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mdzsartreblogs · 2 years ago

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Recognizing AI Generated Images, Danmei Edition

Heyo, @unforth here! I run some danmei art blogs (@mdzsartreblogs, @tgcfartreblogs, @svsssartreblogs, @zhenhunartreblogs, @erhaartreblogs, @dmbjartreblogs, @tykartreblogs, and @cnovelartreblogs) which means I see a LOT of danmei art, and I go through the main fandom tags more-or-less every day.

Today, for the first time, I spotted someone posting AI-generated images (I refuse to call them AI "art" - and to be clear, that's correct of me, because at least in the US it literally LEGALLY isn't art) without any label indicating they were AI generated. I am not necessarily against the existence of AI-generated images (though really...considering all the legal issues and the risks of misuse, I'm basically against them); I think they potentially have uses in certain contexts (such as for making references) and I also think that regardless of our opinions, we're stuck with them, but they're also clearly not art and I don't reblog them to the art side blogs.

The images I spotted today had multiple "tells," but they were still accumulating notes, and I thought it might be a good moment to step back and point out some of the more obvious tells because my sense is that a LOT of people are against AI-generated images being treated as art, and that these people wouldn't want to support an AI-generator user who tried to foist off their work as actual artwork, but that people don't actually necessarily know how to IDENTIFY those works and therefore can inadvertently reblog works that they'd never support if they were correctly identified. (Similar to how the person who reposts and says "credit to the artist" is an asshole but they're not the same as someone who reposts without any credit at all and goes out of their way to make it look like they ARE the artist when they're not).

Toward that end, I've downloaded all the images I spotted on this person's account and I'm going to use them to highlight the things that led me to think they were AI art - they posted a total of 5 images to a few major danmei tags the last couple days, and several other images not to specific fandoms (I examined 8 images total). The first couple I was suspicious, but it wasn't til this morning that I spotted one so obvious that it couldn't be anything BUT AI art. I am NOT going to name the person who did this. The purpose of this post is purely educational. I have no interest whatsoever in bullying one rando. Please don't try to identify them; who they are is genuinely irrelevant, what matters is learning how to recognize AI art in general and not spreading it around, just like the goal of education about reposting is to help make sure that people who repost don't get notes on their theft, to help people recognize the signs so that the incentive to be dishonest about this stuff is removed.

But first: Why is treating AI-generated images as art bad?

I'm no expert and this won't be exhaustive, but I do think it's important to first discuss why this matters.

On the surface, it's PERHAPS harmless for someone to post AI-generated images provided that the image is clearly labeled as AI-generated. I say "perhaps" because in the end, as far as I'm aware, there isn't a single AI-generation engine that's built on legally-sourced artwork. Every AI (again, to the best of my knowledge) has been trained using copyrighted images usually without the permission of the artists. Indeed, this is the source of multiple current lawsuits. (and another)

But putting that aside (as if it can be put aside that AI image generators are literally unethically built), it's still problematic to support the images being treated as art. Artists spend thousands of hours learning their craft, honing it, sharing their creations, building their audiences. This is what they sell when they offer commissions, prints, etc. This can never be replicated by a computer, and to treat an AI-generated image as in any way equivalent is honestly rude, inappropriate, disgusting imo. This isn't "harmless"; supporting AI image creation engines is damaging to real people and their actual livelihoods. Like, the images might be beautiful, but they're not art. I'm honestly dreading someone managing to convince fandom that their AI-generated works are actual art, and then cashing in on commissions, prints, etc., because people can't be fussed to learn the difference. We really can't let this happen, guys. Fanartists are one of the most vibrant, important, prominent groups in all our fandoms, and we have to support them and do our part to protect them.

As if those two points aren't enough, there's already growing evidence that AI-generated works are being used to further propagandists. There are false images circulating of violence at protests, deep-fakes of various kinds that are helping the worst elements of society to push their horrid agendas. As long as that's a facet of AI-generated works, they'll always be dangerous.

I could go on, but really this isn't the main point of my post and I don't want to get bogged down. Other people have said more eloquently than I why AI-generated images are bad. Read those. (I tried to find a good one to link but sadly failed; if anyone knows a good post, feel free to send it and I'll add the link to the post).

Basically: I think a legally trained AI-image generator that had built-in clear watermarks could be a fun toy for people who want reference images or just to play with making pseudo-art. But...that's not what we have, and what we do have is built on theft and supports dystopia so, uh. Yeah fuck AI-generated images.

How to recognize AI-Generated Images Made in an Eastern Danmei Art Style

NOTE: I LEARNED ALL THE BASIC ON SPOTTING AI-GENERATED IMAGES FROM THIS POST. I'll own I still kinda had the wool over my eyes until I read that post - I knew AI stuff was out there but I hadn't really looked closely enough to have my eyes open for specific signs. Reading that entire post taught me a lot, and what I learned is the foundation of this post.

This post shouldn't be treated as a universal guide. I'm specifically looking at the tells on the kind of art that people in danmei fandoms often see coming from Weibo and other Chinese, Japanese, and Korean platforms, works made by real artists. For example, the work of Foxking (狐狸大王a), kokirapsd, and Changyang (who is an official artist for MDZS, TGCF, and other danmei works). This work shares a smooth use of color, an aim toward a certain flavor of realism, an ethereal quality to the lighting, and many other features. (Disclaimer: I am not an artist. Putting things in arty terms is really not my forte. Sorry.)

So, that's what these AI-generated images are emulating. And on the surface, they look good! Like...

...that's uncontestably a pretty picture (the white box is covering the "artist's" watermark.) And on a glance, it doesn't necessarily scream "AI generated"! But the devil is in the details, and the details are what this post is about. And that picture? Is definitely AI generated.

This post is based on 8 works I grabbed from a single person's account, all posted as their own work and watermarked as such. Some of the things that are giveaways only really show when looking at multiple pieces. I'm gonna start with those, and then I'll highlight some of the specifics I spotted that caused me to go from "suspicious" to "oh yeah no these are definitely not art."

Sign 1: all the images are the exact same size. I mean, to the pixel: 512 x 682 pixels (or 682 x 512, depending on landscape or portrait orientation). This makes zero sense. Why would an artist trim all their pieces to that size? It's not the ideal Tumblr display size (that's 500 x 750 pixels). If you check any actual artist's page and look at the full-size of several of their images, they'll all be different sizes as they trimmed, refined, and otherwise targeted around their original canvas size to get the results they wanted.

Sign 2: pixelated. At the shrunken size displayed on, say, a mobile Tumblr feed, the image looks fine, but even just opening the full size upload, the whole thing is pixelated. Now, this is probably the least useful sign; a lot of artists reduce the resolution/dpi/etc. on their uploaded works so that people don't steal them. But, taken in conjunction with everything else, it's definitely a sign.

Those are the two most obvious overall things - the things I didn't notice until I looked at all the uploads. The specifics are really what tells, though. Which leads to...

Sign 3: the overall work appears to have a very high degree of polish, as if it were made by an artist who really really knows what they're doing, but on inspection - sometimes even on really, REALLY cursory inspect - the details make zero sense and reflect the kinds of mistakes that a real artist would never make.

So, here's the image that I saw that "gave it away" to me, and caused me to re-examine the images that had first struck me as off but that I hadn't been able to immediately put my finger on the problem. I've circled some of the spots that are flagrant.

Do you see yet? Yes? Awesome, you're getting it. No? Okay, let's go point by point, with close ups.

Sign 4: HANDS. Hands are currently AI's biggest weakness, though they've been getting better quickly and honestly that's terrifying. But whatever AI generated this picture clearly doesn't get hands yet, because that hand is truly an eldritch horror. Look at this thing:

It has two palms. It has seven fingers. It's basically two hands overlaid over each other, except one of those hands only has four fingers and the other has three. Seeing this hand was how I went from "umm...maybe they're fake? Maybe they're not???" to "oh god why is ANYONE reblogging this when it's this obvious?" WATCH THE HANDS. (Go back up to that first one posted and look at the hand, you'll see. Or just look right below at this crop.) Here's some other hands:

Sign 5: Hair and shadows. Once I started inspecting these images, the shadows of the hair on the face was one of the things that was most consistently fucked up across all the uploaded pictures. Take a look:

There's shadows of tendrils on the forehead, but there's no corresponding hair that could possibly have made those shadows. Likewise there's a whole bunch of shadows on the cheeks. Where are those coming from? There's no possible source in the rest of the image. Here's some other hair with unrelated wonky shadows:

Sign 6: Decorative motifs that are really just meaningless squiggles. Like, artists, especially those who make fanart, put actual thought into what the small motifs are on their works. Like, in TGCF, an artist will often use a butterfly motif or a flower petal motif to reflect things about the characters. An AI, though, can only approximate a pattern and it can't imbue those with meanings. So you end up with this:

What is that? It's nothing, that's what. It's a bunch of squiggles. Here's some other meaningless squiggle motifs (and a more zoomed-in version of the one just above):

Sign 7: closely related to meaningless squiggle motifs is motifs that DO look like something, but aren't followed through in any way that makes sense. For example, an outer garment where the motifs on the left and the right shoulder/chest are completely different, or a piece of cloth that's supposed to be all one piece but that that has different patterns on different sections of it. Both of these happen in the example piece, see?

The first images on the top left is the left and right shoulder side by side. The right side has a scalloped edge; the left doesn't. Likewise, in the right top picture, you can see the two under-robe lapels; one has a gold decoration and the other doesn't. And then the third/bottom image shows three sections of the veil. One (on the left) has that kind of blue arcy decoration, which doesn't follow the folds of the cloth very well and looks weird and appears at one point to be OVER the hair instead of behind it. The second, on top of the bottom images, shows a similar motif, except now it's gold, and it looks more like a hair decoration than like part of the veil. The third is also part of the same veil but it has no decorations at all. Nothing about this makes any sense whatsoever. Why would any artist intentionally do it that way? Or, more specifically, why would any artist who has this apparent level of technical skill ever make a mistake like this?

They wouldn't.

Some more nonsensical patterns, bad mirrors, etc. (I often put left/right shoulders side by side so that it'd be clearer, sorry if it's weird):

Sign 8: bizarre architecture, weird furniture, etc. Most of the images I'm examining for this post have only partial backgrounds, so it's hard to really focus on this, but it's something that the post I linked (this one) talks about a lot. So, like, an artist will put actual thought into how their construction works, but an AI won't because an AI can't. There's no background in my main example image, but take a look at this from another of my images:

On a glance it's beautiful. On a few seconds actually staring it's just fucking bizarre. The part of the ceiling on the right appears to be domed maybe? But then there's a hard angle, then another. The windows on the right have lots of panes, but then the one on the middle-left is just a single panel, and the ones on the far left have a complete different pane model. Meanwhile, also on the left side at the middle, there's that dark gray...something...with an arch that mimics the background arches except it goes no where, connects to nothing, and has no apparent relationship to anything else going on architecturally. And, while the ceiling curves, the back wall is straight AND shows more arches in the background even though the ceiling looks to end. And yes, some of this is possible architecture, but taken as a whole, it's just gibberish. Why would anyone who paints THAT WELL paint a building to look like THAT? They wouldn't. It's nonsense. It's the art equivalent of word salad. When we look at a sentence and it's like "dog makes a rhythmical salad to betray on the frame time plot" it almost resembles something that might mean something but it's clearly nonsense. This background is that sentence, as art.

Sign 9: all kinds of little things that make zero sense. In the example image, I circled where a section of the hair goes BELOW the inner robe. That's not impossible but it just makes zero sense. As with many of these, it's the kind of thing that taken alone, I'd probably just think "well, that was A Choice," but combined with all the other weird things it stands out as another sign that something here is really, really off. Here's a collection of similar "wtf?" moments I spotted across the images I looked at (I'm worried I'm gonna hit the Tumblr image cap, hence throwing these all in one, lol.)

You have to remember that an actual artist will do things for a reason. And we, as viewers, are so used to viewing art with that in mind that we often fill in reasons even when there aren't. Like, in the image just about this, I said, "what the heck are these flowers growing on?" And honestly, I COULD come up with explanations. But that doesn't mean it actually makes sense, and there's no REASON for it whatsoever. The theoretical same flowers are, in a different shot, growing unsupported! So...what gives??? The answer is nothing gives. Because these pieces are nothing. The AI has no reason, it's just tossing in random aesthetic pieces together in a mishmash, and the person who generated them is just re-generating and refining until they get something that looks "close enough" to what they wanted. It never was supposed to make sense, so of course it doesn't.

In conclusion...

After years of effort, artists have gotten across to most of fandom that reposts are bad, and helped us learn strategies for helping us recognize reposts, and given us an idea of what to do when we find one.

Fandom is just at the beginning of this process as it applies to AI-generated images. There's a LOT of education that has to be done - about why AI-generated images are bad (the unethical training using copyrighted images without permission is, imo, critical to understanding this), and about how to spot them, and then finally about what to do when you DO find them.

With reposts, we know "tell original artist, DCMA takedowns, etc." That's not the same with these AI-images. There's no original owner. There's no owner at all - in the US, at least, they literally cannot be copyrighted. Which is why I'm not even worrying about "credit" on this post - there's nothing stolen, cause there's nothing made. So what should you do?

Nothing. The answer is, just as the creator has essentially done nothing, you should also do nothing. Don't engage. Don't reblog. Don't commission the creator or buy their art prints. If they do it persistently and it bothers you, block them. If you see one you really like, and decide to reblog it, fine, go for it, but mark it clearly - put in the ACTUAL COMMENTS (not just in the tags!) that it's AI art, and that you thought it was pretty anyway. But honestly, it'd be better to not engage, especially since as this grows it's inevitable that some actual artists are going to start getting accused of posting AI-generated images by over-zealous people. Everyone who gets a shadow wrong isn't posting AI-generated images. A lot of these details are insanely difficult to get correct, and lots of even very skilled, accomplished artists, if you go over their work with a magnifying glass you're going to find at least some of these things, some weirdnesses that make no sense, some shadows that are off, some fingers that are just ugh (really, getting hands wrong is so relatable. hands are the fucking worst). It's not about "this is bad art/not art because the hand is wrong," it's specifically about the ways that it's wrong, the way a computer randomly throws pieces together versus how actual people make actual mistakes. It's all of the little signs taken as a whole to say "no one who could produce a piece that, on the surface, looks this nice, could possibly make THIS MANY small 'mistakes.'"

The absolute best thing you can do if you see AI-generated images being treated as real art is just nothing. Support actual artists you love, and don't spread the fakes.

Thanks for your time, everyone. Good luck avoiding AI-generated pieces in the future, please signal boost this, and feel free to get in touch if you think I can help you with anything related to this.

#resources

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her-satanic-wiles · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 7 - Magical Fleshlight

Mountain x Reader

Fuck… why does this feel so real? It’s so… wet. Holy shit.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 6k.

Reading Time: 24 min.

Warnings: elements of crack!fic, masturbation, multiple orgasms, noncon, non-discussed sexual activity, public, PIV sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Mountain slumped onto the bed, sighing heavily as he bounced softly on the plush springs. The day had dragged on endlessly, each hour dragging him further into a storm of stress and fatigue. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the tight knots in his back that throbbed with every movement, and the cramping beginning to form in his legs, a testament to the physically demanding tasks he’d faced. All he wanted was to escape into the soothing embrace of sleep.

Curling up onto his side, he nestled into the cool sheets, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the roughness of his day. As he logged onto Instagram, the flickering glow of his phone illuminated the dim room, casting playful shadows against the walls. It was a moment of solace, a brief respite from the chaos of the outside world.

Then, your most recent picture appeared on his timeline, and a jolt of electricity surged through him. You were stunning, radiating a captivating allure that pulled him in like a moth to a flame. The memory of the dress you wore last night flickered in his mind—a form-fitting creation that hugged your curves perfectly, its delicate fabric accentuating every feature that drove him wild. He could almost see it bunched up around your waist, his imagination running riot as he pictured the scene.

His heart raced at the thought, and he cursed under his breath, shaking his head as he tried to dispel the imagery. No. He couldn’t think like that. Not now, not when he was exhausted and vulnerable. But the temptation lingered, clawing at the edges of his mind like an unquenchable fire. He longed to reach out, to hold you close, to forget the weight of the world for just a moment.

He swiped through your photos, each one more intoxicating than the last—your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. Each image only deepened his frustration and desire, intertwining with the stress of the day, creating a tangled web of emotions he found hard to unravel. The solitude of his room felt stifling, an echo of his longing that was now amplified by your presence on his screen.

Mountain’s thoughts drifted, his body still heavy with weariness yet somehow ignited by an unshakeable yearning. The contrast of his physical exhaustion and the vivid allure of you made his chest tighten. He wanted to rest, to forget his troubles, but he also craved something more—something electric, passionate, and intoxicating.

With a deep breath, he set his phone down, staring at the ceiling as he tried to clear his head. The images of you still danced in his mind, teasing him mercilessly. Perhaps a little distraction would help? A warm shower, a drink, or maybe… just maybe, a little bit of magic to soothe his aching body and restless thoughts. He could picture you there beside him, laughter filling the air, and a shiver of anticipation raced down his spine.

He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to scrub the image of you beneath him from his mind, but it was too late. The fantasy had taken root, blossoming into something far too vivid to ignore. His body was already responding, a heat rising in him that seemed to defy his efforts to suppress it.

With a frustrated sigh, he sat up, his heart pounding as he fought to regain control. The bed felt too soft, too inviting, and his thoughts were spiralling into tantalising possibilities. The way you had looked in that dress—the way it had clung to your body, accentuating your curves—sent a rush of heat coursing through him. He could almost feel your skin beneath his fingertips, the way your body would yield to his touch, inviting him in, urging him to explore.

Mountain clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms as if to ground himself. He was all too aware of the growing tension in his lower abdomen, a primal response that stirred within him, demanding attention. It was maddening. No, he thought firmly, pushing back against the wave of desire. He needed to focus on anything else—work, the tasks ahead, the mess he’d need to clean—but his mind was relentless, cycling back to you.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room as he tried to shake off the intrusive thoughts. Each step seemed to echo with the memory of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, and the intoxicating scent of your perfume. It wrapped around him like a fog, clouding his judgment and amplifying his longing.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself, the words barely making it past clenched teeth. But as he turned, his gaze fell upon the fleshlight sitting innocently on the bedside table—a recent acquisition, born of desperation and curiosity. The relic hummed softly, as if it sensed his turmoil, and suddenly, he felt a magnetic pull toward it.

Could it really help him escape the throbbing desire that gripped him so tightly? With a tentative hand, he reached for the enchanted device, the cool surface grounding him momentarily as he contemplated his options. It had been whispered among friends that this magical relic could bring fantasies to life, enabling a connection that was both intimate and otherworldly.

Magic? As if. That sounded like the plot of a shitty smutty novel. There was no magic in the real world.

He glanced back at his phone, at your radiant smile, and felt a surge of determination wash over him. Why not give it a try? Perhaps, just this once, he could indulge in a fantasy—a fleeting moment of pleasure that could distract him from the gnawing stress of the day.

With a deep breath, Mountain took a seat on the edge of the bed, the tension still simmering within him as he examined the magical fleshlight in his hands. If there was ever a time to explore the boundary between reality and fantasy, it was now. He was ready to surrender, if only for a little while.

He ran his finger over the fleshlight’s clitoris, the smooth surface cool against his heated skin. The mere touch sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a flicker of anticipation in his belly. The magical device seemed to hum with energy, almost as if it were alive, responding to his touch and urging him to let go of his inhibitions. As his imagination began to weave vivid images of you, he closed his eyes, allowing the fantasy to envelop him.

Meanwhile, you were sitting in the library, surrounded by towering shelves filled with dusty tomes and parchment scrolls. The warm, golden light from the lamps cast a comforting glow, but it did little to dispel the exhaustion that clung to you like a second skin. Traveling for the Ministry had worn you out, leaving a mountain of work to tackle. You felt as if you were drowning beneath the weight of it all, buried under reports and briefings that demanded your attention.

Determined to catch up, you hunched over your desk, your quill scratching furiously against the parchment. The words began to blur together as your mind wandered, drawn back to thoughts of Mountain. You couldn’t shake the image of him, powerful and stoic, but with an undeniable softness lurking beneath the surface. That intense gaze of his always made your heart race, igniting a warmth that spread through you.

It was maddening, really, how one thought of him could send your concentration spiraling. You shifted in your chair, the tension in your back protesting the long hours spent hunched over your work. A sigh escaped your lips as you glanced at the clock, realising how late it had grown. The library felt even quieter now, the stillness pressing in around you, amplifying your restlessness.

But that was when you felt it. A sudden, electrifying swipe over your clitoris, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You froze, your pen hovering above the notebook, heart racing as confusion and curiosity battled within you. What on earth was happening?

You glanced around the library, half-expecting to see someone teasing you, but the room remained empty, the silence thick with the weight of ancient knowledge. The sensation pulsed again, rhythmic and insistent, as if someone—something—was touching you beneath your clothes. Your breath caught in your throat, the combination of surprise and intrigue igniting a warmth deep within. You stood up and moved seats, thinking that was the problem, but when the swipe came a second time, you almost screamed. It felt so good, somehow?

With every pulse, the sensation felt more intense and quicker, drawing you deeper into an exhilarating haze. You clenched your thighs together, instinctively searching for relief as you fought to maintain your composure. The rhythmic touches seemed to dance along your most sensitive areas, teasing and inviting with each electric caress.

Your breath hitched as you pressed your legs together, seeking some form of control, but the warmth pooled low in your belly, a heated pressure that was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore. You bit your lip, trying to focus on the paper in front of you, but the words swam before your eyes, fading into the background as your entire being concentrated on the sensation that was almost overwhelming.

What if it was Mountain? The thought sent a shiver through you. You had shared so many lingering glances, those moments charged with unspoken desire. Your brain kept showing you images of him next to you, hands beneath your habit and flicking over your clit so expertly, you were getting closer and closer to the precipice by the second.

Another pulse shot through you, sharper and more insistent than before. You gasped, gripping the edge of the desk for support. Your mind raced, torn between the fantasy of Mountain orchestrating this and the reality of being in the library, surrounded by centuries of knowledge and solitude.

The teasing sensation flickered again, and you could feel it mirroring the rhythm of your heartbeat, tugging at your very core. You could hardly contain yourself; a soft moan escaped your lips, echoing against the high ceilings of the library. The sound startled you, and you quickly glanced around, but there was still no one in sight.

Swallowing hard, you weighed your options. You could leave the library, escape this unexpected spell, or you could embrace it, surrender to the sensations that were taking over your body. The tension in your back seemed to dissipate, replaced by a throbbing warmth that surged through you with every pulse.

You took a deep breath, heart pounding in anticipation. What would happen if you let yourself explore this strange new sensation? What if this was a glimpse into something deeper, something shared with Mountain that had yet to be spoken?

Finally, you settled back into your seat, heart racing as you surrendered to the unknown. With each wave of pleasure, you began to ride the rhythm, feeling the magic course through you. The lines of reality blurred as you imagined Mountain’s hands—strong yet gentle—working their magic on you. The fantasies you had buried deep within began to surface, filling your mind with images of him, of you, lost in a world of desire.

As you surrendered to the sensations, a part of you still wondered how long you could remain in this secret world, caught between the throes of pleasure and the reality of your surroundings. But for now, all that mattered was the intoxicating feeling of the unknown, and the powerful connection that pulsed between you and Mountain, drawing you ever closer.

The sensations grew stronger, more insistent, every pulse of pleasure pushing you closer to the edge. Your grip tightened on the edge of the desk, knuckles white as you fought to keep silent, your breath coming in shallow, shaky gasps. The magical teasing seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to drive you wild without mercy, each wave of pleasure more intense than the last. You could barely focus on anything but the pressure building inside you, hot and unbearable.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to stifle the moans threatening to escape your lips. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to walk in and find you like this, overwhelmed by invisible hands, pleasure coursing through you in the middle of the quiet library. But the thought of being caught only seemed to heighten the thrill, a dangerous mix of arousal and anticipation that made the heat within you coil tighter.

The rhythm became more relentless, the electric pulses caressing your clitoris and sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. You pressed your thighs together again, trying to ease the tension, but it only made the feeling more intense, more impossible to resist. Your body was trembling, your heart pounding in your chest, your breaths coming in quick, ragged bursts as the wave of ecstasy swelled higher and higher.

Your mind was a blur, filled with images of Mountain—his hands on you, his body pressed against yours. You could almost feel him there, his touch, his breath on your skin. The fantasy had completely taken over, and you no longer cared about anything but the release that was building inside you, stronger and stronger with each passing second.

And then, it hit.

A final pulse, stronger and more intense than before, surged through you, and suddenly, you were there, on the edge of oblivion. You gasped, your back arching as your entire body tensed, the pleasure overwhelming, almost too much to bear. The climax washed over you in powerful waves, each one more intense than the last, leaving you trembling, breathless, your mind utterly consumed by the moment.

Your hands clutched the desk, your thighs clamped together as the pleasure coursed through you, your heart pounding in your ears as you rode the waves of ecstasy. You couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped your lips, your body shaking as you finally surrendered to the release you’d been fighting.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Everything was still, your mind lost in the afterglow, your body limp and sated. The heat slowly began to ebb away, leaving a warm, languid feeling in its wake. You slumped in your chair, chest heaving, your skin flushed and your limbs heavy. The library was silent once again, save for the sound of your ragged breathing as you came down from the high.

You opened your eyes, still dazed, your body tingling with the remnants of pleasure. The magic had faded, leaving you alone once more. You glanced around, half-expecting someone to have noticed, but the library remained as quiet and still as ever. No one had witnessed your moment of ecstasy, and for that, you were grateful.

Mountain felt the fleshlight twitch in his hands, the silicone pulsing rhythmically under his touch. It was strange, almost unnerving, how lifelike it felt—warm and supple, as though it had a mind of its own. He reasoned it must have been designed that way, engineered to feel as close to the real thing as possible. After all, the material had to have some give; otherwise, it would be difficult to fuck.

But this… this felt different. Too real.

Curiosity burned within him, and without thinking, he removed his thumb from the fleshlight’s clit and slid a finger into the vaginal hole. He half-expected to feel nothing but cold silicone or mechanical resistance, but the moment his fingertip pressed inside, he froze.

“Fuck…” he muttered, his breath catching in his throat.

The interior was silky smooth, impossibly warm, and slick with wetness, as though it had already been perfectly lubricated just for him. His finger sank deeper, and he swore he felt the walls subtly pulse around him, hugging his digit with a grip that sent a jolt of arousal straight through his core. It felt as though he had slipped his finger inside a real pussy—alive, warm, and so damn wet.

It was too much.

The thought hit him like a lightning bolt, sending a rush of blood straight to his length, which was already half-hard, now straining against his trousers. He glanced down, feeling the growing pressure, but his mind couldn’t tear away from the fleshlight and its surreal sensations. His pulse quickened as he slowly curled his finger inside the toy, feeling the textured inner walls respond to his every movement, as if the toy were reacting, pulling him in.

“Holy shit…” he whispered under his breath, barely able to believe what he was experiencing.

The slickness inside only made his cock throb with more need, the pressure building rapidly in his groin. His mind wandered back to the vivid images of you that had plagued him all night. He imagined it wasn’t just his finger inside this magical device, but his cock, sinking deep into that same warmth, feeling your body move beneath him, wrapped around him. He could almost hear the sound of your breath hitching in pleasure, see the way your body would react to every thrust.

His arousal was becoming impossible to ignore, his length now fully hard, aching to be touched. The wetness coating his finger made him desperate to feel more, to know what it would be like to sink himself completely into the impossible magic of this fleshlight.

But something nagged at him in the back of his mind. Why did this feel so different? So personal? It wasn’t just a toy; it was something more, something… connected.

Mountain exhaled sharply, pulling his finger out and wiping it on his trousers as he debated whether to continue. His cock twitched in anticipation, and the need for release was undeniable. He had to know just how far this could go.

His hand drifted to the waistband of his trousers, the decision already made.

You had felt the initial intrusion, the unexpected presence inside you, no thicker than a finger. It wasn’t moving with any intent to please, merely exploring your most intimate space, as if testing the waters, feeling out your warmth. A breath caught in your throat, and you slumped over the desk, your hand flying to your mouth, desperate to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. Your body shivered in response, torn between confusion and the undeniable arousal that was building deep within you.

The slow, teasing movements left you trembling, and while it wasn’t enough to satisfy the aching need between your legs, the anticipation was maddening. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to create some friction, something to ease the growing heat. But the moment you began to settle into the sensation, it stopped. The presence withdrew, and you were left empty, unsatisfied, your slick, needy cunt clenching around nothing.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, muffled by the back of your hand. A part of you was disappointed, frustrated even, that it had left. Your body was throbbing, aching for more—more of whatever that was, more of what it had been building toward. Your pulse was racing, and the quiet library around you suddenly felt too confining, too stifling. You couldn’t stay here, not like this.

Your legs felt weak as you stood, the lingering heat between your thighs making every movement feel laboured. You glanced around the empty room, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as if someone might have seen your inner turmoil, but the library remained silent and still. The quiet was too much now, the weight of your arousal pressing down on you, urging you to seek relief. You needed more than just that teasing touch; you needed release. And you needed it now.

Quickly, you began packing up your things, your fingers fumbling as you tried to gather your quill and parchment. Your mind was already somewhere else, picturing what awaited you once you could find privacy. The thought of it—of taking care of yourself, of chasing the release that had been cruelly denied in the library—sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

With your belongings hastily stuffed into your bag, you headed toward the door, your breath uneven as you made your way out of the library. The cool air of the hallway did little to calm the fire raging inside you. You had to find somewhere—anywhere—you could be alone and finish what had been started.

Your legs moved quickly beneath you, instinct driving you toward the nearest private space, your heart pounding with anticipation as the memory of that teasing touch replayed in your mind.

You left the library in a hurry, taking a sharp left down the corridor toward your room, your mind laser-focused on finding relief. Each step was torture, your knees weak and trembling, barely able to support your body as the weight of your arousal pressed down on you. The cool air of the hallway did nothing to ease the growing heat between your thighs, and you quickened your pace, desperate to reach the privacy of your room.

But just as you rounded the corner, a new sensation hit you.

Dread pooled in your stomach as you felt your folds part, something heavy and hard sliding between them. You gasped, eyes widening in shock, feeling a thick pressure press against your clit. It wasn’t the slow, teasing touch from before—it was urgent, insistent, and so overwhelmingly real that you couldn’t hold back the shaky moan that escaped your lips. The sensation was distracting, too distracting, and in your attempt to keep moving, you stumbled.

Your legs gave out beneath you, and with a gasp, you fell to the ground, your belongings scattering across the wooden floor. Pens, paper and books slipped from your grasp, your bag tumbling open as you struggled to regain control of your body. The thick presence between your legs remained, rubbing insistently against your clit with every movement, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you as you lay there, heart racing and breath ragged.

Your hands shot down instinctively, as though to push whatever it was away, but there was nothing tangible, nothing you could grasp. It was as if some invisible force was teasing you, pressing into you with an unrelenting rhythm that made it impossible to think straight.

You tried to stand, pushing yourself up with trembling arms, but the pleasure was so intense that you collapsed again, your knees refusing to support your weight. Another shudder ran through you, your body betraying you as the rubbing against your clit continued, the sensation almost unbearable. You squeezed your thighs together, but it only seemed to make it worse, the pressure building with every second.

“Fuck…” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathless gasp. You had no control over your body anymore. The sensation between your legs had taken over, and all you could do was grip the floor beneath you, helpless against the mounting pleasure.

The hallway was empty, but you were still exposed, vulnerable. You needed to get up, needed to reach your room where you could finally give in to what your body craved. But as another pulse of pleasure shot through you, you weren’t sure you’d even make it.

A stroke of luck emerged, catching your eye in the midst of your frantic struggle—the door to a cleaning closet, left slightly ajar. Relief mixed with desperation as you quickly gathered your scattered belongings, your hands shaking as you scrambled to your feet. You couldn’t make it much further; your knees were barely holding you upright as it was, and the relentless pressure between your thighs was making it impossible to think straight.

Without a second thought, you rushed toward the open door, heart pounding in your chest. As soon as you stumbled inside, you slammed it shut behind you, pressing your back against the wood. There was no lock, but if you could just stay quiet—if you could hold out here for a few moments—you might make it through this without being caught. The small space was dimly lit, filled with shelves of cleaning supplies, and the air smelled faintly of soap and lavender.

You barely had time to catch your breath before it happened.

A sharp, overwhelming sensation took hold of you as you felt something push into you—deep, filling your already throbbing, aching hole. The intrusion was sudden, and you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth to muffle the cry of pleasure that threatened to burst out. It was thick, stretching you in a way that was both shocking and satisfying, as though whatever it was had been waiting for this moment, waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, and desperate.

It was definitely a cock - but it was fucking huge.

Mountain sank into the fleshlight, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as the tightness enveloped him. He was a big man in every sense of the word, and his length was no exception—thick, heavy, and aching for relief. As he pressed deeper, the silicone walls yielded, but only just enough, hugging him in a way that felt almost too real. The sensation was overwhelming, warm and snug, gripping him with the perfect balance of resistance and give, as though the toy had been made just for him.

His breath hitched as he sank further, the heat surrounding him sending shivers down his spine. Every inch of him was enveloped in that wet, warm tightness, and it felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His hips rolled instinctively, testing the limits of the toy’s grip, and the way it clung to him made his cock throb with need. It was almost maddening how good it felt—too good, in fact. The slickness inside, combined with the soft, textured ridges, made every movement feel as though he was buried deep inside something alive.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hands tightening around the base of the fleshlight as his hips moved again, slower this time, savouring the way it squeezed him with every thrust.

The heat, the wetness, the way it pulsed around him—it was almost too much to bear. He couldn’t help but picture you, the way your body would feel wrapped around him like this, clenching down on him, pulling him in. The thought of you, mixed with the intensity of the sensation, made his control slip. His pace quickened, driven by the growing pressure building in his groin, his need for release clawing at him.

Each thrust into the toy felt more urgent, the friction deliciously overwhelming. He could feel the tension building, his length throbbing inside the slick, tight tunnel. Every stroke was bringing him closer to the edge, the pleasure so intense it made his vision blur. The way the fleshlight clung to him was impossibly real, and the thought of sinking into your warmth instead made his pulse race even faster.

He was too far gone to stop now, completely lost in the sensation, the need for release overtaking him as his hips bucked into the toy with reckless abandon.

Your legs gave out entirely, and you collapsed against the shelves, your body trembling as the force inside you began to move. Slow, deliberate strokes, in and out, dragging along your sensitive walls and making you shudder with each thrust. You bit down on your hand, trying to stay quiet, but the sensation was so intense, so perfectly maddening, that small, helpless whimpers slipped past your lips despite your best efforts.

The sensation wasn’t just physical; it was connected. Every movement inside you felt purposeful, like whoever—or whatever—was controlling this was in sync with your body, knowing exactly how to make you fall apart. Your pussy clenched around it, soaking wet, the slickness only making the thrusts more fluid, more relentless.

Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, the rhythm of your body matching the relentless thrusts that were driving you closer and closer to the edge. Each stroke pushed deeper, dragging against your most sensitive spots, and the heat building inside you was becoming unbearable. Your mind was spinning, the world around you fading into a blur as the pressure inside you mounted, thick and heavy.

You could feel yourself trembling, your body taut with anticipation, the pleasure coiling tighter with every thrust. Your nails dug into your palms, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, to hold on just a little longer—but it was no use.

It felt so good.

Too good.

You sat up a little and spread your legs, pulling your panties off from beneath your habit and throwing them somewhere in the dark, your middle finger immediately moving to your swollen and sensitive clit. Rubbing furiously at it, you let out a loud gasp, the feeling of the cock fucking into you, now at a violent pace. You grasped onto the shelf behind you with your free hard, trying to find something to ground you as much as possible, but nothing was working. Something invisible was pounding relentlessly into your cunt, using your body for their own pleasure and you were so wound up tight - you liked it.

Your body was already betraying you, your pussy tightening around the force inside you as the tension built to a breaking point. It was hitting all the right spots, fucking into you like no one else had managed to before. You bit on your bottom lip trying to remain quiet, but at this point your moans and pants were coming out so loudly, you were sure passers by could hear you.

Mountain’s breath was ragged as he thrust into the fleshlight, his large hands gripping it tightly, the soft silicone giving way under his force but clinging to him in the most maddening way. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as the slickness inside seemed to pulse in time with his movements. Every stroke felt too real, too perfect—as if it were more than just a toy, something alive and responding to him.

His cock was fully buried now, his hips rolling slowly at first, but the tightness had him on edge, making it impossible to hold back. His groans grew louder, deep and rough, as he set a more urgent pace. The fleshlight gripped him harder, the wet warmth inside making every stroke smoother, more fluid, but also more intense. It felt better than it should have, the sensation almost too much for him to handle.

“Fuck…” he hissed under his breath, his length throbbing with need. Each thrust sent a pulse of pleasure through his body, his mind clouded with desire as he imagined you beneath him instead. The way you would look, your body writhing in pleasure as he buried himself inside you, the soft sounds of your moans filling the air. The thought made his cock twitch inside the toy, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the fantasy.

But then, something strange happened.

The fleshlight pulsed. It wasn’t just responding to his thrusts anymore—it was as if it had a life of its own, squeezing him, rippling around his length in a way that was too real, too connected. His eyes flew open, a gasp escaping him as he stilled for a moment, looking down at the toy in his hands.

“What the…?”

He felt it again, the sensation tightening, as if the fleshlight was reacting not to his body, but to something else entirely. The pulsing grew stronger, almost rhythmic, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through him so intense he nearly doubled over. He could feel the slick walls inside moving, as though mimicking the contractions of an actual body—your body.

Mountain’s heart raced, his mind spinning. There was no way this was just a toy anymore. He could feel it—feel you—somehow, in some way. It was impossible, but there was no denying the connection. The more he moved, the more the fleshlight reacted, tightening around him with each thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core.

His hips bucked involuntarily, the sensations overtaking him, his mind now filled with images of you. He imagined you trembling, the way your body would shake as he pushed into you, the look of desperation in your eyes as you tried to hold back your release. His pace became frantic, thrusting into the toy with abandon, the tight, wet warmth driving him to the edge.

He was so close. He could feel his orgasm building, his entire body tensing with the need for release. The pulsing around his cock grew more intense, as though it were pulling him deeper, milking him for everything he had.

“Fuck…” he groaned your name, unable to stop himself now. He was lost in the sensation, lost in the thought of you, the connection between you both tightening with every second.

You could feel the climax rushing toward you, unstoppable, consuming every part of you. And as the force inside you thrust again, harder this time, it finally sent you over the edge.

A wave of pure ecstasy crashed over you, the intensity of your orgasm ripping through you in shuddering waves. Your walls clenched down around the presence inside you, your body convulsing as pleasure coursed through you, lighting up every nerve. The release was overwhelming, and you bit down harder on your hand, stifling the moan that tore from your throat as your climax consumed you.

But the relentless pounding didn’t stop. Whoever was fucking you wasn’t done with you just yet.

Mountain felt you reach your peak, the pulsing sensation inside the fleshlight intensifying to a point that left him breathless. The way your body clenched around him, as if you were riding the wave of ecstasy, sent a jolt of raw pleasure straight to his core. He could almost hear your moans, soft and desperate, echoing in his mind as he envisioned you lost in your climax, your body trembling beneath him.

With every thrust, he was drawn closer to the edge, the need for release building within him like a tidal wave, crashing and surging. The connection felt electric, transcending the physical boundaries of your separate spaces, and it was almost overwhelming. As you shuddered in pleasure, he could feel the warmth radiating from the fleshlight, as if it were feeding off your climax, drawing him in.

“Fuck!” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. The fleshlight tightened around him, almost as if it was responding to your release, and the sensation drove him wild. He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, a primal urge that had him gasping for air.

As you soared through your orgasm, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He thrust deeper, faster, losing himself completely in the moment. The world around him faded away, the only thing that mattered was the relentless pleasure coursing through him, the sensation of the silicone hugging him so tightly that it felt almost like a second skin.

With one final, powerful thrust, he reached his own peak. A wave of ecstasy crashed over him, his body convulsing as he spilled himself into the fleshlight. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips as he rode out the intense waves of pleasure, feeling as if he were floating in a sea of bliss.

His hips stuttered as he felt the last tremors of his release, each pulse sending shockwaves of satisfaction through him. The connection, the overwhelming sensations—it was all too much, and he reveled in it, letting it consume him entirely.

Panting, he collapsed back against the bed, still reeling from the intensity of it all. The fleshlight lay discarded beside him, the warmth and slickness inside a reminder of the wild connection they had just shared. He could still feel the lingering echoes of your climax intertwining with his own, leaving him breathless and yearning for more.

What had just happened? It felt like more than just a fantasy—it felt like something deeper, something that blurred the lines of reality and desire. He found himself staring at the ceiling, a mix of confusion and exhilaration coursing through him. The next time he saw you, everything would change.

Prev./Next

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unforth · 3 months ago

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Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:

1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.

2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.

3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.

4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)

5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.

6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.

I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.

How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.

1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.

2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs

3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.

4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.

Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.

At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣

#unforth rambles

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arcanegifs · 15 days ago

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This is the last time I'm going to be annoying about this, I swear.

A few examples of that I, a gifmaker, personally love seeing under the tags:

Analysis of said scene, show, or character, especially the long ones going in depth that span like 1000 words

People saying how crisp the GIFs look and how nice the coloring is THANK YOU. ILY GUYS. That's always huge praise for me.

Reacting with how emotional you got with the scene. How painful and emotional or how touching a scene is.

People making funny jokes, memes, comments, etc.

Literally ppl horny posting LMAO. It's super funny to read and I love seeing all the unhinged comments.

Seeing how much you loved the show and its characters

Things I don't like seeing under the tags. And these are just two very specific things:

How much you hate the show, how much you think a scene is bad, how much you hate a character, the ship, the creators, etc. or how much you dont like this ship anymore, calling a ship horrible because ____ reasons. OKAY! I get it! But I don't want to see that. Make your own hate post on your own blog! You're free to have an opinion on how much you hate something. Just do it on your own blog.

Asking why I leave out certain scenes out, why I decided to gif this scene, or not gif more of these characters. Sometimes, I'm just exhausted. I can overlook things. You guys don't know how draining making gifs can get to me, especially the scenes that are really long. But I do it because I LOVE Arcane, the story, and the characters, and the particular scenes that I make gifs of. I have my own biases too. Of course I’m making them first. Please, just make them yourself instead of complaining under the tags of my edits. Yes, I can see them.

Don’t get me wrong, I wholeheartedly appreciate everyone who supports and follows the blog. I want to make a million more HQ gifs of this amazing show, but sometimes, the very rare negativity can still get overwhelming, to the point where it demotivates you.

Arcane is extremely special to me because it's such a fantastic show, and that alone motivates me in trying to create more GIFs. Honestly, if it was any other fandom or show? I would've probably left already. Arcane is THAT great.

I know the block button is there. I use it too, but sometimes, the amount of effort and time you exert to create FOR FREE just isn’t worth it. And that’s why gifmakers and creators stop making things for fandom. It’s not fun anymore. It’s not worth it.

Some people think that making my style of GIFs is easy. Then great! Since you think so, then do it yourself and help create for the fandom too! I wholeheartedly encourage you to do it!

TLDR: Don't be rude on people's fanwork, especially when they are created FOR FREE. If you don’t like their fanwork, you can make them yourself.

#personal tag #long post #ok i will shut up about this topic but i really really needed to get it out #this is the very last complaint post you’ll see about this fr just let me fully rant abt it just this once #to the people who listened to my grievances thank you too you guys know who you are #and if ur here thank u for reading this #ive pumped out what.... 20 gif sets in three days........ and posting a lot will defo get some irritating comments #i know i cant control them but sometimes u accidentally see some and it just affects you #theres a reason why my inbox comments and mentions are closed and sometimes its because some people can be fucking insufferable #janna give me strength in the next few weeks #and if u see me randomly disappear and stop creating then u know why #but for now my love for the show transcends all of this and im going to try my best to avoid seeing annoying comments on my edits #idk if other gifmakers get it but like..... yeah i hope i can have thicker skin #ive rested and recovered from being tired and demotivated but the whiplash you get at the heat of the moment is insane sometimes lol

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ghoastixx · 4 months ago

Note

Yandere!Hannibal and Yandere!Will Graham, who are obsessed with the survivor of a serial killer, who has resurfaced again. So the reader needs to go into some kind off protection and now stays at Hannibal‘s with Will visiting regularly and Hannibal comforting her?

Yandere!Hannibal & Will Graham x gn!reader

synopsis above

Notes: Okay okay okay... as someone who used to read A LOT of yandere fics, i'm flattered to be writing one for such a thirsty fandom. But, I must admit, this is my first time actually writing one. So bear with me please. Also, YAY!! A WILL GRAHAM REQUEST!!! (I'm a stereotypical will graham lover boy) I do love writing edgy insane will graham :3

Author notes: Mentions the "ghost face" killer... sorry y'all at the end of the day im not original and scream 1 holds a dear dear place in my heart. Will is sort of creepy in this. Reader is broken but trying to heal, will and hannibal ruin that. Reader sort of takes Margot Verger's place in a way? Reader is a bit shallow and emotional, sorry chat.

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The nightmare started two years ago. The ghostface murders happened every year or so; ever since that massacre in Woodsburrow when it all began. They popped up all over America. It wasn't a shock when a new copycat showed up in Maryland, Baltimore. A shame...sure. A shock? Not as much.

You weren't very worried. You lived a relatively boring life, a safe life. You were not final girl material. Well, that's what you had thought before someone in a ghostface mask stabbed you on the walk home from work.

You remember how exhausting the press was when you woke up alive, how nauseating the treatments were, how tedious the whole stay was. It was all boring and you were scared. Your face was all over newspapers, magazines, blogs, what if he came back to finish the job? The fear was too much, you fell into a deep pit of self pity and anxiety... One particular article though.. tattle crime. It pushed you over the edge.

People around you could sense the distress, you were referred to a psychiatrist upon your release. A Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

The first session had gone well, in your opinion. Of course, you hadn't been the most open of patients, but he was so patient with you, he was so understanding. You couldn't see how fond of you he actually was.

The first time you had walked into his office, he was amused. You had been the talk of the news, lately, and here you were now. Sitting in his office. You were interesting. A normal person, someone who had never really been bothered by much.. now utterly shattered. A beautiful vase put to waste, he would be the gentle hand to put you back together.

You met Will Graham almost a year later.

Your appointments were always right before Will Graham's. Of course, you didn't know that, but he did.

You had just finished up a session with Dr.Lecter, gently closing his door behind you, you were met with a shorter man looking intently at you. He had dark curls and his glasses were clinging to the edge of his nose. You stared back at him for a moment. He wasn't making direct eye contact, but he was looking.

"Excuse me...can I help you?" you murmured, a bit freaked out. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it.

"I'm sorry- are you Y/N L/N?" He asked, he had a nice accent that you couldn't place. You sighed, crossing your arms.

"Yes, what of it?" your annoyed tone made him look away from you.

"Nothing-I'm sorry- I just went over your case in my lecture this week,"

"Lecture?"

"Yes, I'm a professor."

"Oh.. what class, if I'm allowed to ask?" He smiled, shaking his head a bit,

"You can ask. A criminal analysis class." you nodded.

"That's very interesting Mister..."

"Will Graham."

You two began seeing each other a lot more while switching roles in Lecter's chair. Friendly smiles, waves, anxious nods.. and then Hannibal started to get into Will's head. His intentions turned to the computer. Researching about you. He reassured himself, he was just doing his job. Researching victims. Until he brought you up in a session.

"What seems to be on your mind Will?" Hannibal asked patiently.

"One of your patients." This caught his attention,

"Which one of my patients would this be?"

"Y/N L/N." Will leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs out. Hannibal straightened up.

"Y/N, I see." His voice was a bit firmer now. He had grown protective over you. Possessive. "what of them?"

So Will began talking about his newfound obsession with you. This pleased Hannibal just a bit, the idea that they both could have you.

So, with Hannibal's nonverbal permission, Will started to get more involved in your life as you both slowly started to succumb to Hannibal's manipulation.

Everything was going swimmingly. That was until you got a notification on your phone during work today.

"Ghostface killer resurfaces after two years!"

With trembling hands, you clock out and immediately go to your car. You sit in your locked car, shaking. As soon as you read the article, you turn off your phone, putting it in the console. You start driving.

You knock on the lavish door, your skin pale and your body shaking. You're so cold. You begin pounding on the door..faster.. why can't he just come out faster?

The door swings open, you almost hit the taller man in the chest. He was wearing a vest and a white button up shirt, dress pants. He had just gotten off work. His eyes held annoyance, but when he saw your rather fragile state, his face grew concerned. He ushers you inside, his firm arms around your shoulders, leaning your shaky form to a sofa. Sitting you down and making you explain to him what's wrong.

"He- he's back Hanni. He's gonna come back after me-" you manage to cry out, his hands softly going through your hair.

"My dear, you're okay.." His phone rings, which makes you jump. He glares at it before seeing it is Will. He answers it, a very frantic voice picks up.

"Hannibal- I can't get ahold of Y/N-"

"Will." he all but chided. "Our love is here, calm down."

"I'm coming over." he stated before hanging up. He sounded frustrated, which just scared you even more.

A few minutes later, a disgruntled Will walks in, immediately coming up to the sofa which housed you clinging to Hannibal for dear life.

"Y/N- I tried to call you- I was so worried." Once he saw your expression, he toned it down as he sat next to you. "Pup..it's alright, we're here."

Both men frowned when you shook your head. "No! He's back for me- he's gonna get me."

Hannibal responded with a 'tsk' sound, still playing with your hair. "My love, he will do no such thing." Will hummed in agreement, rubbing a hand over your back. "You'll stay here with Will and I, we'll keep you safe and sound."

Will was pleased when you caved into the demand, he honestly thought you would've denied it quicker. Both men dotted over you before pushing you to get some sleep. Sandwiching you in between them. Will waited til he could hear your soft snores before looking at Hannibal with a bit of a glare.

"I told you it wasn't a good idea." Hannibal looked at him with a false innocence.

"What wasn't a good idea, Will?"

"Poking the killer. Getting him to want to come back."

"It will all work out..we just had to..scare them into submission. You see? Hasn't it worked."

Will sighed a bit, "Yes..I still don't like it very much though.."

"Nothing will happen to either of you, Will. I wouldn't allow it."

Will did stop talking, not wanting to wake you. Besides, he knew Hannibal had a point. They did have you to themselves now.. and if everything went to plan.. you wouldn't be leaving.

#fanfic #fanfiction #doctor hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #will graham #murder husbands #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham nbc #will graham x reader #hannibal x reader #hannigram x reader

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justporo · 1 year ago

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Hi! Could I please get some headcanons or a drabble of Astarion x anemic!Tav and how things may differ when it comes to him feeding on them, how he'd take care of them if they needed it, etc? Would love to see what you come up with. Thank you for your time! 💜

Hello and thank you very much, Anon! Since I'm actually hit with the Bloodless debuff today myself... What else could I have written?

This is a very sweet idea to write something - which I took and then made it sarcastic... I hope you like it.

Also - idk why, but for this I pictured Tav as velnna's Staeve - you probably know who I'm talking about and if you don't you should very quickly go over there and find out, because I love Steven and you should really give this incredible incredible artist who has contributed so much to this fandom a lot of love. All the love. (I didn't wanna tag them because I didn't know if it was okay and didn't want to annoy them but go check out their blog!!)

Pairing: Astarion / Tav (You) Wordcount: 1,6k

Bloodless

The sun was burning in the sky. You felt sweat almost drip from your skin. Every step seemed to be harder than the last one. Your heart was fluttering although your pulse seemed flat. Damn this Mountain Pass.

You and the rest of the party had been hiking through the mountains for days. It was exhausting for everyone, but especially for you it seemed. Surely, the fact that you had offered Astarion your blood almost every other night (and that he was always very keen and graciously grateful to take it) had quite obviously to do with how much your stamina had dwindled.

But you knew offering up your blood was very much helpful. Not only to the vampire, but the party as a whole: Astarion had basically become a menace on the battlefield since he’d been able to feed properly. Also, you were stubborn – a bit of missing blood wouldn’t knock you out. Or would it?

You tripped on a loose stone and almost face-planted on the ground. Only in the last moment were you able to catch yourself and dampen the fall with your arms. You quickly got up again and hoped no one had noticed since you’d dropped to being the last in the group today.

But trying to raise yourself so quickly had been a mistake and you suddenly felt overly woozy, your vision blurring and you were immediately back on one knee.

And of course, it hadn’t gone unnoticed: Astarion had been in front of you and had seemingly been alarmed by the noise of your fall – twice.

“What is it, Tav, got too distracted looking at my back, hm?”, he taunted and came over to where you were doubled over – leaning on your arms too now because you felt so dizzy all of a sudden that you felt you had need of all of your four limbs on the ground to support you.

When the vampire realised you weren’t getting up and also didn’t respond to his quip in your usual witty manner, he quickly gave the others a shout to let them know not to go too far ahead. Then he came over to you. You were desperately trying to not pass out when you saw the hands of the pale elf through your blurred vision reaching for you.

“You do hear me, yes?”, Astarion whispered to you. You could only nod curtly. His hands hesitantly touched your shoulders.

“Alright, can you get up? There’s a big stone over there where you could sit down.” You shook your head which made you even dizzier.

“Oh hm”, Astarion seemed a little helpless on how to proceed with you. You felt him turn away.

“Don’t tell the others!”, you exclaimed breathlessly. The vampire whipped around: “But… why?�� “Just don’t please”, you whispered and carefully looked up at his face. Was that… actual worry?

“Please just… Help me sit on this rock, let me have some water… and rest and we’ll keep going in a few minutes”, you pleaded with him. Astarion didn’t look completely convinced but sighed in defeat after a few of your racing heartbeats.

“Alright – could you please not die for a moment while I go and talk to the others?”, he said in a sassy tone that couldn’t completely gloss over the worry in his voice.

You let your head fall down again and simply nodded. Astarion went off towards the rest of your companions.

Ever so slowly you felt a little bit better. Cautiously you knelt back onto your feet – at least not on all fours anymore! Shortly after you tried to carefully get up and move over to the rock Astarion had mentioned.

That was when the vampire returned. “Oh no no, you stay right where you are, you poor helpless creature that would have perished already had it not been for me.” He ran the last few feet over and grabbed one of your arms to slowly put it around his neck and help you get up and walk over to sit on the boulder. You wanted to say something witty at his taunt, but your mind was too blank.

“Also, we are actually taking a break – all of us, so don’t even try to keep on walking”, he scolded you as he placed you down.

“What did you tell the others?”, you asked simply as you placed your forearms on your thighs and just sat leaning forward like that for a little. “Tss, does it matter now? Something like I broke a nail of mine and needed a moment to mourn it or whatever”, Astarion replied annoyedly.

“Can’t believe they actually stopped for that”, you said slowly and chuckled with your head between your knees and threw up a look at your vampiric companion. “Yeah well, seems they care a lot about my wellbeing. And I take it they would about yours, too”, he gave back – again very sassily. You just chuckled but didn’t reply. You saw that he relaxed a little.

“Ah here. You should probably drink and eat a little”, the vampire said after a while of the two of you just sitting there. He offered you a water bottle and some berries from a pouch – both of which weren’t his for obvious reasons.

You narrowed your eyes at him: “Where did you get those?” “By the Gods, you are so reluctant to help, I should’ve left you in the dirt.” Astarion rolled his eyes at you. “The druid gave it to me – you’re not as inconspicuous as you might believe, oh mighty leader of our adventure troupe.” You had a desire to punch this cheeky elf but you knew you were in no condition to act on something like this, so you sighed and first took the water and then started to munch on some berries from the offered pouch.

Silence spread once more between the two of you. Before Astarion broke it again: “Listen, Tav, darling, I know this must be because you’re letting me drink your blood so often.” You immediately wanted to start protesting but the vampire hushed you, brows furrowed.

“No, for once, you’ll let me do the talking. Don’t think I’m blind – your form has been declining for quite some time now. We can’t go on like this. I mean, Halsin has also noticed already.” You stayed silent and kept popping berries in your mouth and silently thanked the druid for his kind gesture – even if you didn’t want the others to know of this weakness. You slowly started to feel better.

“As much as I enjoy our little late night… sessions. We should probably take a break – at least concerning these particular ones. And maybe later, keep longer breaks in between if you insist to keep throwing yourself at me to drink your blood”, Astarion continued and sighed theatrically.

He tried so hard to be sarcastic about the whole thing, but you noticed that he was actually worried, judging by the guilty glint in his red eyes. And maybe it was that the blood loss was affecting your brain too much but you stared at him and just dryly said: “You know, you could just admit that you care about me, Astarion.”

The vampire huffed in surprise, then he sneered with a click of his tongue: “Bah, of course I do, you seem to be the only one to get this group of clowns to work together after all. It’s not like I care for you much as a person. As a blood bag maybe, but other than that…”

You pursed your lips and let him ramble, digging his own verbal grave by trying to talk himself out of it.

You didn’t even reply afterwards, just let him steep in the own awkwardness he created.

You kept looking at him – even offered him a berry, he scrunched his nose at – then shrugged and ate it yourself.

You slowly opened your water bottle…

“Okay, maybe a little. Tiny bit. Because you’re the only one in the group who seems to have a real sense of humour – at least when you’re not lying in the dirt being a dried out husk”, Astarion exclaimed.

You grinned at him wolfishly and shook the last of the berries from the small bag into your mouth ignoring his insult. “Now, wasn’t even that hard, was it? I really like you to, Astarion”, you said and then slowly stood up – careful not to immediately make a fool of yourself again.

“I liked you better when you were staring at the dirt up close”, the vampire replied and jumped up while crossing his arms over his chest, then sauntered away.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself”, you kept teasing and slowly went after the brooding vampire.

You met up with the rest of the camp then went on your way for the rest of the day. The others were already so used to the two of you missing from the camp at the same time (mostly during nighttime, of course) that they didn’t even look up when the two of you came back.

Later when you all had settled down for the night you saw that Astarion went over to Halsin and talked to him softly. They both threw you looks in between which made you uncomfortable because you certainly could imagine what the topic was. Before Astarion had also made sure you’d gotten the first serving of tonight’s dinner (and also seconds).

Even later when the others were already at rest the vampire confessed, he’d been asking the druid about how he could go about drinking your blood without putting too much of a strain on you. Again, you noticed that he seemed not only concerned about his blood rations when he explained that to you.

The next days you also noticed that Astarion had started carrying some water and the bag from Halsin containing the berries.

And you thought to yourself that – for a blood bag – Astarion seemed to put an awful lot of thought and action into making sure you were okay.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #halsin #drabble #one shot

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chaos-in-deepspace · 5 months ago

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L&DS Zayne: Keep Quiet | 18+

Once again this was due to my homie who also loves to dom Zayne. They sent me this fanfic from another fandom and we both realized we needed to step up the creativity game for L&DS. It's time to get creative with ideas my guys, because I haven't gone all out just yet.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Zayne x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Greyson having to listen to Zayne being dommed, Submissive Zayne. Handjobs, Public settings, They're in a tent, Zayne being slutty, Whimpering and moaning, underwear gags ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: Greyson was exhausted from the mission in the Arctic. He wanted nothing more than to just relax and sleep inside the tent. Then he heard it, your footsteps, your whispers, and...Doctor Zayne moaning? ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

Keep Quiet

Greyson stirred in his tent, hating how bitter cold it was. There had recently been an incident over in the arctic, thankfully not as bad as the initial incident, but it had been bad enough that they called for some doctors to come and assist. Greyson had been on the fence about coming, but after seeing Dr. Zayne agreed without hesitation he thought it over and decided to join to help the hunters who had been injured in the incident.

He had been surprised to see one of Zayne’s patients had also come along, although he shouldn’t be surprised. They were a hunter, and when they called for recon they had requested both hunters and doctors. He always figured there was something between Zayne and that Deepspace Hunter, but if there was anything they had kept it under lock and key at the hospital.

Greyson let out a gentle sigh as he relaxed further into the cot. The medic’s resting tent he was in was currently empty, aside from him and Zayne. The two had been working hard and were finally allowed a moment of rest now that everything seemed to be settled down.

When he heard the flaps of the tent opening he was tempted to look over, but his exhaustion stopped him. Whomever it was would find a bed to sleep in and that was that. He closed his eyes again, opting to just try to go back to sleep. Then he heard it; Zayne’s gentle voice was barely above a whisper.

“What are you…?” Greyson’s ears perked up, ready to help Zayne if something was wrong. He then heard a laugh that he recognized all too well from his time of speaking with them at the hospital.

“I couldn’t sleep, so thought I’d visit,” your gentle voice broke out, a low whisper that Greyson wouldn’t have normally been able to hear if it wasn’t so damn silent in the tent.

Grayson heard shuffling on the cot and he briefly wondered what the hell was going on. He was about to turn around when he heard what sounded like a low moan. He froze in place, eyes widening as he wondered what the hell that was.

“Just visiting, huh?” Zayne’s voice came out in a huff and if Grayson strained his ears he could hear the shuffling of more fabric somewhere. Another soft gasp that had to belong to Zayne was heard and Grayson felt his face now heating up.

Your voice came out in a small giggle, “I mean, that and thought you could use a bit of…stress relief,” oh by everything good in life this wasn’t what he thought it was…was it? There was no way someone like Doctor Zayne would act so indecently in public, let alone with a colleague in the same tent as him.

“You realize we’re not alone, correct?” Zayne’s voice came out breathier than Greyson had ever heard. He was glad at least Zayne had some reasoning. He had never thought that you’d be willing to act like this. At the hospital you had always been polite and collected.

He heard shuffling and he could only assume it was you looking over at him, then he heard another gasp from Zayne and more fabric shifting. “He’s asleep, and will probably remain asleep for a while. You guys were up almost all night and day working,” you said with a playful lithe to your voice.

The sound of his colleague moaning then the sudden sound of wet smacking was deafening. It was clear you were kissing Zayne and Greyson was just laying there, listening to everything as he pretended to be asleep.

Should he move, clear his throat, do anything? God, he should do something to let you two know that he was awake. Sure the next time he made eye contact with either of the two it might be a bit awkward, but at least he wouldn’t have heard anything else…

He could hear Zayne now whimpering and his entire image of the man crumbled. He was used to Zayne, the Head of Surgery at Akso Hospital, someone who commanded respect. People were intimidated by this man, hell it was something he and Yvonne found entertaining with new residents who went to train under him.

That same Doctor Zayne was now whimpering while being kissed by one of his patients. He could hear more shuffling than a loud gasp from Zayne as you chuckled.

“Fuck, your cock is already leaking. Is the thought of possibly being caught turning you on this much?” your voice was teasing and it made Grayson’s own cock jump at the tone, “Fuck, you’re such a slut,” Greyson closed his eyes as he mentally told himself to not envision it was him instead of Zayne.

Another muffled moan followed by more lip smacking could be heard. It sounded so wet that it made Greyson flush at the mental image of your tongue delving into Zayne’s mouth while you were most likely on top of him. These cots could only fit one person, after all, and he hadn’t heard Zayne getting up at any point.

A sharper gasp was heard, followed by your laughter, “Gotta be quiet, baby boy,” he couldn’t believe Zayne allowed you to call him that, “Don’t wanna make a commotion. Last time we were almost caught in your office because you couldn’t keep that slutty mouth of yours quiet,” they had done it in his office?

Greyson knew he was far too deep now, all he could do was pretend to be fast asleep and wait it out. Maybe if he was lucky he’d actually fall asleep, but he doubted it. He could feel his own cock leaking at the mental images swirling inside of his mind.

The sound of Zayne whimpering again broke him out of his trance. He could then hear the wet squelching of what was most likely you working your hand over his colleagues dick. It was so wet he had to briefly wonder if you had brought lube, or if Zayne was leaking that much pre cum.

He tried getting that image out of his mind real fast. He could imagine getting a handjob from you without an issue, you were gorgeous and nice to everyone at the hospital. He couldn’t imagine Doctor Zayne whimpering underneath you. The wet slapping sound was getting louder, as was Zayne’s noises.

“Too bad I didn’t bring my strap, would’ve loved to fuck you into his cot and have you begging for more,” you said casually, not stopping whatever you were doing to Zayne. Whatever it was had to be amazing judging by how he had never heard another man sound so fucked out just from some simple touching.

Then he finally heard Zayne’s voice and it sounded wrecked, “Tha-haaah--that would be impractical. We're only here for a week.” the confirmation that you definitely bent Zayne over his desk didn’t go unnoticed. Greyson briefly imagined what you’d look like on top of Zayne, spearing into him. He didn’t think Zayne was so…submissive in bed, yet here he was listening to him coming undone.

Greyson squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his cock twitching. He was not getting off on listening to his senior doctor getting a handjob. He absolutely would never live this down if he jerked himself off while listening to them.

Zayne then let out a low groan, followed by a ‘tsk’ from you, “Damn babes, you’re so fucking noisy as per usual. Thought I told you to be quiet…hold up…lift your hips babes lemme take these off,” your voice was breathy now too and it made Greyson wonder if you were fucking him now. No, he was sure the sound of skin-on-skin slapping would be louder than the wet squelching of your hand going over Zayne’s cock.

He heard shifting on the cot near him and then suddenly Zayne’s voice got muffled by something obstructing his mouth. Your giggles filled the room and everything seemed almost louder. The cot was squeaking now as there was more movement, probably from Zayne’s hips thrusting up. Greyson knew there was no way he’d be able to just sit there himself.

“Fuck, need a lil more,” you murmured and he heard you spit. He then heard something else squelching and his face was on fire. Zayne’s muffled moans were sounding more and more like sobs. Was…he getting fingered?

It just sounded wet and lewd and how the hell did they think they were being quiet? How loud were they normally if this was what you considered as not being noisy; although upon closer inspection he was certain if he had already been asleep this wouldn’t have roused him awake.

A high keen from the back of Zayne’s throat was heard and Greyson laid there as the sound of your hand on Zayne’s cock got a little faster for a second before slowing down. It was silent for a while before he heard you hum, the sound of something somewhat wet and he knew it had to be you licking something, the noise was distinct.

“Taste so good,” you moaned and chuckled. He heard some more shuffling before Zayne cleared his throat, the makeshift boxer gag being removed from his mouth.

“That was…i-inapproriate,” Zayne finally spoke up, his voice a bit huskier but now finally going back to a proper whisper.

Your melodic laugh was music to his ears after all of this, but it came crashing down after you spoke, “Well fucking obviously. I’d rather see you more wrecked than this, but we were already louder than I wanted,” a wet smacking sound of a kiss, “Think you’ll be able to sleep after that?”

Silence fell the room before a hum from Zayne, “I’ll be fine. You should head back to your own tent before they discover you’re missing,”

“Fine…but one more,” you murmured before he could hear another kiss, this time deeper. He then heard the creak of the cot, and then gentle footsteps before the flap of the tent was opened and closed in haste. He heard the shuffling of fabrics once more as Zayne adjusted himself to be fully clothed again.

Then silence befell the room. Greyson didn’t want to make a move or else Zayne might’ve found out he was awake. He knew damn well he wouldn’t be able to look at his colleague the same ever again, but worst of all he doubted he’d be able to speak to you without remembering this and getting hard.

Greyson closed his eyes, willing his boner to go down and hoped maybe the cold he hated not long ago would help aid in calming him down. He needed sleep and perhaps he could convince himself this was all some weird, horny dream.

Y'all don't know this, but Greyson is my favorite victim. I always make him overhear Zayne getting railed in like all my RPs at this point. I need to write something where he joins...oh wait...Ferb, I know what we're doing today.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Zayne Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Zayne #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #zayne x reader #l&ds #l&ds zayne #l&ds zayne x reader #lads x reader #lads zayne #lads zayne x reader

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