#pumped to see where this goes

[z1mmie]

someone needs to do a timeline of fantasy high cuz some of the ages, relationships, and events they're setting up in junior year DO NOT match up. this is only 3 years of time but some of the stuff isn't working in my head.

When did sophomore year take place again? how old are all the kids? the adults? fabian is EIGHTEEN at the BEGINNING of junior year??? am i the only one who found that crazy?

i feel like i'm going nuts. (i wasn't thinking about it til i saw a post by @yak-leather-whips)

i legitimately do not have time to do it myself or i would but i hope someone does some sort of timeline soon!

[puppppppppy]

Jitterbug

[amartianonmars]

aquarium field trip!

[morismentos]

surprisingly i didn’t have tooo much trouble with him, and some extra grimes for fun and then it kinda spiraled into beach party doodles

my hand writing is a bit messy because Car. so here’s what it say

[Jerry: We’re taking bets on who drowns first Pump: Um.]

[Patrick: Uh. Hey Hector what are you doing? Hector: Mf sand Fleas in my mmouth mhwatchm ptchoo]

[Jerry: Hey guys. Anemone. Who wants to lick it. Pump: ooooo Patrick: oooh i do Harriet: We’re dead, would we even feel it? Jerry: Doesn’t mean we can’t live a little.]

[the-spooky-children]

Episode 10 is gonna be epic

[ghoulishtomato]

Hilarious how lots of conservatives think resistance against change is actual resistance and not just them clinging to the status quo.

[ohlovxr]

why do men literally suck

[calebs-hangout-corner]

Thinking about Brooke again

[medicinemane]

One final thought, if you're looking at Ukraine and you're saying "yeah, I feel bad for them, but I'm more worried about China", well... I do agree with you that the idea of China attacking Taiwan is horrific and real thing to be concerned about given the rhetoric China uses around Taiwan

However, all I have to say is that how we handle Ukraine will likely strongly factor in to China's thinking around anything to do with Taiwan

The parallels are blatant, and there's no way they aren't watching

I argue to you that the stronger our support for Ukraine is, the more painful this ends up being for russia so long as they refuse to withdraw; that the stronger the deterrence to China to engage in something that's really similar to what russia's doing in Ukraine

I argue to you that one of the best ways to deal with China and support Taiwan, is for us to support Ukraine

A Ukrainian victory supports a more stable world

[desert-gays]

mind the empty bottle with the holes along the bottom, you see its too much to ask for and i am not the doctor

read the tags for some character lore haha

[melancholic-fig]

What I loved about the Substance was that it took impossible body standards imposed on women seriously. It didn't treat me like a kid throwing a temper tantrum about not being sexy. It didn't try to tell me "everyone is beautiful" and "every body is a beach body" in a pitiable voice that makes it all worse. There's no one singing to me about how "I cannot see my own beauty", as if validation from men will ever be enough to cover the black hole in my stomach drilled by years of self-loathing, binging-purging cycles and appetite-suppression pills. It haven't stopped for a second to congratulate itself for platitudes.

The substance threw an ice bucket on my head, grabbed me by the shoulders, dragged me to the mirror and told me "look at what violence you're inflicting on yourself!". It showed me a perfect body, the carrot on the stick, and then it hit it with a sledgehammer in white neon light. Is it worth it? Aren't you mad? Look at how he eats shrimp and doesn't wash his hands - is this the person you want to be liked by? Is this what you deserve for being human, really?

I've seen this movie on Friday and it's been stuck in my head ever since. I haven't looked in the mirror the same again. Somehow this made me kinder to myself.

I've seen reviewers say that this movie counts as "male gaze" and "violence against women" but I think they don't see the forest from the trees here.

First the male gaze: it felt like a deconstruction, in the best way. Sue's butt was the least erotic thing ever put to screen. The soft porn dance studio was shot in a lifeless manner, I felt like my mom was reading the browse history. Personally, I'd never want to have Sue's job. Even the sexist dudes that watch the movie seem to "get it", that their overly sexual media diet looks embarassing under the microscope. The medium is the message, and the sound and visual cues are all there to make sex appeal look very unappealing and immature. There's nothing sexy in "Pump it up", it's catchy and fun and has sexual undertones, but not a hint of sensuality.

Then the violence against women: there is only one scene where a man attacks a woman, and I'll not spoil it, but i'll say it's so bizzare it feels too cartoony to count. The rest of the violence is all self-inflicted. Every step of the way. Women don't just suffer abuse under patriarchy from men, they self-inflict and reenforce the structures of their own suffering onto others. Elizabeth is a fitness coach actively making bank off of other women's fears, and in the process of telling everyone over x kg to skip lunch she's grown her own self-loathing too. It wasn't really the horny men watching the fitness show, isn't it? Sue is even worse, she goes on talk shows to tell women her looks come from being kind, a silly statement considering she injects herself daily with an old woman's spine liquid while loathing her for existing. Elizabeth and Sue are both victims and perpetuators of violence, and it's gruesome because it's not a silly feminine thing, it's all-encompassing and a matter of life and death. Without violence, what would be the message of the movie? "It kinda sucks to be a woman hating your body". Doesn't sting, isn't it? This is not chopping women and putting them in refrigerators to give the good guy a reason to kill the baddie, this has to be violent to show the depth of pain of the protagonist. It's necessary. And I like it, because crying and wallowing in pain is not the behaviour you want to see on screens, it feels lethargic and leads to the problem not being taken as seriously.

[nereidprinc3ss]

in the dead of night

in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH

When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 

Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 

God, he loves you. 

It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 

“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 

“Hm?” 

His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 

“Is this okay?”

You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 

“I need yes or no, angel.”

“Yes, please.”

The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 

“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 

“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 

“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”

Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 

“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 

He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 

The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 

“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”

He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 

“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”

The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”

“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”

He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 

“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 

“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”

That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 

“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”

“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”

It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 

“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”

“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”

“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 

“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”

You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 

“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 

“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”

“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 

“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”

“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”

“Why not?”

You huff.

“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”

“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”

You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 

“No! I take it back.”

“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”

The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”

“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”

“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”

That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.

“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”

A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”

“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”

You laugh. 

Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 

He loves it when you do that. 

[shomatoriashi]

12/06/24; 05:00pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you have a wet dream about them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

warnings: somnophilia.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

your breathing becomes uneven and labored when sylus smirks down at you, admiring your helpless form as you remained tied to the bed post. each one of your limbs remained spread wide open for him as you helplessly pull against the ropes that hindered your every movement.

never before had you been left in such a vulnerable position, feeling the heat against your cheek when sylus could see every clench of your aching cunt. he licks his lips at the sight while lazily stroking at his cock, “kitten, may i just say how delectable you look right now?”

he basks in your embarrassed expression, taking pleasure in how you were unable to meet his gaze. with a shake of his head, sylus slowly joins you in bed while letting out a soft coo of your name, his powerful body already laying on top of yours, taking complete advantage of your immobile state when he descends upon you. hungry lips swallow your moans as you felt the tip of his erection brush against your entrance, teasing you while simultaneously distracting you with his kisses. your soft mewls were like music to sylus’s ears when he inserts a thick finger into your slick walls.

pumping his fingers in and out of you, your soft mewls immediately turns into moans of desperation for him, with your body writhing against your bindings when he adds another finger into your heat.

“you always feel so good around me, kitten.” his hot breath causes shivers to run down your spine as you felt your release quickly approaching-

you wake up with a start, heart pounding within your chest as your mouth turns dry at having such an intense dream. trailing your eyes toward the clock, you saw that it was barely past midnight-

and there was a considerable ache felt between your legs.

whimpering softly to yourself, you place a hand within the waistband of your panties, feeling the way your arousal causes an uncomfortable moisture to collect against them. letting out a soft moan, you trail your gaze toward the lone figure settled next to you on the bed, seeing sylus still in a deep sleep. your mouth goes dry upon seeing the upper half of his body utterly bare for you as a surge of need courses through your veins.

filled with a desperation to continue where your dream had left off, you shrug out of your shirt and panties, leaving you naked when you decided to climb onto sylus. the sight of bare abdomen makes your clit harden in response as you straddle him, planting your hips on his chest before grinding your cunt against his hard wall of muscle.

so caught up in pleasure, you remained blissfully unaware of how sylus had woken up the moment you mounted yourself onto him, letting out a string of soft curses when he feels the stickiness of your arousal staining at his skin. the onychinus leader feigns sleep for a few more minutes, only reaching his breaking point when you finally released yourself on him.

“hah… hah…” when you finally reached your own gratification, you planned on getting off of sylus-

only to be stopped by his large hands felt gripping at your waist.

“and where do you think you’re going, kitten? after giving me such a delicious snack, you think i’d let you stop before getting to the main course?” your eyes go wide upon seeing the noticeable tent against the blankets, a clear indication of how sylus had witnessed your sinful acts and had a response to it.

you were given no chance to tell him about your dreams and how needy it made you when sylus leads your pliant body over his cock, allowing the tip of it to brush against your heat before pushing you down on him while setting a rapid pace.

needless to say, your dreams paled in comparison to the real deal.

“zayne…!”

you cried out to him, feeling zayne thrusting his cock in and out of you with a sense of desperation. never before had you felt such displays of passion from your lover, feeling as though he were fucking you into the bed.

each time his hips meet with yours, you were left seeing stars, clinging to his body with a newfound urgency. your copulation felt more like a mating ritual with how zayne skipped the foreplay and went straight to impaling you with his cock.

but truly, you needed no extra methods to prepare yourself for zayne’s lovemaking, for witnessing how he takes control while between the comfort of your sheets was enough to make the moisture flood from between your legs.

“ngh…ngh…ngh!” each one of his thrusts was paired with a grunt that was far too hot for your body to handle, making you feel the familiar tightness in your abdomen as it was on the brink of snapping-

you gasp for air, nearly choking on your saliva when you suddenly woke up from such a pleasant dream. a light sheen of sweat was felt coating at your skin, along with a familiar dampness settled between your legs.

with your panties ruined and a newfound ache, your body was running on autopilot, feeling more than a little frustrated when you were unable to fully climax after experiencing such a vivid dream. your gaze lands on the other side of your bed, seeing zayne still in a deep sleep while you were left feeling the throes of passion left in the wake of your dreams.

i can’t do this, i need him.

pulling up your shirt, you hurriedly take off your soaked panties and climb on top of zayne. he stirs in his sleep, letting out a groan when you attempt to pull down the waistband of his grey sweatpants. he opens his eyes just in time to see your hands pulling out his limp cock.

“c-can i borrow this?” you ask him while letting out a breathless moan, making your lover grunt when he arches his body against the bed, already going hard for you.

“of course, but why so-“ zayne gasps the moment you manage to stroke him to full hardness before sliding down his cock, completely sheathing the entirety of his length within your walls. you felt him pulsating and twitch inside of you, making you let out a sigh of relief before moving against him.

“hah… sorry… i just… had the hottest dream about you. don’t remember much of it, only that your cock felt too good to ignore.”

zayne was given little choice but to lay back in bed, subjected to the onslaught of pleasure you had oh so willingly gifted him while thinking of ways to make you dream even more about him-

especially if it lead you to bouncing up and down his cock like your life depended on it.

you basked in xavier’s soft moans of your name the moment you went down on him, taking every inch of his cock within your eager and awaiting mouth.

there was something oddly addicting to the taste of him, with you licking away the beads of precum that escapes from the cute tip of xavier’s cock. he gasps each time you move your head back and forth against him.

xavier’s hands were suddenly felt gripping at your hair as his voice cracks a bit. keeping your head still, xavier was felt thrusting his hips in and out of you mouth, his grunts and moans raising a few octaves as he sought his release.

“please… i’m gonna… i’m gonna…!”

the familiar twitch was felt against your tongue, and you willingly swallowed all that he had to offer before pulling away from him all while licking at your lips…

you awaken suddenly, heart pounding as you licked at your lips, trying to moisten them. letting out a soft moan, you cover your eyes, feeling the way your heart pounds in tune with the familiar ache between your legs.

turning your head to the right, you saw xavier was still asleep, true blue eyes hidden beneath shaky lids as his chest rises and falls in tune to his steady breathing. biting down at your bottom lip, you tried to be a good lover and go back to sleep-

however, the images from your dream kept flashing within your memory, keeping you awake as you knew that you had to act on your desires now.

letting out a sigh, you take off all of your clothes, remaining bare before gently pulling down the comforter, revealing xavier in his plain shirt and white sweatpants. your gaze was completely focused on the waistband of his pants, with your hands slowly pulling them down to reveal his plain boxers.

you got on top of his legs, pulling down his boxers in one swift motion to reveal his limp cock. licking at your lips one last time, you moisten them before descending upon his cock, placing it within your hot mouth while expertly moving your head up and down his length.

within seconds, xavier turns hard for you, making you smile around his hard cock as you traced the tip of your tongue around each pulsating vein.

“ngh…!” xavier lets out a broken moan of your name, already sitting up in bed when he feels you giving what had to be the best blow job of his life. your hot mouth truly felt like bliss around his cock-

but it could never match with your slick folds.

unable to take it much longer, xavier manages to remove your hungry mouth away from his cock. you were still in a daze, seeing the way it twitches momentarily before he mounts you on top of it.

“your kisses on me feel so good… but this feels so much better.” xavier admits to you in a breathless whisper, already bouncing you up and down his length as you allow all coherency to be tossed out the window-

perhaps reality were better than dreams after all.

rafayel was simply settled back in bed when he allows you to ride his thighs.

“that’s it… you’re doing such a good job, princess.” the lemurian was practically purring now, feeling the way your arousal stains at his skin the more you ground yourself against the top of his thighs.

your breathy moans and gasps echo throughout rhe room. his thighs kept on clenching at all the right moments, causing you to cry out to him each time he hits your clit. the friction was almost too much to bear as your movements became sloppy and needier.

yet rafayel encourages you every step of the way.

he admires your gorgeous form and the way you writhed against his body, licking his lips while saying your name in a husky manner. when you felt as though you were on a brink of experiencing your release, rafayel leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his hand already traveling down to the spot between your legs while giving your hardened clit a pinch-

you wake up with a gasp, eyes going wide upon feeling an almost painful ache between your legs. the dream left you feeling unsatisfied and utterly disappointed at how it wasn’t real-

but that didn’t mean you couldn’t make it real.

the sounds of someone’s gentle snores breaks you out of your needy reveries, with your gaze meeting rafayel’s sleeping features. biting down at your bottom lip, you weighed the pros and cons of waking up your lover-

yet decided to simply follow your body’s desires instead.

lifting up your nightgown, you crawl toward rafayel’s body, pulling down the sheets before settling yourself on top of his thighs. planting your hands on top of his abdomen, you remove your panties, allowing them to hang over your ankles before placing your wet heat over your lover’s sweatpants.

the sensation of pleasure was immediate when you grind your pussy lips against his clothed thighs, quickly getting drunk off of the pleasure as you rode him with a desperation. you were so caught up in your pursuit of pleasure that you didn’t even realize rafayel had woken up.

“well well well, what’s this?” his lazy voice makes you clench your legs in response, yet you were too far gone to care. your hazy eyes meet with his playful gaze, noticing the way his lips were upturned in a smirk, “is my princess having fun without me, humping my thighs like a puppy in heat?”

you purse your lips, feeling embarrassed yet so utterly needy for him. basking in his teasing words, you continue riding his thighs, earning a rich chuckle from him as he continues watching you, behaving very much like the rafayel in your dreams when he remains in his laid back position in bed.

“you’re lucky that i don’t mind spoiling you, princess. i’ll let you have your fun before allowing you to do the same to me on my cock.”

end notes: hhhhh wet dreams coming true with the lads men wet dreams coming true with the lads men wet dreams coming true with the lads men wet dreams-

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[finalgirllx]

the one where ellie discovers that she has a praise kink minors dni

ellie twisted one final screw into place on the new bookcase she was constructing for your shared book collections. she leaned back, letting out a small grunt once the backache from being hunched over for so long caught up to her. she wiped stray hairs from her face and inspected her handiwork.

you, being a supportive girlfriend, laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "atta girl,” you commended, "looks great."

ellie's heart skipped a beat when cursed phrase left your mouth. it was innocent enough—at least the intent behind it in the moment. she glanced over her shoulder up at you, eyes wide and lips parted but not a word escaping. safe to say, all coherent thought was out the window for a fleeting moment. her rosy cheeks only deepened when your sly smile revealed that her reaction hadn't gone unnoticed. ellie would then mumble "thanks" and use her exhaustion from the manual labor as an excuse, which you accepted.

okay, maybe ellie did have an inkling of suspicion about why the phrase affected her. the heat suddenly pulsating to her lower region was answer enough.

and praise already was often sprinkled in when you two were intimate. as a treat. so it wasn't totally new. but the unexpected strike during such an innocuous moment pulled a reaction out of ellie that she hadn’t felt so intensely before. she was just too embarrassed to admit it and wasn't ready to bring it up.

this all changed, of course, during one tired, opportune movie night. sprawled mellowly on ellie's old couch, bodies barely brushing against each other, your gaze repeatedly falls on her silhouette- unable to look away. ellie's perfect smattering of freckles, round emerald eyes, soft bridge of her nose, chestnut hair curved around her jaw. ellie didn't have to do a damn thing; she was just so damn pretty.

finally, your temptation peaks, fueling your audacity to place a deliberate hand on her thigh. you squeeze it, speaking volumes about your growing need. you craved ellie. badly.

a few inelegant adjustments to remove some clothes and get into more comfortable positions later, ellie sinks back into the couch cushion, her torso bare. you take a few beats to seal the image to memory, her soft skin, the curves of her breasts and figure. your suppressed desire unleashed, starting an assault of kisses and bites everywhere on ellie that you can access. the film becomes white noise in the background, entirely forgotten.

your lips, suctioned to ellie's chest, release with a pop. you admire the masterpiece of spattered reddening marks you left all over her skin. the hand previously massaging her other breast starts to travel downwards, tracing her sternum like a trail of flames. your kisses work their way up her neck, these daintier so you can focus on savoring ellie's delicious whines.

your palm grazes the dampened fabric of ellie’s panties, taking great satisfaction in seeing her world turn hazy and glassy-eyed.

“please..please..” ellie whispered- lost for air and desperate. you smirk, feeling your fingers grow wet from her arousal.

you guide ellie to briefly lift her hips to shrug her shorts and panties off, giving you unbridled access to her soaked heat. she parts her legs further, inviting. your mouth goes dry at the sight. you dip your fingers between her glistening folds, the tantalizing movement eliciting a whine from ellie. your thumb finds her pulsing clit and starts slowly tracing circles. once you’ve worked her and yourself up, you press one finger deep into her slick center, trying not to fall apart from how worked up her cries have gotten you.

“you’re being such a good girl for me,” you muttered tenderly, lazily pumping your finger inside her.

the petname hit ellie like a lightning strike. she tells on herself with how she clenches around your digits, her hips bucking up to encourage your thrusts deeper. you turn devilishly cocky when you realize the cause of her unraveling. she’s begging you to keep talking, to move your hand faster and bring her to ecstasy. you keep up the pace, focused on stretching her out until gradually adding a second finger and curling them deeper.

“fuck, you’re taking my fingers so well,” you purr, pairing it with more light kisses and nibbles to her ear.

“mmm…oh my fucking god—“ ellie breathes your name like a prayer, her pleas tumbling out incomprehensibly.

“you like being my good fucking girl, hmm? i didn’t know just how much..you’re so fucking tight…”

your words are ellie’s downfall, a long-awaited orgasm suddenly crashing through her. her entire body shudders, and you guide ellie through the waves uttering similar, delicate phrases, reveling in how the praise undid her. “good fucking girl, atta girl…”

once the throes of pleasure grow further apart, you pull your fingers from her. you bring your wet digits up and press them to ellie’s lips, giving a quiet command for her clean up her mess. “suck.”

ellie, flushed and dumbed out from her orgasm, mindlessly wraps her pretty lips around you, tasting herself on your fingers. the warmth enveloping you is almost overbearing for your own lust. of course, you encourage her as she sucks them clean. “that’s it, my sweet girl. i’m so proud of you.”

[echoekhi]

I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight

What Are “What If” Videos?

These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.

Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.

They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.

In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.

In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.

Project Copy-Knight

Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.

And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.

It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.

I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:

On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.

The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.

Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.

I Need Your Help

I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.

So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.

------

See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/

[yemmuis]

edging your husband!gojo until he literally cant take it anymore.

you made a bet. with him, that is. after a honeymoon of fucking like rabbits, drinking too much and sleeping in every day, you decided it might be fun to make your man wait a bit before he can have you again. specifically after something he said in the afterglow of sex and champagne, snuggling into you tightly.

“hey, baby?” gojo breathes against your neck, his arm around your waist tightening a little as he pulls you back against his chest. “been thinkin’, i dunno if i can ever get off without you again.”

those drowsy, mumbled words sparked something in you. never again? what a great opportunity!

“baby, please, come on! just let me touch you, please?” gojo whines, his tone desperate as he presses his face into your stomach and groans. “you’re so pretty, i wanna fuck you so bad…” but no, you can’t relent. you want to see where this goes, and if youre anything, its a person of follow-through.

“no, ‘toru. you can wait.” you retort, carding your fingers through his snowy white locks and continuing with your work on your laptop with the other hand. you almost hope you can make him snap. even if hes been a little rough with you before, youve never seen him really break. maybe you just like how bad he needs you.

and, maybe its his tone when he gets all whiney and needy. maybe.

“angel, love of my life, my perfect spouse, please? anything. anything, seriously. i will buy you a new car if you let me fuck you. god, i swear i will die if—“

okay, maybe you werent a person of your word. so what? hes so desperate, you cant help it.

its not long until your laptop and all the clothes on your body are forgotten on your bedroom floor.

“fuck, baaby, god,” gojo groans, feeding every thick inch of his cock sloooowly into your hole, biting his lip, hair sweat-sticky and flattened to his forehead. “thank you, baby, thank you…” his tone is whiney, but still hoarse, his head pressed into your chest as his hips twitch into yours and his fingers sink into your thighs. “this is why i fuckin’ married you. haahh…” hes whining, whimpering, thrusting his hips into yours with reckless abandon, barely fucking conscious and yet his fingers still clumsily find your sweet spot and rub messy circles around it while something tight and hot coils in your core.

fuck being a person of your word, this was so much better than edging him. gojos hips start pumping more languidly into you as the original heat wears off, groaning deep in his chest while he hikes your thighs up higher on his hips and somehow gets even deeper into you, the weepy, thick head of his cock pressing into all the right spots as it bullies its way into you until youre cumming all around him. gojo lets out a shaky gasp against your skin (the first time his orgasm has ever rendered him speechless, you think smugly in the back of your mind) and hes drooling against your sticky skin and fucking his cum as deep as he can get it into you and babbling about how thankful he is for you when hes got his voice back

edging your spouse obviously was not for the weak. especially when your husband was satoru gojo and obviously couldnt control himself one bit when it came to his new spouse.