the benefits of being Primos favorite.

-

[jslittlebirdie]

pairing: ledger!joker x GN!reader

summary: You and J spend Halloween together carving a pumpkin and playfully teasing each other.

word count: 679

warnings: slightly graphic language, a bit of innuendo at the end of the drabble

A/N: I haven't written and posted anything in forever. The burnout is hitting hard. So I'm not sure if this little thing turned out well or not. But I want to try to somehow get my creativity and inspiration back. Maybe someone will like it a little bit.

taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @ajokeformur-ray @these-written-reveries

Carving Time

A loud, wet squelching noise echoed through the room as he plunged the blade deeper and deeper into the soft flesh. A greenish strand of hair stuck to his forehead where the sticky, thick liquid had splashed into his face. He frowned in concentration, but his toothy grin gave away just how much he enjoyed it. You watched him with wide eyes, following every single one of his skillful movements. Anyone else would have been frightened by this sight, but not you. You were almost hypnotized, perhaps staring a bit too much at his hands.

A few more well-aimed knife stabs and the sinister deed was done. He smacked his lips in satisfaction and put the knife down. Almost immediately his attention was back on you, dark brown eyes piercing into your soul, causing you to look away, caught, and making him chuckle with amusement. Heat rose in your cheeks, but you tried to ignore it. It was silly and endearing that after all this time he still had the same effect on you. He would probably never say it out loud, but he loved it.

"Was that it, toots? Or is there more I have to take care of, hm? Just say the word and I'll make sure that nothing else will bother ya."

Something in his voice made you shudder, but you leaned in to give him a small peck on his cheek. If you listened carefully enough though, you could hear him softly grumbling under his breath. You would probably have to give him some proper kisses later to make up for it. Especially considering what you were planning to do. "No, no. Thank you, J. I can do the rest alone."

Thanks to his help, you could finally open the cavity. A sweetish foul scent flooded your sinuses and made you cough. But you shrugged it off. Maybe it was a little too unorthodox, but you preferred to use a big spoon to get rid of the guts. And when nothing helped, you stuck your hand in the opening to remove the last remnants. A sensory nightmare, the way the masses felt between your fingers. Slimey and gooey. You grimaced in disgust.

J cackled next to you when he noticed your reaction. You were just too adorable. "Seems like ya need some more training, doll."

You decided to just ignore him. You would get your sweet revenge soon enough. You paused to examine your work and when you thought it was good enough, you reached for the knife. But J was quick to grab your wrist and stop you. He tsk-ed at you and shook his head when he saw your questioning look.

"Not this one. Don't wantcha to get hurt." He rummaged in one of the countless pockets of his royal purple coat until he pulled out a small ordinary kitchen knife. "That's way better."

You huffed. But at the same time, it made your heart feel all warm and fluffy that he cared so much about you. For a brief moment, you questioned your idea. But it was just too good to stop now. Why should it always be him teasing you? Why not the other way around? You smiled innocently at him and then took the smaller knife from him. Luckily, this part of the work didn't take too long. Only a few more cuts were needed to get the desired result.

Finally, you turned around the fully carved pumpkin so that he could see it. You watched him closely, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. And you got exactly the reaction you expected, it seemed like he liked your Batman pumpkin. His smile immediately dropped and his gaze snapped to you, dark eyes even darker than usual. Once again, anyone else would have been frightened by this sight. But you trusted him. You knew him good enough to see the playful and challenging glint in the darkness of his beautiful eyes. It made you giggle and squeal with anticipation.

"I'll give you a ten second head start. One, two..."

[postmodern-blues]

A full live breakdown of my reaction and thoughts to the Variety interview because I feel like I’m going crazy.

- I fucking KNEW Reitman was going to reduce each cast member to one aspect of themselves. I FUCKING CALLED IT. Pretty sure I laid it out in a dm exchange with @mrs-jake-blues. Reitman, you goddamn bastard.

- “Like that Peter Jackson documentary about The Beatles- What was it like when certain songs were written?” Make a documentary then. What the fuck are you doing making a biopic style movie when you had access to all the people you wanted to interview. Tell the truth rather than making the story into a movie and the people into characters. I can’t tell you how excited I’d be if they were making a documentary about the first SNL episode.

- SO glad that Rosie Shuster’s actress got to speak with her directly. That is a comfort, in fairness.

- I’m still furious about who they picked for Gilda. Young hollywood beauty standards are a disease. They could have spent 2 extra minutes finding someone who was as interesting and distinctive as Gilda. someone jewish even

- “I wanted to talk to Lorne, but Jason didn’t think that was a good idea” what the fuck does that mean. Are you kidding me? Why??

- “The internet is very abundant” girl come ON

- “Oh, I didn’t have to meet him and I didn’t have to try and figure him out because he’s a different man” are you saying that people fundamentally and irreconcilably change as they grow older and more famous, retaining not even a spark of their former selves? Jesus Christ just one conversation man

- “One of the things that Jason was really clear about with us as soon as we got going was that we were trying to capture the spirit of this moment in time and the essence of these people at this moment in time” I don’t know man that just seems like a super weak excuse for why the still living members of the cast and crew weren’t more involved. Why does your movie have to be some kind of ultra special time capsule if the people it’s about didn’t really get a say in how they were portrayed?

- “We didn’t have to think about them ten years later or even think about them once they had been affected by fame” that would be much more interesting though. You know that, right? Because then you’d be forced to write and portray them as complex people rather than stock characters for your boy wonder self insert fantasy

- “We were representing them, not recreating them.” What???? It sounds like you’re doing the opposite, actually.

- “Being on set and seeing everybody in their wardrobe, it was like, oh my god these are like superheroes or like shakespearean characters that everyone is familiar with that we’re getting the honor to show our interpretation of” Okay if he’s talking about the actual CHARACTERS, like Emily Litella or the bees or whatever, FINE. But you can get the same thing just by putting on a conehead mask on halloween. But if he means the players?? Insane thing to say. They’re not characters, they’re people. Two of them died young. There is an excess of storytelling and mythology surrounding them, but they are in fact people. To call them characters and to claim you can have an “interpretation” on them is laughable. This is the kind of shit that gets biopics torn to shreds. You can’t just take the history of a living human person and reduce it to an acting exercise. You’re doing everyone a disservice.

- “Dylan’s voice is insane in this movie” Unbelievably offensive. At least I’m getting some confirmation that O’Brien is attempting a Canadian accent but girl wtf is wrong with you why would you say that? Dan Aykroyd actually sounds like that! It’s not insane; it’s his fucking voice! Christ alive

- “I did not do a lot” And there it fucking is folks. My worst nightmare made flesh. Every single fucking nitpicky thing I’ve said about this movie made manifest and validated in one little sentence. The guy playing the most interesting guy ever to grace showbusiness: Dan Aykroyd, who is a fascinating, multilayered, quirky, abundantly creative, unlikely genius, who has given us the greatest and most beloved films in the past century. He didn’t research to play that guy. I’m shaking with fury it’s just so unbelievable. And Reitman has a direct line of access to the actual living breathing human man! The man who, as author Daniel de Vise described, went so far as to offer the details of his route to school for de Vise’s newest book. Aykroyd would be willing to talk, I know it. Jesus H tap dancing christ I cannot even fucking believe it. Worst case scenario.

- “In that way, you followed Jason’s direction” die

- “The idea is to capture one piece of essence of the character. You can’t actually replicate a person.” Insane shit. I thought the idea was to capture a moment in time? This is just further solidifying my fervent belief that this could have been a documentary. A documentary can do WAY more and go WAY deeper than a movie with regard to historical stuff like this. ESPECIALLY when you have the people in question sit down and explain themselves. You can’t replicate a person, so why make them characters? Why not try your hand at documentary filmmaking instead of making this all about you, Reitman?

- “I was in terror that I’d ruin my career over trying to do this.” “Are you serious?” Okay at least Chevy’s actor gets what a big fucking task this is. Everyone else is acting like it’s no big deal to do no research and stumble your way through playing one of these people. At least he respects that this is a legacy worth PREPARING FOR

- “You spend a lot of time in this film watching these people not performing but living” GREAT POINT. ALMOST LIKE YOU SHOULD GET TO SPEAK WITH THE PERSON AND GET A SENSE OF THEIR VOICE AND MANNERISMS. HMMM

- I really respect Chevy’s actor right now actually. Not only did he go in depth with interviews trying to get a sense of Chevy as a person, but he actually seems to have picked up Chevy’s inflections and mannerisms and such in a way that is convincing. As someone who has watched a lot of Aykroyd interviews (as many as say someone playing him should) I can list specific vocal and physical habits of his for you in detail. I get the sense this guy could do that for chevy, that gives me a small sense of relief.

- Thank GOD Garrett’s actor got to speak with him. Garrett is fucking old, guys. Can you imagine if instead of a shitty poorly researched biopic starring bland young people, we could have an in depth and stylistically pleasant documentary starring all the still living people who were involved before a lot of them die?? Because remember most of them are in their 70s and 80s??

- If they make Garrett “the black one”… if they make his whole character about how he’s the only black guy. I’m literally gonna kill myself. Super inspiring guys. Great job. I don’t really have any reason to think they will but the way they talk about him just irks me slightly

- “He was going through a lot more than just having to perform” something you’d only know by talking to him, once again.

- “Jason was spot on with his writing” based on everything I have seen I am very much inclined to disagree. Jason doesn’t seem to give a shit about reality

- “The one thing I’m not going to do is I’m not going to watch any of the first season of SNL” from GILDA’S actress is CRAZY. How do you know what her characters and physical comedy are like then?? What the fuck that is so insane. Why would you do that??? My confidence in the quality of the Gilda performance just dropped back to zero.

- “Our dressing rooms were designed and catered for our characters’ personalities” weird as shit. Stop calling them characters.

- “There was this clip of Gilda that I had never seen before” Literally insane. Unfathomable.

- “Gilda was the fairy dust, Garrett was looking for his identity, Chevy is an ego that needs to be humbled, Aykroyd is this genius that’s like filtering a firehose through a straw, each one had like one thing to focus on that was their journey” Congratulations Mr. Reitman you’ve officially read the introductory paragraph of a 500 page book about SNL. Usually a sane person would finish that book before presuming to turn its subject into a movie. But fuck man whatever.

To be completely honest the thing that kills me is the smugness with which he delivers all of this. It’s like he feels entitled to this story because his late father was of the set that produced this era of comedy history. And Ghostbusters, I get. Ghostbusters is Ivan Reitman’s legacy, and it makes sense to pass it on to his son. I love the new Ghostbusters movies. But this is different, man. This isn’t yours. And everything about this interview and the promo just oozes with presumption. I truly believe that if he really gave a shit about telling this story in a way that was meaningful and paid hearty homage to the people involved, he’d make a damn good documentary. He has the connections to make it happen and the stylistic eye to make it memorable. It could be the next STEVE! (martin). But he chose to make a biopic comedy, and he chose to tell his actors not to research, not to speak with the subjects of their portrayals. And he seems to think it’s some kind of big flex that his actors don’t know shit about the 70 somethings they’re playing because “it’s just a moment in time”. Horseshit excuse, dude. This group of people matters to me. The complex dynamics and the internal grappling with fame and the comedic theses of each one (I mean, comedy MEANT something to Gilda Radner. She performed with purpose. To fail to watch the most famous examples of her prowess is absolutely inexcusable), it’s all important. And Reitman is acting like it’s not. All that’s important is that his name comes up in the same sentence as the legends he wishes he was. Fuck all the way off.

And seriously, I mean, I know I’ve been snarky about the Aykroyd portrayal without any real reason, given how little we’ve gotten of him, but the confirmation from the horse’s mouth that O’Brien barely did any research justifies all of it. Absolutely revolting development. My confidence in this movie (such as it was) has waned to absolute zero. I will not abide by this being how these people and this show are remembered. Congratulations, guys, you Bohemian Rhapsody’d one of the most important moments in comedy history. Exeunt.

[jedimordsith]

Deleted Scene from Latibule

Luke looked up from his reading when the door to the Organa-Solo apartment slid open. Han wandered into the sitting room a moment later. His sense was warm and relaxed, and his attire matched. His formal jacket was slung over one shoulder, his shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his spavat had been untied and hung loose at his collar.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted. “Pretty quiet in here. You didn’t sell my kids to the circus, did you?”

”Not for lack of trying,” Luke quipped back, marking his spot and tossing his data pad on the lounger beside him. “Ringmaster said they were too small yet. Since I have to wait and try again next year, I dropped them back in their beds. They’ve been out cold for an hour. How was the event?”

“Just like every other one,” Han shrugged and flung his jacket over a nearby chair. “Lots of fancy people who like to listen to themselves talk eating fussy hors d'oeuvres and drinking wine that’s more label than taste. Leia had a good time until she and Winter got cornered into a hush-hush meeting with Mon over something.” He frowned. “Why didn’t you go, anyway? You like museums.”

“I’ve already been,” Luke said casually, rolling to his feet and grabbing his glass from the side table.

”This was the grand opening,” Han objected. “What, did you get some kind of special Jedi tour?”

“Something like that,” Luke offered noncommittally, angling past his brother-in-law toward the kitchen.

Han’s demeanor turned smug. “Let me guess — it was one of your excursions with Jade.”

“It might have been,” Luke shot a sly look over his shoulder. “But I’d keep that suspicion to yourself if I was you.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

”Because you have a life day coming up, and if you don’t do anything to bring unwanted attention to Mara, a bottle of Whyren’s gold might find its way into your gift pile.”

“Gold label?” Ambling after him, Han whistled. “How’re you affording that on a Jedi’s salary?”

”Mara’s getting a couple cases at a pretty serious discount,” Luke confided, rinsing his glass and putting it in the cleaning unit. “Someone at the distillery owes her a favor.”

”That’s some favor.” Han cocked his head. “She seems like the type who knows how to collect ‘em, though.”

The Omega in Luke bristled. He immediately quelled the reaction, but not before Han caught it.

“Hey,” he said, lifting his hands, palms out. “You know I’ve got nothing but respect for Jade. The NRI might jump to tawdry assumptions, but that’s just because they lack imagination. Me,” he lowered his hands, pointing at his chest. “I’ve been around the system. Flesh is easy and cheap. You want to collect real favors, you have to get into the weird stuff.” Raising his eyebrows, he held his hands a short distance apart, palms parallel to one another. “Saw a guy trade a whole moon once for this ugly little statue — this big, looked like it oughta be a doorstop at a tacky cantina.”

Amused, Luke felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He clapped a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder as he passed back toward the sitting room.

He’d known, intellectually, that it would take a while for the NRI to warm up to Karrde and, by extension, Mara. The Intelligence community was skeptical of smugglers as a whole and less than thrilled at how deftly Karrde’s organization had shoe-horned its way into the respectable echelons of the New Republic government. The fact that they couldn’t find a single record of Mara’s existence prior to her work for Karrde only exacerbated their frustrations. He didn’t begrudge them their caution, really.

But after three heats spent in Mara’s bed, the Omega in him had unavoidably begun to think of her as his, and he couldn’t entirely suppress the instinctive resentment that flared when she was disrespected.

Their secret Force-healing and training sessions didn’t help the situation. Mara was intensely careful about her shielding, only ever letting him into one small section of her mind or body at a time, but the anxiety singing at the edges of his touch each time left him profoundly aware of the risk she was taking, entrusting him with even that much. There was something incredibly intimate about extending his own control over the Force into her body, knitting together the fine sheathing around ravaged nerves or unraveling knotted scar tissue and seeing her entire body soften as a long-borne pain slipped away. About the way she smiled when they finished, as if he could see a little more light behind her eyes, a little more spaciousness in her breath.

Then there were their “excursions” as Han called them. Mara had grown up on Coruscant and, much to his delight, Luke had discovered that she had a mischievous streak. When the mood struck, she would appear from nowhere with a glint in her eyes that made his heart rate kick up with the same bright anticipation he’d known as a youth when he raced his skyhopper toward the canyons to Thread the Needle or when sneaking round bases during the early days of the war with the Rogues, intent on pranking another squadron. Ditching whatever he was supposed to be doing, he’d follow her at all hours of day or night. It was through those stolen moments that she introduced him to all the intriguing places that existed beneath the surface —often literally — of Coruscant’s glittering cityscape. Private libraries. Greasy cantinas whose menus were as obscure as they were mouth-watering. Junk shops whose backroom shelves mysteriously stocked the most hard-to-find parts for anyone willing to ask no questions about their provenance. And, occasionally, secret tunnels and camoflaged peep holes through which they accessed yet-to-open museum exhibits or dress rehearsals of the most in-demand new performances.

In her determination to prove her independence from her former master and the life he’d shackled her into, Mara was steadily, and entirely accidentally, achieving the one goal she’d believed wholly out of reach: capturing Luke’s heart.

It’s fine, he told himself for the hundredth time, gathering his data pad and bidding Han goodnight. It wasn’t like they slept together outside of his heats, and Mara was genuinely the perfect Alpha. She would never claim him, would never try to bind him or prevent him from keeping his vows of independence and service to the new Jedi Order that he was building. As an Omega, it wasn’t like he could claim her, and her traumatic past meant that even at his weakest he would never ask her to claim him. If she ever found another Omega to bond with, the loss might kill him. Unless or until then, however, he intended to enjoy every moment he could manage with her.