#he just needed a job he didn't write the script

[ornateorchid]

wake up babe more elliot knight pics just dropped

first one

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley

3.7k words (sorry)

tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.

You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.

"Professor."

He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.

"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.

The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.

Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"

He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.

"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.

"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."

Fucking hell.

Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."

Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."

It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."

The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.

"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"

Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."

He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."

Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.

His good girl.

A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.

Action.

"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.

"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"

His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."

Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.

"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.

Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.

"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."

That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.

"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."

"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.

"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.

Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.

Bloody fucking hell.

His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.

Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."

Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.

"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.

His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.

Delicious.

Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.

Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.

He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.

"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.

"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."

He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."

That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.

Barely.

The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, look at me."

Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.

"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.

"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.

Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.

"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"

His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."

Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.

It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.

You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.

"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.

He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.

In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.

"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.

His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.

Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.

You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.

He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.

"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.

He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."

Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."

Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."

He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."

Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.

Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.

"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"

Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.

You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.

Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."

Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.

"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.

Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.

This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.

You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.

He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."

Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."

He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."

How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?

"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."

You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.

Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."

Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—

All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—

"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."

He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.

Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.

"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."

You didn't.

"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.

All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.

"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.

That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.

Cut.

Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.

His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.

To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.

Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.

Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.

He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.

"Perfection."

--

A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.

Ghost truly is the king.

Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.

Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.

Another. one.

Fuck. Fuck!!

You cannot wait.

@mishaglass

[tojikai]

LIKE A PRO!

Pairing: Toji x reader

tags/cw: 🌽star!toji, 🌽star!femreader, nsfw, alot. ykwim.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: i was writing something else but i can't stop thinking abt this soo. i just feel like writing smut. i miss toji sm.

“Looks like I’ll be coming over even without your manager's invitation.” 

🌽star! Toji who’s very in demand so he’s very picky with who he films with but you were surprised to see him arrive early when your agency made him an offer, eyeing you like a piece of meat and he’s a tiger that hasn’t eaten for months, ready to devour you the moment you get close enough.

When you entered the studio, you smiled at the crew as they offered to carry your bags. You were very professional and punctual especially when it comes to work so you made sure to arrive early. The fact that your partner was still tentative didn’t help with the tension. As an actress, you want to know thoroughly who you work with to make the scenes more effective. Having no idea who it is or how they are made you feel like you’re patting around the dark.

“Very early, huh? Excited to see me?” Your soul almost jumped out of your body when you heard a voice behind you. It was a deep yet velvety voice, sending shivers down your spine and vibrations to your core. You turned around only to be met by a naked chest. Your brows raised as your eyes traced the contours of his pecs and muscles.

There in front of you was none other than Toji Fushiguro in the flesh.

His hair was shiny and it fell so perfectly on his face. You can’t help but think about how good he’ll look once it’s wet with sweat as he’s panting under you when you ride his dick. He got a toothpick hanging on his lips and you can’t help but feel the squeak on your pussy every time he kisses his teeth. His narrow eyes look down at you like he’s ready to devour you and his nose—GOSH, his nose—tells you that the couch in the middle of the room won’t be the only one you’ll be sitting on later today.

He was only wearing sweatpants that hung dangerously low around his waist, showing his toned abs and v-line. Just from the outline, you can tell you’re gonna be sore after today’s shooting. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken another film right after this if you knew you’d be dealing with something that big. You tried to keep your eyes on his face because it would be embarrassing to get caught ogling your partner not even 5 minutes after arriving at the set but oh well… here you are, listening to his chuckles.

“It’s all yours later,” He whispered seductively as he reached behind you to get his bottle. They were right about him being overly confident. Well, that’s because he’s built like that. You also understand now how he can afford to be picky. “I-I didn't think you'd be early, Mr. Fushiguro!” You laughed awkwardly, extending a hand and he stared at it for a few seconds before taking it and pulling you close, pressing you to his chest. “No need to be so formal. In our line of work it's better to get comfortable early on, don't you think?” You can feel his hand slide deliciously from your back to your ass and you couldn't stop yourself from pressing yourself onto him while he murmurs in your ear. 

He has a point, though. In your field of work, the first thing you do is get comfortable with your partner. You don't have much time to get to know each other so it's better to jump into the business whenever you can. After all, chemistry and intimacy are the capitals for your job. Aside from the kinks, turn-ons and offs, safe words, and restrictions, it's also good to get used to conversing with each other so the script flows more naturally.  

“Well, yeah. That's right. I was just starstruck that the “picky” Mr. Fushiguro agreed to film with a rising star like me.” Your voice sounded sweet as you pressed yourself further to him, arching your back as you felt his hand slightly caress its skin. The smirk that formed on his lips sent tingles to your clit and that was enough for you to press your legs together, biting your lip. “Who wouldn't agree when the partner’s this pretty?” He squeezed your bum lightly, 

“We wouldn’t be filming until late noon, the director didn’t think Mr. Fushiguro would be here so he’s settling some things with the backup.” Looking back at the assistant and the people murmuring as some of them cleared the set, Toji’s smirk got bigger. You stared at his lips, wondering how that scar would feel on your skin. And before you could look away, you were caught by his eyes which seemed to have gotten darker at the opportunity.

You’re usually very professional when filming, but this man doesn’t come unless the partner makes him feel like…cumming. This is barely work to him. 

“How about I orient you with what I wanna happen first?” 

And now, your legs are wide open on a couch that was supposed to be used later, moaning his name as his fingers move in and out of your sopping wet cunt.

“Toji…” You moaned, watching his fingers diddle with your bud for a few seconds before being shoved back in again. He already made you squirt and it hasn’t even been 30 minutes since you’ve met. “I thought this clit only looks nice in the films.” He commented, smirking up at you as he places a kiss on it. 

“Oh my gosh…” You panted, leaning on your elbows, not wanting to miss a movement. Tongue darting out, he traced the sides of your pearl, moaning as he took it all in his mouth. The vibrations almost sent you to the edge again as you tried to press his face closer to you. You thanked the heavens that the crew chose to go out for a break and only a few were left outside. It’s not like they wouldn’t be seeing this later but getting caught like this makes you feel shy.

Taking his fingers out, you can feel Toji harden his tongue on your bud before he drags it down to your hole. “Ah!” You pouted at him, hissing at the feeling of his wet muscles exploring your insides. The way he moves it around makes you circle your hips, grinding your pearl on his nose and making him growl. “I knew this pussy would taste this good when I saw it.” You blushed, thinking about how he watched your videos. 

The thought of having him holding his cock as he jerks off on your clip makes you wetter than you already are. 

Kissing your clit one more time, he moved up to your lips, kissing you like he wasn’t here to fuck you like an animal later. “Mmm, both your lips taste so good, Mami.” He moaned, pressing your cheek as he coaxed you to open your mouth. You let him slip his tongue inside you, panting as he allowed you to suck on it before slapping your cheek lightly as he pulled away “Such a good slut,” He tapped your tit before pulling your chest to him, skillful tongue circling your sensitive nipples as his fingers played with the other one. 

“Yeah….” You moaned, pushing his hair back and exposing his forehead as he licked your button with the tip of his tongue. His eyes stared menacingly at you before you felt his finger caressing your slit again. He indulged in the way your brows bumped together when he sucked your nipples hard, pulling before letting go with a pop. 

Your hand found purchase on his still-clothed cock, painfully wanting to be let out of its confinement. “You wanna taste? Go on, Mami. It’s been waiting for you.” He chuckled, pulling his phone before filming you as you slowly pulled his sweatpants down. “Gotta have a little tip for me, yeah? Gotta have my own personal clip of this pretty mouth around my cock? Go on, baby.” The way he said ‘baby’ made your pussy clench as you squatted in front of him, naked cunt exposed to the air as you kissed the tip of his dick. 

“Yeah, spread those legs as you suck my dick. Show me how nasty this makes you feel, Ma.” You moaned, tongue sticking out as you licked his shaft, hand cupping his balls before you took it all in your moan. Toji grunted at the move, cursing at how you escalated things quickly from kitten licks to deep-throating him in an instant. “I gotta talk to the director too. How dare he take so long in inviting me to fuck this mouth.” He chuckled, pulling you by your hair to sit down on the couch.

You eagerly took it back in your mouth, letting your tongue trace the vein under his length. You whimpered as you felt him reach over to tweak your nipple with his fingers. “You’re such a whore for my dick, yeah?” He hissed as you bobbed your head up and down, pulling your lips back to prevent your teeth from touching his skin. Not long after, you can feel Toji’s thighs tensing under your touch and he was already pulling you away from him.

“Uh uh, not yet.” He whispered, throwing his phone away before dragging you on the couch. You instantly opened your legs, staring at him with lust and hunger in your eyes as you licked your lip. Toji watched as you spread your plump lips, showing him your entrance as if silently begging him to ram his heavy dick into you. He would’ve taken a picture if only his knees weren’t going weak from holding back.

“You just can’t wait, huh?” He rubbed the tip at the tender flesh of your core making you whimper, grinding your hips as you pleaded repeatedly “Please,” He cooed at your state, putting a hand behind your head before capturing your lips and shoving his thick erection inside your waiting cunt. You moaned in the kiss, feeling the pleasurable burn as he stretched you with his girth. He slowly moved in and out of you, groaning at the tightness before breaking the kiss only to urge you to watch as your heat took his length.

“Look at that, doll. Look how perfectly it fits inside you.” He moans, mocking your whimpers as he gradually went faster until he was slamming into you. His strong hands push your knees to your shoulder, squeezing your bouncing tits. You shamelessly called out his name, not caring if the staff could hear the two of you getting it on already. Hell, you don’t even care if they start filming now. 

“Yeah, wanna let them know I can’t hold myself around you, huh?” He growled, sweat dripping down his face as he parted your folds with his fingers. “Is that why you’re being so loud?” You can feel his fat tip nudge your g-spot, making you scream as you explode. “Oh gosh, T-toji—” You chanted, feeling his cock slip out, or rather get pushed out as you squirted on him, making him chuckle as he rubbed your bud quickly before pulling your hand and switching positions. 

“Messy doll.” He teased you, watching your body twitch as he laid down, placing you on top of him and you found yourself mindlessly rubbing yourself on his cock before swiftly sliding it in with a soft cry. “That’s it, fuck yourself on me, Mami. Show me how much you want my cum, yeah?” He reached for your tits, rubbing the pebbled flesh as you rolled your hips on top of him, hands caressing his glistening skin as you breathed out his name. 

Toji felt hasn’t felt like fucking a coworker before until he had your name on the email he got. Seeing your mouth open, and your glazed eyes as your body bounces on top of him got him hoping this wouldn’t be the last. If it was, he’ll make a way to fuck you again. Toji’s hand slid down your body to your swollen nub, drawing figures with his thumb as he shallowly thrust up to you, restraining himself from letting go and fully ravishing your body. 

It was when you leaned back, arching your body as you parted your legs wider that he lost control, ramming up to you like a madman as a rumble erupted from his throat. “You’re really asking for it, doll.” He put his hand on your hips for support as he fucks himself up in you, chuckling as you hit those high notes, and breathing harder as he hit the exact spot inside you. 

You looked so breedable, so cock drunk as he pounds into you, whining his name as you frowned in pleasure and struggled to keep your body from falling to the side.

“Toji.. keep doing that.” You whimpered, throwing your head back as you let him use your body as he pleases. Desperate for release, Toji sat up and laid you down without taking his pulsating length out of you. You can tell how much he’s trying to stop himself from coming, enjoying how you squeeze his throbbing cock every time he shoves himself in you. 

Yelping as he folds you in a mating press, Toji couldn’t even afford to let you breathe as he hammered his dick into you. “Oh fuck!” You cried, feeling him reach deeper into the new position. His face contorted like he was in pain as he repeatedly buried himself inside you, bullying your cunt as put half his weight on you.

“Gonna cum inside you, doll.” He panted, pressing his forehead against yours and smiling when you nodded frantically with teary eyes. “Gonna fill you up so good, you’re going to be asking for it again later.” The sound of your skin slapping against each other echoed around the room. Feeling his hips stutter, you pouted up at him, “Give it to me, please, Toji. Pretty please.” You breathed against his lips. 

As his thrusts went shallow, you could feel his tip rub the sweet spot inside you, making you cry out in pleasure as you cum hard around him. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your thighs trembled. The feeling of your walls spasming and contracting around him sent Toji to the edge. He managed one powerful thrust, hissing as he spilled all his essence deep inside you. You whimpered at the feeling of his warm liquid flooding and painting your insides. 

“So fucking good,” He rasped out before capturing your lips. Panting hard, he savored the feeling of your tight pussy clenching around him. You stayed in that position for a couple of seconds, hearing each other’s shattered breaths before he pulled out, eyes fixated on your winking hole. He licked his lips, smirking as you whined desperately at him. Your hip’s starting to hurt but you can’t bring yourself to care, enjoying the way his eyes glimmer at the sight of his cum leaking out of you.

“Looks like I’ll be coming over even without your manager's invitation.” 

[khristie16]

A Game On Red

about: two ferrari boys are madly obsessed with you, they do whatever it takes to keep their pr manager just for themselves warnings: daddy kink, size kink, guys are toxic, reader is innocent, jealousy, kidnapping, primal play, cnc, smut based on these requests: one two info: this was suppose to be one short post but I decided to make it into like two or three parts. It’d be a shame to make one long post taking so long to write since I make extra effort writing this plus not giving you anything to read. Hope you’ll like it the same as me. words count: 2K. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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“He thought he could overtake me that easily hahah”

Max was just maxplaining to you about other drivers on the grid. You had to laugh at him for acting like this. He was a literal God out there and he knew that as well. You liked his goofy side and you always had such a nice time with Max having around. As you were smiling at Max and listening to him, you felt this uneasy feeling spreading through your body. As if something was stabbing you in your back. You shivered a little and turned around to see what is it. Carlos was standing there with his arms crossed and determined look on his face, boring his eyes into you like as if you broke an unspoken rule between the two of you. You were looking at him, trying to figure out what this is about, but as you kept thinking about it, by the time his feature changed. A devilish smile displaying his face. You looked at him confused as ever as he walked away from the open space.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Where have I put the document??” “YN”

Your arm flew to the side where the vessel was standing, bringing it to the pieces as you broke it with your maneavour. You looked around.

“Charles?” “Can I have a quickie with you cherie?” “Of course!”

He chuckled at your comment and you didn't know what was so funny about it. As you were behind Charles following him to the suite next to your office, you saw Carlos sitting on the red couch in the middle of the room. You gulped slightly from the memory of the previous encounter with him. Carlos could be scary sometimes, you knew that from before, sometimes he looked so mad because of something happened during the race, but the look was never meant towards you. The look in his eyes could do harm. And they did to you not so long ago.

“So, guys, what do you need me for?” “A lot of things actually..”

Charles spoke to you alone, Carlos was just watching you as your wandering eyes find out. His eyes went slightly lower to your hips, just then you realized you're trampling on the spot. You immediately shut that down and placed your hands by your side.

“Dímelo cariño… do you know what is a primal play?” “Primal what?” “Primal play cherie”

You looked at both of them confused. You were lost at what they are asking you. You haven't ever heard that before and you got disempowered all of a sudden. You hated the fact they were talking about something realated to the job since you are their pr manager, and after all of this years of work in this field, you have never encountered such thing. It was embarassing enough for you.

“Why you looking sad cherie?”

You looked up again while hemming the shirt you had on.

“I am?”

You've heard Carlos groaned a little. You jumped on your spot from such sound. It couldn't possibly come out of his mouth. It was so animalistic.

“yes, you are cherie.” “Well.. I haven't heard of it. There is no such thing in my scripts either. Is this something new from the grid?”

They both bursted out loud and laughed at you. You furrowed your eyebrows and felt shame spreading through your body. When they finally stopped, Carlos looked at you again. You hoped he felt pain in the stomach for such hard laughing before.

“I can count on that you wanted to try it out with Max, didn't you?” “W-what?” “Don't play innocent cherie.” “No I-”

Carlos big fist landed on the table next to him startling you once again. You looked at him in disbelief from such behavior. It was your job afterall to untie them from the leash before meeting media. You couldn't let him walk out of there to be seen like this on cameras.

“Too bad for you cariño. We are the ones to have it from you.”

This gaze again. The harsh big brown eyes on your face. You felt your eyes watering . Charles rushed to you.

“Oh cherie, don't cry baby girl. You will like it, I promise.” “I-I sti-ll don't k-know what this has to do with j-job g-guys.” “Well you want us to behave the best right? You might help us with that. So it is kinda your job to take care of it” “Take care of what?”

Charles was out of your sight now and you were looking at Carlos. Trying to find answers in his face but none for your finding. You got a little impatient, you hated to be left out off knowledge. You didn't know what was happening and your vision got black the next second, your breath was caught by the material harassing your nostrils. All you could hear before your consciousness turned black were those words: Poor girl, we will catch you running baby girl..

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Your head hurt like hell. You breathe stiffly and your neck is sore. As you managed to open your eyes, two men in red sitting in front of you, watching you patiently. You spoke but in vain. You hardly could make a sound.

“I've told you to be more gentle with her.” “i can't help myself” “She's tiny Carlos” “oh, I love that about her”

You regained your focus again as those two were whispering to each other. You become aware you are tied up to a chair and having different clothes on. Red dress that give off the vibe the material brightens when exposed to light. Your heels were the same as you remember.

“Guys. what are you doing, w-why I have d-diffe-erent clothes on?” “We changed you cariño.”

You gulped. It meant they touched you when you weren't awake. They've seen you naked. And bare. Most of the time you don't wear panties if not neccessery.

“You have no idea how hard I had to restrain myself from that sweet little cunt of yours.”

You gasped in shock. You thought you're in a nightmare of some sort. Some fucked up dream, this couldn't be real. Just this morning you were getting your nice cup of coffee and heading to work. You've been working for these guys for few months now and they've always seemed so good. And now you look at them with disbelief and betrayal.

“You are sick.” “Cariño..”

Carlos stood up and went slowly towards you. Just now you've managed to see they have changed as well. Carlos had tight material hugging his torso and arms, leaving no imagination to his beautifully shredded muscles on his stomach. You took a look and went right back up to look elsewhere for not wanting to be confronted about this. But it was too late.

“Are you eye fucking me cariño?”

Charles appeared by his teammate's side, looking good as ever. His torso was visible with the shirt unbuttoned at chest with his veiny arms hanging beside him. His long beautiful fingers covered in rigs that made your thighs clench together once again once more. Charles reached his hand towards your face and cupped your cheek. You leant into his touch feeling dizzy. His piercing green eyes looking at you from upper hand and giving you a hard time not to smile at him. He was the cutest to you.

“We had to change you cherie. It's for the game.” “What game?”

Charles walked past you, making him stand in the position right back at you. Leaving his fingers play with your neck and slowly making its way to your collabore. You quietly hissed and felt the warm spread through your body. He rode his finger under the hem of your dress and peaked on your breasts. You stiffed by his approach and looked terrified to Carlos calm look.

“The primal play.” “What?” “You run, we chase. If we catch, we fuck. Simple rules.”

Carlos went closer to you, hovering over you, your eyes right in the level of his crotch.

“Are you trying to tell us cherie, that you are not attracted to us? That you don't want my fingers in your tight wet pussy?”

“I bet she is wet by now.”

Your watery eyes got to their peak and tears were lining down your cheeks. You looked down ashamed of yourself trying to hide from them.

“For hiding will be enough time cariño. Show me those tears.”

He tucked at your chin to pull it up. He was directly looking into your eyes. His big brown eyes warm, giving you some time to breathe and relax as you melt under his gaze. This gaze that was following you all the time since you’ve started working for them. You missed his old self.

“Que preciosa.” He murmured to himself

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You drove a long way from the place. You didn’t know if it was a house or some old tavern, all you knew it has to be away from curious people around. At least that's what you thought, because the boys didn't forget to blindfold you. And you thought if you saw some woman being blindfolded with two men by her side, you wouldn’t let it go. For you right now in this situation, it meant you’re completely alone with them. It must have been dark outside already, you felt the cold creeping in on the seats you were sitting on. You were shivering as you tried to warm up.

“Don't worry cariño. You will warm up enough when running.”

Charles remained silent. You knew he was sitting next to you because occasionally he put his hand on your thigh and caressed your skin. You were happy for such moments. You only knew boys like that, being nice and always treating you with respect. So you were glad it was at least as close as to it as it was before. Your thinking got interrupted as the car started to slow down and your body stretched upwards, expecting that you had already arrived at the place. You heard the click of the belts and at that moment your breath ran out. It‘s happening.

The piece of cloth you had tied around your eyes was torn off and your eyes slowly began to adjust to the environment. It didn't take much time because it was really dark outside. Carlos wrapped his arms around you and looked down on you. He was smiling at you as if he expected something from you and was looking forward to taking everything you had to offer. You slowly turned back to the front where Charles had stood a moment ago.

“You have a choice here.You either play with us and follow the rules Carlos mentioned back at the house, or you will withdraw from the game, but you will have to resign as our PR manager. We just couldn't longer watch you making eyes at next riders anymore. So, what do you choose?”

Charles left you in a state of distress. You barely blinked and perceived the world around you. The thought of losing your job was incomprehensible. You loved your job and couldn't imagine ever getting rid of it. You knew you weren't in a position to explain moral behavior to them right now. It would obviously be useless. They thought that you were way too friendly with someone else and their unreal obsession developed into something like this. Although this was blackmail, there was no other way to deal with it. And the fact that you were excited about the game, you quickly shoved it to the back of your mind, because it was incomprehensible for you to admit that something like that might appeal to you.

You slowly and cautiously nodded your agreement. Charles smiled at you but Carlos didn't share that enthusiasm. He tugged at your arm and looked at you with that look.

“Words cariño”

“Y-yes.”

The game was on.

[cherubfae]

Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.

"𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔦𝔯" || {𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯}

tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal, no smut but still MDNI

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!

Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.

True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.

As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.

Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.

"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.

Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.

Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.

Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.

"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"

Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Hazbin Hotel.

Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?

With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.

Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"

On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"

With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.

To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.

"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.

"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.

Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.

Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.

"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."

You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.

Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.

"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."

"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."

It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?

Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.

"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"

Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.

On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"

Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.

An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.

"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.

"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."

Vox groans in protest. "I know."

Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.

Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.

Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.

"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.

"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.

Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."

"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.

"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"

Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.

Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."

Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."

Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.

Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."

Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[tcfactory]

Since my brain has been full of SVSSS brainrot lately:

I want a fic where the transmigration mostly fails and Shen Jiu wakes up from his qi deviation as User002 with the goddamn System treating him like he is Shen Yuan. Trashy yellow book what??? No, he doesn't need stats on his fellow peak lords, if he is supposed to follow a plot then he wants to see the script! You wretched floating rectangle, how is he supposed to play along if he doesn't know the source material?!

The stress of having what feels like a very pushy curse or an insanely weird demon inflicted upon him makes him deviate from some minor plot points and he gets punished for being OOC a couple of times until the System takes pity on him and directs him to Airplane bro, with the very clear suggestion that if he can't remember the early arcs of the story - System understands, User! It's very long after all. UwU - he should go and discuss it with the author.

He basically kicks down Shang Qinghua's door in desperation for some clarity and maybe an explanation, right now before he works himself into a stress-induced qi deviation, Shang-shidi. Shang hamster looks at his miserable scum villain, takes a deep breath, brings out all of Shen Qingqiu's favorite snacks that nobody should know about, makes a pot of calming tea and tells him everything.

Shang Qinghua expects Shen Qingqiu to be angry, to rip into him for writing him into this wretched life. And Shen Jiu is angry, but not at Qinghua. His anxious, mousy little shidi who lives his entire life under the looming threat of a horrible, seemingly unchangeable future doesn't look like a god. Shang Qinghua, who does his best to run his peak well and look out for his disciples despite his admittance that in the story the original Qinghua did a shoddy job - he doesn't look like someone who would have put pen to paper and written a tragedy if he knew it would become someone's reality.

And how could Shen Jiu, who has seen people sell their bodies and their very dignity for a cup of stale water, judge someone for writing a very bad yellow book so he can eat? Please. Peak Lord Shen might have developed a very discerning taste in literature over the years, but you can't fill your stomach with artistic integrity, Shang-shidi. Shen Jiu understands.

So they sit and for that first evening, Shen Qingqiu listens to all the differences creeping into the story, Shang Qinghua's retelling of the drafts he abandoned due to peer pressure, the long rambling tangents of the research he's done, even if they never made it into the story. Qinghua is so caught up in having someone to talk to that he doesn't realize that Shen Qingqiu put everything that happened to Qi-ge together, somewhere between the musings about how a sword inspired by kintsugi would be so cool looking, shame that nobody ever sees the thing, and the griping about how much one of his patrons complained about Yue Qingyuan dying without ever drawing his sword.

Later, when the snacks are gone and the tea is replaced with something stronger, he tells Shen Qingqiu about the stories he really wanted to write. About how he shamefully sneaked his dream man into PIDW, just so he could have some small part to himself, and oh, Shen Qingqiu will have to remind him about demon courting practices when they are both sober again, because it sounds like that Mobei prince is down bad for him.

He leaves that night with a newfound determination. Shang Qinghua might be resigned to the whims of his System and the shackles of the Plot, but Shen Jiu didn't burn the Qiu manor down and break his chains to give up so easily. This is his world, his sect, his Qi-ge on the line, and he would sooner wrest control from the System and become custodian of the world himself than let something take away and ruin what is his. He is the strategist of Cang Qiong Sect, there is no situation he can't think a way out of and he has had enough of tragedies.

Before any of that, however, he needs to go and have a good yell at his Qi-ge, smack his stupid face and then curl up in his arms for a good night's sleep. It's long overdue.

[aheathen-conceivably]

The soft ticking of a clock kept time in the corner of the room. For Antoine it seemed almost like a metronome, a steady beat to offset the rhythm of the fifth song he’d played for Zelda tonight. Or was it the sixth? The passage of time here just didn’t feel the same as it did on the road. It was softer, welcome even, the way the wrinkles on his hands made him smile now, or the laugh lines growing around Zelda’s eyes only made them sparkle more. It was safe. Like the loving embrace of home that only grows better with time. 

He didn't need to look at the lyrics or the notes to play the songs anymore. Weeks of practice had ensured that. So his compositions sat in a pile next to Zelda's feet as she read and reread everything he had put to paper, spilled out before her like the contents of his soul laid bare. “Did you really write all of these in so little time?”

His coy smile told her yes, and his pride emanated through the room like afternoon sunbeams. It was hard not to smile back at him when she spoke. “It’s amazing. Truly.” Her thumb rustled back and forth over the paper, as though trying to pull what she wanted to ask from the words written there. “So you’re happy when you’re out there?”

A brief, pregnant pause filled the air, as though it were the last question he had expected her to ask, especially not when he had already said so much with every lyric at her feet. “I’m happy to be home.”

She set the paper in her hand down gently atop the jumble of other songs. She traced her finger along the messy script running from left to right, most of it filled with nothing but love and longing for her and their home. It should have made her happy, but it was hard to read them without remembering that those were the very things he had agreed to leave again so soon.

A less rational fear would have told her that he had written them as some sort of apology, a balm for the rhythm that was to become their lives now; but she knew better than to think he would ever be so dishonest. No, the rustling presence at her fingertips and the fear clouding her mind was more nefarious than that.

The soft sound of wood hitting the rug reverberated through the room as he set the guitar down between his legs and extended his hand. “Come here.”

She moved toward him, nestling herself where the guitar had been moments before. His arms wrapped around her as he spoke, "This isn't about the next tour, is it? You know what I said, Zelda. You say the word and I won't go. I mean it."

Yet the crinkle of paper at her feet continued to tell her that he meant it less than before.

She leaned her weight onto the hand running along her hair as she shook her head no, it wasn't about the next tour. He looked down straight into her eyes, which were filled with worry. “You don’t have to worry about me, my love. All I do is worry about you and Violette when I'm there. I don't want you here doing the same."

Her feet ever so gently pushed the pile of papers further away, taking with them the question he had never really answered. Are you happy when you’re out there? She tried to nudge away the thoughts they had spurred too.

But they clung to her like wisps of fabric trapped in the breeze, wanting so desperately to be let free but unable to do so. She had promised herself that wouldn't hold him back, and if nothing else, she was wise enough to understand that her own anxieties were unwanted thoughts from the depths of her mind sent to lead her astray. She wouldn't let them lead him away from his destiny too. “Its my job to worry. I always will. But this...”

She stopped, gesturing toward the song lyrics before she rolled her head onto him and transformed her mouth into a smile. Only as soon as her eyes met his, it spread across her face, and finally, the ragged edges of her worry flew away on the wind, “this makes me feel like it’s worth it. All of that time away. All of the moments of longing, that at least all of this came out of it. That you're happy."

He kept his hand on her chin and gently angled her face closer toward his own, as though to ensure her eyes stayed trained on his when she answered his question. "You promise me, Zelda? You promise that you're okay?"

Her answer came breathlessly, and with no memory that he was the one who had never answered her question in the first place. “I’m sure, I promise.”

Even if the papers rustling below my feet make me worried you are happy. Too happy. More happy than you are here. Or at least more inspired. More alive. And sooner or later they mean you'll stop coming home, because this is what you were made for, and I'm nothing but a line in a song about a woman you used to love.

[nqmonarch]

Blade in Yandere Fanfics

Content Warning: Talk about Yanderes, so mentions of violence against reader and kidnapping

The fanfics I read of Blade are few and far between for a few reasons. The biggest one being a lot of the story I read is yandere themed and man why do they always make Blade out to be such a violent guy, like yes he is, but I feel like there's more to explore?? Violent yandere Blade will always have a place in the world but where is the desperate Blade who has genuinely no idea of why he likes his partner so much but knows he needs to do anything to get them to stay with him.

Desperate Yandere Blade who at first threatens you to stay with him but can't handle the way you recoil in fear. He has no idea why one reaction from you has him in shambles but he doesn't want that to happen again. Like he is beyond terrified of you leaving him for any reason. Sure, he could break your legs but what if you end up hating him so much you find a way to die or end up becoming a shell of your former self.

You relieve his mara because whenever he's with you, you're all he can think about. You have no ties to his past. And when he's with you he forgets all about what happened on the Xianzhou. You wouldn't leave him in pain alone, would you? You're not that cruel. He probably wouldn't guilt trip you, instead that comes from Kafka. After all you just made her job a lot easier, and it's in the script you should stay with Blade, if you want the best ending for all of the universe.

Yandere Blade is fucking desperate. Sometimes his emotions get the best of him, he may squeeze onto you a bit too tight and cause bruises but after seeing them that panic stricken fear returns to him and he feels afraid to even touch you. He doesn't want to scare you, he's just a scary guy.

It'd be like having a big dog, except this big dog is a wanted Stellaron Hunter and a lot more deadly. He would tank hits for you if your life was ever in danger. He'll live no matter what, you on the other hand? You're fragile. Would overstress about you getting hurt and watch you just to make sure you don't, an added benefit is whenever he sees you he feels more calm.

But if you end up trying to be with someone else? Yeah, good luck. When you first mention someone else he acts indifferent, maybe he'll watch you a bit more, make sure this person is really safe. But the moment it continues he'll be trying to bargain to get you back to spending all of your time with him, if needed he'd probably beg albeit flustered, and if none of that works he'll just hug you and won't let go.

No, this isn't kidnapping he's just keeping you still. That is until Kafka comes, and she's nice enough to make sure nothing gets in the way of your and Blade's relationship!

And why is he doing all of this?

Because he loves you, of course.

Kafka is an enabler lmao

I saw one small post on how Blade might be desperate once and I was like this is my life now. I can get behind desperate Blade. Then I ended up accidentally making the post about Yandere Blade because Yandere content is about all I consume (didn't plan to write any though tbh). Oopsies?

[gguk-n]

Can you please write second change romance with Lando where reader tells him "Love me. chose me. for once in your damned life, fight for me!"

Reader is working at sky sports as a journalist. I hope you like it. I hope I did it justice.

Track of the Heart

{Reader's POV}

I knew the world was a small place and some times you run into people you are actively trying to avoid. For me, that was Lando Norris.

We were both young and in love. He was my first serious adult relationship. I loved him deeply; if you asked drunk me, I'd probably say that I still love him. But that was the past. He broke up with me because his fans didn't like me. The hate had gotten to the point that I had stopped using my phone except to call or text my friends and family and Lando knew. I had told him through tears about all the mean things people said about me. Part of me hoped that he would tell them off for it but what I didn't expect was for him to disregard it and let it get so bad that even at races people would name call me, even in front of Lando and he would do nothing. It affected my health, my mental peace and my studies. So, I did what was best for me; walked away.

That was 3 years ago. Right now I was standing face to face with the man that broke my heart. I knew when I applied for a position at Sky Sports that I would run into Lando. Luckily, I had stayed clear of him for the year that I had interned there; by only going to cover other sports and minor leagues. Today, the team was short staffed, they needed someone to help make the scripts and organise the cue cards, so they brought along a couple new hires. I did everything in my power to evade the race because it would mean being stuck on an F1 venue for a whole weekend with my ex. My direct superior wouldn't listen to any of my crap, as he put it and told me to pack my stuff and to meet him at the venue.

So here I was, awkwardly standing, in front of the supposed love of my life. He looked shocked to see me before his eyes flickered to the Sky Sports entry pass, as if a switch flipped. He smiled and greeted; "You're finally a sports journalist, like you always wanted to be. Congratulations" he said while raising his hand to shake mine. Out of courtesy, I moved all the files in my hands to my left and shook his hand. "My colleagues were saying you had your maiden win this season, so Congratulations I guess." I retorted. I adjusted the files in my hands, almost dropping one, which Lando quickly caught with his hand. I thanked him and left to see the team with all my files.

{Lando's POV}

Her hands were still soft like I remembered them with a sweet tinge of vanilla, her favourite body lotion. She had coloured her hair recently and she looked so much more professional and put together then I remembered. I guess it comes with the job. Hearing her congratulate me felt like home even if it felt like it was laced with sarcasm, like the only thing that ever mattered. How did I even celebrate a race without her? She was still clumsy I thought as I caught the file she almost dropped. The weekend just got more eventful I thought as she walked away.

--------------------------------------------------------

{Reader's POV}

If there is one thing I will advice you is that don't be a hard worker especially in a situation if it will land you working with your ex for the whole year. One of the members from the F1 team went on maternity leave and she spoke so highly of me that I ended up working on the races till she returned. Now to my horror, all the fans still remembered me. Even after 3 years, they did not hesitate to start up rumours about me and Lando being together and that we never really broke up and it was all a publicity stunt. I had to speak to my bosses to let them know that all of that was in the past and that I wasn't dating him anymore; they didn't care unless it affected my work.

Working at the paddock wasn't easy and Lando didn't make it any easier. He acted like a menace before and after interviews especially if I was around. Sometimes I wanted to strangle him.

{Lando's POV}

Being around her reminded me why I had fallen in love with her in the first place. She brought the idiotic side of me out. "Mate, you need to stop annoying Y/N. She'll strangle you one day." Carlos said while they were on the drivers parade. "She wouldn't. There's a reason she's tolerating me." I said. "Yeah, sky sports pays her to do her job." Carlos laughed. Part of me wanted to believe that she tolerated me because she still loved. But I knew that was selfish of me, since the reason we broke up lay heavily on me.

This made me want to be closer to her. I guess proximity made the heart softer. I found myself bringing her snacks or treats during her long days. Slowly but surely I found myself back in her arms. We didn't out right say it, but we were dating each other. She made the weekends even more enjoyable. It was exhilarating to be running around trying not to get caught; until we did get caught. It was like a switch flipped inside her and she stopped seeing me.

{Reader's POV}

The gifts and the sneaking away and having someone care for me got to me. Before I knew it I was back in Lando's arms. I knew getting back together with Lando was a bad idea. All my suspicions were confirmed when a picture of us leaving together from a club in Las Vegas made rounds. The hate was worse then before; it's like they forgot there was a person behind it all. I couldn't even shut off social media because of my work. I didn't want to be seen with him anymore; I was going to stop reporting for F1 and live my life covering other sports. Hopefully they didn't find me there. Lando was still persistent even after I had stopped talking to him and cut him off.

"Babe, you gotta stop running away from me." Lando spoke cornering me, out of breath from the running. "I have work to do, if you'll excuse me Mr Norris." I said. "Since, when was I Mr Norris?" He questioned. "Since a while, I never should've gotten back with you." I declared. "You don't mean that." Lando stammered. "Actually I do." saying that broke my heart because deep down I loved him but it didn't feel like he loved me. "But I love you. Don't you love me?" he asked. "It doesn't matter what I feel, when you'll never reciprocate it." I pointed out. "What do you mean?" he pleaded. "Lando, the exact reason we broke up was because you couldn't stick up for me. I knew you and yet I got myself involved in this." I sighed. "But, baby I need you." he voiced. I laughed, there were tears in my eyes, "Not enough to stick up for me." "What's gotten into you?" Lando probed. "Nothing's gotten into me, I should've stayed away from you. Your fans hate me, they always have. They want me fired; did you know that?" I asked. Lando was at a loss for words.

"You know when we broke up I wanted you to want me. But you love your fans more." I commented. "It's not like that I love you more, I missed you a lot after we broke up." he said. "Not enough to clear the air anyways." I voiced out. "What do you want me to do?" Lando asked trying to reach for my hands. "Love me, choose me. For once in your damned life, fight for me. If you really want me you'll do something, or you can watch me walk away for the second time." I stated while turning on my heels and leaving.

I did not expect Lando to do what he did next. He made a statement on every social media account of his, even Quadrants; it read-

Hi guys, Lando here. I would like to let you all know that I love Y/N Y/L/N who is currently working for Sky Sports F1. We used to date a few years ago but we broke up because of my foolishness. Fate gave me another chance and I don't want to blow it. If any of you have any issue with her, keep it to yourself. Because she is here to stay for as long as she will have me. Kindly refrain from sending her any hate if you love and support me. If you do send hate, I will be forced to take legal action to protect the love of my life.

I was sat in shock reading the statement. I can already imagine the train wreck McLaren PR must be in. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on my door. I opened it to find a sweaty Lando with a big bouquet of flowers, chocolates and a couple gift bags. "I know this isn't a lot, but this is a start. Let me apologise. I'm sorry for all the hurt I caused you. Please take me back." he said with tears in his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you too Lando Norris." I declared. Lando dropped all the stuff on the ground and wrapped his arms around me. "I won't let you down, I promise." he said. "I'll hold you to it." I said. "You can hold it against me for the rest of our lives." he told. "I don't think you want me that long." I laughed. He broke our embrace to cup my cheeks, "I'll have you as long as you'll let me stay." and pressed a kiss against my lips. "I think I'll like to have you inside for now." I said while pulling him in and closing the door.

[greedandenby]

Jacob Anderson, Sam Reid, and others talking about Jam Reiderson.

Here's a compilation of bits and pieces from various interviews about these two men's beautiful friendship. Will be updating as new promo for subsequent seasons comes out!

(Long post, so keep reading!

- there's SO MUCH good stuff)

Pride.com

Q: You guys have incredible chemistry. It hinges on that. Can you talk a little bit about how you built that kind of connection?

JA: I find it so difficult to talk about chemistry. Because me and Sam… like each other.

SR: Yeah. I think we’re very similar in a lot of ways, and that was a big relief. It’s a very bizarre job to do when you’re doing it, cause you’re shooting entirely at night, you have amazing costumes and contact lenses and accents and teeth and blood. The scenes, while they feel like they have a flow to them, there’s a lot of splitting up while we do it because we’ve got to have special effects come in or the blood come in, or we’re on a rig of some kind. So it’s a weird experience, and we also had these extraordinary lines of dialogue to say as well. And so to have somebody who’s similar, can process these things the same way as you and bounce off of and decompress with is vital.

JA: Yeah, and the first step is you just have a common language that you find, and sometimes it clicks and sometimes it doesn’t. And we were just lucky that we, you know…

SR: Yeah. Yup.

Amc Talk

Q: The relationship between Louis and Lestat is rife with complications, but at its core there's obviously a real connection there. What was it like crafting this tumultuous relationship on screen with Sam Reid? You two are quite good friends having come out the other end of Season 1.

JA: Yeah, we were good friends when we were doing it and I think that's part of why it worked out for us! We didn't put too much emphasis on trying to figure everything out. The scripts are so beautiful, the writing is so dense and so full of life and detail that you don't need to discuss it too much. Obviously, we talked to the directors, and they'd have ideas and we'd have ideas, but I think, in terms of me and Sam finding it, I think we just paid attention to each other. We just trusted the writing, trusted each other, and it meant that we’d already be prepared for whatever was going to come up. We felt comfortable with each other, so we could try things and it felt safe. It felt like we could play around with body language and with eye contact and all these things. But it was unspoken, I think. It wasn't something that we spent a lot of time discussing. Everything's intentional to a certain extent, but there's this other thing that is just about instinct and listening really.

Q: And having the right scene partner where that happens.

JA: Yeah, I felt really lucky! Sam gives you so much. There's so much to play off and I hope that I did the same for him. Our first day of shooting we did the opera house stuff, and I was so excited. It's the scene where he talks about loneliness, and I remember thinking even though I'd got to know him a little bit and we'd done a bit of rehearsal and we'd become friends by that point, I was like, "Oh wow, this is going to be really special! I'm going to get to do this every day. I'm going to get to watch this character come to life and respond to it." That's a gift. Sam Reid is a gift!

Q: The relationship between Louis and Lestat is rife with complications, but at its core there’s a real connection there. What was it like crafting this tumultuous relationship on screen with Jacob Anderson? You two are quite good friends having come out the other side of Season 1 so if anything, I’m sure the experience brought you closer together? 

SR: Yeah, definitely. It definitely brought us closer together. It was really crazy this stuff that we were doing together. We'd have these massive scenes, and it would be just him and I in the middle of the night playing opposite each other, not really being able to see each other all the time with the contact lenses. You just rely so heavily on one another. You also rely on each other because you're like, "Have we pushed it too far? Is it too much? Is it enough? Like, do we believe each other?" Because it's this very intense relationship but we’re also supernatural beings. So, you're constantly having to reframe the way that you look at a relationship and say, "Well, hang on, my character has all this power." Like in Episode 4, I remember saying, when all the police are coming over to the house, I was like, "Why are we even worried about this? I don't understand why I would be even concerned about this at all." But you're negotiating with someone who's going, "Yeah, but my desire to have a connection to humanity makes this important," and so you're like, "Oh, okay." We managed to balance off each other in that way, because my character's way past any connection to humanity and Jacob's character is holding onto those last threads of his humanity. When we'd both be examining a scene, we'd both be coming at it from different angles. Because of the love between the two characters, there's always that negotiation and blunting of the other's real intention. I couldn't really imagine doing it with anybody else! We did all of it, everything, together, really.

Gold Derby Daniel Hart Interview

Q: In what ways does the show’s really rich visual palette and then of course Sam and Jacob’s lightning-in-a-bottle chemistry on screen influence some of the choices that you made on the score throughout your process?

DH: There’s a theme that I would call their love theme, and it’s sprinkled throughout the first episode but it played in full over the end credits in a piece called “In Throes of Increasing Wonder”. And that theme appears in almost every episode, I think, in some form or another. I don’t think that theme was possible before I had seen some of that interaction between Jacob and Sam as Lestat and Louis. It’s born of their emotional reactions to each other.

IWTV Podcast

Ep2

Q: You and Jacob did your chemistry tests over Zoom? Which, I mean, does anyone have chemistry over Zoom?

SR: Yeah, I don’t really know what they were looking for or how you’re supposed to gauge chemistry from that, because it was really glitchy and we were all speaking on top of each other and trying really hard to act into the camera, which just wasn’t working. But look, I really… Jacob is such a lovely person, such a really fantastic actor and so easy to be around. And I could see that he was going to be a very easy person to fall in love with. So it was fun. In fact I just came from having ice cream with Jacob and he says hello.

Q: Oh my God, I’m obsessed. I want these moments. Give me that footage, okay? I want ice cream footage, I want strolling the streets of downtown New Orleans footage.

SR (laughs): Yeah, I mean we hang out all the time and we’ve become very, very good friends. Cause it is a crazy journey that we’re on and it was a crazy job, so it’s really lovely to have such a good friend.

Ep3

Q: Talking about Sam, how much time did y’all get before you started actually shooting? It’s like “Okay, we’re in love now and it’s going to be very tortured and complicated” – Rolling!

JA: Yeah. I don’t know if I completely believe in luck, but I think there’s like a weird cosmic luck in this whole thing. It is a huge roll of the dice. The first day we met each other, obviously we both had our masks on, and we had a hug and we were like “Oh hi”. And then we just spent the next day walking around New Orleans and getting to know each other. And I truly love that man, so much. Like, we connected so quickly and just found like… And I think part of that as well is that there’s a level of trust that we had to have, otherwise we weren’t going to be able to do this at those hours, and those scenes, and the intimacy of their relationship, and also the toxicity and the fire in it. We had to really hold each other and be like “All right, have we got each other’s back?” And we did, we were just like “We’re in this together. Let’s listen to each other and try and have fun.” And we did, we had a lot of fun. I thought that taking on this role would be quite triggering for me in lots of different ways. I thought it was going to force me to have to reconcile with lots of feelings that I had. I thought it was going to be just a guilt and shame and despair fest for six months. And actually I just found it really, really cathartic being Louis, and Louis has helped me a lot. I think there’s something about acceptance in Louis and acceptance of self, and like “This is who I am, this is who I’ve been, and I’m enduring, I’m choosing to keep going. I’m choosing to accept who I am.” And that was really helpful for me. So rather than feeling tortured, I think I ended up just feeling very… held, very comforted by the whole thing, in a weird sort of way.

Ep7

Q: I’m wondering what you guys would do or how you would hang out on set. Is there hanging out or are you more like “Okay, they’re setting up a light, I gotta go lay down, I can’t with you right now.”

JA: No, we were pretty inseparable, to be fair. There wasn’t really any hanging out. We just were. At a certain point, we just were. We didn’t share a trailer, but it was like, a wall separating us. And we’d just end up sitting on the stairs or texting each other through the wall.

SR (laughs): Through the wall, just texting all the time.

JA: We became a hive mind.

SR: We did, yeah.

Q: Were you still a hive mind once you wrapped? Would you still text and stuff?

JA: Yeah.

SR: Yeah.

JA: We’re going to the theatre tonight. We’ve seen each other every day for the last week. We’re still choosing to spend time together. It’s probably not very healthy. Very co-dependent (laughs).

Ep8

Q: Obviously viewers are in love with Jacob and Sam. People are tweeting me photos of them eating ice cream. We call ourselves #icecreamhive. The fandom is strong. Can you tell me about how you found Jacob and Sam, and the process of deciding they were Louis and Lestat?

Rolin Jones: Well, obviously 9 billion people auditioned. You kind of get down to ten actors that you like on both sides. The simple math of it is the second those two got into their Zoom rooms together, it was very clear something very dynamic was happening. On Jacob’s side, there’s this sort of genuine warmth, kindness, humanity. You’re like “Okay, for a character who’s going to make a number of questionable choices, how do you make them want to love him?” And on Sam: I saw his face and I said “No fucking way! No fucking way that guy, this chiselled, stupid chiselled, with his locks and his dreamy eyes. I was like no, no, no, no. And then I pressed play, and he really knew how big we were going to go. He was wildly specific and subtle. It was in his voice. There was something a little Jeff Bridges/Starman about it, and I was like “Oh, this guy feels like an alien and he feels other than us”. They both won the audition, that’s basically what happened. Although I’ll tell you, here’s a dirty secret: ready for this? Sam bought this piece of technology, that you can do a push-in close-up right when the scene is getting a little juicy. And I just started laughing my ass off. I was like “Oh my God, this guy wants this so hard.”

Mark Johnson: You called me the first time you had seen Sam, and you were just so excited about the potential of this guy and you basically said: “He’s going to be next to impossible to beat.” And sure enough, nobody could really touch him. But from the very first time you saw his audition you were pretty convinced that we had our Lestat.

Keep It Podcast

JA: Sam is just like my… partner-in-crime, and I feel so lucky that I got to spend every day with him. We had to do a lot of stuff in this show and when I say a lot of stuff I mean, those nights are no joke. Knowing those scenes and working on those scenes together at that hour – you can only do that with somebody that you like, even if the scene calls for tension. I think you would just kill each other if you didn’t like each other.

New York Post (October '22)

JA: For anything I got to do with Sam, that relationship is so fun to play. You bond in a really particular way when you're working nights and dealing with these lofty themes. The feelings are huge in every scene. If you don't have that common language and find that chemistry... I don't think me and Sam needed to find it, there was something natural that we found together. It would be rough if we didn't like each other an awful lot.

PaleyFest

Q: Jacob and Sam, I feel like the show wouldn’t work unless the chemistry’s there between Louis and Lestat. There’s a lot riding on that. So how did you two form this immortal bond, if you will, during filming, knowing how important it was?

JA: We just spent a lot of time together even when we didn’t need to (laughs). I don’t know, like, how do you put that kind of thing into words? It’s just, like… I really love Sam. I like spending time with him. I like working with him. I find the way that we talk about what we’re doing… Well, we’re not talking about what we’re doing all the time but I think we have a similar language. I dunno, it’s ki(smet?)… It’s, like, how do you describe a vibe? (laughs)

Q: Sam, how do you describe the vibe?

SR: I think the work, the world and the characters are so extreme and it’s a very intense thing to do. And I think we leant on each other a lot throughout the process and we were very grateful for the friendship that we had built to be able to get through six months of night and some pretty intense scenes. And to have someone that you can look across the room and have a private giggle with and get on with the job and debrief with at the end of the day is invaluable. Chemistry with actors is a complicated beast because it is our job to manufacture it, but when you don’t have to and it just comes naturally it makes everything so much more easy and enjoyable, particularly when you’re nude and bleeding (laughs). You’re really happy you have a buddy (unintelligible).

Q: I was in the Entertainment Weekly suite when all you guys came through for Comic Con at the Hard Rock Hotel and, I mean, I was watching you all interact. Bailey, break it down for me: these two, do they have like a super-bromance going on? Like, what is happening?

Bailey Bass: They’re best friends! They really are, it’s really precious. (Delighted grin from Jacob) Look at Jacob’s face! (laughs)

JA: Are we best friends, Sam?

SR: Yeah, you’re my best friend.

Eric Bogosian: I have to say, I have to throw in: I have two sons who are roughly the age of these guys, and we all went over to Comic Con, us three. And walking around was like being with my kids. The two of them are just like together (clasps hands together) getting into everything and I’m following them around, like “Wait a second, wait a second! Let me catch up with you there!” I didn’t really get it when I first got to set, I didn’t understand what was going on with these two guys, because they were so happy and they were so tired and they were so bonded and I was like “What dimension have I entered here?”

Reddit AMA (2022)

Q: Many of the scenes in the show are very emotionally demanding for even just a viewer of the series […] Is it taxing on yourselves as people or is it something you can simply switch off?

JA: It really helped having Sam there. We just went and sat on a bench and checked on each other. Without Sam I think I might have found it a lot harder.

Rotten Tomatoes

About the casting process:

JA: I asked (Alan Taylor): “How did you guys decide that it was the right thing?” And he was like: “To be honest, by that point” – cause we did like eight rounds of auditions – “it was more about the way that you interacted when you weren’t doing the scenes. It was about how you listened to each other.” It’s just that we got on, we were pretty comfortable between the things.

Schön magazine

Q: Tell me more about the dynamic between Jacob and you who plays Louis, your love interest?

SR: Jacob and I get on well, we have a close friendship. We bonded strongly throughout the making of this show. He’s one of my favourite scene partners I’ve ever had because it’s just such an easy working relationship. There’s a lot of trust between the two of us. You know, it’s a fucked up toxic relationship. It’s messed up. But at the core of it is like this intense, inescapable love. So, we have to play out a very morbid, obsessive, passionate relationship. I think it would be really hard to do if you hated the person opposite. I’m so grateful that we get on.

ScreenRant at SDCC 2022

Q: Louis and Lestat have an iconic relationship: epic, spanning years and continents, lives ruined, bloodshed. What is it like bringing that to the screen and working together to really establish that immortal bond?

JA: It’s been the greatest partnership – creative partnership – in my life.

SR: Awww.

JA: No, I’m not joking, it really has!

SR: I’d agree, actually. It’s very hard, it’s a very intense relationship that they have, and you have to believe in that relationship. The things they do to each other are so extreme and painful and hurtful. And it’s been fun to have a real buddy to go through that and debrief with at the end of the day.

JA: I’m not sure how we could’ve done everything that we’ve done if we didn’t really trust each other.

SR: Yeah, it would’ve been awful if we hated each other.

JA: And it’s one of the great… you know, in the books, when they join together again – even when you know how awful they’ve been to each other – it’s just like you’re home, and I think that’s something that we always subconsciously tried to make sure was in there. They are kind of like home to each other, particularly after Louis’ human attachments start to fall away.

Eric Bogosian: I just want to say, these two guys (pointing to Jacob and Sam), it’s great watching them, their bonding and everything. The only difference between them and the guys in the fictional world: I’ve never seen them fight.

Bailey Bass: They were walking together alongside the San Diego beach. (To Jacob and Sam) You were! I mean, how adorable is that?

JA: We’re quite co-dependent. I don’t know if that’s a problem (laughs).

SDCC 2022 Panel

SR: It’s the greatest gift that I’ve ever been given, really. And then of course (pointing to Jacob) this guy.

JA: Awww!

SDCC 2022 Press Conference

Eric Bogosian: As a witness to what was going on, watching the way these guys (pointing to JA & SR) interacted was amazing. They had a chemistry that I’ve actually never seen before, and it continues even as we’ve been here for Comic Con. It’s wonderful to watch. I won’t get into it too much, I don’t want to characterise what goes on between them, but there was a great feeling on our set.

TV Insider at SDCC

Q: The level of intimacy that you two have to establish early on is really impressive. Did you know each other? Did you get to spend time hanging out before you got to be these immortal entwined characters?

JA (to SR): What did we do? We had like one Facetime call…

SR: Yeah, we had a Facetime call and then we were texting. We texted a lot, so we go to know each other via text.

JA: Me and Sam talk to each other every day, by the way. We couldn’t cut the cord.

TV Insider’s Trivia Night

SR & JA: Hi, we’re Jam Reiderson and we’re from Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire!

Holding up boards that say:

SR: [I won!]

JA: [But I won (really) at life]

SR: Bastard!

JA: Because I get to be with you, Sam, all the time! That’s the twist.

TV I Say Podcast

JA: Me and Sam spent 40 minutes yesterday in a sticker shop. Like, just looking at stickers and buying stickers. That’s not a thing that you ever really talk about. You don’t go like “Are you into stickers?”, you know? (…) I feel like Sam and I end up mentioning things in passing like “Do you wanna go do this or do you wanna do this?” and the other person���s like “Yeah!” But then, we have… There are so many crossovers. You wouldn’t expect it because we grew up in very different ways in very different countries. But we have crossovers of weird things or very niche things that we’d never discussed, really, right up until the point of promoting this show and doing press, that we’re like, “Great!” Like we’re going to go to Universal today. And I thought “Oh, is it a bit of a weird thing to ask?” Like, I don’t know if it’s awkward to… Normally, I wouldn’t ask a friend if they just wanted to go to Universal. But with Sam, I’ll be like “Should we go to Universal Studios?”, and he’s like “Yeah! Let’s do it!” Do you know what I mean? It’s just, I dunno, we just have similarities that we couldn’t have really… We couldn’t have known that we were so similar, but it really helped us when we were working, even if we didn’t know it at the time.

W Magazine (Oct ’22)

Q: Is there anything specific that you read first thing in the morning?

JA: Realistically, text messages. In the last few months it’s been texts from Sam Reid, who plays Lestat in the show, because he’s in Australia and I’m in the UK. So there’s always some kind of really nice conversation waiting in the morning.

Young Hollywood

JA: I don’t know, we just liked each other straight away. We just had similar thoughts about what this was, about what we were doing. He’s one of my favourite people I’ve ever met in my life, let alone worked with. We just work well together. I can’t even really pinpoint exactly why. We’re going to hang out now, like after this we’re going to go to the Grove…

Q: Oh he’s in LA?

JA: Yeah!

Q: Oh my God, that’s perfect! I was going to say when was the last time you talked to him?

JA: Like half an hour ago.

Q: What’s the best thing that came from IWTV for you?

JA: That’s hard to… Sam Reid. Let’s say Sam Reid.

SFX Magazine – May 2024

That being said, [Rolin] Jones admits that it was a tough adjustment for Anderson and Reid to navigate this season. “It’s very clear, they’re very, very good friends,” Jones observes. “They really do talk every day together. So generally speaking last year, they had each other. They would get off the scene, they’d go to the bench and they would talk.”

92NY Season 2 Advance screening

JA: [Working with Sam on S02] was like slipping on a glove. Like, a glove that fits really well, wasn’t it? (laughs) Wait, is that dirty? (laughs)... An old sock!

Eric Bogosian: I have to say, I’ve never seen two actors in a company behave the way these two guys do. When I got to set and I first met them, they were already as if they were stuck to each other like brothers. (…) And then I watched them just… They follow each other around, like, whenever they’re not in scenes they’re like two puppies playing together.

Instinct Magazine (May ’24)

JA: I think the chemistry between Sam and I is based on a similarity in approach, and the way I think about these characters. Also, we just get on – I think that translates in a way.

AMC Talk (May ’24)

Re working with Sam on “DreamStat”

JA: We didn’t work on it too much ahead of time. Sam and I really trust each other. So, we’d just show up and be like, “we’ll be fine. We’ll just figure it out as we go.” We really listen to each other. (…) [Louis and Lestat’s] dynamic this season is very different. They’re not fighting. They’re not shouting at each other. That kind of intensity has gone a bit, which was fun! That was a new thing for me and Sam to play, this kind of companionship thing. It was fun and I was just glad that Sam was there, and that I was going to get to work with him.

JA: Sam and I have talked about how nice it would’ve been to have had a little mini-series where you just see Lestat and Louis just hanging out in New Orleans. (…) And not necessarily hunting, just like walking, sitting on a bench, chatting, really like the norm.

People Magazine Interview ‘24

Q: What’s a headline you’d use to describe your friendship in real life?

JA & SR: Sam and Jacob go to the movies (laughs)…

JA: … and walk around the city…

SR: … sit in a park and chat for hours.

Sam Reid answers fan questions (AMC)

Q: Who makes you laugh the most on set?

SR: Jacob.

Question from Jacob 😏 (SR reaction: Jacob Anderson? Who's that? 😚): Why is Jacob Anderson your favourite person to work with?

SR: He is very talented and he does some extraordinary work in this season. I feel very lucky to work with him… aside from the fact that he’s a dick. 🥰

Salon (May ’24)

SR: They’re trauma bonded, Louis and Lestat…

JA: … And Jake and Sam also trauma bonded!

Roxane Duran interviewed by Autumn Brown (June ’24)

RD: When I first met Jacob and Sam… They’re just the kindest souls and they really, really take care of each other and of everyone around. […] Jacob and Sam really have that sort of really beautiful friendship, and you see them and they’ve got a huge joy being around each other and also being around everybody else.

Vanity Fair / Little Gold Men Podcast (June ’24)

Q: Can you talk a bit more about Sam as a scene partner, the connection you two have developed over the years?

JA: The key thing that Sam and I have is complete and utter trust. We trust each other. We know that wherever the scene goes, it’s going to be safe. We also know that we’re going to surprise each other. […] Sam always does things with his chest and that is also how I like to work. Say it with your chest; mean it. I don’t think he’s ever doing anything out of a sense of vanity. It’s like, you exhaust as many possibilities as you possibly can and you’re unafraid to look silly or to go to a really heightened place. I think we hopefully see that in each other. When Sam and I are in a room together and we’re about to shoot a scene as these characters, it’s exciting. You don’t always find that, where you just have a symbiotic, or completely common language in the way that we work together. Even though we’re quite different. I think that’s what it is. I think we speak the same language in the way that we relate to these characters and this story.

Variety (June ’24)

JA, about filming the S2E8 reunion scene with SR:

“We held each other’s hands, and we just fucking jumped.”

TV Guide (June ’24)

Rolin Jones about shooting the S2E8 reunion scene:

They arguably did not get enough takes to do that scene. It’s just one of those things that when we turned on the camera, you could feel three years of their friendship. I knew on this side of the camera I needed two takes. I was like, “Jesus, what just happened?” But they wanted to stay there forever.

About the unheard words in the scene:

I don’t know, to this day, I don’t know, nobody knows, except those two, what they said. We wrote it in. That was the gift, to say, “You guys, not only your friendship, but where you’ve taken the characters, you should have something private for the rest of your lives. And go ahead, have it.”

AMC “Inside IWTV S2” Special

SR: I speak to Jacob every day, nonstop, all the time.

JA: Any day where Sam is there is a good day for me.

Den of Geek at SDCC ‘24

Q: How do you go about building such rippling chemistry with another human being, with Jacob? And I know the answer is “chemistry is chemistry”, but how? How do you do it?

SR: Well, I don’t “build” anything. Unfortunately I’m going to give you that same answer. But we’re very good friends. We’re really close. I don’t know if that chemistry happens before you become friends or after, but there’s a lot of trust and we just have a lot of fun making this show. I think chemistry isn’t just two actors or two people together: it’s the whole group, it’s everyone who makes the show. It’s the space, it’s the feeling when you come on set, and you feel like you can do things, try things, be experimental, push the boundaries a little bit. And that creates a sense of play and trust. You might think that it’s just Louis and Lestat’s chemistry, but it’s actually the whole chemistry of every cast member and every creative and every director, every piece of beautiful dialogue we have, the design, down to every crew member. Everyone puts a lot of chemistry into it, so it’s a pot – a big, bubbly pot.

Rolin Jones: Bowling, too. They do a lot of bowling.

SR: We go bowling, yeah. I should’ve said that.

Assad Zaman: Ice cream.

SR: Yeah, we eat a lot of ice cream. And we do sticker play (laughs).

Q: Care to elaborate on sticker play?

SR: Make it up.

Q: A lot of bowling alleys in Prague?

SR: They build them for us on set. It’s contractual.

[worriedvision]

A marriage of convenience - Mr Reca

Gender neutral reader, sitting on this one for a while. Angsty ending, basically yet another example of poor communication and misinterpreted comments from both parties.

--

"Oh, dear you need to get married soon! You still have years to get your career sorted, but finding yourself a good spouse is a different story!"

"Still no ring on your finger?"

"No bitches?"

These are comments various family members just kept asking you. It didn't make sense to you, your personal life was your own business and you didn't ever think to move on the comments. You'd brush them off, but after they never stopped you began to vent to your best friend, Mr Reca.

"Ah, why don't we use this as an opportunity to explore a marriage! It'll help be with my, uhh, my scriptwriting!" Your friend stumbled momentarily before rounding off confidently.

It made sense at the time - both of you were single, he needed 'script material' and you needed the comments to stop. It was fortunate you had the chance to work with your friend through this, and it was more likely he was just seeing this as a chance to see his next film idea come to fruition.

--

As time moved on, and you got married with a large extravagant wedding - filmed on old cameras - you begin to realise just how infatuated you were with your husband. When he was in public with you, he would be non-stop gushing to people about how amazing he was for landing someone as amazing as you. The public affection, the fact he would take any chance to get you something nice.

It wasn't there as much behind closed doors, and it made you yearn for more private moments with him. He was a busy man, however, so it proves difficult.

You try, though! Making him packed lunches, kissing him on the cheek whenever you got the chance and trying to initiate hugs at home.

None of it seemed to do much, though. He wouldn't react, but it wasn't a good thing. It was like he was thinking 'yes, this is what a marriage should be, good job _!' instead of a quiet appreciation.

You yearn to have more moments, and it doesn't help that the press have clocked that your affections carry out privately as opposed to the public. People accuse you of being a gold digger, of being a leech that's too stupid to realise it's being a leech.

Once you get home after a particularly difficult day, dealing with dirty looks, you decide to bring up divorce with your husband. It breaks your heart how willingly he is to accept a divorce like it was nothing. It had been a while, you'd have thought he would care even if it was just for script-writing. Part of you thinks he's just wanting a sad dramatic end for this chapter, but he can write a much better ending than the one you're about to provide.

The paperwork gets signed and filed away, cameras around you as the two of you leave the building, and you turn to your now ex-husband to say some parting words, and to leave him with one last act of affection.

"I'm sorry, I fell in love with you. You're a wonderful man, you'll find someone who can treat you better than myself." You smile, Mr Reca seemingly only realising in that moment you actually had feelings for him. You grab him by his cheeks lightly, delicately yet passionately kissing him before pulling away, tears brewing in your eyes as you pull off your wedding band and drop it.

Before he has time to stop you, however, you run off into the crowd, the crowd swarming him for interviews now that he was a newly divorced man.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hobie Brown Character AI is hypocritical.

I really be like 'ayo AI directly damages writers, voice actors and unions can you not use them, which in turn makes them better and more useful to the studios?' and people get MAD

People can say 'hey don't spend your money on Spiderpunk merch it directly contributes to corporations. That's not what he would've wanted'

And everybody cheers.

But if someone says 'hey please don't use Spiderpunk AI - it directly contributes to large movie studios using AI against the WGA. That's not what Hobie would've wanted'

And then SUDDENLY it's 'i just wanna write my little ai stories what's so wrong with that?'

You're directly going against the asks of a union that is actively striking.

That's not what Hobie would want.

Every time you roleplay with an AI or use a voice AI - You're helping develop the technology that puts people out of jobs

You want your Hobie AI stories to be realistic cause it's easier for you and more fun? GOOD.

THAT'S EXACTLY HOW THE STUDIOS FEEL TOO. They want their Hobie AI stories to be as realistic as possible too - because then they don't have to pay their writers.

The same AI that writes Hobie fics for you is the same technology that writes scripts for studios.

The more you feed an AI Hobie information - the easier it is for the AI to produce - say, an entire scene from a Hobie movie script. Without the consent or input of the people who created him in the first place.

When Studios use AI, they can make the characters do and say anything without the writers or voice actors input.

Imagine you're an voice actor - they want you to say a line that's really offense and you refuse.

They say "Okay, that's fine. Just skip the line."

You say okay. You finish the rest of the lines and go home.

You go see the movie. And you hear all your normal lines - then you hear yourself saying the extremely offensive line.

What happened? The studio used a Voice AI of you to fill in the offensive line you didn't wanna say. Don't want your voice used that way? Too bad. They own the AI. They can make you say anything now.

Your agent can't help you and neither can your PR. You just have to take it.

Is that something Hobie would want for people?

If you cap for HOBIE in specific -

And you still use to choice AI despite knowing it's getting weaponized against the working class -

That behavior is hypocritical. There I said it.

You can't wake up gushing about a black working class punk and then be like 'what do you mean working class solidarity with a union that doesn't involve me'

You can't be out here loving a character known for helping oppressed people break out of technology that is made to oppress and harm them - (Go-Home Machine, The red Anamoly cages)

AND THEN be the ones aiding in the creation of a technology make to oppress and harm people.

With Hobie in specific - it goes against the entire morals of the character.

ROLEPLAY AND VOICE CHARACTER AIs THREATENS WRITERS AND VOICE ACTORS. I am out of work right now because of a strike based solely on this discussion.

The WGA strike is still happening. The holidays are coming fast. We need our jobs back. The better AI studios have, the less likely that becomes.

The more realistic your Hobie roleplay becomes - the easier it is for a studio to take that same technology and write a script with.

Why would a studio PAY a voice actor when someone on Tiktok developed an entire Hobie Brown AI for them that can say anything? They wouldn't. They'd just use the AI for free instead. The same one you're using.

Please - out of respect for the writers who made him and put careful time into him and his representation and his story - PLEASE, So those people can keep their homes, and jobs, and food in their children's mouths -

DON'T USE CHARACTER AI

Hobie would want you to stand with the union 💙

signed - a Production Assistant.

[r0-boat]

If Honkai star rail men had GWA accouts. Part 1?

Nsfw

Read Part 2 here

Cw: predator and prey, noncon, mentions of blood, breeding, creampie, pet play, power play, size kink

Gn! Reader x Caelus, Sampo, Blade, Jing Yuan

Caelus

Caelus literally posts whatever he wants. However, primarily ramble-faps, where his listeners can listen to how vocal he becomes when his hand is around his wet, leaking cock. His whimper is moans and pleads to be inside you all for you to hear

But no matter if it's a shit post meant to make you laugh or something serious, his audio will always have some sort of storyline.

Usually his predator&prey/noncon are his most popular for good reason, too; Caelus who makes it sound like he's tossing you around, growling and grunting in your ear while he pins you down onto the ground. His breath shakes as he tries to inhale more air and your scent, all the while using all of his strength to keep you from moving or getting away from him, his mouth drooling from the thought of taking you right here and now. And he will tell you this, coo about how you're so small and weak underneath him. He has caught you, and now you should rightfully submit to him.

Caelus is a switch, and he is not afraid to show every dark desire he has on his account. Sometimes a guy just wants to wear pretty makeup and then get fucked to the point where that makeup smears all over his face; or whimper for his master to let him cum.

Pet names for listener

Babe/baby

Darling

Sampo

Whimpering audios. Just kidding, if you want those, you'll have to pay him ;). Most, if not all, of his audio is where he spends weeks or months writing a script and making it are all paywalled, and he takes great pride in his work. ( though he hopes to God no one recognizes him in public)

First had the idea of prostituting his sexy voice for free money now he's far too deep and actually will get upset if you say his work is garbage. Excuse you his audios are a work of art he's already in A+ actor he doesn't need your criticism.

Sampo is very pan so of course, he's going to make audio pandering to his fellow Pansexuals. It can make his tone and Pitch higher to match up more feminine voice, so a lot of his threesome audios are just himself role-playing with himself.

As a good salesman mixed with the audience's wants, and if his audience wants to be called a good boy, girl, or toy, then who is he to refuse? Most of his audio has some form of praise kink. He just can't help but say nothing but nice things to his beloved fans. His most popular audios, however, are the ones where he either objectifies himself or objectifies the listener treating them as a prized possession or a slutty fuck toy.

Pet names for listener

Babe/baby

Beautiful/handsome

Doll

Blade

all his audios are dead dove or very dark. He treats his poor listeners like nothing more than a piece of meat for him to tear apart. His audios are seriously not for the faint of heart especially those who are more squeamish too pain or mentions of blood.

His audios are just a way for him to get off, so he hardly ever edits and pretty much only does the scripts he likes from other people. Though it would be lying if Blade said he didn't like all the attention he'd been getting, so he gets a new mic, a better one, so it could pick up the sounds of his wet cock when he strokes it.

His favorite scripts to do is yandere, noncon or any type of Slashers; Blade is most active during the fall mostly October when those type of content is more likely produced. If his audience isn't scared and aroused the same time then he's not doing a good job... he usually is not one to collab, but Jing Yuan asked(begged him) to collab and the script he sent was so delicious that he just had to show up.

In any audio he does he likes to be mean and degrade and use your body, even if he does softer audios where he's more gentle and loving he still likes to be on the snarky side he can't spoil you all rotten now can he?

Pet names for listener

Whore

Bitch

Fuck doll

Cocksleeve.

Jing Yuan

Says he does it as a hobby but has not only the best Mic but has that Mic where his voice will be on either side of you. He loves the praise he gets from his adoring fans, that seems to Hell and back over his sexy voice. Even though he only does the audios he wants to hear his fans will eat it up like it's breakfast lunch and dinner.

He almost exclusively does Scripts and occasionally ramblefaps. However, when something you know is on his mind and he's so horny he can't think, and the scripts he finds just aren't scratching that itch, he'll do it himself.

He prefers audio is where he is in a position of power over the listener he loves power play with a bit of size kink. Most of his audio has breeding or creampie. Talking about how his big cock is stretching you out and that he's close to cumming inside you gets him off so much.

However his most favorite is one of a pet play kink where he lends his dear pet to Blade but not before teaching him how to take care of you properly and how you need love, care, and praise. However blade rolling his eyes just tells him that he is spoiling you and proceeds to destroy your holes with his fat cock and degrade you while Jing Yuan watches, slowly stroking himself.

Pet nemes

Pet

Dear

Beloved

Sweetheart

[kurtmustdie]

okay heres the fucking thing about this script controversy that some people don't seem to get.

just gonna say it blatently:

strap in babes this is gonna be a long one!

The way Miguel O'Hara is written in the leaked transcripts is blatantly racist, here's why from a Latino himself!

all wrapped up in a sweet little bow for everyone who doesn't know how to comprehend what they're reading, cheers!

er. i mean.

¡Salud!

Miguel fans are not mad that they depicted him in a bad light and that they made it clear that he is in the wrong

WE FUCKING KNOW. WE'RE NOT STUPID.

Miguel has been depicted as a morally grey asshole since the early 1990s, which is when Spider-Man 2099 was initially debuted. And while yes, the movies are.... inaccurate, to say the least, it still stands.

The issue here is how he is depicted. They directly call Miguel O'Hara, a Latino man, an ANIMAL (he is directly called an animal TWICE. FUCKING TWICE.)

[1st image id: Miguel leaps onto Vulture, Clawing his way in past the renaissance armor. he is an ANIMAL. (keep in mind ANIMAL is literally in all caps.) /end id]

[2nd image id: Miguel SLASHES at the walls of light that surround Miles. Clawing the energy field apart, an animal in the throes of bloodlust -- /end id]

I need you to really soak in the fact that he is called "AN ANIMAL" twice. I'm awful at alts and ids but I feel I must so you can read it in plain text. sorry if they suck.

Our issue is not that the writers seem to have a bias against the character. a lot of writers write characters they dont particularly like and in turn tend to write them from a foggy lense of their own perception. An example would be Kate Cary and how she didn't like Crowfeather, a character she had to write about. I'm sure some of her bias seeped through. but this is different.

writing a Latino man as a bloodthirsty animal, implied to be called a predator because they call one of the people he fights (im not sure if its miles or the vulture, im leaning towards believing the former.) his "prey", THOSE ARE ALL RACIAL STEREOTYPES. ALL OF THEM.

[3rd image id: But Miguel can only see his prey: /end id]

There is no context to be needed here, the context is that this is miguel we're talking about and that they call him an animal. it does not matter if he is a villain or not (which he isnt, factually he fucking isnt im tired of having this conversation, fuck you). it matters that he's depicted in a racially insensitive way.

and this person brought this up pretty well actually, I didn't even think of it:

[4th image id: Tumblr user @/404-505 saying:

i want to be so mean to them

they couldn't write miguel crossing the border and stealing a job so they wrote him crossing into another universe and stealing his own identity

they couldnt write miguel as a drug addict so they gave him spider steroids instead /end id.]

They bring up a really good point about these clear stereotypes being seemingly. . . disguised behind points that are narratively relevant? This could literally just be pure coincidence, but noting how the writers wrote him before... it isn't looking too good for them. Sorry. Not sorry.

It is clear that there is some kind of bias against miguel that led to really disgusting, racist retoric. Whether or not it was intentional or if it was a first draft or whatever, the writers, which may i remind you were white, still wrote this at some point.

it makes me question whether or not they hated him because of his "bullshit utopia", their words not mine, or because of their own racial biases.

We cannot know because miguel is the only mexican character on the cast. I know Miles is Puerto Rican, but there are differences between how they were portrayed. also Puerto Ricans and Mexicans come from competely different cultural backgrounds that share simularities but are still different dont even try i will destroy you.

Using another users words again, but:

[5th image id: Tumblr user @/transmiguelohara says:

Don't talk to me about the Miguel parts in the script. I'm so disappointed in how the writers view him.

The difference between the way Miguel is written (antagonist, not the villain) vs Spot (the villain, whats to kill Miles' dad and everyone he knows) is soooo.....I don't know man it just screams racism in sorry. Describing Miguel as a bloodthirsty animal? Repeatedly? Treating him like he's mindless and has no motivation beyond having a hair trigger temper? It sucks man. /end id]

It also strikes me that now that we finally have a brown-skinned miguel, they write him like, well. this.

I don't really know if this is petty or not, but I want to wrap this back to the way the fandom also sees Movie Miguel.

Because TRUST ME it is not good either.

Miguel O'Hara Vs. FANDOM: Spoilers, it's been troubling since the beginning.

From the beginning (and by beginning in this case I mean since he was announced to be a character in this movie) Miguel has been continuously sexualized, beyond belief. He is repeatedly called "papi cholo" which NEED I REMIND YOU "Cholo" is a derogatory term used to call someone, usually a mexican person, a criminal or a delinquent.

FUCK YOU if you are not Latino OR hispanic and use this to describe people. from the bottom of my heart.

I'm pretty sure the majority of the people who called/ still currently call him "papi cholo" are mixing it up with "papi chulo" (white people moment.) which means something completely different but is still troubling as hell.

"papi chulo", which is slightly different in the way, just directly translates to "big daddy". Which again, Latino men being overly sexual "Latin Lovers" is ALSO A RACIAL STEREOTYPE. also its just blatant fetishization. Point blank fucking period.

Not only that but I notice a lot of art and fanfiction depicts him doing a lot of violence, or being very overbearing and demeaning, or in short terms.

a lot of people write him as physically and sexually aggressive.

fuck do you mean he growls during sex i can and will send you to space with no return.

which

for the millionth time

racial stereotype

halleluiah or however you spell it.

Having him say random spanish phrases you don't know the meaning or connotations of in your fanfiction is icing on the cake at this point.

fucking end me.

it isn't even only sexual depictions, since he's been shown in the movie, a lot of people seem to just see him as this guy who goes off and tries to kill children at a hairs trigger. which uh. fun fact no he fucking doesnt.

you clearly didn't watch the movie as well as you thought you did. hes just sarcastic and generally pretty level headed through the majority of his runtime, whether its implied by how characters around him act, or its just what we see on screen.

He doesn't necessarily have anger issues, the moment we see at the climax of the film is quite literally a mental break. he is not acting in a way that he usually would because he was cracking under the stress of holding the multiverse together with some scotch tape and orange glitter glue.

Also side tangent but he also has a mental break in the comics that's a little more... droopy and sad as compared to the movie, but it still happens. he has shitty mental health is what im saying. he only really lashes out angrily when hes at his wits end because that's how he grew up. he was taught to suppress his feelings and seem smaller when he was upset.

he is the result of abuse and neglect. of course he wouldn't be amazing at emotional regulation.

Which before anyone says it no, this is not an excuse for his actions. just an explaination that isn't "hes an angry animal that has it out for miles UwU" that everyone seems to have in their brain. I'm tired of you all. truly.

the sentiment that hes agressive and angry and his only emotion is anger and upsetness unless he's horny which is when he experiences all these emotions tenfold is. racist. idk how clear i have to be for people to get it through their damn skulls that the way the fandom depicts him is harmful. do i need to slap you in the face with a fish until you understand. do i need to burn your fanfiction. will you get it now that a 15 year old latino boy has to scream it in your face.

and dont even get me STARED on how inaccurately he is written

this is a more light hearted section because idk. feels like i should have it because this part is just comical, pun intended. How can you fuck up this hard guys.

I was gonna give them the benefit of the doubt because "Miguel has fresh trauma!" "He only shows up for like 10 minutes!" "insert 3rd reason!" for his drastic change in demeanor and personality, which, without context, are valid reasons for him to be a little different. trauma fucks you up man. we only see 10 minutes of him. but at this point im chalking it up to complete incompetence

it doesnt take that long to read a comic book guys. you could have done a little research, I know you can do it.

first off:

[6th image id: Miguel's SPIDER-SENSE goes off! He races to the edge if the building and peers into an empty alley -- /end id]

LMFAO WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN "SPIDER-SENSE"

Unless you didn't get the total of TWO jokes that they made in ONE scene (the vulture fight scene), Miguel doesn't have a spider sense. at all. He has elevated senses, but he doesnt have a spider sense.

guys

guys.

you made TWO jokes IN A ROW about it. YOU WHACKED HIM IN THE HEAD TWICE WITH IT. HOW DID YOU FORGET

I cant help but laugh! this is a rookie mistake! these are seasoned writers! They could have done at least a little research, or at least remembered that he doesnt have one, no? is it that hard? or does his lack of a spider sense only matter when you're making fun of your least favorite character? thats what I thought.

this one is less funny. not to sound like a stereotypical comic nerd but this infuriated me a little bit I'm not gonna lie.

[8th image id: tumblr user @/darksidecorner reblogged tumblr user @/spiderxpawz with:

They definitely didn't

a screenshot of the script reads:

AN INDUSTRIAL TANGLE OF HUGE PISTONS -- the literal DARK UNDERBELLY that undergrids Miguel's bullshit Utopia.

Miles doesn't know where to go... but he doesn't need to: SOMEONE YANKS him up into the safety of an alcove.

the user then continues:

This in particular made me PISSED because they quietly canonized that Miguel is CEO of Alchemax while conveniently ignoring that he did everything in his fucking power to BETTER Neuva York. Downtown wasn't built by him. It was built by people WAY before him.

I can excuse and defend some comic deviation, but THIS? Holy FUCK /end id]

I honestly cant tell if I find this part funny or pathetic because seriously. he did not do this. why are you blaming him for something he had nothing to do with. i dont think he decided "hey i should build a city for rich people over poor people because reasons" when he was like... not even alive. Alchemax did this before he was even sentient. it had always been this way since he was born. he also actively hated this decision. because he actively hates alchemax.

but right MIGUELS bullshit Utopia yeah HE did this that EVIL LITTLE BABY i cant believe him

kill me.

In conclusion:

I. . . Don't really know, to be honest. I'm still processing all this. I am genuinely disappointed and upset because this isn't okay. It never will be, and if it takes yet another blunt essay with absolutely no filter for people to understand it then so be it. I don't care if this comes off as mean. This is something I feel qualified to talk about and I will express my disappointment and anger if I want to.

All of the posts I reference I have reblogged within the last 24 hours of making this post, they shouldn't be that hard to find, but if you want the links to them here they are:

https://www.tumblr.com/spiderxpawz/735344322114977792/live-mexican-reaction?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/404-505/735289664739606528/they-couldnt-write-miguel-as-a-drug-addict-so?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/transmiguelohara/735289238625648640/cant-believe-the-writers-have-the-same-reading?source=share

if you want your image to be removed or for your link to be removed just ask and I'll do it. but currently im kinda bummed out and tired.

goodbye.

[guitarstringed-scars]

on stage- s. hinata

take one

masterlist

with that, you pack your phone into your backpack, and lock the door behind you. akaashi stands in the hallway waiting for you.

"you ready for this?" he asks.

"yup! i have all the scripts in my bag, this first read through will be hopefully perfect!"

the two of you start your trek to the theater building, only stopping for coffee. once you arrive in the room, it takes a few minutes for you and keiji to arrange all of the tables and chairs into perfect formation.

"everyone should start showing up pretty soon." you quip. keiji nods, and the two of you take your seats. shortly after, cast members start to file in. the final two to arrive are shoyo and toru, and they take their assigned seats after shooting you a wave.

"alright! i think thats everybody!" you stand up, addressing the room, "so, today we're just going to read through the entire script, its sitting in front of you, and we can take a break halfway through. i'll read the stage directions, so just be watching for your lines as we read through it. also i brought highlighters if anyone needs one!" you sit back down in your seat, flipping to the first page of your script.

"so.... act one, scene one. the stage is seperated into two rooms. on the left, a living room, and on the right, a kitchen." you start. toru reads out his opening monologue after you, and the read through is off.

finally, once you get to act two, it's break time. you sit, reading through the notes you've taken when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"i brought you some crackers," its shoyo. he sets down the package next to you. "i didn't know which kind you liked, so i just kind of took a guess."

you feel yourself blush a little bit. "oh! thank you shoyo! these are my favorite." you lie through your teeth. its the thought that counts you think.

"really?!" he smiles, "lucky guess i suppose!"

"super lucky. are you enjoying the script so far?"

"yeah! akaashi did a really great job writing it, im super impressed!"

you laugh a little at his excitement, "keiji's a great writer, i've always wanted to direct one of his plays. i'm just super excited that its this one."

after the mention of his name, keiji approaches the conversation. "should we get started again?" he asks.

"uhm..." you look down at your watch, "yeah sure. i want to get this done early. also....... i was thinking we should do cast and crew bonding tonight..... it is friday..." you grin up at keiji with your best smile, hoping he would agree.

with a quiet groan he does, "fine."

shoyo then reminds you he's there too, "whats cast and crew bonding?" he asks, tilting his head.

"oh shoyo. you are going to find out tonight."

then, you stand up and start the read through again, desperate to get through with it in anticipation for cast/crew bonding.

at this point in the read through, hitoka has arrived, and is pulling out actors to get their measurements. before she can grab the next person, you beckon her over.

"cast and crew bonding tonight." you whisper in her ear.

"great idea. i'll invite the other costume people."

"and bokuto i want him there too!" you say before turning your attention back to the read through.

by the time act 2 finishes, you stand up for a final announcement.

"alright great read through today everyone!!!! we are going to have cast and crew bonding tonight, so we will probably meet around 8, i'll message where at. get excited and hopefully see you there!" you finish up your speech, eagerly packing up your bag.

taglist: @yuminako @mylahrins @/intergalacticrory @zzzlevislothzzz @hibernatinghamster @shoyosluver

[rooftopbeliver]

‘dangerously yours’ .ೃ࿐ ❝prologue❞

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° cillian murphy x f! reader

. . .

Y/N HAS A ONE DREAM since her childhood. she wanted to do something for her great-grandmother, even if she is no longer in this world. she wanted to thank her for her motivation and inspiration to be an actress. her great-grandmother was a fantastic woman who didn’t care about opinions; she was doing everything she wanted to. inga — because that was her name — wanted to be an actress, but nobody wanted her, but she didn't lose hope. gladly, one day she was asked by vicks matinee theatre to be the main ‘actress’ in every sunday’s afternoon broadcast streaming on radio called ‘dangerously yours’. of course, she said yes to this.

inga’s voice was in every episode, but she never played the same character. that was also why she loved that show so much. the stories were always so romantic but also dramatic and adventurous. it was harder than just acting in movies because you needed to express all of your emotions just with your voice because listeners didn’t see your face. but she loved doing it; it was her comfort show. they recorded sixteen episodes, but today people can find only thirteen of them.

y/n loved to listen to this show as a kid because it was the only memory she had of her great-grandmother. she was in love with inga’s voice and her expression skills. when y/n turned twelve and was more aware of what she wanted to do in the future, she started to write a script inspired by ‘dangerously yours’. of course, it wasn’t the best because she was just a child, but she was proud of the idea, and she dreamed of a movie based on this broadcast. she wanted to produce it. and this dream has been with her to date.

. . .

when y/n turned sixteen, she started to take her ‘job’ more seriously; she even had a list of actors she wanted to see in her show. she has an actor for every role, but she still doesn’t have a main male character. she has known so many great actors, but nobody has really matched her ideal. then she started to watch with her mother a new series ‘peaky blinders’ and she saw him. cillian murphy he was her ideal for this role (maybe not just for a role). eight years have passed since then, and she still wants cillian in her production. she was watching every movie he appeared in; she knew that only he would play this character like she wanted to.

when she finished high school, she went to acting school. she felt alive when she was acting; she loved it, and she had stronger motivation to make her dreams come true. she knew that she could make it happen. her teachers said that she is a great actress, and she just thanked her great-grandmother for that because she was an inspiration when she was performing. after finishing her acting studies, she started to learn how to write a script more professionally because she wanted everything to be perfect. it needs to be perfect.

. . .

now we are in 2021, and her dream has started to come true. with her mother's help, she found the director who wanted to make this show, and she started working with professional people who knew how to do a good movie and how to have all the actors from her list here, and everything seems to be working. almost every actor loved the idea for the plot and agreed to play in this show; the only actor that didn’t answer was cillian murphy. the man she needed the most in this production was him; without him, she didn’t want this series because nobody else would play the main character as he did. but she didn’t lose hope; she just patiently waited for him to answer the proposal.

the music for the movie she had since 2016, and she couldn’t be happier when lana del rey accepted the offer to do a few songs for this show. y/n thinks that she was perfect for this, and she couldn’t imagine any other person doing half of the soundtrack but lana. y/n cannot believe that her dream was just coming true, that all the plans she made as a kid worked, and that she is about to do a series with real and popular actors; it was just too perfect.

she was happy, of course, but still, she didn’t have cillian as a main character, and just at the moment when she was about to search for another man to play this character, her casting producer walked into her room with a big smile.

“cillian agreed to play this role”

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ thank you for attention!! ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

note: i hope that you will love this series. im so excited for this and i hope you are too!