#slow and reverb

[vladolak]

Since that name drop in the IWTV finale, I had to do a slow and reverb mix of System by Chester Bennington

it was in the Queen of the Damned movie and became a huge fav of mine ^_^

[chilltidetrance]

Waterfall Chill Music (Lofi Beats) | Music for Meditation & Zen | Study ...

[youling-the-ghost]

I've mentioned this so many times before but I can't get over how sfth are the embodiment of positive masculinity. They're so unafraid of showing their love for each other and it's incredible. The kissing is part of it, of course, but it's also just the way they look at each other onstage. It's the casual physical affection and it's their complete willingness to act feminine for a character. It brings me so much joy when they play women because they do it in such a genuine, passionate way. There's no stigma around playing a female character as a man and I love it so much.

Like, as a new man, sfth have genuinely helped me so much with dysphoria.

[kit-williams]

A modicum of kindness

DEGENERATES ALL OF YOU

Context: Moody's anon's fault for giving me the idea

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

tw: male masturbation, angst?

Why were you kind to him of all people?! Mortarion groused as he had left your presence just as quickly as he could. He could see it, hear it in your voice, smell it in your scent, you were scared of him. Unlike his brother Curze who relished in the fear he brought it was simply what being in the presence of someone like them caused in baselines.

You kept eye contact short... you tried your best to not tremble in fear... your voice wavering under his gaze... you practically wilted under him... and yet you were still kind to him. Your voice was soft... your words soothing... it felt like a balm to him to even in your timid state hear his name flow from your lips.

He didn't know you. You were a new face. New to him anyway... no one must have warned you to not try to be kind to him... to let his gaze cling for too long. The conversation was banal at best... inoffensive even just nothing important just something utterly mundane and still you chose him of all people to try and strike a conversation with. He hopes he wont see you again after what he is about to do. He doubts he could look you in the eyes.

Too many fucking layers he internally grouses as he strips free of everything his white hair clings to the sweat on the back of his neck growing long and annoying to manage... he doesn't let serfs touch him lest he crave that human touch more than he should be allowed to. Its why he doesn't want to see you again... he might crave more... the lingering desire to feel loving hands run through his hair... short nails against his scalp as someone helps him clean... would you say such kind words seeing his body?

He was far too pale... a deathly pallor about him as poison clung to his person as he ruined his lungs... for what. He bitterly seethes. He tightens the breather on his face as the problem between his legs wasn't going away and he walked over to his bed. He felt like a bastard... your only sin of being kind to him made him like some abused beast... eager for a gentle hand to caress him.

Mortarion would rather it be your gentle hands to caress him. He whines at the thoughts of what kind words you would still tell him as your soft body ground against his thigh... or would you rest between his legs... tongue licking his tip... would you still say kind words seeing what he wanted to put into you? What he wanted to do to your body? To ruin you for other men?

Mortarion... Why did you have to actually say his name? It fuels his mind running wild as he languidly strokes his length. That's what caused all of this... the fact you said his name... how he wanted to get you to say it again and again and again. Mortarion! As you slide down his shaft inch by inch... glazed over eyes as drool runs down your chin... just keep saying his name... tell him that you desire this mess of a body.

He fucks his hand harder than he would you as of course you would be scared to even be in the same room... much less actually bed the Primarch... Mortarion does his best to shut down his fantasies as the corners of his eyes burn with that shameful want... to not let them end to not face the reality of it all... that he was in his room pleasuring himself because some mortal said his name sweetly. No one told me you were handsome. He cums at the words you said so softly under your breath... if he was a mortal he wouldn't have heard but he did... he heard you admit that.

Mortarion hurries into the shower before the shame can set in. He just sits under the water like a beast left out in the rain as he feels the sting of shame in his eyes. He doesn't know if he can handle you being kind to him again... and yet he doesn't want to dissuade it... He breaths in the poisonous air as he figures he will never see you again... and you'll just be another pretty face to haunt his lonely nights in bed... another face to haunt him when he needs release... kind words to haunt his fantasies.

He very much hopes he doesn't see you again... because he knows... like a beaten dog he would be desperate to hear your kind words again.

[mercymaker]

I can be good, if you just wanna be bad. I could be sex, unless you want to hold hands.

[gulper-eels]

recreation of a photo I saw - don't ask, I just liked the vibe lol

[tzarrz]

a heem heem- whimper

[evilcokito]

Happy birthday Coco darling!!!! Thanks for being a super awesome mutual and literally my sparring buddy, because good lord you put up a fight

I’m still better though/j

In celebration of your birthday, here’s a little something from your favourite silly tiny mage of all time!!!! I hope you like it 👉👈

——————-——————-——————-—————-

When was it when you started looking forward to coming home?

An outstretched palm, coming to a close around a door’s handle. Keys adorned with various keychains of characters jingling in your other hand, singing like ringing church bells. You would reduce the amount of keychains, but it does make it easier to find.

Most of the keychains were brought or made by you, but one was specially sewn by your… roommate of sorts. A merry little skull, grinning at you somewhat sinisterly. A top hat stood askew on the crown of its head, a goofy little detail.

“A lil’ good luck charm. Just for ya~”

He told you with a cheeky little smile dancing across his lips. Before you could even object, he grabbed your keys, fastening it among your other keychains. You’ve carried it around since.

Stroking it with your thumb gently, you slot your keys into your door, easing it open. Glancing up, you stare into the hallways, announcing your arrival:

“I’m home.”

You’re greeted with a head popping out of your kitchen, grinning away like a Cheshire Cat. Locks of ebony and violet spill from his head, with a pair of horns sticking out from his forehead. White tattoos cradle the undersides of his eyes, a replica of his spine flowing down his neck, dipping into his shirt. An apron is fastened around his waist, the bright red words “Kiss The Cook” rather prominent on it.

“Welcome Home, lil’ imp!”

The man greets you with a laugh and a nonchalant wave, before dipping back into the kitchen. He’s Sam, your roommate for…. Actually, you weren’t sure how long he’s stayed with you. It feels like one day he just showed up and made himself at home.

Not that you mind terribly, though. He helps with the housework while you’re gone, cooks whenever he’s bored… Sam’s good company as well, always ready with a quip or a joke to keep the conversation going. The only probable issue with him staying with you would be the fact that he was an incubus.

A demonic being from the depths of hell, whose life force is sustained by deeds of a more sinful nature. Well, that was how Sam explained it, the first time he showed up on your doorstep.

You almost got a heart attack then. This scantily dressed man with a pair of horns and a forked tail knocking on your door one fine Sunday? Man, it’s a wonder why you didn’t call the police straight away.

You slapped him with a slipper. Sam’s never been more surprised. Most people either fall for his charms, or run away screaming. He hardly gets to meet anyone who could resist his aura, much less hit him in the face.

You’re a rather interesting lil’ imp!

So he moved himself in right after. You’ve tried various ways to kick him out of your house. A salt line (Sam ended up vacuuming it up), playing prayers from every religious CD you could get your hands on ( Sam changed it out to other music. Better music, he said. It’s from your favourite band… hate to say it, but he’s got taste), replacing the locks on your door (he teleported right in with a ring of fire. You haven’t gotten the burns out of your floor till this day).

Come on, cut it out trying to kick him out! Sam’s so very hurt, y’know? It’s almost as if you don’t want him around, lil’ imp~

You can try to tell him that you want him out, as time goes by, Sam doesn’t miss the soft note in your voice whenever you talk to him. It’s getting harder and harder for you to hide the blush on your cheeks whenever both of you make eye contact. Hm, you’re not as immune to his charms as he initially thought~

Or so Sam claims, but somehow thinking about you liking him only because of his looks makes him hurt a little, in his chest. In his… heart. That sounds rather odd to say out loud, actually. Especially since he’s an incubus. Sam’s supposed to be immune to this sort of thing.

Goodness, was he experiencing the forlorn of love? Him?

Falling in love with a mortal…. Falling in love with you?

That doesn’t sound too bad, actually.

For now, Sam’s playing the role of the helpful, kind roommate the best he can for you. Slyly finding out your favourite things to eat, your favourite things to do. Watching stupid horror movies with you on the couch, cuddled up to each other. Sam has to fight the urge to slip his hand into yours under your blanket. He settles for letting your fingers brush against his when you reach for the snack bowl.

Sam knows you mortals like to take things slow. Relationships start carefully, with both parties getting to know each other first. He doesn’t want to scare you off, ever.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do without you anymore.

So Sam waits for you at home every day.

He greets you with a smile on his face when you come home.

Sam doesn’t even have to fake it, anymore.

But beware, because even his patience can run thin. He’s a demon, after all. An incubus, straight from the flaming pits of hell. So if one day, you find yourself restrained on your own bed, Sam’s hands on your hips….

Well, you’ll forgive him afterwards, wouldn’t you?

After all, he’s your beloved Sam darling, isn’t he?

THE SAM INCUBO HOUSE HUSBAND, MY GOD,ooooooohhhhh BLESS ME FATHER-

My God, Ceru, thank you very much, it's absolutely brilliant AAEEEHHHHHH I READ IT VERY EARLY AND A LOT OF TIMES. IT'S VERY CUTE AND... :) THE END asjasjajsjasj hhhhhhHEEELLLPPPP.

OBVIOUSLY POST IT SO THAT OTHERS READ this Sublime work of art AHHHHHHHHHHHH- MATCH MY FREAK. I read this while listening to songs on [Slowed + Reverb] HIGHLY RECOMMENDED-

[bunnakit]

if we get the tharn screaming over phaya's body scene this week i need you all to know that nothing, absolutely nothing, not wild dogs nor natural disasters, will keep me from doing a character study of that moment from tharn's pov and i'm so, so sorry in advance

edit: wow ok I didn't think more than 2 people would read this but I guess lmk if you want me to tag you if/when this happens?

[vladolak]

I found this song called Back to Me by a group called The Rose (더로즈) and I needed to do a slow and reverb mix :3

[corpsepaws]

okay but hear me out. A fiddlefordxstandford animatic to the song 'roxanne' from moulin rouge. And bill is like totally jealous and leads to a fight. and that's when stanford snaps. then epic fight.

I THINK THAT WOULD BE SO COOL!!

[iamwizzzzz]

[herprincess]

shhhhhhhhh

vailcheed🤠

[alphasunpup]

Feedist Kinktober Day 18- Artists Muse

You sit there in art class low-key regretting volunteering to be the nudes model for this week's study

You see the critical judgemental stares in your classmates and you can't tell if it's disgust at your rolls or the critical eye of painters and sketchers

One woman in particular, almost never looks up from her easel. Her own locs tied back in a boho fashion with a bandana

Your own goddess braids were in a half up do and half down. You feel every stretch mark spanned across your skin. You feel every misproportioned and asymmetrical way your fat folds. How your back rolls are like turbulent waves. You feel like everyone can see your faded and stretched tattoos over all your skin.

You just want it over. And then the bell rings for class and everyone turns their sketches over.

You gasp. The cool girl who wouldn't dare look at you, now makes direct eye contact.

Her brown almost black eyes pierce your soul. Her silver nose rings make the cool undertones of her skin pop out. Her sketch by far is the best. She almost makes an exact replica.

She snorts when everyone applauds her

"Art is easy to make when the muse is beautiful." She says and her eyes still never leave your. You shiver and it isn't because you're cold.

The class is dismissed and everyone leaves. You finally grab your clothes so you could go home and warm up. You notice on the back if the girl's easel is small writing in pencil

"Call me, beautiful muse."

[incitingincidents]

"Slowed and Reverbed" Spotify Playlist